Author: gatekat
Chars: Jazz, Prowl, background pairs
Rating: PG-13
Codes: AU, Friendship, Slash
Summary: Whether a favor or punishment for the noble, Mirage's new mission brings a world of change for Jazz and Prowl.
Notes: The AU comes from Prowl being alive. Not going into how or why here. Not relevant.
This Winter Won't Last Forever 4
::Jazz. It has been too long,:: Mirage's smooth vocals ghosted across the heavily encrypted comm line. ::How have you faired?::
::Better than anybody expected and not nearly as good as I'd like,:: he chuckled silently, half an optic on Prowl as he studied whatever was on the monitor in front of him. ::What brings you near Earth?::
::I have been given a long-term mission and the authority to select my team so long as they agree,:: the noble sounded as excited as he deserved to be. ::It is far away from the new Prime and in a *civilized* location. Not much Ops work. It's all picking up what New Crystal City saved of our culture and technology and bringing them into the empire again. Though I was warned that we were the ones expected to learn how to be civilized again.::
Jazz snickered at the grimace in his friend's voice. ::So who're ya picking up?::
::You, Prowl, Red Alert, Inferno, Bluestreak, Tracks and Grapple,:: Mirage replied. ::Inferno has agreed for both of them, as has Tracks. I have not yet heard reply from Bluestreak or Grapple.::
::That's an ... interesting team. Just what is this mission, really?::
::For most, it's paid retirement, a place to heal, for those who deserve it,:: Mirage answered honestly. ::My duties are as I said, though I welcome assistance with them.::
::What did Tracks do to earn such a reprieve?:: Jazz couldn't help but tease. He knew, but he wanted to see if Mirage would *admit* it.
There was a noticeable pause before the reply came, and the spy's voice was softer than usual. ::He makes me feel special.::
Jazz stiffened in shock, catching Prowl's attention. ::Mirage ... how serious?::
Another pause and Jazz held up a hand to waylay Prowl's question.
::We aren't talking about bonding or sparklings. I doubt we ever will,:: the noble began with just a faint tremor in his voice. ::But serious for now.::
Jazz shuttered his optics behind his visor. ::I wish you both the best, then. If he hurts you, the universe won't be big enough to hide in,:: he actually growled, still highly protective of his top agents, the closest thing he had to family and trusted friends. The closest he'd dared to letting himself *care* about anyone in a long time. They were his sparklings, all grown up. At least that was how he explained it to those who got too close to one.
::Thank you, Jazz,:: real warmth infused Mirage's voice for a moment. ::Will you and Prowl be joining us on the mission?::
::Let me ask,:: Jazz turned to face Prowl, who was waiting patiently. "Mirage has positions for both of us on a long-term assignment to New Crystal City. Wanna come?"
Prowl cycled his optics and accessed all the information available on the location. A sharply drawn vent and his optics brightened considerably. "Yes."
::I heard,:: Mirage chuckled on the comm. ::Be at Autobot City by ten hundred tomorrow.::
::Are you going to talk to Hound?:: Jazz interrupted the attempt to end the conversation.
A soft, resigned sound came before any words. ::He still hasn't accepted that it's over?::
::I think he has, but he still *cares* about you, 'Raj. It'd go a long way for him to see you functioning well.::
::Very well, Jazz. I will speak with him.::
Prowl watched with fascination all the changes such a small time, only a few metacycles at most, had wrought in these surviving members of the Ark crew.
Red Alert was the least surprising. For the safety of everyone else he was in medical stasis until they reached New Crystal City in twenty orns. Inferno was taking much of the time so far to relax and recharge, something he no doubt had experienced little of in the past year.
It was only the way Bluestreak stilled in silence, staring at him with wide optics, that he thought to consider how much he may have changed. It felt completely natural to have an arm around Jazz as the former saboteur rested against his side in light recharge.
"So soon?" Bluestreak finally found his voice, though it was very quiet and in the Praxian dialect, not Autobot. Matched with his doorwings it was as much disapproval as the younger Praxian could muster against his elder.
"No," Prowl replied, keeping to their home dialect.
Bluestreak locked his optics on the way Prowl's fingers slid along Jazz's side, up and down, soothing. A caress usually reserved for lovers and close kin in Praxus for its proximity to their doorwings and the intimacy implicit in being so close to the sensitive panels.
A low hiss escaped the mechling, his doorwings lifting in a mixture of distress and anger.
"He is not Praxian," Prowl reminded him quietly, never stopping his stroking. "The same rules do not apply. He does not touch me this way."
It seemed to mollify Bluestreak enough to turn his attention to talking at Grapple.
::What was that about?:: Jazz asked on a private comm line, sill feigning recharge.
::He knows I was with Optimus,:: Prowl explained. ::It is ... beyond unacceptable to take another lover so soon after loosing one you've been with a long time.::
::Good thing he never saw us recharge together then,:: Jazz teased softly, then went more serious. ::If it's so unacceptable, why try to start something? More than once.::
Prowl was silent for a long moment, even his fingers stilled. ::Still trying,:: he murmured. ::I was never a *citizen*, Jazz, though Bluestreak is unaware of my legal status. I was never part of his culture.:: He lowered his head so his lips touched a sensor-horn. He smiled at the small shiver it caused in the mech curled against him. ::Optimus and I began as mutual comfort. No more. No different than what I gathered you were with him and many of your agents, even many of the general army.:: He began to stroke Jazz's side once more. ::It was thousands of vorns before it became anything more.::
He sighed softly, a warm vent of air washing over Jazz's sensory horns. ::What we have is enough, Jazz. If you truly do not wish my attentions I will stop. I have come to understand that I misspoke the night I kissed you. I was seeking comfort. I still seek to escape some of the pain in pleasure. I will never not miss him. I do not have the vorns ahead of me for it to fade. However I do know that sharing pleasure with one you trust can make the ache less.::
::You're making it difficult to keep saying no,:: Jazz grumbled somewhat playfully.
::Good,:: Prowl purred over the comm.
Tracks cornered Jazz in the back of the shuttle, in one of the few relatively private spots in the small vessel, when the former Ops mech slipped away to relax in solo combat practice.
"Look Jazz, I'm not going to hurt him," the snobby blue mech sounded as grounded and sincere as Jazz had ever heard him. It was enough to earn him a calculated look of confused innocence, to which he snorted. "No playing innocent, Jazz. Even if Mirage *hadn't* told me about your reaction to those who hurt your mechs, it got out after Snapshot broke Ripcord's spark. Everyone knows the price of hurting one of yours."
"He's not mine anymore, Tracks," Jazz retorted with some honest bitterness, never pausing in his forms.
Another short. "The Pit he's not, but whatever, mech. I'm just here to tell you you can chill a bit. I'm treating him the way he deserves and I'm not going to stop."
Jazz paused between katas and really looked at the mech. Eventually he nodded. "See that you don't."
"And Tracks," Jazz stopped him as he turned around. "See that you let him go gently."
"Always," the blue mech murmured.
Author's note. I've been informed of where this ends. Maybe not all the steps to get there, but enough of them to know what's going to happen.
1) There will be yet more death, this one screen.
2) This will contain sparklings.
3) Prime is coming back.
4) It will be JxP centric through the end.