OK well i wasn't planning on uploading just this bit, but im havig trouble geting on with the next part, and whats more the next part will be quite significant, so i thought this would make an OK small second Chapter, and it is useful, and hopefully it'll keep you interested.
Hang in there, the Twins/Bee stuff WILL be in the next chapter!!!
For now i hope this makes you feel at least a tiny bit fuzzy inside X3
Prowl came online to cool, clean silence. As his processor slowly but effectively booted up, he started to register basic things, like the ever recognisable roof of the medical bay, and the feeling of a data feed cable in one of his neck inlets. It was a little bit longer before other things started to pass through his CPU… like why he was there and what he had been doing to land himself in the medi-bay.
"Welcome back, Prowl."
The tactician turned his remarkably clear head in the direction of the familiar voice.
His optics fell on the CMO and narrowed slightly. "I'm not sure the situation calls for such mirth, Ratchet."
The medic's knowing, sly grin only grew wider. "Now don't be like that, Prowl, I have every right to be happy that you and Bumblebee have been making such speedy recoveries. Especially given the stress you both must have endured while you were trapped down there together, all alone…"
Ratchet couldn't help but for his sentence to dissolve into a deep chuckle as the Datsun threw him an impressive scowl.
"You do remember what I said to you earlier about being chief tactician, don't you Ratchet?" he said, voice and optics cold as ice.
"Obviously YOU don't remember what I told YOU earlier… I'm just messing with you Prowl, it's too hard to resist. My confidentiality duties remain up-held." Ratchet replied in a kinder tone, but his optics sparked with mischief. "I even buffed the streaks off you both. Bit of a shame, really… Yellow does suit you well…"
Prowl threw the medic a soft grumpy 'humph' as he dissolved into giggles again. Prowl turned his faceplates away from the CMO so he wouldn't see the colour seeping into them. It was doubtful the medic knew that he had already been told that by someone else…
A someone else he was now staring straight at, he realised with a jolt. Lying in the berth next to his was Bumblebee. He too had wires connected to his neck inlets, but he had more leading into ports on the side of his chest plate. All the wires led to a mobile unit that had been placed between their berths. It was a large boxy piece of equipment with multiple screens and lights and made various little regulated noises as it monitored and ran diagnostic and action protocols through both him and the minibot.
Prowl felt a pang in his chassis as he realised Bumblebee had a feed to his spark as well as his processor. Generally a data link to the spark casing was only necessary in extreme cases.
"Don't worry. He'll be alright. It'll just take quite a while longer for my anti-viral software to completely download and refresh his systems. Not to mention his self repairs have a lot of micro-circuit damage to fix up. That code was a nasty fragger, you're lucky it didn't get that far through you."
"That wasn't luck." Prowl said softly, but he did not expatiate. Ratchet was silent as he mused on the tactician's statement. He knew it could just be Prowl's irrefutably logical side saying that… but he'd known the black and white 21C too long to not recognise the deeper meaning behind the simple, throw away words.
"You did the right thing by him Prowl. He's not gonna hate you for it. Only thing Bumblebee seems to have the capacity for hate for is 'Cons and the twin's games of 'toss the minibot'."
Prowl continued to stare at the prone yellow form, trying to see him as he always had before… rather than as the mech he'd had his fingers in, eliciting sweet sounds as he himself was driven by those small black servos to cry out in impassioned delight…
Prowl shook himself mentally, looking away. He wondered how long it would be before the mere sight of the minibot stopped setting of the memory files that very nearly caused his cooling fans to kick in.
Ratchet seemed to notice his reaction to Bumblebee though, even if he did manage to keep his core temp. in check.
"You won't have to worry about submitting a battle report to Prime, I've already covered it. However, you'll still have to answer to Jazz at some point, I don't wonder. And sooner is better than later."
The medic stated matter-of-factly. Prowl glanced over and met the red and white mech's optics.
