Author's Note: Yey for more one shots! This one just kinda popped up on it's own so I thought I'd finish it. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten all the ones that are still not finished. I think it's a total of five fics to finish. Anyway, as I said, this I just wrote up for fun because I love to write these two. I've heard a few people say they wanted to get to know Jynx a bit more so this is a POV by her. Enjoy :) (I don't own the Transformers, I only own Jynx. And I think Patchjob is mentioned. I own him too ;))

Rock for Two

There are just some weeks you never want to repeat. This week was one of them. Blow off just one arm and everyone's on your case! It's not like Ironhide hadn't done it before anyway. I even got into a fight with Jazz over it, since then he's barely talked to me. Jazz is never mad, much less at me. I admit I shouldn't have chucked that wielder at him, but he did duck so technically I didn't hit him. So why is he so mad?

Because I can't control my temper.

Jazz doesn't have a temper to control, really. He's so easy going and carefree. I wish I could be like that. Just throw all your cares out the window and go off on a limb to do anything you want. I can't do that, no matter how much I try. If I don't have something right under my thumb…it bothers me. Not so much people though- it's just circumstances. If I can't control what's happening.

So you can say I'm a little high strung and I don't have a good temper. I'm klutzy and awkward. Why Jazz ever fell in love with me in the first place I don't think I nor he will ever understand.

Anyway, as I was saying. I was on my way to my workshop to blow off a little steam. Hammers and fire wielding torches are an ill-tempered femme's best friend. Or mech in Ratchet's case. That's when I found a note on my door- Jazz's scrawl to be sure. He oughtta be a doctor with writing like his. Honestly, I can see why Prowl makes him type reports.

"Oh, no you don't. Go to the Lounge, you'll find me under the countertop."

Now, I know Jazz aint the biggest of Autobots but there was no slagging way he'd fit under there. But what the slag, why not? Maybe that meant he wasn't mad at me anymore. Slag I hope so. So with that, I headed for the Lounge. A lot of the other guys were there, watching that TS or TV or what ever that little box was called. Jazz seemed to like it a lot. Especially when those colorful cars were on it. I told him it looked like those cars where casing their tails. Ya know, like those fuzzy four legged things did. Hey give me a break, I've only been on Earth for a month. I haven't learned all their names yet.

I went to the bar as the note had instructed and looked under the counter. No surprise. No Jazz. I grumbled something and got up to leave when Hound came up and reached under the table.

"Here." Hound handed me a small case, "Jazz said he didn't think you'd get it so he told me to help."

"If he didn't talk in riddles I wouldn't have to have help."

"Don't shoot the messenger." He held up his hands in his defense.

"I wont shoot you," I grunted and stomped out of the room, "I'll shoot your employer." Hound just laughed as the door shut behind me. I thought Hound was weird before he left Cybertron. Earth hasn't helped any. Now I really don't get him. And why did he take the name of those fuzzy four legged things anyway?

I turned over the case in my hands. It looked like a DC or CD thing. Now, these I know Jazz really loves. I'm always finding them where ever I go. Once I found one in the recharge berth and ended up with it stuck in my armor in the middle of the night. Jazz slept on the floor for two days for that. Hey, don't yell at me, he volunteered for it. Sorta.

On the cover there was another note. This one read: "Don't open me. Go find my friend. He's at my desk behind you and me."

What the slag was that supposed to mean? Well, I had already found the first clue. Might as well figure out this one too. So I turned around and went to the command center to Jazz's computer. You could tell which one was his as there was bumper stickers around the monitors and toy figurines of cartoons on the top of the monitor, a picture frame with a photo taken of us when Jazz dragged me to some concert next to the monitor. I picked up the frame and held it in front of me. I remembered this concert. We had so much fun at it, even though I had no idea what the musicians were trying to say. They screamed all the lyrics.

"It's behind the frame."

"Primus!" I weezed, "Prowl, don't you know not to sneak up on people like that?"

He smirked- or at least a smirk by Prowl standards, "My name is prowl. I am supposed to be good at it."

"Yeah, well don't prowl, Prowl." I reached and pulled out a small package. Jazz must have tried to wrap it. Poor mech, his hands were just a little too big for wrapping paper. There was a small card tied to the package; again with Jazz's scrawl all over it.

"Take me and my friend to our rock outside. We want to see the sunset."

Our rock. I smiled and left the control room, shouting my thanks to Prowl for helping me anyway. Even if he nearly made my pump skip.

You're probably wondering what "our rock" is, right? Well, you see, ever since me and Jazz first decided to take up our relationship again- back on the Fourth of July- we kept going back to this rock up near the top of the volcano. I've gotten better at the climb since then, I'll have you know.

Sure enough, I could see him sitting at the top. I know he just loves to see me try to climb this thing each time we go up here. It's times like this, that I hate this planet. Earth had to be organic and messy…I can hardly climb stairs on Cybertron and then they throw hiking mountains in the mix…I'm sunk. At least this time I only slipped twice.

"I see ya found my friends, eh?" Jazz drawled. He was sprawled on the rock, leaning lazily up against the mountain side.

