Four Letter Word
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers; I'm just prostituting it for my amusement.
Summary: How Jazz and Prowl came together.
Warning: Drunken robots, confusion, m/m robots
Pairings: Jazz/ Prowl
Prowl didn't know how long he could take this. Jazz loved to touch. Innocently or not so innocently, whenever they met, the other mech found some excuse to touch his hands, his back, his neck. Since he had resolved to keep Jazz at arms length he hadn't been particularly successful. He had succeeded in shying from Jazz's attempts to kiss him, but Jazz seemed infinitely patient and even if Prowl started off their meeting at a distance by the end of it, Jazz was somehow right against him, side to side or holding his hand. Even the seemingly innocent touches hurt. They fed the longing that had twisted around Prowl's circuits and refused to release him. He never would have expected a simple four letter word to hurt so much but it did. Prowl found no pleasure in it.
It was clear Jazz noticed the change, or he wouldn't have changed his tactics to this sneaking approach. He whispered Prowl's nickname in soothing tones that made Prowl want to crawl out of his armour. There was so much affection in Jazz's voice but it felt false to Prowl's hearing. He probably used the same tone with any mech he wanted in his berth. And part of Prowl wanted to go along with it. Actually, half of Prowl wanted to lose himself in Jazz's affections and to the pit with the consequences.
Thankfully it was the dominate half of his mind that called for restraint, and for caution. Falling into Jazz's bunk would have far too many dire consequences. He wasn't a masochist and having only half of Jazz would be a little death. Worse still, he might even fall harder for Jazz and Prowl didn't know how he could survive that with any of his dignity intact.
So he withdrew that much more from Jazz. He still saw him a few times a week but the outings were shorter. Prowl buried himself in his plans for Helix and gave himself as little time as possible to dwell on his mistake. Finally, it was time for him to go.
"Helix?" Jazz asked angrily. "Are you out of your slagging mind?"
"I've work to do," Prowl said, his tone a little darker after Jazz's outburst. What business was it his to be angry?
"How long will you be gone?" Jazz asked, his anger contained for now.
"I don't know," Prowl replied. It was the truth, he didn't know.
"Are you even planning to come back?" Jazz snapped. "Or is this a convenient excuse to ditch me? Better yet, do you have some sort of martyr complex like the rest of the Autobots?"
"Martyr complex?" Prowl replied with genuine venom. "Just because we care enough to involve ourselves in protecting other mechs, doesn't mean we plan to martyr ourselves. Maybe it just means we care about mechs other than ourselves."
"For a tactician, you really are an idiot," Jazz said. He didn't give Prowl a chance to reply. He just left.
Prowl didn't know why he had reacted so badly but the anger didn't fade even as he returned home. The stupid thing he had ever done was fall for Jazz. And that mistake was moot now. He highly doubted that Jazz would seek him out now.
He fed his anger, and used it as fuel to strengthen his resolve to distance himself from Jazz and concentrate solely on the Autobot cause. There was only a lingering whisper that did not fade, that begged him to find Jazz and apologize. His pride, still bruised, made it easy enough to ignore.
His mood was still a little sharp. He wasn't prepared to suffer arguments from anyone but his commanding officers in regards to his new plan.
"Let Megatron have the Towers," Cliffjumper grumbled. "They're fawning all over him already. There isn't an Autobot amongst them."
"Living in the Towers doesn't make a mech evil," Prowl said, brokering no further argument. "We aren't going to toss any mech aside just because they were created in a different caste."
Cliffjumper grumbled. He didn't stop grumbling all the way to Helix, or even once they had arrived. But he never spoke loud enough to garner Prowl's attention. Though the grumbling increased exponentially when he discovered that Prowl had stationed him with Hound in the closest safe house to the Towers. Prowl didn't stay long enough to hear his complaints.
Smokescreen and Brawn were stationed in a house in the vice district. Like every other city on Cybertron, Helix too had fight clubs. Brawn would fit in fine. Where there were fights, there was gambling and there was no better place for Smokescreen to operate.
"I don't like leaving you on your own," Prowl said to Trailbreaker. "But you will be the last stop before we get mechs out of Helix. You're best equipped at defending yourself and any mechs in your care."
Trailbreaker nodded. Prowl had changed just a little since they had left Iacon. He was grimmer, and more withdrawn. But Trailbreaker knew what a private mech Prowl was and he didn't want to press him. Though if he was inclined to discuss the change with Smokescreen he would have put money on it involving Jazz.
"I don't expect too many mechs will come your way," Prowl continued. "But I do hope for more than I am expecting."
"Same," Trailbreaker said. He was telling a half truth. The task of delivering supplies to the safe houses was hazardous and he knew he would need the most. The less mechs he had to mind, the less he had to do, the less energon he would waste on day to day living. "You're on your own too?"
"Yes," Prowl said. He felt a twitch of annoyance that Trailbreaker was concerned but quickly ignored it. Trailbreaker was just a kind Bot. "It's fine. I'll be monitoring all the houses and routes. I don't foresee any trouble on my end."
"Well good luck," Trailbreaker said. "I'll contact you in two days with an update as planned."
"Good," Prowl said. "Keep safe."
Prowl went on to his own safe house alone. They didn't plan on sending any mechs his way. He had set up his house as a sort of war room. It connected to all the other houses through a maze of alleyways and underground tunnels. If everyone followed his directions and everything went as planned, they would be able to move about Helix without attracting any unwanted attention. They wouldn't get killed.
