The days past relatively easy, if not slow for Prowl. He lived by a strict schedule, mostly consisting of going over reports ranging from energon production and distribution, all the way to battle briefings and current casualties. As acting leader, he was also responsible for the wave of information coming from the several other Autobot bases and since nobody could know that the Prime was currently otherwise engaged, he had to answer as such. It was Ratchet who came up with the brilliant idea of disabling the visual coms. After all, no one could debate the authenticity of a written reply when visual proof was impossible.
The Decepticons were quiet and though the lack of any action was welcomed, it also led Prowl to suspect that they were up to something considerably heinous. Megatron was never still for very long, at least without a cause and in response Prowl doubled patrol and increased scouting efforts. Nothing had turned up yet, despite their efforts.
When not caught up in his office Prowl also found his time taken by meetings. Ratchet would read off a varying long list of needed medical supplies with more threats than strictly necessity, Ironhide would rant about soldier placement, and unfortunately for everyone, Red Alert would go on a new tangent about security protocols and his newest Decepticon theory. The security director alone usually lasted for a good couple hours at the very least. It took a lot to deal with Red Alert and though it seemed like Prowl had an indefinite amount of patience, even he found it difficult. It was times like this he didn't envy Optimus.
Then there were the twins. When Prowl wasn't busy cleaning up after one of their pranks he was trapped under one of their training sessions. Sunstreaker had made it his personal goal in life to take Prowl under his wing. Sideswipe on the other hand just liked an excuse to beat Prowl into a living pulp. That given both of them were convinced that Prowl was improving but the dents and sore cables made the tactician believe otherwise.
Finally, after all of that was said and done and Prowl was "free", he would walk down to the brig, two cubes in hand. Today had been a particularly long day and Prowl greeted the brig guard with a simple nod of his head. Jazz was reclining on the metal slab of a berth, data pad held in one hand, and one leg resting on his arched knee. The dangling ped bobbed to the music that he was loudly playing from the speakers located on his hip.
"Whadup, Prowler." Jazz greeted without getting up. He did however cut the volume by half which Prowl was grateful for. Loud music that was heavy with bass was not good for someone with a growing processor ache. Jazz glanced at him. "Ya look stressed mech." He added, the ever perceptive spy. Prowl sighed, placing the cube where Jazz could reach it before taking a seat with his own. He took a sip.
"Red Alert." He mentioned and that single designation explained it all. Jazz gave a knowing smirk before rolling off the bed and grabbing the cube by the bars.
"That bad, huh?"
"Mmm. Don't get me wrong. Red Alert is very good at his job. Brilliant even but sometimes his paranoid tendencies are a lot to take in." Prowl vented. Sometimes it was far too easy to talk to Jazz, and Prowl often had to watch what he said, less he give too much information.
" 'specially if he gets excited." Jazz grinned and Prowl gave him a slow nod. Red Alert had a tendency to get himself worked up.
"Yes." He practically hissed and it was probably the most emotion Prowl had shown all day. It had Jazz smirking into his cube before he tipped it back and finished it all in one go. It became apparent to Prowl at that moment that Jazz never stopped to enjoy his energon. He always finished it as fast as he could, almost as if he hesitated he wouldn't get the chance to actually drink it. It was an odd trait, one that tempted Prowl to inquire about it but he refrained. Perhaps when he had more of the mech's trust.
Jazz hummed something, most likely the next verse of the song that Prowl had been ignoring and his foot began tapping to the beat of the song. Jazz did a slick half step, half turn; crushing the cube out of existence as he did so. He ended the entire move with a bob of his head and throwing his arms out to the side. As he did this the song ended, which left Jazz grinning away, quite pleased with himself.
Prowl watched him for a moment before his optics shifted to the data pad on the bed, the one Jazz had been focused on previously. He had taken to lending Jazz some from his own collection, with the intention of keeping the spy entertained. Prowl was actually surprised at how well Jazz had adapted to captivity. He had expected the mech to go stir crazy stuck in one cell but so far, despite his previous actions, Jazz had been behaving himself.
