Hey guys. First of all, Fanfiction still won't let me reply to reviews, and it's driving me insane, because I really want to reply to you guys. If you really need to get a reply from me, PM and I can reply that way. Even though I can't reply to reviews, I promise I've been reading them all and taking everything on board.

I realise that the last chapter definitely wasn't my best work. Everything has been really stressful at home with my granny being sick, and i think my head has just been elsewhere.

I really hope this chapter is better, but I can't really tell. I'm just hoping it is. Enjoy it, I guess? And I'd like to thank Aradow for being so understanding and supportive.

Jazz insisted on helping and assisting Optimus as his assistant for several weeks, until he was waddling stiffly instead of walking. His discomfort had been noted by Optimus, who insisted on moving around as little as possible. Jazz was grateful, of course, although slightly disgruntled by what he considered to be a weakness.

Right now, he was hurrying as fast as he could manage behind Optimus, who kept shooting him apologetic looks and slowing his pace to allow the shorter mech to catch up with him. Ignoring the looks, Jazz clutched the datapads he was carrying closer to his chassis.

It was with no small amount of relief that Jazz followed his leader into the Communications Room and made a beeline straight for the nearest chair. A relieved gust of air was expelled from his vents as he dropped into, and a small smile tilted up the edges of his lip. "Ah. Better."

An amused huff came from Optimus' vocaliser, and he focused his attention on Blaster, who was patiently awaiting orders by the largest terminal. "Contact Prowl, please."

Tensing almost imperceptibly, Jazz sat up straighter in his chair. There was a calm silence as Prowl's image flickered up onto the largest view screen in a video call. The SIC nodded respectfully. "Sir."

"Prowl." Optimus greeted, nodding in return. "I trust you are well?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Your recruitment mission is taking longer than expected."

"Yes, sir. It seems that the professors are most reluctant to allow their students to become associated with any faction in the war. It is taking some time to convince the tactical students to consider the Autobot cause, as the professors have insisted upon their neutrality being unquestioned."

"I see... Well, we have received more reports on students with potential in the tactical compartment. Jazz?"

Quickly shoving himself to his feet, Jazz waddled over to the Prime and shuffled through the datapads he was holding. "Um.. Hang on a sec... Oh, here it is!"

The Matrix-bearer took the proffered datapad with a grateful nod, and turned back to Prowl. Ignoring the fact that his SIC's optics were fixed firmly on the saboteur beside him, Optimus began to speak. "The following are the students who show potential in the tactical department: Runaway, Nightfall, Lighthouse.."

Jazz tuned out pretty quickly, staring around the room and fiddling with the datapads in his hands. It took effort to not look at Prowl.

"Noted. Thank you."

"Do you know when your mission will be at an end?"

"My battle computer cannot offer a suitable estimation," Prowl frowned, looking at a datapad in his hands. "But there have been a few 'bots that have expressed an interest in joining the Autobots as soldiers."

"Excellent." Appearing pleased with this new development, Optimus nodded and steepled his fingers. "Could you please tell Jazz the names of these potential new Autobot recruits so he can make a note of them?"

"...Certainly." Prowl shot his superior a curious look, but relayed the names to the saboteur, who nodded to himself as he marked them down on one of his datapads. As Prowl was calling out the names, Optimus excused both himself and Blaster and left the room, muttering some ridiculous excuse about inspecting the walls in the hallway.

After the last name had been called, Jazz nodded again and tucked his datapad away. "Right."

"Why are you taking notes for Optimus? I was under the impression that you were to be taken off-duty until the birth of your sparkling."

"Ah was bored. Prime offered me some work t' do. Secretarial work, but better than nothin'."

"I see."

"So..." Jazz shifted, hand splaying across his belly awkwardly. "Um... How's Hightail?" He inwardly cursed himself immediately; of all the things to ask about, why would he bring up that fragger?!

"He is.. slightly clingy."

"Oh?" The TIC couldn't hide the interest in his voice.

"Indeed." Doorwings twitching irritably, Prowl buried his face in one of his hands. "I do not know what to do. He is becoming increasingly hard to work with."

"Stab him."

"Jazz!"

"Just a suggestion." The saboteur shrugged lightly, a serene smile stretching over his faceplates.

"Your suggestions are unappreciated." Prowl muttered, glaring at the Third in Command.

"Well, what are ya doin' with him now?"

"I have been sending him on ridiculous made-up missions to try to distract him."