He said nothing. He had avoided thinking much on the subject while he was carrying out the CMO's orders, but what he had been fairly sure of at the time was Jazz would not take it badly anyway… on the other side however…
Now his head was clear and processor unforged by stimulant signals, the task of telling his lover what he'd had no choice in doing seemed a lot more daunting.
"For the record Prowl, I don't think he'll take it badly. Might sulk for a while, but he never struck me as exceptionally clingy in the first place." Ratchet offered, as though he could read the tactician's now anxious processor.
Prowl cycled a sigh through his vents. A little chiming noise came from the big boxy piece of equipment next to him that he was hooked up to.
Ratchet strode over to it from where he had been organising his tools and pressed a few buttons, shutting off the regulated chiming.
"Ok, you're done Prowl. Clean as whistle, as Sparkplug would say, though I'm not sure that's such an accurate metaphor, given humans tend to get a lot of mouth lubricant fluids in wind instruments and don't clean whistles out much that I'm aware of…" The CMO prattled away as he gently unplugged the cable in Prowl's neck, disconnecting him from the machine. Prowl sat up and flexed his joints a little. He flinched slightly as he stretched his door-wings back. They always felt a little sensitive in the hinges after…
Prowl felt his faceplate heat up again and couldn't hide it from the CMO, who stood directly In front of him. Ratchet had missed none of his reactions, and pieced the body language together flawlessly given his experience as a medic. He grinned widely and slyly again. "Looks like Bumblebee got a crash course in Datsun anatomy down there too."
Prowl grimaced at him. But the colour stayed on his faceplate because he couldn't help the memory files still flashing across the fore of his meta. Ratchet's grin only widened as his suspicions were confirmed.
"Does Prime wish to debrief me?" Prowl asked, the merest inflection of apprehension in his quiet tones.
"Nope. I told you I already took care of it, I gave him a report on the incident on Bumblebee's and Your behalf, and being CMO it means my report can be an officiated substitute for yours. Prime has also allowed me to debrief you, which is what I've just done. You're free to go, but in saying that, I mean you're to go and get a cube of energon and head straight to your quarters for some recharge. And no going over any data pads, I mean it, you need the recharge for that download to properly install."
Prowl merely nodded in understanding as he slid off the berth and stood on stiff feeling leg struts.
"Will you comm. me when Bumblebee comes back online?" Prowl asked softly, his voice even and without trace of any particular feeling or inflection.
Ratchet gave him an inquisitive, gentle look (which Prowl knew was a rare look to receive from the normally gruff CMO ) before giving him a nod.
"He did you good, Prowl." Ratchet said simply before he returned to the machine that was still hooked up to the offline minibot, checking his progress.
Prowl gave him a slightly startled look before he left the medical bay, musing on the words.
He decided, as he walked through the corridors of the Ark, being greeted with more vigorous cheer than normal by those who passed him, that Ratchet was right. He was feeling… lighter. And yet, at the same time, his CPU was getting more crowded with new thoughts and realisations and complications relating to the underground incident between him and Bumblebee.
In fact, as he walked into the rec. room, he realised that light feeling was merely an afterglow… and would very soon fade to be replaced by all the worrying nagging lines of code that his logic circuits were not helping him with in the least.
Ratchet was right, of course. The sooner he told Jazz, the better… but then his processor began running through the possible reactions the saboteur might have.
Jazz was easy going, but more so professionally than privately. He dealt with his uneasiness in private, what there was of it. If anything ever did manage to bother him, he would postpone dealing with it until he was alone, or more recently, until he could have a private moment with the 2IC. Prowl was always happy to give Jazz advice when he needed it, and more than Prowl knew, the head of special ops had become dependant on him for his calm, logical, assuredness. It was a stabiliser and a comfort to someone who had to be fluid and ungrounded.
