Jazz/Prowl story, because I love this pairing so much. With Decepticon!Jazz because the idea fascinates me ;)

Yes, this story will most likely eventually feature sticky smut, but I'll warn you when that time comes. Please leave a review to let me know what you think? :)

EDITED 19/9/13

"Prowl?"

"Prowl, sir." The tactician corrected dully, looking up from his reports to focus on Bluestreak, who had appeared in the doorway of his office.

"Yes, sorry." The young gunner smiled nervously. "Can I come in?"

Nodding in assent, Prowl straightened: his posture had slumped fractionally while he was doing his reports. "Can I help you?"

Bluestreak sat down opposite the older Praxian. "Um.. How are you doing?"

Sharp blue optics narrowed. "I am well. What is this about?"

A nervous laugh escaped Bluestreak's vocaliser before he could stop it. "What do you mean?"

Prowl stared blankly.

The younger doorwinger struggled to hold his piercing gaze, but looked away after a couple of seconds. "Me and Smokescreen were worried about you."

"I am fine, Bluestreak."

"Yeah, Smokey said you'd say that." Bluestreak fidgeted. "Thing is... You've been even more distant than usual. You should get out of your office more often."

Prowl's optics narrowed again. "Bluestreak. I appreciate your concerns, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

Uncomfortably shifting in his seat, the gunner's doorwings fluttered awkwardly. "I understand that, really. But we're worried. I mean... Sideswipe said that social contact is important for-"

"I do not have any particular interest in what Sideswipe has to say about my social life."

"Of course. Sorry." Bluestreak said quickly. "Um.. I brought you energon."

The tactician watched silently as Bluestreak took a cube of energon out of his subspace and placed it on the desk. "Thank you."

The smaller mech simply nodded and watched as Prowl took a measured sip of energon before placing it back on the desk. "Listen.. We're just trying to look out for you, you know? We're pretty much the last Praxians - we need to look out for each other. Right?"

Socially and emotionally challenged as he was, Prowl saw the flicker of pain that passed through the younger mech's optics. "Of course."

Bluestreak nodded, taking a deep intake. "Yeah. Okay. Um... So you'll be more sociable?"

It was a struggle not to roll his optics. "Bluestreak-"

"Okay, okay!" The youngest Praxian laughed. "I'll go."

Prowl watched as the younger mech waved and left the room. He drained the remainder of his cube, and looked back to his reports.

He had only been alone for a moment when he got a comm. from Optimus.

/All senior officers to the main command deck.\\

He was on his feet immediately, and almost half way out the door before the comm. ended. As much as reports and paperwork usually cleared his processor, Bluestreak's visit had been an unwanted distraction. Hopefully, this meeting would prove to be useful, and not a waste of time.

As he walked down the corridors of the Iaconian Autobot Base, several Autobots avoided him none-too-subtly. He didn't take it personally, of course - he never did. As he walked however, one particular bot fell into step beside him. "Spectrum." He greeted without glancing at the mech beside him.

"Prowl." The head of Special Ops replied evenly. "How are you?"

Despite himself, Prowl felt a slight twinge of irritation at the question. "I am fine."

The smaller mech hummed thoughtfully. "I heard Bluestreak came to see you."

Prowl turned his deadpan stare on the Special Ops mech as they walked. Spectrum was a good looking bot: his body was streamlined and slim, as most special ops mechs were. He had silvery paint that shimmered when he moved (and was no doubt very expensive), and standard blue optics.

"You were eavesdropping." Prowl stated blandly, frowning disapprovingly at his colleague.

"Of course." Spectrum said easily, not even a little ashamed. "And I agree with our dear sniper very much. You could do with some social activity."

If Prowl had been a lesser mech, he would have snorted. As it was, he flicked his doorwings once before they became motionless again. "I would rather not discuss this right now."

"Of course." Spectrum inclined his head as they reached the entrance to the command deck. He nodded to the door. "After you."

Murmuring his thanks, Prowl entered the room first. He nodded his respectful greetings to Optimus, before walking purposefully over to a place at the already full table. Spectrum followed behind him easily, sliding into the chair next to him.

Optimus nodded at their arrival and stood up. "Very well, I believe that's everyone. Now - you all know why you are here. Prowl?"

