Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers...sad.

A/N: A short piece I wrote a few weeks ago and posted on LJ. Just getting it up over here. Also, there's a companion piece to this one, which will be added shortly after this is posted.

Ode to Something More

"Prowl?"

"…"

"Prowler?"

"Hm?"

"Prowl, are ya really payin' attention, or didja only say 'hm' ta get me ta stop pesterin' ya?" Jazz asked, his elbows resting upon his knees while seated on their shared berth.

Letting loose a cycle of air, Prowl looked up from the data pad in his grasp. "Yes, Jazz, I'm listening."

Satisfied he had the Datsun's full attention, the saboteur perked up a bit. He paused, deciding the best way to form his question for his bondmate. Going with the direct approach, Jazz asked, "Why'd ya join the Autobots?"

That question caught the tactician by surprise and sent his processors whirring. "Pardon?"

"Why'd ya join the Autobots? 'Cause the 'Cons destroyed Praxus? 'Cause we're the 'good' guys, as the humans would say? Why the Autobots?"

The taller black and white mech truly didn't know what to say. It was something the pair had never discussed. They had both already been among the Autobot ranks when they met one another. Still, they had never explored their personal motives for enlisting.

Turning around in his chair to fully face the Porsche, he gently placed the data pad on the desk for later. Prowl frowned softly. "There are many reasons. Partly because some of the things you said, but it was a rather…difficult time for me when I decided to join. I'm not sure if I could explain it to anyone."

Jazz pouted. "Even me, love?"

Smiling wryly in return, he said, "Yes, even you."

Placing his arms behind his head, Jazz leaned back to lay across the spacious berth. He focused on the ceiling above him. "S'okay, Prowler. Ya don't hafta try ta explain it to me."

Not feeling as if this conversation should end with that, the second-in-command let his chin rest upon his forearms folded on the top of the chair. "What about you, Jazz? Why did you join the Autobot faction?"

Chuckling at having sparked his mate's interest, the saboteur turned on his side to face Prowl once more. "'Side the obvious reason that it was the right thing ta do?"

"Yes, beside that."

"As the first stirrings of unrest came around back on Cybertron, I didn't know what ta think. Before I knew it, mechs and femmes I'd known all my life were choosin' sides, pledgin' alliances ta causes I wasn't sure I understood or believed in."

Prowl nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean. My creators wanted nothing to do with the dividing factions, declaring their affairs to be trivial. They insisted we remain neutral—thinking it was just a phase."

"I wish it had jus' been a phase," Jazz muttered sullenly, glaring at the floor.

"I wish that as well."

After a few minutes of shared silence, Jazz found his voice to continue. "I dunno, I felt like I was one of the only neutrals left in Iacon as time went on. Then there was a rally of sorts to attract Autobot recruits. My friend convinced me ta go with him."

"Who was it, if I may ask?"

Jazz smiled. "It was Blaster, actually. We met on the music scene long before the war. He told me to come to the rally 'cause the leader of the Autobots was gonna be there givin' a speech o' sorts to raise interest and morale." With a small pause, Prowl could hear the emotion creeping into Jazz's vocalizer as he described the event. "Prowl, as soon as I heard Prime talk about what the Autobots stood for in this war—the freedom of individuals, the right ta choose for themselves—I jus' knew I had ta join right then and there. And as the humans say, the rest is history."

Stretching his arms above his head, the saboteur rolled back onto his back. "Prime has a way with words, doesn't he?"

"I suppose, yes, considering I wrote that speech for him."

The saboteur bolted upright, his expression dumbfounded. "What?"

The Datsun shrugged. "I had already been enlisted for quite some time when we had that rally. And it's not a big deal, Jazz, they were, and still are, Prime's ideals, just my words."

"Still," Jazz insisted, throwing his arms into the air. "That speech is what inspired me ta join. Your words changed my life, Prowler. It convinced me that this was a cause worth dyin' for."

Prowl shuttered his optics, shaking his head at his bondmate's comments. Turning his optics on once more, he softly said, "I'd have to disagree with that sentiment, Jazz."

The third-in-command looked at the police cruiser's face intently, not sure if he had heard him correctly. "Did I hear ya right? You don't think this is a cause worth dyin' for? But Prowl, how can ya say—"

Standing up abruptly, Prowl cut off his sentence. Twitching his door wings with mild amusement, he grasped his mate's face in his hands, bent down and placed a chaste kiss upon his brow. "No, Jazz…it's something more than that. It's a cause worth living for."

Blinking his optics behind his visor, the Porsche recognized the difference in wording. With a smile, he pulled the tactician in for a deep kiss. "I think you're right, Prowler. A cause worth livin' for. And you have a way with words, no matter what ya say."