I've had people story alerting this thing and some reviewing that they wanted more since I uploaded this, so, here's chapter 2! And it's longer than the first one to boot!

Let's just say poor Jazz has it out for him for the moment

disclaimer: I don't own transformers, but like everyone else, I wished I did!

Jazz came back online for porbably the hundreth time that morning, datapads strewn across the desk where his head had just laid. He hadn't gotten any recharge last night, and now he was paying for it.

Stupid Smokey, he thought as he tried reading the same datapad he'd been trying to finish since that morning. He would be the one to cause sudden insomnia, wouldn't he? He chuckled at that but it quickly died down once his systems tried shutting down again. He growled as the same warning that had been going through his head that whole morning returned across his field of vision. Energy Levels at 21%... it said more but he quickly deleted the warning, wishing for the millionth time that there was a way to turn it off, it was annoying, and it wasn't making his life any easier. He sighed, setting down the still unread datapad back in its previous spot. He was getting nowhere fast, he couldn't even concentrate enough to read one datapad, and his shift had started nearly five hours ago.

He finally sighed and stood up, seeing no reason in staying there for the moment seeing as to how he wasn't getting any work done anyway. He walked out of his office, relocking it and walking down the hall towards the rec room, hoping to grab some energon then go and hopefully start reading over those reports pouring off his desk. He walked the halls, using his usual smile to cover up his lack of energy and depressing mood. As usual, there were a few mechs roaming the halls, but definitely not as many as there normally was during shift changes, or when there was a party; nevertheless, there was still mechs going around though, adding stess to his job of keeping his "happy face" as he liked to put it. He finally made it to the rec room, stopping right outside the foothold to gather himself, before he finally stepped inside the room that had started all his trouble. It wasn't that he didn't like the rec room or anything, it was just that it was so hard to walk in a room that you know was partially to blame for your lack of recharge.

He walked in the door, never slowing on his decent to the energon despencer, only stopping for his energon. Once he turned around though, he came face to face with a very pissed off Ratchet.

"Are you an idiot? Your energy levels are at 16% and you're just now getting fraggin energon?" Ratchet nearly yelled, almost making the saboteur drop his cube. There was silence in the room as everyone turned to listen in on the raging medic and his current victim. "What the frag has gotten into that head of your's to think that you could just go without energon like this, it's not healthy, and you could wind up throwing yourself into stasis lock or even death if no one found you!"

Jazz could only stare at the rampaging CMO, waiting for possibly a moment when he could speak seeing as to how he'd like to keep his aft of the ceiling.

Ratchet finally dwindled down after a few moments, ending his lecture with his head shaking in his, "What am I going to do with you Jazz?"

Jazz watched him for a few more seconds, making sure the medic wouldn't start all over again. He finally started his explaination with a feeble, "Could' recharge," before the medic exploded again.

"You couldn't recharge, that's all you have to say? That doesn't mean you don't at least take in energon then come to the fragging medbay you idiot! You're coming with me right now," he finally ended, while grabbing the hand jazz was holding his cube in and walking towards the medbay, hauling the porsche after him.

Prowl sat in his office, reading the list of medical supplies that Ratchet needed over, before signing the bottom, wishing for his shift to finally end. He knew some bots would freak out over hearing him say something like that, but that was how he felt at the moment: tired, frustrated, and annoyed. How could one ship get so much damage in a week! It made no sense to him, and thinking about it nearly caused him to lock up. It wasn't like there was that many mechs here that the need for repair should be so high every week. He could unstand if it was about the size of the base back in Iacon, but there was never this much repair and parts needed there, and there was probably a good couple hundred mechs and femmes there.

He sighed to himself as he finished up Wheeljack's report, finding that his lab had blown up not once, but twice this week. It was like the whole crew was out to make him miserable or something. I need to stop thinking like that, I don't want to turn up looking like Red Alert's long-lost-twin or something, he chidded himself grabbing another datapad and reading it, noting that it was the one that he had asked for from Jazz the evening before, remembering that strange look in his visor while Prowl was saying something to Smokescreen. True, the look unnerved him for the moment, but at the same time it interested him, making him think of why Jazz of all mechs would give him a look such as that, and he could have swore that he'd seen something like lust or desire in the mechs optics.

Prowl finally returned to looking at the datapad, not able to go past the first paragraph before the image of Jazz's face the night before popped up in his CPU. He tried reading the datapad again, still unable to get any farther than last time. He set the pad down, putting his head in his hands as he rubbed his optics. There had to be a reason why it was only that image that kept coming up and not some other one. He reasoned to himself that it was just that he hadn't gotten any energon that day and stood up from his chair and walking to the door, the comment he had overheard from his brother the night before rattling inside his processors alongside the image of Jazz...

"He's just love struck with Prowl"...
He didn't believe it because he knew it could never be true; Jazz was a lively mech, outgoing, charming, and attractive to boot, of course Prowl would never tell anyone that, seeing as to how he was Jazz's complete oposite: dull, boring, and "allergic to being social" as he had heard Cliffjumper telling the other minibots in the rec room some months ago. He knew he shouldn't think of himself so critically, but he honestly couldn't help himself, it was just depressing knowing that you were working practically endless shifts to keep such ungrateful mechs alive. It sickened him, and that only caused him to avoid social interactions even more.

He strode out of his office, intent on grabbing a cube of energon from the rec room and then returning to his work. He walked down the corridors, ignoring the numerous looks others were giving him as he passed, only to bump into Ratchet, who just so happened to be dragging Jazz along with him, a cube of energon dropped to the floor and shattered as Jazz bumped into Ratchet as well.

"Sorry Prowl," Ratchet said a look of frustration clearly written on his face. He quickly walked around the stunned Datsun with the Porsche still in hand, who turned around to give him an apolegetic look.

Prowl stood staring off in their direction before finally turning around and walking in the direction of the rec room, confusion in his processors.

"Ratchet, seriously, I'm fine," he said as the medic shoved him on one of the cots adorning the medbay. "I just need a little energon is all."

"A little energon?" Ratchet nearly growled. "A little energon Jazz? Your systems are below 20% and you say you only need a little energon?"

Jazz cringed away from the fuming medic, knowing he was bound to get a good long lecture for this.

"Answer me one question Jazz, okay?"

"S-sure," he stuttered, worried at the medics sudden moodswing.

"You said you couldn't recharge, what happened that's causing it? And don't give me any of that slag about how you don't know."

Jazz leaned against the wall, a depressedlook on his face. He wrung his hand as he leaned his head back before starting. "Smokey said something yesterday that I just can't get out of my head, and it makes me worry about what could happen with my relationship with Prowler," he confessed.

"Well, what did he say?"

Jazz vented a sigh before continuing, his helm now hanging. "Well, he said that I was "love struck" on Prowl just because I spaced out while he was there. I don' get it Ratchet-, hey what's with that smile? I'm upset over here and all you're doin' is smilin'?"

"Sorry Jazz, I just can't help it," he explained covering a hand over his optic. "It's just that well, you see, everyone's believed that you two would get together, everyone just figured it'd be sooner." There was silence as all Jazz could do was stare at the medic. "Jazz, you alright?"

There was an almost inaudible growl before a yell that echoed throughout the whole base.

"WHAT?"

Author's notes: so we finally see Prowl, he's probably just about as confused as Jazz is at the moment.

I couldn't help but laugh to myself as I did that scene between Ratchet and Jazz in the rec room, it was just too funny writing it with it playing my head.

Review please ^_^