The tactician nodded and stood up, standing rigidly with his arms behind his back. "Thank you, sir. Nine orns ago, a troop of Autobot spies entered a known Decepticon base in Kaon. They have not returned, and have become unreachable through comm. links. For this reason, myself and Spectrum, Head of Special Operations, have devised the following plan to enter the Kaon base and rescue our troops."

A couple of bots rolled their optics at Prowl's stiff formality, but most were silent and attentive as Prowl explained his tactical plan with the help of Spectrum. When they had finished, Prowl cast his optics around the table. "Are there any questions?"

A white and blue mech, who Prowl's facial recognition scanners told him was named Mirage, spoke up. "Have you considered the possibility of the Decepticons spotting us and raising the alarm once we get inside?"

A snort sounded from the Head of Special Ops.. "You're insulting him by even considering that he has not run every single possibility through his processor. It's his job."

Mirage scowled and sat back in his seat, looking scolded. Prowl cleared his vocal processor. "Yes. I have. The simple solution would be to get out as soon as possible. But, if you manage to follow my plan, the Decepticons will not even know that you have been there until you're gone."

Nodding thoughtfully, Optimus said, "Thank you, Prowl. I believe that Breakaway has something to add."

Breakaway, one of the few femme spies that worked with Spectrum, stood and nodded respectfully to Optimus. "Yeah. Well, the Kaon base ain't known fer it's fanciness. It ain't the head o' Decepticon operations, but it's still pretty impo'tant. There're a few dangerous 'cons tha' ya gotta watch yer back for: It's rumoured Soundwave's there." A small whisper went through the gathering of bots, before they fell silent to listen to Breakaway's report. "Ya all know why he's bad. Another one ya gotta watch out for is their Special Ops mech. We don't got much info on him, because the only bots tha' ever survive encounters wi'h him are pretty much on'y able ta stutter his name. So all we got is the designation 'Jazz'. We don't even know what he looks like. So ya gotta be careful, 'cause this base ain't gon'be easy ta break into. It's gon'be ever harder ta break out of with extra bots. Y'all listen ta Prowl, an' you'll be fine."

The head tactician nodded acknowledgement to the femme as she took a seat again. Optimus nodded and stood, immediately recapturing everyone's attention. "Spectrum, I believe you will be leading your own team of Autobots under Prowl's supervision."

"Yes sir."

"Very good. You may get ready to leave."

Prowl and Spectrum stood at the same time. The Special Ops mech grinned at the stoic tactician beside him. "This is going to be fun. I can tell."

/i\\

Everything was going according to plan. They had gotten in successfully, and were making good progress towards getting to the brig.

Every enemy they came across was disabled silently and quickly, before being stuffed and hidden in a nearby storage closet or something.

Prowl and Spectrum were working well together, as usual.

But they didn't even consider the possibility that they might have been being followed.

Swinging on the metal rafters on the ceiling high above them, a lithe silver frame danced after them. He was fast enough so he didn't lose sight of them, yet slow enough that it barely cost any extra energy.

A red visor gleamed in the darkness as he followed the Autobot intruders as they stormed towards the brig to save their companions. They were good. Well trained. He had to admire that.

He was just better.

One particular Autobot had caught his attention; the reason he was following the group instead of simply murdering them all. He was clearly of Praxian design, and he wore it proudly. His red chevron practically gleamed, and his doorwings flared over his back gracefully. Those doorwings were incredibly distracting.

The Praxian had unwittingly saved his companions lives by simply being himself. By catching the attention of the Decepticon above him.

Jazz didn't make a sound as he swung himself from rafter to rafter after his prey. It amused him to let them come so far into the base only for him to ruin their hopes of ever escaping. Megatron had told him not to harm the last group of Autobots that had entered as they could be used for blackmail, and he had done so grudgingly. But Megatron had said nothing about a rescue team.

The grin that stretched acrossed his face was simply predatory as the group of Autobots reached the brig and pushed their way inside. He had to give them credit for being able to make their way so far into the base without setting off the alarms. Although, he gave most of the credit to the Praxian mech. It was clear that he was in charge.