A laugh burst out of Jazz's vocaliser. "Huh. Nice."

A smile tilted the edges of the tactician's lips, but it slid off very quickly. "I should get back to my duties, and you should get back to yours."

Jazz almost opened his mouth to ask Prowl not to hang up so soon, but closed it quickly. Instead, he nodded and terminated the call before the tactician could get another word out. He let out a deep breath and braced himself against the terminal with both arms.

After a moment, he pushed himself away and waddled out of the room.

...

"Six recruits already?"

"Affirmative, sir."

As the Prime and his SIC were talking, Jazz found the time to have a glaring contest with Hightail. Well, 'contest' would suggest that it was two-sided. So far, it was just Jazz glaring blatantly at the junior tactician and hoping his head would explode.

"Excellent.. Jazz-"

"Here." The saboteur muttered, handing over the datapad he had been holding.

"Ah. Thank you." Optimus glanced over the datapad quickly, and nodded. "Yes... Wait, does that include-"

"It does." Jazz confirmed, drumming his fingers against his swollen abdomen.

"I see. So six out of the twenty-eight mechs you mentioned to Jazz in your last report have signed up for the Autobots, including two of the two tactical students?"

"Yes, sir."

Jazz shifted onto his other leg, frowning slightly and supporting his bump with two hands.

Noticing the change despite his conversation with the Prime, Prowl's optics zeroed in on the saboteur. "Are you well?"

Following his second's gaze, Optimus frowned at the sparked mech. "Jazz?"

The saboteur blinked and looked up, startled to see everyone staring at him. "Hm? Ah'm fine."

"Is everything okay?" As usual, Optimus appeared concerned.

"Um.. Yeah. Sparklin' is just... Ah dunno what it's doin'. It's movin' around a lot." The TIC winced as the sparkling kicked at him again.

"May I?"

Uncertain of what the Prime was asking permission for, Jazz just nodded. When the big mech leaned in and pressed one hand and his audio against Jazz's large abdomen, the saboteur just blinked again. "Um.. Prime? What're ya doin'?"

Optimus didn't reply.

Glancing at the monitor, Jazz noticed Prowl and Hightail had much the same bemused facial expressions as he currently did. The SIC leaned forward, looking completely bewildered at their leader's behaviour. "Optimus, this is most unbecoming. What are you doing?"

"Oh!" The Prime's optic ridges shot up, and he glanced towards the view screen. "Say something again."

"What? I don't understand, sir."

"Sir," Hightail spoke up uncertainly, glancing to Prowl before back at the Prime. "Does this have anything to do with our reports?"

Barely hiding his scowl as the junior tactician spoke, Jazz glanced down as the Prime laughed. "Oh, he doesn't like that." Optimus murmured, sounding thoroughly amused.

"What-?"

"It appears your sparkling is rather fond of Prowl's voice."

The tactician blinked, looking startled.

"He doesn't appear so fond of Hightail's."

The other tactician scowled, looking disgruntled.

"Well... That's nice. How do ya get it t'-" Jazz broke off, and frowned at his superior. "Ya called it a 'he'."

"Yes."

"It.. Is it a mech?"

"Well, it sounds like a mech."

"Sir, that is completely illogical. A sparkling of that age would not have its speech processes, and you would not be able to hear it from within the protective metal of Jazz's gestation chamber-"

"It still sounds like a mech."

Prowl looked as though he were about to glitch.

"Um.. So Ah'm havin' a mechling?"

"It certainly sounds like it."

"Sir, there is no plausible way you could tell the frame-type simply by listening to-"

"A mech.." Jazz tuned out, gazing down at his bump. It looked like a small continent. "Huh. Is he big? 'Cause the bump is sorta enormous."

"No, no, he is normal sized."

"Optimus, you are not a scanner. You could not possibly know the size-"

Jazz cut off Prowl's pragmatism. "Then why'm Ah gettin' so massive?"

"Well, though the sparkling itself is normal in size, his extra appendages are taking up a lot of space."

"Extra appendages..?"

"Yes. It sounds as though he has doorwings." Pressing his helm against Jazz's belly again, the massive mech nodded in confirmation. "Yes, I definitely hear doorwings."

This time, there was silence from Prowl. The tactician simply stared at the swollen abdomen on-screen with massive optics.

Curiously, Hightail leaned in closer on the view-screen, blocking out most of Prowl's face. "Doorwings?"