"Yeah. Ya know you have some talkative friends. Couldn't hardly get them to shut up." Jazz chuckled and took the package and DC-CD case thing as I sat down next to him. "So what's this all about? Notes, a rock for two?"

"Eh, ya had a hard week. Th' guys were kinda hard on ya fer blowin' 'Hide up. So, thought ya'd like a little surprise." He handed be the package back and put the CD thinger-maflaber in the player thing.

Air Supply.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek, "That's so sweet of ya, Spazz."

"I knew ya liked 'um. Found my Cds missin' th' other day."

"Er…yeah about that…"

Jazz just held his hand up. "Naw, s'okay. I'm jus' glad yer starting to like Earth music."

"Well, it's not bad I guess." I shrugged my shoulders, turning the package around in my hands. Jazz threw his arm around me and stilled my hands.

"Just open it, Love."

I carefully took off the paper so as not to hurt it. With Jazz, one never knows what to expect. I remember once he gave me a live petro rabbit. I could have shot him for it but we got a good laugh out of it later. I peeled off the last of the paper and there it lay; a container of energon shipped from Demircon- our home city-state.

"Jazz…how did you manage…?"

"I got connections." He grinned and opened the container, pouring a little in my glass and his. "I thought both of us could use a lil of this."

I chuckled, "Yeah you could say that."

Jazz smiled back and took a sip from his glass. We remained that way for a while, in the quiet of night, sipping high-grade and listening to love songs. Jazz kept tapping out the rhythm to the songs on my shoulder. I wanted the moment to last forever. But then, I say that every time he does something romantic for me. But right now…it was starting to nag at me. Why had he done all of this? If anything it should be the other way around. I was the one who almost stabled him.

"Love," I tilted my head up to see him.

"Humm?" He hummed, kissing my lips upside-down while his hands wrapping around my waist from behind. I had almost forgotten what I was supposed to be asking. He is an amazing distraction.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Forgive ya?" He stopped and looked at me, rising an optic ridge. "For what, baby girl?"

"Well you hardly said two words to me the whole week…I thought you were angry with me for throwing that wielder at you." I bowed my head.

"Oh. Ya mean when ya nearly made me inta a shish kabob?"

"Yeah, that."

Jazz grinned and rubbed my back. "I was…I aint anymore."

I looked down at my hands sheepishly, looking at the cup as the liquids swirled around. "I'm sorry about that… I didn't mean to throw the whole thing, I meant to throw that stupid cartoon alarm clock of yours at you but picked up the wielder instead. I know that's not much of an excuse but…" I sighed, leaning up against him. "I think I might have an anger problem."

Jazz was completely silent for a moment but then threw back his head and cackled. "No slag!" He wheezed laughing harder than I had intended with the jap.

I just crossed my arms and stared at him. Okay it was funny, but Primus! Finally he calmed down gasping out, "sorry, sorry."

I answered with an "uh huh."

"Awh com'on Jay. I didn' mean anythin' by it. It was funny!" He pleaded, still giggling a bit between each word.

I wasn't sure what to say after that. He knew what happened in my past. That whole episode with Patchjob and Hazard and Spades. I aint going to go there with this but jus' know there's a reason I'm…well…I have a temper. Not all the time though! It's like everyone makes me out to be a… what do the humans call it? That word for a femme fuzzy four legged thing…? But in all honesty, I'm not one all the time. Most of the time, I'd like to think I'm pretty easy to get along with. It's when I'm stressed that I bite off your head. I'm not good under pressure… I can have a good time going drinking with the guys. I can be romantic; if Jazz doesn't beat me to the punch. Most people wouldn't peg him as being a softy romantic but he is.

"Jynx," Jazz pulled on my shoulder to get me to look at him face to face. "I've always known ya had a temper. Ever since ya called yer boss a scum ball and walked out of th' workshop. I love ya fer it."

"How? You don't have a temper, you aren't clumsy. You're not stupid… or awkward. No one makes fun of you…" I muttered softly.

"Whoa! Where'd all that come from?" Jazz asked worriedly, pulling me to sit on his lap and wrapping his arms around me.

I shrugged, "I dunno." My optics still focused on the floor beneath me

"Ya aint any of those things…well clumsy maybe and the bad temper." He smiled at me and I had to smile back. It was infective. "I love ya even with all those things. We kinda complement each other. Maybe that's why we're so good t'gether. We're opposites." I felt his hand brush against my cheek and catch the wetness there. "Don't listen to those guys. Yer jus' not the typical femme. I like ya like that. I didn't want ta be bonded ta a perfect person. I love you."

I fought to keep a big ol' grin off my face but failed. I was lucky to find such a good guy; much less keep him. After all I put him through too.

I buried my head on his shoulder and hugged him tight, breaking it once and a while to kiss him. "I love you too, Spazz."

So that's the end of the story. I stayed out there all night with him, talking and…well talking. Leave it at that. And ya know, I figured out that, maybe the week wasn't that bad.

Not if it can end like that.