There wasn't a sound as he dropped from the ceiling to the floor. The normal clang of metal feet hitting metal floor was absent, so none of the Autobots had any warning he was behind them. He decided to keep quiet and wait until they noticed.

From behind, Jazz could admire the Praxian mech's exquisite doorwings. He had always had a fixation on wings; whether he was pulling them off a prisoner, fondling them on a lover, or simply admiring them on a passing frame, they fascinated him. He had seen more impressive ones, of course - a Seekers impressive wings would practically shame a doorwinger into hiding.

But he had never seen doorwings so perfectly controlled. Wings were often an outlet of emotions - they twitched when nervous, flared when angry or threatened, and drooped when sad. And yet this mechs doorwings hadn't moved from their erect place since Jazz had laid optics on them. That took a kind of self control he couldn't imagine.

The object of his current fixation was following the group of bots, lead by a mech with stupid looking shimmery paint, down to the bottom of the brig, where their allies were being held captive.

"Stay there, we're going to get you out." The silver mech was saying to them.

The Praxian looked around, but Jazz had already melted into the darkness. If he didn't want to be seen, he would not be seen. The Praxian turned back to his companions. "We must hurry."

Jazz grinned at the sound of his voice. It was deep and soothing, and tight and controlled at the same time. He briefly wondered what it would take to break that control, and in that moment he knew he wasn't going to hurt the Praxian or his group. This time.

"I know." The silver mech grunted back as he deactivated the energon bars and freed the captives. "The Decepticon's could-"

The alarm went off suddenly; a loud, wailing klaxon. Jazz was mildly disappointed that he hadn't gotten a chance to study the interesting Autobot mech for longer.

"Slag!" The silver bot cursed as he ushered the prisoners down the hall.

The Praxian straightened up. "Does everyone remember the plan for this scenario?" He called over the klaxon.

Most of the bots nodded.

"Then go." The Praxian was completely dispassionate - at complete odds to the prisoners, who had begun to panic.

"Wait, sir! He'll come back!" One whimpering mech was seemingly having a breakdown.

The Praxian stared at him. "Who will come back?"

"The one-opticked mech." He whimpered.

"Has he harmed you?" The Praxian asked as the other Autobots trickled out of the brig to execute the 'plan' - it seemed that they were simply splitting up and all going in different directions.

"N-no. He just.. He stares."

The black and white doorwinger eyed up the panicking mech, as if trying to evaluate whether or not the mech was joking. "Follow Spectrum." He said at last, pointing at the silver mech, who nodded and went for the door.

The Praxian was the last Autobot to leave. He was also the one Jazz followed.

The Decepticon couldn't help but be impressed by this mech's obvious knowledge of the base. The other 'cons had worked so hard to keep the schematics of the base secret - Jazz held back a giggle at the thought of Soundwave working so hard over information that had leaked.

Suddenly, he noticed that the Autobot had taken a wrong turn. He was headed towards Shockwave's lab. That wouldn't do at all.

"Hey." Jazz stepped out of hiding so the Praxian could see him. "You're goin' the wrong way."

The Autobot whirled around, blaster already trained on the saboteur in front of him. "Do not move."

A sharp smirk curled across his face. "Please. Don't embarrass yourself. Ah could kill ya before you so much as pull the trigger."

The Praxian didn't move; every joint in his body was locked tensely. His cold blue optics followed Jazz as the smaller mech loped towards him. "What do you want?"

The smirk shifted into a grin. "Nothin'. I just wanted ta tell you that you were goin' the wrong way."

The Autobot remained motionless. "You expect me to trust you?"

Jazz's grin only widened, and leaned casually against the wall, folding his arms over his chassis. "Sure, why not? Plus, you're headin' straight for a place ya don't wanna go."

Though he stayed locked in place, the black and white mech's optics flickered behind him slightly. "Where would that be?"

The saboteur's grin didn't falter, but his visor darkened. "Ah told ya. Someplace ya wouldn't wanna go. Why don't ya follow meh?" The Praxian mech seemed to still slightly. Jazz could practically see the hardware in the other mechs processor as it worked. "Or ya could stay here and wait for the other Decepticon's ta find ya." Jazz added helpfully. "But they prob'ly wouldn't be as friendly as meh."