The thing that Prowl didn't know was that Jazz didn't really stay in the cell for long. Usually in the off hours, when there was the slightest gap between day shift and night, he would wander. Jazz had the entire base, all except for Red Alert's office, mapped out now and could probably navigate it without his optics.
His favorite activity was to go through the high ranking mech's offices and move items around. They were of course subtle changes, ones that wouldn't be noticed for a good while. He was still waiting for Prowl to notice that some of his S data pads were encroaching on C's territory.
"What did you think of that one?" Prowl interrupted Jazz's thoughts, gesturing to the data pad with his head. Jazz looked back at it, giving the tactician a half shouldered shrug.
"ah, liked the beginin' but the ending." He gave another shrug. "It was sad. Nah. Not my kinda ending." He told Prowl, leaning over and picking up the data pad. He shifted it in his hands and Prowl frowned.
"I thought you would appreciate the realistic ending." Prowl explained.
"Ahm a total sap, Prowler. I like the happy endings." Jazz informed and he gave Prowl the most spark breaking look that would have been better suited on Bumblebee, not some a murderous Decepticon spy. Prowl looked at him and his door wings actually visibly dropped an inch because of the look Jazz was giving him. Prowl shifted uncomfortably.
"Well… ah. That is unexpected." He muttered not entirely sure where to proceed. "I will ensure a happy ending next time." Prowl promised and the smile that lit up Jazz face made Prowl feel a little better. He was about to smile himself at the sudden change but stopped when his com buzzed to life in his audio. He pressed his finger to the side of his helm and leaned away from Jazz.
"Sir," It was Bluestreak. Prowl would recognize that happy tone any day. "You might want to come to the med bay right away."
"Is anyone injured?" Prowl asked, sitting straighter in his chair. Bluestreak coughed out an embarrassed chuckle as he realized the unnessicary stress he had probably caused his friend.
"Ah, no. Sorry. Just Ratchet called a meeting. Says it's pretty important. Plus I really wouldn't want to anger Ratchet right now so I'd probably hurry." He explained in a hushed tone. Prowl assumed it was so the medic himself wouldn't hear him. Knowing Ratchet, if he was in the room, he had probably heard Bluestreak. He may be older than most mechs but his hearing was certainly sharp, especially when it was about him.
"I will be there shortly." He told Bluestreak, cutting the line quickly. Jazz was sporting a big grin, almost as if he had heard the entire conversation. He took a couple steps back, sitting down on the berth, before sprawling his legs out in a way that made the metal slab look comfortable. Prowl wasn't sure how he managed to do that. He knew for a fact those weren't placed there for comfort.
"See ya around mech." Jazz cheered, giving a two fingered salute. "And give ol' Hatchet my best." He added, confirming Prowl's suspicions of him hearing the conversation. Prowl nodded, not quite sure what to think about the mech's uncanny ability to eaves drop on a secure line. Before he could ask, Prowl stopped himself and decided that it was a topic best left for another day.
….
The med bay was filled with some of the Autobot's most important officers. Prowl paused as he entered, just after the door. The moment he was far enough away from the door, it hissed shut, locking with an audible clank, due to Ratchet's commands. Prowl examined the door before turning to the fellow officers.
Ironhide was leaning on the wall just next the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and face set in its usual firm scowl. Bluestreak was sitting in the corner on an emergency recharge slab, rubbing his head and nursing what suspiciously looked like a medical tool dent. Bumblebee sat on a separate berth, practically leaning on Blaster, while Ratchet stood in the middle of it all. The medic was already looking quite irritated and fowl tempered.
"Is this everyone you called?" Prowl asked, still unsure about what this meeting was about. Ironhide snorted something and Ratchet grumbled.
"Except for Red Alert who has refused to leave the confines of his office for fear of some threat lurking in the halls." The medic then grunted, entirely not amused despite the snort leaving Blaster. Prowl gave a curt nod, not all that surprised but in the back of his helm he was already blaming Jazz.
"Then shall we begin?"
Ratchet huffed and took a few steps to be further centered in the room and in direct view of every bot. He looked to Blaster who gave the mech a thumbs up.
"Scramblers are up, med bot. No one and I mean, no one is gonna hear this conversation. The stage is yours." He hummed while snapping one finger. Ratchet nodded his head.