Jazz's words still stung, but Prowl could see now that he had, and still was, overreacting. He was so sensitized thanks to his feelings for Jazz, that he had lashed out as a way of protecting himself. He hadn't been fair to Jazz, in fact he had been sparkless. Prowl made a promise to himself to track down Jazz as soon as he was able, and apologize, and say a proper good bye. Because though he realized his error, Prowl would not torment himself by involving himself with Jazz any more than he already had. Ironhide could take up the task of trying to recruit the saboteur, and with Prowl in Helix, emotions would have time to fade.
What Prowl didn't know, what he couldn't know was that Jazz was no longer in Iacon. With only the location of Helix to start with, Jazz wasn't optimistic about how long it could take him to find Prowl. The odds of his Sweetspark making himself obvious were non-existent. So he moved about Helix hoping to hear whispers of Autobots.
And thank Primus he did. Even sooner than he would have dared to hope. Thankfully Minibots were a chatty bunch. Making up for their small statures with loud voices and the complete incapability of subtlety. Jazz had never been so happy for their creation. A particularly cranky yellow one was arguing about the refereeing of his fight and at the same time celebrating it as the last one he would need to be in. From now on when he fought, it would mean something. An Autobot called Brawn would be taking him to one of their secret bases.
Prowl had never mentioned that name, but then he had never mentioned the name of any of the Autobots. He hadn't trusted Jazz with the knowledge, or maybe it was just that Jazz had never asked. That would change. He intended to get to know everything about Prowl. Everything about who he cared about, what he cared about and where he came from. Jazz wanted to really know him in all of his experiences. What he knew about Prowl made the easily embarrassed mech Sweetspark to him, but Jazz realized he needed to know more before he had any hope of a future with him. If he showed he wanted to know him, maybe Prowl would stop running away. Jazz had gambled and lost but he endeavoured to make up for his mistake.
He was waiting in the shadows when Brawn came to find the cranky mech the next morning. Jazz hadn't recharged or rested at all. His systems were in overdrive with anticipation and a little anxiety. Everything he cared for right now hung on whether or not the minibots knew how to lose a tail. There was another bot with Cranky and Brawn. This one Jazz knew sensed they were being followed. Thank Primus, the other two didn't bother to listen.
They wove through alley ways, and more than once Jazz and nearly lost them, but the brightly coloured mechs stood out against the silver and grey of the alleys. Finally, and slag it felt like hours but couldn't have been even one, they reached their destination.
Jazz watched them enter a simple nondescript house. It was tucked away amongst rows of identical such houses surrounded by gambling houses and brothels. The image didn't fit what Jazz thought of Autobots and his spark twisted and rage boiled in his circuits. Were brothel keepers, slave traders masquerading as Autobots in order to catch mechs? Jazz seethed at the idea; something like this would break Prowl's spark.
Without a second thought, Jazz went for the door. He opened the flap of his arm, his lock pick equipment ready as always to meet his needs. It wasn't necessary. Jazz turned the handle and found the door unlocked; he shrugged quickly, opened the door and stepped in. The minibots were standing there, all three stared at him. The observant one, a yellow and blue mech, looked at the others and said:
"I told you we were being followed."
Within seconds, Jazz was staring at the dangerous end of two guns. He grimaced. This was not a well thought out plan.
"Is Sweet, err, is Prowl here?" Jazz asked quickly.
The minibot called Brawn blinked, he turned his head and leaned back to shout through a doorway to his left.
"Hey Smokescreen," he yelled. "Some mech's looking for Prowl."
Smokescreen entered the room and gave Jazz a once over. He shrugged his shoulders just slightly and said:
"I've never seen you before. Prowl isn't here but I can take you to him," Smokescreen said. "You're coming too, Brawn. Prowl's probably going to want to chat with you."
"Thank you!" Jazz beamed and his spark threatened to leap out of his chassis, and he grinned wildly. "I'm Jazz."
"Didn't know Prowl had friends outside the Autobots but he isn't exactly chatty," Smokescreen replied. "This way, Jazz."
Jazz didn't bother trying to suppress his grin. He followed Smokescreen back out the door and into another alley. Caution dictated Jazz keep his eyes on Smokescreen and the minibots that came with him. He hadn't lived this long by getting caught up in traps. Smokescreen led him through one alley way after another. Whether they slipped through camouflaged doors or an alley fed into the other. They twisted around the maze of Helix's backstreets. By the time the last alley way opened into an unremarkable street somewhere in the labourers district, Jazz's was practically vibrating with anxiety and excitement.
This door was locked. Smokescreen didn't even try to turn the handle. He knocked twice, and looked completely at ease. Moments later the door opened. Prowl stood in the doorway. His face was a mask of surprise and confusion. Jazz smiled even brighter and as Prowl tried to step out the doorway, Jazz pushed Smokescreen out of the way, Prowl back through the doorway, and entered the house himself. He shut the door in Smokescreen's face and locked it behind him.
Outside, Smokescreen stared at the door. Brawn bounded up the steps and looked to Smokescreen as he asked:
"So what? Do we shoot the door down?"
"No," Smokescreen said and he shook his head. "I'm sure Prowl will be fine."
Brawn didn't argue, and he turned back to the alley and their route back to their safe house. He was definitely not about to argue, Prowl was probably going to give him an audio full for getting followed and leaving the door unlocked, and Brawn would like just as well to delay that lecture.
End Chapter 4
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to my readers and to everyone else in the world wide web.
I'm taking a break from updating while I enjoy the holiday; look for me in the New Years.
