A/N: More ickle Nova? Why, yes.

This chapter also mentions an event that I think I've alluded to before, but I'm interested that nobody asked about it.

Extra 7- Home

"Woah, slow down there, little guy – woah."

The white Autobot put steadying hands on the sparkling's shoulders as it wobbled, thrown off by its headlong crash into the larger mech. Jazz took in the tiny, quivering wings and red optics and wondered what the Pit he'd just gotten himself into.

The sparkling was too young to talk. He clicked and chittered while Jazz tried to decipher what he was saying. The sparkling was riding in Jazz's altmode now, staring out of the window with wide optics, while Jazz was just hoping to get the kid back to his apartment before anyone saw him with a baby Decepticon in his seat.

"Where'd you come from, little guy?" he asked, not expecting an answer. "Did you run off and get lost?"

The sparkling cooed, batting at the speakers. Jazz's voice seemed to soothe him, so he kept talking.

"Lucky the Senate didn't spot you, little guy. I dunno who you belong to, but I bet your creators're worried sick. Hey, hey, little guy, what's up?"

The little Seeker had pressed his olfactory sensors to the window, pointing up insistently. They were passing near Prime's estate, Jazz noticed.

"Prime's place? You know it?"

The sparkling chirred in what Jazz thought was an affirmative way.

"Huh. I guess you know Prime, then. How 'bout I give you a lift over there?"

Chirp.

Jazz changed direction, heading for Prime's home, his passenger bouncing on the seat. By the time he pulled to a stop, the sparkling was chattering in excitement. Jazz opened the door to let him out before transforming and lifting the sparkling onto his shoulders. The young Seeker trilled, stretching his hands towards the sky.

"Like that? Figures you'd dig heights."

Jazz carried him inside, waving cheerfully at mechs he knew. On top of his shoulders, the winglet chirped and imitated him. Jazz chuckled at the sparkling's antics, not worried that he'd fall and hurt himself – Seekers had an innate natural balance.

He asked around and tracked Prime to the third floor. When he entered the hall, his gaze was drawn to a flicker of movement – the edge of something red and white before it moved swiftly out of sight.

"Jazz…? Nova!"

Jazz barely had a moment to look at Optimus before the Prime was on him, gently lifting the sparkling from his shoulders. The sparkling – Nova – crooned a soft note, ducking his head mournfully.

"Yes, you know you've caused worry," Optimus said, deep voice relieved. "Where did you find him, Jazz?"

"Near here. Little guy ran right into me. I didn't know there was a little Seeker in Iacon."

"He is my ward. I was going to present him soon, once he's old enough to speak. Thank you for bringing him home."

Nova pointed at Jazz and chirped, clicking at Optimus.

"Does anyone understand that?"

"You know sparklings… they make up their own languages. But I believe he likes you."

Nova's engines purred.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jazz laughed. He lowered his voice. "Prime, what're you doing with a Decepticon sparkling? You know the Senate won't let this stand."

"I've already taken care of the Senate. Nova is not a Decepticon. He is an Autobot and my ward."

"Crazy." Jazz shook his head in disbelief. "Well, Prime, I gotta split. Make sure the kid doesn't run off again."

Nova waved goodbye from behind Prime's knee.

Jazz was halfway to the exit when he was stopped by an all-too-familiar voice.

"Autoscum."

"Starscream," he guessed, turning; there was no mistaking that voice, nor that haughty sneer, though the Seeker's bright paint had faded and chipped somewhat after nearly a decavorn of slavery. "Still haunting around here?"

"It isn't as though I have a choice." The Decepticon moved forward, optics narrowed and mouthplates pulled tight. "I trust you brought the sparkling back in top condition?"

"Nova? He's fine. It's a nice neighborhood around here."

"Not for a Decepticon," Starscream growled. Jazz tilted his head. It was odd for Starscream to show concern for anyone besides himself, and he was concerned – Jazz had a talent for reading mechs, and as well as Starscream kept his emotions firmly bottled up, the Autobot could tell that he had been worried.

"What's it to you?" he asked. Starscream scowled.

"Is it so strange for a Decepticon to be concerned about a Decepticon sparkling?" he hissed, his voice taking on a greater dimension of seething fury than Jazz had ever heard. "Particularly after the noble actions of the Autobots at Vos nine vorns ago?"

Jazz flinched; he couldn't help it. Truth be told, he had been stunned to see a Decepticon sparkling, especially in the wake of Vos…

"He's fine," he repeated, looking away, and he passed Starscream quickly.

It was only later that Jazz realized how neatly Starscream had changed the subject from his concern for Nova. Decepticon sparkling or not, it was still unlike Starscream to worry about anything beyond himself. It was almost like a creator's attention towards a creation… but that was ridiculous. Starscream didn't care about anyone enough to bond with them, except maybe for his wingmates, and he certainly wasn't the type who'd want a sparking, especially not now.

It was a mystery, true, but Jazz delighted in mysteries.