"As you are all aware, or at least I hope you are all aware," Ratchet began, gesturing with his hands. "Optimus isn't here right now." He grunted. "He's off with a small group scouring Keon, Megatron's territory, on some wild hunch and an attempt to finally gain an advantage in this Primus forsaken war. He managed to get a secure message to me. Optimus will be returning sometime before tomorrow morning. From what he told me there are no casualties and he is pretty close to the base."
There was a collective sigh of relief around the room and clapping from Bumblebee, Blaster and Bluestreak. Prowl nodded, his optics brightening with the good news. Ironhide himself gave a rare smirk.
"Bout damn time." The war mech spat. "I dunno what Prime wanted to accomplish but he shouldn't have risked himself like that." He continued to grumble and Ratchet glared at the red mech, placing a hand on his hip.
"Stop griping because he didn't take you with him. As Optimus's bodyguard it would be a blatant red flag that he was gone if you didn't make an appearance here." Ratchet snapped at Ironhide, perhaps being the only one able to reprimand the red mech besides from Optimus.
"Told!" Blaster quipped from beside Bumblebee but was rewarded with a harsh glare from both Ratchet and Ironhide simultaneously. He quieted quickly but he didn't lose the slag eating grin. Bumblebee shook his head at his friend's antics.
"I'd be nice to have Mirage back. Running Special ops is fine and all but, eh, not my cup of energon."
"Oh! And I'd be so happy for you to take your job back Prowl!" Bluestreak exclaimed from his corner and though Prowl didn't voice it verbally, he agreed. Being second in command and head of the tactical division was hard enough, couple that with Optimus's duties and it was enough to drive a lesser mech mad. He would never complain though. It was an honor that Optimus entrusted him.
"And we'll finally know what to do with that con." Ironhide added and Blaster nodded.
"How is Jazz?" Blaster asked turning his head to regard the tactician. Ratchet turned to face Prowl as well.
"Yes. I haven't had any mech in my med bay because of him." He asked and Prowl straightened.
"Jazz is well. He is less destructive and his aggression toward us has decreased significantly."
"Why is that?" Bluestreak asked. "I mean what's changed?"
"Us." Bumblebee added and his tone made it seem like he knew more than he was letting on. He gave a cheery smile. "I mean think about it, compared to working with Meg's and his lot. We're a vacation. I'm surprised he hasn't outright defected."
"That would not be unwelcomed." Prowl let on and Ironhide snorted.
"You want that pit spawn as one of us? Have you lost your processor?" He accused but Prowl was expecting Ironhide to have such a remark.
"I think we're forgetting something crucial." Bluestreak interrupted. "Come on. We all know he can escape our cells. He's made that quite clear. So why is he still here and why has nothing been sabotaged?"
"That is a good point." Blaster added, sitting back and interlocking his fingers. "The only time he took a little 'tour' it was to chat with us. Mech's not bad for a psychotic killin' machine." He added and with the looks he received he lifted his arms in the air. "What, just sayin'. He's a cool mech."
"Regardless," Prowl redirected before Ironhide could roll his optics harder. "It would ultimately be Optimus's decision and base on the tactical advantage alone; I believe he will agree with me."
"Yes, there is a tactical advantage of having him on our side but you have to calculate the risks, Prowl. Which knowing you, you obsessive twit, have. So what exactly is the risk of him betraying us or is he too unpredictable to fully calculate that?" Ratchet argued. Prowl met the medic's optics and they narrowed ever so slightly. This seemed to be enough for Ratchet though because he scoffed. "I thought so."
"I don't trust the little scrap heap." Ironhide added in a growl. "and I never will."
"Hey, I'm all for him joining us. Imagine all the nifty tricks he could teach us." Bumblebee added, lifting a single finger to punctate his point. He smirked at the looks he received. "Hey, he's a legend to us Special ops. "
"Ya'll know that ain't helpin' your case Bee?" Blaster snorted. "We here all know you Ops mechs are one screw loose."
Bumblebee shrugged. "You don't hear me denying that." He smirked. "but that's what makes us so good."
…...