That seemed to make up the Autobot's mind. "Very well." He said stiffly. "Lead the way."

He whirled around, leading the Autobot in the correct direction. "So, you come here often?"

The Autobot ignored the question, looking around warily as he followed Jazz. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doin' what?"

"Helping me."

The shorter mech rolled his shoulders in a shrug as they walked. "How do ya know Ah ain't leadin' ya into a trap instead?"

The Praxian didn't even blink. "I do not. That is why I wish to know your motives for helping me."

Jazz grinned even wider at the mech's stiff and formal way of talking. "Maybe Ah just think you're interestin'. There ain't many interestin' mechs around this base, ya know?"

The mech made a funny sound that almost sounded almost like a snort. "I can not say that I hear that often."

"Hear what? That you're interestin'?" Jazz asked curiously.

"Indeed." The Praxian said. He seemed calm, which Jazz found fascinating. Most mechs in his position would be panicking and crying. Jazz doubted that this Autobot even knew who he was.

"Hmm." Jazz said thoughtfully. "Ya never told meh your name."

"I don't think that I should disclose that information under these circumstances." The Praxian said stoically as he followed Jazz's lead down the corridors. They were headed down a hall that hadn't been on the original schematics - one of Jazz's secret shortcuts.

"So if we had met under different circumstances, ya'd tell meh your name?"

"Perhaps." The Praxian said evenly. "If necessary. Although you never told me your designation, either."

"We're nearly there."

"Where?"

"Outside. That's where ya wanna go, yeah?"

"Yes." He confirmed cautiously, doorwings twitching uneasily. "I assume you would expect some form of payment in return for your assistance."

The Decepticon tilted his head thoughtfully, as if it hadn't occurred to him. "Hmm.. Maybe.. How 'bout your name?" He asked with a grin as they arrived at a hidden exit.

The doorwinger straightened as Jazz opened the door. "That... Is that all?"

Another sharp grin. "Of course."

"Prowl."

Jazz tilted his head as his optics roved the tall frame from behind his visor. "Prowl.." He repeated. "Suits ya."

The Praxian inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I very much appreciate your help."

A snicker escaped the saboteur's vocaliser, and he leaned in closer. "Right. Ah think ya should know that once Ah develop a fascination with somethin', Ah don't let it go easily. And you, Prowl, fascinate meh."

Prowl's pretty blue optics met Jazz's deep red visor. "Is that so?"

He stepped forwards, purposefully invading the Autobot's personal space. "Hope it doesn't bother ya. Ah think we'll be seeing each other again real soon."

The tactician didn't flinch back from the sudden proximity of the smaller mech's face, but he did frown disapprovingly at him. "Boundaries."

Jazz barked out a laugh as he stepped back. He was honestly, pleasantly surprised. It was refreshing to meet a bot who wasn't afraid of him.

Ignoring the laugh, Prowl drew his shoulders back. "I am sure we will." He continued Jazz's line of conversation. "I look forward to being able to thank you properly next time we meet."

Raising an invisible optic ridge behind his visor, the 'con smirked. "Was Ah really supposed ta take that seriously and not as a sexual invitation?"

"Yes." The word was completely and totally deadpan.

A frown appeared behind the red visor, "Ah get the impression that you don't get sexual invitations much."

"On the contrary, I get them more often than I would be comfortable with. I simply do not accept them."

The red visor brightened in interest. "Why not?"

"Perhaps I will tell you next time we meet." Prowl said dryly, suddenly aware of how much time he had wasted talking to this unusual Decepticon when he should have been escaping. "You know, usually when a Decepticon helps an Autobot, it is usually a trap, or they are planning to defect."

"This ain't a trap, and Ah don't plan on defectin' anywhere, cutie."

Prowl, who had been more or less stoic up until this point, raised his optic ridges in surprise. "What did you just call me?"

"Ah called ya cutie. Ah think it suits ya almost as well as 'Prowl' does." The answer was casual, but the grin spoke volumes of exactly how amused the saboteur was. "Ah'm sure Ah'll be seein' plenty of ya, whether Ah defect or not."

Still thrown off at being called 'cutie', Prowl could only blinked as he was pushed towards the door. "Wait," The tactician paused before he disappeared out the door. "You never told me your name."