"Indeed."

"Smokescreen was the sixth most plausible option to be the sire! That means I've won 150 credits! Yes!"

A dark frown crossed what little of Prowl's face could be seen on the view screen. "Hightail, sit down at once."

"I hope that does not mean you were gambling, Hightail." Optimus added amicably, still listening closely to Jazz's gestation chamber as the sparkling kicked and shifted around.

"I- of course not, sir."

"You are dismissed." The growled order seemed slightly out of character for Prowl, but the junior tactician just nodded and fled the room.

"Hmm. The sparkling sounds healthy and happy."

"Sir..."

"I'm not listening, Prowl."

A light laugh fell from between Jazz's lips, and he found himself grinning. He was happier than he had felt for ages.

Optimus smiled too, before leaning back and nodding approvingly. "Well. I just need to run and get a file. I'll be right back."

"Ah can get it-" The saboteur began, about to turn to the door.

"Nonsense! You stay here!" The Prime was already halfway out the door. He smiled cheerfully behind his battlemask as the door whooshed close behind him.

Slowly, Jazz turned to look at the view screen in front of him, and almost winced to see Prowl was already staring intently at him. "Um.."

"Doorwings?"

"Yeah. Guess so." The TIC shuffled awkwardly, glueing his gaze to the floor. "Can't say Ah'm surprised. It is yours, after all."

"I know."

The admission caught Jazz by surprise, and he glanced up to stare. "Excuse meh?"

"Ratchet caught up to me before the ship left for Praxus and tried to 'beat some sense' into me. He explained my lack of Spark Energy Modulator, and how it leads to sparking. But.. I suppose I had harboured some suspicions before that."

"So ya knew?! Ya fraggin' knew, and ya said nothin'?! Ya knew, and ya fraggin' left?!"

The tactician sighed, and covered his face in his hands. "I am sorry."

"Sorry?! Sorry?!"

"I had no intention of sparking you, although I should have realised what the lack of Spark Energy Modulator meant. I should also have listened to you when you told me I was the sire. I simply.. My logic centre denied it. Every time I so much as considered it my processor crashed. The timing is... not very good."

"Yeah. Ah think that's a pretty good observation. Ya gonna explain why ya decided runnin' back t' Praxus with stupid fraggin' Hightail was a good idea?"

"I.. I do not know. I was being most illogical, and my battle computer was denying the validity of me being the sire. When Optimus mentioned a job in Praxus, I jumped at it. I apologise, Jazz."

Jazz felt his energy drain as he stared up at the Praxian's face. "You're a total aft." He said coldly, causing Prowl to flinch.

"I know."

"So all the fragging stress you've caused me is down to that stupid slagging logic centre of yours?"

"I've caused you stress?"

"Of course you've fragging caused me stress! I haven't know what to do with mahself since Ah first fragging found out Ah was sparked! And then when Ah actually told ya, ya ran away!"

The Praxian's doorwings had drooped so low they were almost flat against his back. "I am so sorry, Jazz. I was not thinkin straight, I- I will do anything to show you I am sorry. Because I am."

Jazz had to sit down, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. His anger had drained from him. Now he just felt like bursting into tears.

"When are you due?"

"Ratchet don't know." As he spoke, he ran his hands over his swollen gestation chamber. "He says soon. But... He doesn't actually have any of the tools needed for stuff like that. Um.. He's takin' an educated guess based on mah size, which is a li'l offensive."

"What was his educated guess?"

"'Bout a month."

"I hope to be back in Iacon by then. Are you... looking forward to the sparkling?"

"Well, not really. Ah ain't keepin' it anyway, so-"

"Of course we are."

"What?"

"Of course we are keeping it. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because- what? Ah don't.. Ya didn't want it."

"When did I say I did not want it?"

"Ah asked. Ages ago. Ah asked if ya would ever consider havin' a sparklin'. Ya said ya never wanted one."

"I said I never considered it. I never said I did not want one. It is illogical to begin raising a sparkling in this war, but.. I would not back away from this opportunity."

The saboteur didn't look at the screen. "Hm. Ah gotta go and catch up with Optimus."

"Jazz..."

"See ya." The sparked mech terminated the connection, and simply stared at the blank screen for a long moment.

Finally, he sighed and pushed himself away from the console, towards the door. He was tired and confused and happy and excited and conflicted and angry, but there was work to do. He would think about this later.