Optimus Prime was greeted like his return was a monumental occasion, which in a way it was. Returning from a mission so deep in Decepticon territory, practically unscathed was bragging rights. Not like Optimus was one for bragging.
The three of them walked through the doors of the base, slightly dented but overall in generally good condition. At the sight of everyone surrounding Optimus, Mirage smirked, stepping to the side to stand beside Bumblebee who gave him a cheery greeting and a pat on the back. Cliffjumper was different; he embraced the attention, clasping the hands of random mechs and showing off.
While they were distracted, Ratchet was on the group before they could disappear, ushering them all into his med bay, before a single complaint could be uttered or Cliffjumper could sneak away. Ironhide went with them, determined to take back his job as Prime's closest friend and bodyguard.
Prowl waited calmly with the instructions to stage a debriefing. He had it all ready and scheduled before Optimus could even finish asking him. He then sent a short message to Blaster, with instructions to bring Jazz his ration. He figured that Blaster was the mech to keep Jazz occupied while he was otherwise engaged. After all, a bored Jazz was a potentially mischievous mech. Not to mention dangerous. If Prowl was to make his case strong of keeping Jazz around; Jazz couldn't look like a murderous Decepticon.
The meeting held most of the Autobot higher ranking officers. Optimus greeted them all warmly, thanking them for the hard work they performed during his absence before he got to the important stuff.
In short, the Decepticon's were up to something. The mission hadn't been as fruitful as Optimus had hoped but the little information they were able to squeeze out was certainly beneficial. Mirage was the first to inform everyone that there was a word being thrown about. "Combiners." What that meant was anyone's guess but it had something to do with Shockwave or rather Shockwave had something to do with it. Either way, whether it was a weapon of mass destruction or not, the word sent an odd feeling going down all of their spinal struts.
Finally Jazz came up in the briefing and it was up to Prowl to fill Optimus in on their slightly wanted but unwanted visitor. The Prime listened, his optics not giving any emotions. After all the information was given, Prowl not hiding anything, even Jazz's escape, Optimus nodded. He would speak with Jazz. If there was anyone who could bring out the best in the worst mechs, it was Optimus. He had a way with words and this look that could weaken even the gruffest mechs.
The walk to the brig was probably the longest walk Prowl had had in a while. On the outside he was the ever calm and stoic second in command but internally his mind was raging with the different outcomes. Jazz was unpredictable, even for Prowl and despite his best efforts; he could not calculate what the spy would do.
Optimus went into Jazz's cell alone, despite Ironhide's best arguments. Prowl stood stock still, optics cold and narrowed.
"Heya Prowler." Jazz began, his optics were down on a data pad but at the sound of a different mech he looked up, friendly smile dropping instantaneously. "Prime." Jazz corrected with a hiss and that was all the group heard before the door closed, cutting off all conversation. Prowl watched the door but the cold indifferent metal gave him no clue. Bluestreak gave Prowl a sidelong glance, optic ridge lifted in confusion.
"Prowler?" He asked and Prowl gave a one shouldered shrug. Even he didn't know what the spy's fascination with still calling him that. Bluestreak also gave a shrugged, not entirely sure if he wanted to pry further.
Optimus was in Jazz's cell for a while. In response Ironhide took to pacing, his weapon system giving off a steady hum as they were prepped for action. No one in the group doubted that the war mech was contemplating shooting through the door despite the completely functional key pad that would grant him access without the destruction and violence. Some of them even stepped back to give him more room.
After some time, and more pacing from Ironhide, the metal door slid open and Optimus walked out. From the small gap, Prowl could see Jazz, visor a dark ominous red and his armor puffed out. He met Prowl's optics before the door cut his view. He then turned his head to glance at Optimus, expecting some sort of explanation of what had happened but instead nothing was mentioned. Just like that everyone was dismissed, including Prowl. He remained still until everyone was gone and looked to the door. He half debated if he wanted to go in but the prospect of how behind that would get him in his duties prevented this.
With a reluctant sigh that nobody was around to witness, Prowl left to his office.
….
Despite Optimus being back, Prowl's workload did not decrease. It wouldn't, at least for a couple of days when everything had returned to normal. Bluestreak had done a brilliant job, filling in for Prowl but unfortunately for the talkative mech, Prowl was meticulous in everything he did. He liked things done in a certain way.