A delicate shrug met his question. "Ah like to keep some things mysterious, y'know? Maybe Ah'll tell ya next time."

Prowl watched as the silver mech backed away into the shadows, disappearing completely. Even his spark signature vanished. "Very well." Prowl murmured, finally turning to the door and pushing outside. To his surprise, he was back where Spectrum's team had originally broken in.

"Prowl!"

Turning at the call of his name, Prowl saw Spectrum beckoning him towards the group. He hurried over to them, nodding his greetings. "Is everyone here?"

"Yes. It's time to go."

As they left, no one noticed the red visor watching Prowl's back.

/i\\

"You say this mech helped you?" Optimus said thoughtfully.

Prowl nodded. "Yes sir."

Everyone else in the conference room was silent, watching the Autobot leader think. "Did he seem liable to defect?"

It was clear that the tactician had already thought about this. "No. But I feel that could change, given time. This mech seemed to know his way very well around the base - I believe he could be important. Important enough to know the location of other Decepticon bases, perhaps."

Nodding thoughtfully, the Prime began tapping his finger of his chin. "We will hold out hope. Other than your unexpected detour, the rescue mission went without any problems?"

"Yes sir. Ratchet is looking over the rescued Autobots at present."

"Very good. I believe Mirage managed to obtain Decepticon files before you left?"

Taking his cue, the blue and white spy stood with his arms behind his back. His nose was slightly less stuck up in the air than usual, but only because he was addressing Optimus. "I hacked into the mainframe of the base before I escaped to meet up at the rendezvous point. I had to do it quickly, however, because Soundwave had become aware of my presence. I managed to extract the following files onto a hard drive." The spy directed everyone's attention to a large screen on the wall behind the large table. "This is a known Decepticon hotspot in Kaon. It's one of the most notorious black markets in the city - most of the Decepticons weapons are traded here. If we can somehow manage to close it down, we may gain an advantage."

"Aren't those new twin recruits from Kaon?" Ironhide spoke up suddenly. "They might know the territory. Their records aren't exactly clean."

Optimus nodded thoughtfully. "We will have to ask. Continue, Mirage."

Sitting upright, Prowl gave his unequivocal attention to the information gathered by Mirage even as the bots around the table struggled not to fall into recharge. Several files later, Mirage said "And the last file I managed to pull is one that will hopefully be-"

"The last one?" Ironhide interrupted with a groan, scratching his helm. "Good. Think I was driftin' off into recharge there."

Scowling at the interruption, Mirage raised his voice. "Anyway. The final file isn't complete - I had to cut the connection because Soundwave released a virus into the system so I couldn't download any more files. But, it's a lot more information than we previously had on the mech. I assume you all remember yesterday, when we discussed the danger of Jazz, the Head of Special Ops for the Decepticons." There was a general murmur of assent from everyone in the room. "Well, we now know what he looks like."

A picture of the mech came up on the screen, and Prowl's engine stalled in shock. It was the mech that had helped him. "That's Jazz?"

"Yes." Mirage glanced around to Prowl.

The tactician frowned. "He can not be as dangerous as is rumoured."

A delicate optic ridge was raised condescendingly. "On the contrary, he is perhaps even more dangerous - we have no idea the extent of his insanity."

"Insanity." Prowl repeated, remembering what the mech - Jazz - had said to him. Once Ah develop a fascination with somethin', Ah don't let it go easily.

"Yes. He has done unspeakable things to our bots. He needs to be taken out, and now we have a face to the name! We can plan properly now. He's not a ghost anymore."

Prowl was startled to see Optimus nodding thoughtfully. "If he is truly as dangerous as you say, you may have a point."

"But if he defects to our side, it would be a great tactical advantage!" Prowl inserted, feeling strangely protective of the mech who had saved him.

The Prime nodded again, frowning. "He may not even consider it, however. Is there any other information on him in the file?"

The white spy shook his helm. "No creation date, no place of origin, no creators. If not for the picture, it would be as though he didn't exist.

"I will think on it. For now, relax and recuperate. You have earned it." Optimus gave them a small smile, before excusing them.

The last thing Prowl looked at before leaving the conference room was that familiar visored face on the monitor.

TBC