A/N OK! Sorry about this looooong delay, A dear friend of mine passed away in a motorcycle accident and I couldn't find the inspiration to write. Well...now it's come back.

Disclaimer: Hasbro owns Transfomer

Prowl groaned in pain. His door wings ached in sharp protest as he shifted on the couch to be closer to the lithe frame of Jazz.

"Higher, a little to the left. Ah! Primus Jazz you've got magic hands."

Jazz chuckled as he massaged the door joints of his beloved prowler. "What can ya say Prowler. I've got da touch."

Prowl rolled his optics and let out an amused huff. "Yes, you do." Prowl pulled away as his door wings felt better. "Thanks. You better hurry or you'll be late for your shift." Prowl tried to get off the couch, but couldn't. Half a month left, and Prowl had finally reached the maximum according to Ratchet. Although the medic himself had said he was stunned, no, shocked to see Prowl's stomach grow to such a size because of one sparkling. Prowl didn't really blame him. The SIC couldn't even wash below his belly now without risking falling over. Jazz had to help him, and boy, did Jazz like a stunning gleam to be the end result.

Jazz saw Prowl struggling to right himself and quickly helped pull him up onto his pedes. He watched in concern as the sparked mech placed one servo in the small of his back strut and the other on top of his stomach.

"Kickin again?" Jazz asked.

Prowl grimaced. "It's moving around again. I think it inherited your love of dancing."

Jazz laughed. "Well at least it's a good thing it hasn't tried to dance ta Blaster's tunes."

Prowl snorted. "Don't give it any ideas."

Jazz smiled and kissed the center of the sparked mech's chevron. "I'll see ya later."

As Jazz walked away, Prowl smiled. 'Jazz really is the best mech anyone can ask for.' He thought. 'He's sweet and funny and has those kissable lips and that sexy armor and-' Prowl shook himself out of that with shock. He quickly made his way to his office, locking the door behind him.

"Where did those thoughts come from? !" He muttered. Sure, he admitted that his attraction to Jazz was increasing since they started dating, but Prowl was taken aback that he was thinking of Jazz like that considering the situation.

Prowl sat down with effort at his desk and tried to get the few reports he had done. Halfway through the first report, images of Jazz smiling seductively crept into his head. Prowl tried to push the thought aside as he picked up another datapad. This one was on the water supply for the wash racks. The word "steam" came up, and the SIC's mind was transported to a steamy shower stall where Jazz stood beckoning.

Prowl threw the report sideways. "Primus no!" He yelled. "I'm sparked! I shouldn't be so..." Prowl stopped as he couldn't remember the word he was looking for. Humans used it, and all he could remember is that is rhymed with thorny.

"I just need to focus." Prowl looked onto his desk, and suddenly, he imagined Jazz coming in and interfacing with him on top of said desk.

"Ahg! !" Prowl yelled in frustration. With alot of strained effort, Prowl rose from his desk and left his office, heading straight for his berth room.

"I just need sleep."He muttered as he crawled onto his berth. "Just need some sleep."

An hour later, Hound was walking down the hall when Prowl approached.

"Good afternoon Prowl" Hound said cheerfully.

Prowl smiled. "Hound." The way Prowl said it made Hound's mind do a double take. The black and white mech's voice was soft, almost silky, and his optics were...turquoise?

"Uh Prowl? You feeling alright?"

"Never better. Just woke up from a nap." Prowl nearly purred. "Have you seen Jazz?"

Hound was getting downright nervous at the sight of the SIC. "Y-yeah. He's in the wash racks. Got mud on his door.

"Thanks." Prowl smiled again as he sauntered, or rather half waddled, half sauntered off.

Jazz stood in the steam and spray of the shower as he whistled a merry little tune. No one else was around, and Jazz had removed his visor so it wouldn't steam over. He hadn't shown anyone his optics; only Ratchet and Optimus knew what was behind the visor. It's purpose was to cover up his odd optics. One was standard blue, the other was sea green. It wasn't really that noticeable, but bots like Cliffjumper would be on his case saying he was some freak of nature. The sea green optic had been an injury when he was little, and one he didn't like to explain. The visor helped with the vision problem it produced.