Prowl found himself going over some of the things Bluestreak had done not because he did a poor job but because it wasn't as precise as Prowl like. That and the fact that the second in command was looking for something to occupy his mind and nothing worked better than going over the duty roster. At least until he was absolutely certain that everyone was preforming at optimum efficiency.
"Prowl. Do you have a moment?" Optimus asked and Prowl nearly jumped in his seat. He hadn't heard his door open and he hadn't heard the large mech walk in. Prowl berated himself, this lack of attentiveness was unlike him, especially being second in command.
Slowly Prowl sat straight and took a moment to stack a few data pads off to the side, neatening his desk significantly. It was more an act to give his processor a moment to prepare for what was to come, instead of cleaning. He inhaled to steady himself.
"Of course, sir." He said, gesturing to the open chair. After all, while half of his processor was on his duty, the other half was left to fester on what the most logical outcome for Jazz was. If he had acted any way that Prowl assumed he did, it was not looking good for the spy.
Optimus took the offer and sat down. He looked rather ridiculous though, such a massive authority figure sitting in a chair that was usually reserved for a trouble maker. His frame was a too large for such a small seat, not to mention Prowl's small office.
"How can I assist you?" Prowl asked. He interlocked his fingers, full attention dead set on his leader before adding. "This is regarding Jazz, isn't it?" He knew for a fact that Optimus would have taken a while to get to the actual fact. Optimus was a mech for formalities and small talk, Prowl preferred to get straight to the point.
Optimus nodded. "Yes. I have been informed of his many… 'adventures'." He added rather delicately. "I imagine he has made your job in my absence rather difficult?" He asked and Prowl shook his head.
"Not as difficult as I had anticipated. He has been rather cooperative."
"For you it seems." Prime informed him and this did give Prowl pause. Still Prowl gave a nod but it was slow, almost unsure.
"It has come to my attention that he favors my company…"
"Do you know why?" Optimus asked but it wasn't an interrogation and it certainly wasn't as hostile as some bots would have asked. Optimus was just genuinely curious. The worst part was that Prowl didn't have a certain answer and not having one gave Prowl the foreign sensation of edginess.
"I am not sure, sir." He told him honestly. "but I believe he considers us friends." Prowl then added, in the dark of how his leader would react to that piece of information.
"And you?" Still it was just curiosity and Prowl wasn't sure if that made it better or worse. There wasn't even the slightest hint of judgment in Optimus's optics.
"Yes…" He admitted but he really wanted to say no. The whole concept of having a Decepticon for a friend, no, considering having a Decepticon as a friend was treason. Plain and simple and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Optimus looked sad but it wasn't necessarily directed at Prowl, at the whole situation really. He vented before looking Prowl directly in the optics.
"Then this pains me to inform you of this." Prime began and Prowl felt his door wings stiffen and his back go rigid. He was certain that his career as second in command was coming to an end. He didn't blame Optimus though. Prowl would have done the same thing.
"Due to the aggressive personality of Jazz and the nature of his specialty, it has been decided, for the safety of everyone, to move him to a more secure location with Ultra Magnus." Optimus finished and Prowl found his mouth setting into a firm line. This wasn't where he expected the conversation to go but it still wasn't any better. Prowl felt his optics switch back and forth as he ran statistics, attempting to find a way to bend this around to be more favorable.
"If I might interject, sir. Jazz could be an asset to us. His knowledge of the Decepticons could prove to be invaluable, not to mention his skill at sabotage and espionage. I believe, given time, I might be able to succeed in convincing him to assist us." He explained, but even Prowl knew the success rate of this plan was low at best. It was still worth a shot though.
"I'm sorry Prowl but the risk isn't acceptable. If it were a more secure location and he hadn't already proven to us that he was capable of escaping I would agree but unfortunately the decision has been made. Ultra Magnus is already preparing for his arrival." He finished. Prowl looked down for a brief moment before meeting Optimus's optics. He nodded.
"I understand sir." He stated and Prowl really did. Had Prowl not been compromised by the odd friendship that they had acquired, Prowl would have made the same call.
