Jazz looked out across the large expansion of land, thinking nothing of what he was seeing, how could he, Prowl was gone again, off doing something that was "productive" for the autobots as he had told him before he had left. The dark cybertronian sky suddenly seemed to darken, the sign of the rain. Wonderful, and I thought I was actually going to be better off outside of the base, guess not, he thought to himself. He got up, not too fast at all, he really didn't care if the rain came and washed him away, offlined him, why should he?

When he finally made it up, he transformed and drove back to base, no one talked to him as he went to his room, somehow they had found out about his little crush on the tactician, so they always kept a distance when he was away. He typed in the code to his room so his door would open for him, once it did and he walked in, the light flickered on, giving him the ability to see everything again. The cds were still in place; the holograms still around; his computer left alone; the datapads in the corner, wait a minute, where'd those come from? He walked over to where the 'pads laid on the floor, all in either the main pile or right next to it. Let me guess, more work? He leaned down to pick one up when he saw a name on the top for who it was designated to go to: Prowl. What the slag did I get his work for? Just because he's away doesn't mean his work suddenly becomes mine, he's always finished it all when he came back.

He put the 'pad back down and reached to scoop the others into the pile, hoping not to wind up dropping them all and making himself look stupid as he went out of his room to put the pads in Prowl's office, only to find it locked. Why does he and Red Alert got to be so tight on security? He readjusted the pile as he took off in the direction of Prowl's room, hoping it wouldn't be locked like his office.

He hit the open button on the door, yes, we're in. He lurked in, trying to find a place for the papers, which was a problem, the room was bare. Nothing that showed anything about the tactician at all. Jazz finally just decided on the bed. He got on the bed and turned to drop them next to him then leave when he heard a noise by the door.

He looked up to see Prowl standing there, he must of come back early. Prowl just stared at him for a few more astroseconds before he walked in, no noise made, making his name perfect for him.

"What are you doing in here Jazz?" he asked when he finally stopped in front of him.

Jazz tried to find the words, anything that wouldn't be as simple as his CPU was forming, but it didn't work. "Sorry Prowl, I kind of found these in my room and they're saying they're your's, and well, your office was locked, but your room wasn't, so I figured I could just drop 'em on your bed for ya."

"What do you mean you just happened to "find them in your room?" I know you Jazz, you and your friends love doing tricks like this, so I suggest you stop with this little lie and just tell me the truth already."

"Prowl, I'm not lyin' to ya, I seriously found 'em in my room with your name, look," he said as he held up one for Prowl to read.

He slowly looked over the 'pad to see that Jazz was right, he had found them in his room, that or he found a way into his office and brought them in here for him, either way, he was either being completely truthful or halfully.

"Thank you," he said as hastily as he could. "You can go now."

"'kay Prowl," Jazz said as he slowly stood up to leave.

Jazz walked out of the room, not really in as bad a mood as he had been in earlier, but it was still bad, and he needed to get it fixed, and quick. He ran back to his room, hoping there would be something there to fix his problem, but nothing there could help, all they could do was keep him occupied for a few minutes, if that. He suddenly started thinking of Prowl again, which kept him even longer than all the others. He sat there on his bed daydreaming of what he wished he could do with the tactician, visualizing everything. He finally laid down, perpendicualr with the bed as he fell into recharge, he would be his sooner or later.