Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers (2007), Will & Grace, or the song With a little help from my friends by The Beatles.

Warning: ...I don't know how to put this. Rated M for a reason...? Basically, Jazz's charge tries to stop her body from reacting normally as she develops. Jazz gets more frustrated than her. Ergo - Idiot. Plus, his charge is a lesbian. And Jazz makes a female holoform for her. No intercourse, just teasing. Don't think this is something you'd like to read? Then, by all means, hit the back button. I won't be offended.

(I was concerned about the rating with this story. I'm labeling it as M to be safe, but if you think it would be okay as T, please let me know...?)

~0~

In this world, ice can be used for many things. Healing, lowering body temperature, reducing the flavor of drinks that would otherwise be sour...None of which Jazz has a problem with. It's the creative prospects of it that leave him...concerned. Creativity can be inspirational and it can be harmful. When it comes to humans and the places their minds go concerning interfacing...Let's just say he crosses the line at ice. No, he draws the motte at ice, because the only place that ice cubes are going as far as he is concerned is in a glass of pink lemonade in July, not in his charge's valve during a thunderstorm.

Truth be told, he didn't want to have this conversation with his charge. Forget his acceptance of all (most) cultures, this was awkward. His charge certainly didn't make it easy...especially since he knew that they had had this conversation at some point...

"Why'd ya put ice of all things on it, anyway?"

"It was hot. I couldn't sleep."

"Bel...ya do realize that its supposed ta be, right?"

"No duh," she mumbled.

"Then why would you...? Bel, I swear I'm not tryin' to embarrass ya here. I'm seriously stumped." She looked out the window. Jazz sighed. "Ya know ice can cause a yeast infection if ya put it down there, right?"

"I put it in a bag," Bel mumbled defensively. "Its not like I put anything in there. Just the surface."

"Bel, its supposed ta get hot. It if didn't, I'd have Ratchet look at ya-"

"No!" Jazz jumped at his charge's sudden enthusiasm. "No doctor needs to...to...l-l-l-" She put her head in her knees. "Forget it," she mumbled.

Jazz hesitated. "Bel, I know ya ain't having problems down there...an' I know it's hard with yer folks around, but have ya tried self stimulation?"

"I-I've t-t-tried but it t-takes to l-l-long."

"Have you tried stimulating your clitoris?"

Bel lifted her head to stare at Jazz. "A...cli-whatis?"

Jazz paused to consider his charge's answer. He had to. If he didn't he would explode. "Your clitoris," he repeated. "The height of female pleasure...?" A blush, but no words. "It's right above your vag-"

"Gah!" She covered her ears. "Don't say it!"

"Bel, are you...? Am I missing something?" No answer. "Bel, you did pick up that packet from the office that you promised me you would get, right...?" More blushing. Her head went back down between her knees. "Lana," he growled. "You promised-"

"I know!" she cried. Her body shook again as she sobbed into her knees. "I-I k-k-know but I c-c-c-can't-t-t."

Jazz calmed down slightly as he listened to his charge cry. He huffed. "Bel-"

"Do you know how embarrassing that is? Going into an office filled with adults and ask them to give me a packet from sex ed...and having to explain that?"

Jazz felt a processor ache coming on. He wanted this conversation to go away as much as his charge did...but the only way it would was if they talked it through. In order to talk about it, they both needed to know how everything worked. If his charge didn't even know the basics- "If I help you," he began sternly. "Will you go to Ratchet? I don't have to stay, but you-" She whimpered. "Bel, listen. I know it's difficult, darlin', but ya have ta." She lifted her head, throat constricting. "Ya have ta know this stuff. If ya don' wan' ta learn in a public settin', let Ratchet teach ya. At least let 'im talk ta ya. Mech's bound ta patient-doctor confidentiality. The only reason he hasn't yet is 'cause I told 'im you'd get that packet."

"I don't want the packet."

"Ta quote Ratchet...Why in blazes not?"

"That packet won't apply to me."

"Pretty sure yer the same as every other female yer age, Bel."

"I'm not."

Jazz hesitated. "Does it have ta do with ya likin' females? Ya know that there are other packets fer that. Ratchet can get ya some-Pit, I can get ya some if ya like...Bel? Ya hearin' meh?"

B'elanna stared at the radio for several seconds, slowly processing the information. "Why are you...? Did you just...say that like it's normal?"

"Yeah. Why are ya talkin' like it ain't?"

"'Cause its wrong."

"Who told you that?"

Bel blinked, surprised that Jazz sounded angry. "It's a common concept in society, Jazz."

Jazz snorted. "Society's bogus."

"You haven't heard the people, Jazz. They say its a mental disorder-"

"Hogwash." Bel looked at the radio strangely. "It means-"

"I know what it means...It just doesn't sound like a 'Jazz' thing to say."

"Tryin' not ta swear here, kid. I'd like ta avoid Hatchet's evil wrenches if ya start spoutin' 'em."