"But," Optimus interjected, gaining Prowl's full attention by placing a strong hand on his shoulder, optics growing warm again. "I have arranged for you to be the one to escort him on the transport, to the new location. Ratchet has explained that Jazz is a lot more manageable with you around." His leader finished and Prowl could not help but look shocked. He knew just how many protocols Optimus was breaking by allowing this and he knew that Optimus knew as well. Prowl was baffled. Was Optimus doing this as a personal favor?
"Are you sure that is wise decision, sir? If I was in your position, the logical choice would be to limit any and all contact." Prowl told him flatly. Despite everything, Prowl was completely loyal to the cause. "Protocol alone dictates that I be removed from my post effective immediately." He informed Optimus even though the thought of being demoted hurt him.
"Yes," Optimus began but stopped to offer a chuckle. "But I know you Prowl. I didn't elect you as my second in command for nothing. I can trust that you would put the Autobot cause before yourself." Optimus looked away for second, his thoughts seeming to wander. "Let me ask you this, would he more cooperative for you, or for someone else?" He asked but he didn't give Prowl the time to answer. Instead he stood, nodding to his second in command before turning and leaving the room.
Prowl watched his Optimus leave with the question still circulating in his head. He let his optics drop to the desk, staring at the stack of data pads that required his attention. His hand even hovered over one with the intentions of picking it up but despite his best efforts, his entire processor was elsewhere. There was no way he would be able to get his work done now. He vented heavily, splaying his hands flat on the desk and lowering his helm.
Logically he should leave Jazz in the dark, ignorant of his fate but there was something darkly underhanded about it that had Prowl standing immediately from his seat. He wasn't foolish enough or naïve enough to believe that Jazz would still be there in the morning if he learned of his transfer.
With that in mind Prowl left his office and made the long trek to the brig. The halls were quiet and unused in the late hour and the few mechs he saw, he didn't recognize. Not by designation at least.
Jazz wasn't recharging when Prowl entered the cell. The lights were dark and the only indication of the spy being in the room was the dull red visor observing him from across the room. Prowl met his optics before he did something that he thought he would never do. He hinted to Jazz what they were planning for him tomorrow. Jazz gave a dark laugh, his voice vibrating wickedly through the room.
"Finally, I'll get some good ol' Autobot hospitality." He spat and Prowl gave a low rolling sigh.
"We all share the same code of honor. There will be no torture." Prowl told him, expecting that was what he had meant by hospitality. Jazz looked him over and tutted.
"Don't be so blind, Prowler." He snorted and the bitter tone made Prowl want to look away. He didn't though. "So ya alright with this?" Jazz growled and Prowl stiffened.
"I fought to keep you here…" He stated. It was spoken so quietly that Jazz almost didn't hear it. The cell filled with an uncomfortable silence that hung between them like a thick fog. Prowl wasn't sure what to say, or even why he was telling the spy this but he had hoped it would end in a positive note. Not bitter. Not like this.
Jazz's visor slowly dimmed until Prowl could no longer see it and the spy practically dissolved into the darkness. The tactician assumed that was a dismissal and he took a step back, intending to leave. Before he could though, Jazz's visor bleed back to life, only inches away from the charged bars. With Jazz closer, Prowl could see some of his details thanks to the red light of his visor illuminated the highlights of his face. Jazz gave a low, hissing sigh..
"Why'd ya tell meh this?" Jazz asked, lower than a whisper. Prowl shook his head.
"I suppose I wanted to say goodbye." He stated, looking away. Jazz gave a subtle laugh and surprisingly it wasn't cruel. He too shook his head, more so in disbelief.
"You'll see me on the transport tomorrow, mech." He reminded him and Prowl gave a silent chuckle.
"I suppose I will. Until next time, Jazz." Prowl finished, giving a polite nod of his head before turning and leaving as quietly as he had come. Jazz waited until the door closed before he laughed. He knew what Prowl's intentions were and the whole concept of it was odd. Jazz gave a disbelieving smile. It would take him little time and effort to vanish. Disappearing was, after all, his specialty.
(Author's note- woot longer chapter! Review please.)