While Prowl might not be aware just how much Jazz relied on him emotionally, he knew acutely that he could not always predict his often illogical lover. And while Ratchet was right in his assessment that Jazz was not consistently clingy or over-possessive, he could get very… intense, when he was in an attentive mood towards the tactician. It was possible he might feel very intense if he found his lover had had to get intimate with another… oh, he would get over the act itself, it had been necessary, and what was more it was to save one of his best team-members…
But the fact that Prowl had enjoyed it. He couldn't lie to himself. He remembered the way the embarrassment and awkwardness had so quickly melted away to be replaced by fresh, true passion, which he hadn't experienced since he first fell for Jazz, and yet he had recognised it instantly as the same feeling, if not perhaps a little different in it's… flavour…
It was these feelings he was afraid Jazz would be hurt by…
Prowl took the energon ration he had dispersed and gave a curt nod to Wheeljack as he caught his optics and waved cheerily at the 2IC.
Prowl was still lost in his own, very unlike him thoughts, as he made his way slowly back out of the crowded rec. room, making distracted responsive acknowledgments to the mechs greeting him.
He mused on the different kinds of feelings he had towards Jazz and now Bumblebee.
Jazz was spicy, if he had to choose a word… sincere, but certainly not tentative, and vehement in his efforts to please his lover when they were together.
Bumblebee… while he had that curious coy streak, no doubt developed in his desperate lack of intimate relationships, he still retained that kind, deeply loving nature, which was exceptionally warming. There was still some feeling of innocence with Bumblebee. While Jazz didn't have this, Prowl knew there was the capacity for hurt within the saboteur, a hurt he may or may not express once he learned that Prowl had feelings for more than just him. Would he be disappointed? Perhaps he only ever wanted Prowl to himself, and it wouldn't be unfair to assume that a mech like Prowl wasn't likely to ever develop feelings for another mech, it had been so hard for Jazz to coax them out of him towards him in the first place. But they HAD been there, it had just been so new to Prowl at the time he hadn't recognised it very quickly.
But the newfound affections for the yellow minibot had taken mere cycles to emerge. Something else that might sting the saboteur…
"Heeey Prowler! You're looking mighty fine, Ratchet musta fixed ya up good!"
Prowl very nearly jumped, a slight twitch of his wings the only indication of surprise as he felt a very familiar arm thrown over his shoulders. Jazz had caught him just before he was out the door.
A thrill of both ecstatic affection and anxious fear fluttered through his spark as his lover grinned at him, visor glowing happily.
"Jazz." was all the tactician said, but his quiet tone said all that he needed it to, no other words necessary. Jazz beamed, recognising the affection that no other mech would have picked from the mere mention of the saboteurs' name.
"I heard you saved my best spy." Jazz went on, unaware that the statement made Prowl's spark pulse just that bit faster with well hidden nervousness.
"I really oughta give ya a proper thankyou for that." He added in a low, suggestive tone Prowl usually found exceptionally inviting… but right now it made his tank churn with the slightest unease…
He would have loved nothing more right now than to take Jazz with him to his quarters and re-establish their affections the way they hadn't been able to in orns, but apart from the internal turmoil of how to break his new feelings over a certain other mech he'd like to introduce to their growing bond, he had Ratchet's orders to think about. And he doubted the anti-viral software would install properly if he went and interfaced the pit out of Jazz before it had integrated into his systems properly. Systems that were STILL, he realised, reeling from his LAST overload.
"I'm sorry Jazz, but I'll have to take a raincheck, as the humans say. Medics orders I'm afraid, anti-viral software download. I'm supposed to drink my energon and take some recharge like a good mech. No pre-recharge data-pad reviews or other pleasant activities before either of those things I'm sorry to say." the tactician explained calmly and with the slightest tint of regret to his tone as he leaned a little into the blue and white mech's side.
Jazz loved Prowl's oh so subtle shows of emotion, because he knew just how truly deep the tactician's feelings ran with him, and it spoke more volumes to the saboteur than any open displays of exaggerated affection ever could.
"Ah, I getcha. Wouldn't wanna get the Hatchet on your case, but slag I've been missin' ya Prowler. Hey, how's Bumblebee doin' by the way? I heard he was pretty bad by the time they got t'ya both. Inferno said you were pretty shaken up…"
Jazz's tone turned from coy to concerned as he accepted he'd have to wait a little longer to enjoy his free time back with the Datsun.