Jazz was rubbing a second coat of cleaning solution on himself when he felt hands rub him from behind. He looked down and chuckled.

"Hey Prowler."

The hands started to move up and down his frame, making him a tremor when Prowl's voice whispered into his audio receptor. "Hey smexy."

Red flags shot into Jazz's mind as he rounded on Prowl. Prowl's eyes were turquoise, and he had a look on his face Jazz had never seen. Aggressive, hungry, lustful.

"P-Prowl? Ya ok?" Jazz stuttered out.

Prowl closed the distance, hand trailing up the slippery white plates to the spark chamber. "Better now that I found you. Shower huh? Good choice." Prowl's fingers began to feel around the edge of Jazz's chest plates. Jazz quickly took Prowl's hands and lowered them away from his armor.

"Prowl, your sparked! This isn't you!" Jazz sputtered out. Prowl advanced like a lion stalking a baby zebra, causing Jazz to back up until he hit the corner.

"Oh, this is very much me. Now enough games Jazz." Prowl's voice purred and his engine produced a seductive hum. He again got into Jazz's personal space bubble; his hands began walking to the interfacing panel.

"Pr-Ah!" Jazz yelped as Prowl had found a sensor junction. His engine kicked to life and produced a well tuned growl.

"Ah, there we are." Prowl whispered triumphantly.

Jazz had to think fast. He wouldn't be able to stave off Prowl's advance much longer.

"Prowl, can I step out and get ma wax first?"

Prowl chuckled. "Oh, kinky. Sure."

Jazz stepped past Prowler and headed to the door. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here hot stuff."

The second Jazz cleared the door, he tore off to the Medbay.

He burst in on Ratchet repairing something that probably came off of Wheeljack.

"RATCHET! ! !"

Ratchet dropped his work and was struck dumb by the wet, soapy, visorless frame in front of him. "What? Medical emergency? ?"

"It's Prowl! He's acting weird!"

Ratchet grew very worried. "Define weird."

"He cornered me in the wash racks and tried ta suduce me!"

A pause echoed in the Medbay until in a flurry of white, Ratchet collapsed on the ground in a fit of hysterical laughter. "He-he-BWahHAahHA! !" The CMO was holding his sides and his pedes were flailing wildly. It was even funnier when he saw the look Jazz had plastered on his faceplates.

Eventually, Ratchet threw an arm up onto his work table and pulled himself up. "Oh Sweet Primus!" He snorted. "I didn't think he'd do that!"

"Do what?" Jazz was getting a bit annoyed.

It took Ratchet a minute to get himself together enough to reply without giggling like a drunken moron. "Prowl is Praxian. Usually Praxian carriers have urges to interface with the sire like little turbo bunnies. It's completely natural and should subside in a day or two if the sire shows no interest. If they do, the carrier will continue to want to interface until they run out of energy to or the sire no longer wishes it."

Jazz was puzzled by this but a thought did come to mind. "So does this mean-?"

Ratchet's medical demeanor overrid his amusement. "No. Absolutely not. Prowl is far too along for a good fragging. It runs the risk of a premature birth if he overloads. Generally, Praxian carriers don't have urges this late in carrying. My only guess is that pit spawned battle computer screwed with his systems and had a canipglitch. Under no circumstances are you two to interface. Understand?"

Ratchet went back to his work; a singed peice of white plating. Jazz thought of something. "What am I supposed ta do?"

Ratchet understood the message. "Picture Alpha Trion without his armor."

Jazz tilted his head sideways as Ratchet looked up. The medical officer just shrugged. "Works for me."

The TIC left the Medbay and went into the washroom to get his visor. When he got there, Prowl was gone. Lying on the floor was a note.

You can run but you can't hide studmuffins. XOXO

~Prowl

Jazz groaned. "Primus give me strength." He muttered.