Bel crossed her arms. "You'd be surprised how many swears I've heard in my own language. I'm not some brainless kid."

"Now who told ya that?"

"It gets implied alot by adults. They avoid topics and use tones with people my age that should only be reserved for a four year old." Even though I don't think you should talk down to anyone, regardless of age. Talking to a fourteen year old like they're four-What purpose does that serve? Besides fueling anger and low self-esteem...Then the adults ask us 'what our problem is.' Why are we so angry all the time? What makes being an adult so special? Age doesn't automatically equal maturity. There are mid-aged humans who are more mature than the Twins and they're...probably a million years old or something. No, wait...Bumblebee is...two million and a half...so that makes them...How old is Ironhide again? Well, he's still a spring chicken next to Megatron, so he's...a gazillion...? Is there even a number for how old some of these guys are? Bel scowled, leanning back against the cushions. "It feels like your treating me the same right now."

"Sorry, Bel. Its a habit. Still used ta ya bein' in the backseat during those family trips when ya were...Oh. Heh. Guess we ain't much better, are we?"

"You guys are usually better," Bel mumbled as she looked out the window to her right.

Jazz sighed. "Promise I'll be better, Bel."

"Sure."

"I'll get ya hot chocolate without marshmellows when ya have nightmares."

S'long as I still get that blessed liquid. "Sure."

"I'll tell the others ta treat ya older-like."

"Sure."

"I'll be your first holoform girlfriend."

"Su-" Bel narrowed her eyes at the radio. "Very funny."

"Hey, I wouldn't mind." :I get by with a little help from my friends.: "Least 'round base I could try ta, if yer too shy 'bout it 'round here."

"I appreciate the thought, but...I'd like you to remain my guardian. Not my...lover."

"Not even as a test run fo' the little stuff?" Bel raised an eyebrow. "Jus' throwing stuff out there."

"Why are you being so chill about this?"

"Cybertron don' have genders. Only thing we really get messed up 'bout now is the 'Cons 'cause they got a couple screws loose. Used ta be all dandy befo' the war. Ain't no sides ta choose from, jus' cities with different frame types. There weren't any problems with dating o' bondin' to a bot in a different sector 'less ya went into the Towers...Kinda like yer royal marriages with a 'lower class' humans. People grumble, but usually don' go crazy. Normally, though, love is love."

Bel tilted her head. "I can't decide if you sound patriotic...or like a hippie."

"Groovy, man."

Bel smiled. "Should I start calling you the Jazz-man?"

"Far out."

Bel slapped the car seat. :Oooh, baby, give it to me.:

Bel rolled her eyes, blushing. "Oh, hush...Can you give me the speal later?"

"S'long as ya listen later."

"I will."

"Great. Now...Wanna go watch Will&Grace in yer room? We got acouple hours 'til the rents get home."

Bel blinked. "You know what Will&Grace is?"

"What do ya think I do when I'm sitting out 'ere? Starin' at the sky?"

"But how do you...? Do you have cable in your head or something?"

"Yer pretty damn perceptive. Took Lennox a couple minutes fo' that one."

Bel smiled at the light curse and compliment. "Lucky guess. I'm guessing Lennox doesn't have time for sci-fi while getting shot at."

Jazz snorted as Bel got out. "Nope. Though all he has ta do is look us in the optic ta get his fill o' that genre."

"I can only imagine."

Jazz typical male holoform followed her out of the backseat. Luckily, it was still pouring so none of the nosey neighbors would see him. He followed Bel inside.

"Hey, Bel? Just as one o' those test runs...When we get up to yer room, can we cuddle?"

"No."

"Huggle?"

"No."

"Snuggle with yer snuggie?"

"My what? I don't have one of those."

"Drat...Pillow fight?"

"Jazz, do I have to tell Ratchet what videos you're watching?"

"Eh...Jazzy zipping lips shut now."

Bel turned to Jazz's holoform as it shut the door. "Smart mo-ooa! Re-Reverse!" Bel covered her eyes.

Jazz laughed. It still had a musical tone to it. "What's wrong, Bel? Thought ya wanted a female role model."

Not one that has exposed breasts I don't...I may be gay but I am not getting pegged as a pervert. "Can you just cover them or something?"

"Sure thing, miss prude...Better?"

Bel peeked through her fingers, sighing as she dropped them. "Better." Bel wacked him on the head. "Ow!" Jazz pouted. He rubbed his head as they walked up to Bel's room. "Girl, that hurt."

"Serves you right for teasing me."

"Oh, ya haven't seen teasin', girl-Ha!" Jazz ducked the second wack. "Geez!" The third one, however... "Okay, I surrender. I surrender! See my white flag?"

Bel blushed as Jazz innocently took off the bandana that was covering his chest and waved it in front of Bel's face. Bel huffed and turned toward her room. "Let's go watch Will&Grace Grace."

Jazz grinned. "Fine with meh, Will."