--Written By: Reality Obscured--

AN: My decision on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was that I could really see these two watching musicals together, and I can honestly imagine Jazz trying to perform some of those stunts in the movie...!

Warning: Fluffly slash


Movie nights with Jazz were unpredictable, just like the saboteur himself. These nights had started out as an attempt to better introduce the 2IC to various genres and aspects of human culture through the means of television. It ended, it seemed to both of them, as an all-out attempt to find something both of them could stand to watch together. After almost two and a half Earth months of searching, they found an easy medium. Musicals, of all things. Prowl found it interesting that one of Jazz's favorites was Chitty Chitty Bang Bang (and subsequently warned the Porsche upon hearing it that he was, in no way, form or fashion, to recreate the illogical, absurd stunts that said car performed). It amused Jazz to no end that Prowl just about anything with Opera music in it.

(Jazz's side-o-the-story)

This night, Jazz had long ago completely disregarded the concept of Prowl's personal space. He couldn't honestly say what short-circuited in his logic chips to give him the conclusion that it was a great idea to use Prowl's lap as a pillow…but he did, and he'd fully expected a request for him to move. When it never came, he'd decided to stay, and had since loosened up and made himself even more comfortable. They had both started out sitting on Prowl's berth, watching something called My Fair Lady, when halfway through the movie Prowl had laid back and stretched out. Jazz essentially followed suit.

Prowl's cube of high-grade sat nearby along with his own. The tactician rarely finished an entire cube even as small as they were. Half was always left by the end. Not one to guzzle unless energy depleted, Jazz himself preferred to work on his throughout the course of the night…but he didn't want to move right now to get it. That would mean he'd lose this easy peace between them, lose contact with Prowl only to maybe not get it back again.

(Prowl's side-o-the-story)

There really wasn't enough room in his berth for the two of them to fit comfortably, Prowl mused, but somehow they were managing. He was still partially sitting up, his door-wings pressing lightly against the wall that served as the berth's "head board". Jazz had practically taken over his lap, lying stretched out between his legs in a lazy fashion. It was…odd, but it didn't feel wrong enough to have the Porsche move. To be truthful, he found that he was hoping Jazz wouldn't have the inclination to do so any time soon.

At one point, he saw the visored black and white glance at the high-grade cubes beside the berth. Apparently he hadn't the desire to move, either, evident by him settling back down. Prowl smiled slightly, noting he was closer, and reached down to retrieve Jazz's cube for him. For about two and a half astroseconds, surprise flashed across the other mech's face as he accepted the energon. The smirk that followed was hidden when he took a drink. Prowl pretended not to notice, concentrating instead on the movie playing on his quarter's vid-screen. He did notice how Jazz shifted to be ever so minutely closer.