Prowl merely bowed his head a little. "Ratchet said he will be up and about again soon. I must admit, I thought they might have been too late… the virus progressed faster and more alarmingly than we anticipated… you know he took a shot that was meant for me?" Prowl said quietly, choosing his words carefully, teetering on saying something, on possibly dropping the details of the virus, perhaps Jazz would work out for himself what he'd had to do, he knew a lot about less conventional forms of field repair, given the need for them in his line of work. Primus, would it be any easier if Jazz ended up broaching the subject, rather than him having to tell the mech he loved that he'd gone and fragged another bot because he had to, but he'd liked it so much more than he thought he would…
Jazz noted the strange stance and phrase of words that the tactician took, but he put it down to some awed sense of gratitude towards the yellow spy whom he was probably yet to show his thanks to… the fact that Bumblebee was still out was probably making him feel guilty to top it off.
"Yea, I knew. And then you went and got yourself infected anyway tryin' ter help him over-ride the virus. Not very like you to do somethin' so stupid. Thought you'd know only medics had the software for that kinda thing." Jazz said quietly, but he was beaming in a way that suggested he was proud of what Prowl did.
"It was rather foolish in hindsight. I do not regret it though, I managed to buy him some time… although it almost wasn't enough." Prowl answered, his processor screaming at him for perpetuating the lie to Jazz (it was obviously the 'official' story, though he had guessed that when Ratchet had first reached them in that tunnel and yelled at him for doing what Jazz had just re-iterated he had apparently done), but his logic chip assured him that technically, he wasn't actually lying to the saboteur… he didn't regret the actions he HAD taken, and it HAD bought Bumblebee time… he just wasn't clarifying exactly what the actions were…
"Ya do seem like you could use a good recharge. I'll letcha go Prowler, but don't think ahm gonna forget that raincheck." He said quietly, one side of his visor flickering dim before alighting again, in what Prowl knew was a wink.
Prowl almost regretted the black hand slipping away from his shoulder, but did not miss the casual brush against one of his door-wings, which twitched rather sharply in response, still very over-sensitive.
Jazz gave him one last quizzical look at the (for Prowl) over-reaction.
"You are right. The virus has been cleared from my systems, but unfortunately my sensor net is still on edge from it." he cringed inwardly as he actually did lie, but he was careful not to let the regret show on his face.
Jazz seemed satisfied with the answer. "Slaggin' shame I can't make use of that. Coulda blown your processor… have to double my efforts once you're fightin' fit again." Jazz promised before he left with a coy smile and sauntered off into the rec room and back over to the twins, who it seemed he'd been watching a holo-vid with before he had caught sight of Prowl.
Sighing through his vents, Prowl walked with a little more pace towards his quarters. He met less mechs now, as most were either starting shifts or already spending their off-time in the rec room.
Prowl reached his door and punched in the code, taking a sip of his energon as he entered. He was going to walk through his office and straight to his quarters, when something caught his eye.
He went to his desk and picked up a small coded data-chip. He recognised the type, it was from Red-alert. Curious, and thinking he wasn't technically defying Ratchets orders, as the medic had said nothing about watching vid-files, he grabbed a data pad, the info-chip, and went to his recharge room.
Once he had settled on his berth, still sipping his Energon contentedly, he slipped the chip into the data pad port and accessed the text file attachment before going anywhere near the vid-file. He knew how this worked. It was a present. Whenever Red-Alert seemed to think he needed cheering up or had something he particularly wanted to share with the 2IC out of great amusement, he would drop off one of these un-assuming but particular chips, and generally there would be some small note of prologue before Prowl was to view whatever it was that Red-Alert had caught someone doing on the Ark.
Prowl read the short message with curious bemusement in his optics, taking another swig of energon.
~Welcome back, thought you might enjoy this. He seemed to. -Red~
Truly intrigued by the message from his slightly devious friend, Prowl opened the vid-file with a growing sense of pleasant anticipation.