Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Oocness?
A/N: Prowl/Jazz was the winning couple of my poll. Thanks to all the people that voted! Here's the first fic for them. Tell me what you think of it.
Courting Jazz
It took vorns for it to happen, but when it finally did it took everyone by surprise. Because instead of Prowl hiding away in denial while citing a thousand an one logical excuses against it, it was Jazz who was sneaking around the Ark claiming Prowl had gone crazy. Things only got worse when Prowl began to actively pursue Jazz and the crew watched fascinated as their superiors became engrossed in one of the most bizarre mixture of courtship and hide and go seek.
Prowl onlined early with a smirk on his faceplates. He followed his usual morning routine, taking care of picking up the carefully wrapped package he left the night before on top of his desk before leaving his quarters.
Sunstreaker swore he heard him hum and Sideswipe claimed he was smiling cheerfully. Yet it was Mirage who confirmed Prowl left the package in front of Jazz's door one exact breem before the Porsche left his quarters.
No one saw Jazz for the rest of the day. Optimus Prime was considering sending his two officers to share a cell in the brig until they settled the matter between them, but they both managed to perform their tasks and hand in their reports on time.
Two months after the strange courtship began, Jazz had practically become a shadow lurking around the Ark without being seen and Prowl's happy mood had, strangely enough, increased. It was by that time Prowl began leaving his gifts inside Jazz's quarters.
The saboteur had never let anyone inside his room, and Prowl had never gotten an invitation. Yet the tactician used the override codes to, every afternoon before retiring to his quarters, leave a single package on top of Jazz's berth. Prowl made it a point to ignore the glares the special ops mechs sent his way since he began doing this.
It was Bumblebee who told the minibots Jazz was seriously fragged this time. He gathered the mechs under his command and left for a special maneuvers training. That didn't stop Prowl's ritual of leaving gifts and when the Porsche returned, followed by dented, scraped and exhausted mechs, the scream of outrage could be heard all over the Ark.
Prowl, who had been playing a game of chess with Smokescreen simply flicked a door wing at the sound and moved his piece. Smokescreen, figuring it would be better to retreat now before he found himself between a fragged off Porsche and a plotting Datsun, excused himself and hurried out of the rec room.
Prowl was slowly putting away the game when Jazz entered the rec room. The Datsun's only warning had been a snarl before the pain of having his door wings flat against the wall registered. Looking at the visored mech keeping him in place made Prowl wonder if he'd somehow pushed the Porsche too far.
"Jazz?" the cop car said, trying to move as his door wings protested the position they were forced into.
"What the frag do you want from me?" snarled the saboteur and Prowl reassessed the situation with a barely concealed smile.
"I thought it was obvious, Jazz," Prowl answered, vocalizer moduled for it to sound like a purr and he watched Jazz's shocked expression with satisfaction.
"You don't mean that." Jazz cried out, letting go of Prowl in favor pf pacing around the room, "Besides, isn't it too dangerous for the second in command to shower the third in command with gifts?"
Prowl shrugged, "I could give you a detailed list of all the things this crew does that is dangerous for the enemy to know, yet they continue doing it. Why should we be the only ones to abstain from what we want."
"We?" Jazz's voice sounded slightly hysterical, "There's no we. There can't ever be a we. Have you gone insane?"
Prowl's processor faltered, afraid he's made a slight miscalculation that changed the entire situation.
"Am I really that undesirable to you?"
"Primus no, Prowl, but if ya wanted a quick interface you didn't have to act like you were courting' me," Jazz said softly, still pacing, but more relaxed in his steps.
"What if I do not want a quick interface?" Prowl replied just as softly, "What if I really wanted to court you."
"WHAT?" Jazz cried, visor staring straight at him for a klik before he turned to leave the room.
Prowl watched him, knowing that if he didn't move now he would lose his one chance to reach the Porsche.
"JAZZ!" he yelled, making the other hesitate and allowing him enough time to grab on to the Porsche before he could leave the room.
"Let go of me, Prowl."
"Never," Prowl whispered in his audials, "Listen to me, Jazz. I will never leave you. I will never betray you. I will never ask for more than what you are willing to give me. I am not asking for a bond, Jazz. All I am saying is that I love you and that I wanted you to let me love you for as long as my spark pulsed in my chamber."
"Prowl, please."
"You do not have to say anything right now, but…" Prowl let the Porsche go before turning to pick up the scattered pieces of his game, "think about it, Jazz. Trust me."
The next day saw Prowl going back to his old schedule and careful observation told them there was no gift for Jazz. In fact, it was like the last couple of months had never happened. Taking a cue from Prowl's behavior, Jazz was soon spotted in the rec room organizing a party with Blaster.
No one asked what happened. No one dared to pity Prowl's obvious failed attempt at courtship. No one dared to ask Jazz why he'd chosen to run away. Optimus Prime watched them interact as if nothing happened and, for once, wished he'd gone through with the brig idea. That way he wouldn't be forced to watch Prowl's optics dim and his door wings hang low whenever no one was looking and he definitely wouldn't be forced to watch Jazz staring at Prowl when the other wasn't looking.
It took another human week watching the same thing that made Optimus approach his third in command.
"Having any regrets, Jazz?"
Jazz looked away from the monitors to look at Optimus, "Regrets, Sir?"
"About Prowl."
"Oh," was all Jazz said while shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"You do not have to tell me anything, Jazz. All I will say is that this war has been long and exhausting. It is a shame to let something as precious as love pass you by when you could offline at any given moment."
Jazz snorted, "Love's just a pretty tale that always ends in betrayal."
Optimus was shocked to have heard that from Jazz. He knew the special ops mechs had difficulties relating to others outside their field and that it was extremely rare for them to form relationships besides quick interface partners, but this…
"I never thought I'd hear something like that from you, Jazz. Do you really believe that or are you trying to convince yourself?" Optimus' voice was filled with sadness and Jazz found himself staring at the ground.
"What's love for ya, Sir?"
"Trust," Optimus replied before leaving to have a talk with both Ratchet and Smoskescreen about the special operations mechs.
Prowl was exhausted when he entered his room. He debated whether to get clean now or wait until the morning. Waiting till morning won and he made his way to the berth without bothering to turn on the lights.
He stopped short at the sight of something lying on his berth. He cocked his head and commanded the lights to turn on so he could have a better view without wasting energy using night vision.
Datapads filled with human book files. Several of them, bound with a blue ribbon and a tag attached to it. He read the tag, smile widening, and carefully rearranged his schedule to make time to read these data pads before recharge.
He would've started tonight, but he was seriously depleted and needed the recharge. His smile didn't waver though, and he re-read the tag to make sure his processor was not making things up.
"I won't say the words, Prowler because I don't believe in them, but I'll tell you this. I trust you. I liked your gifts and well, since you already courted me; consider yourself officially being courted by a spec ops mech. Trusting ya with my spark, Jazz."
Prowl refrained from saying anything, savoring the feeling and already anticipating the mech's next move. Prowl might not know what being courted by a spec ops mech would be like, but he was sure Jazz had not figured out he'd been courted by a tactician and everything went according to his calculations. After all, Prowl loved Jazz and he loved challenges. Now, to convince Jazz bonding was a good idea.