A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews. It am frustrated by the fact that this website is not delivering the review alerts, but I feel so gratified by all the wonderful comments. I hope you like this one. And don't worry, there's even more after this.

You know my disclaimers.

EDIT*: I fixed up the spelling errors! I didn't notice cos my eyes feel like they've been rolled around in cornflakes and looking at the screen is killing me.

"Heat? What do you mean I'm in heat?"

Chapter 10

In the dawn of a new day, a vocaliser in Prowl's quarters made a soft groan.

As Jazz slowly booted up, he snuggled down into the warm frame beneath him, sighing in contentment.

Wait.

Warm frame?

Who on Earth did he have such a wild time with that he forgot such an occasion? But then again, Jazz mused as all his systems synchronised, he had only ever fragged others for a type of healing or to release pent up frustration ever since he realised he had grown attracted to Prowl. Slowly, Jazz onlined his optics.

And promptly began to panic inside.

For one thing: his visor was up, revealing his damaged optics to the air, unshielded by his visor. He never did that. Ever. Why…?

But the second thing might have explained that. For Prowl was lying beneath him and had apparently been his pillow for the night. Jazz froze in shock. Surely if he had finally seduced Prowl, he would have remembered it? Jazz stilled, taking in the recharging form. Prowl was relaxed in recharge, a small smile on his face and…his spike still held within Jazz's valve. Jazz mewled at the feel.

Why couldn't he remember…?

And then like a dam wall broke, all the memories came flooding back.

Oh dear Primus!

He'd been in heat!

Heat!

Jazz groaned again, only mortification laced the sound. Ratchet, who had given him his first release, Blaster, who had taken him when he had been bold enough to sneak into his friend's quarters. Then seducing Inferno and getting a package deal with Red Alert, being the second mech Red Alert had ever been with. Mirage, who had teased and played with him in the middle of an empty hallway while invisible. The twins, who had done him over thoroughly and gave him the experience of having two spikes in his valve. Bluestreak…Primus, it would have been rape if not for the fact that Bluestreak had reciprocated – and had quite eagerly too. And then…oh frag…he had fragged Starscream and his trine. As good as it was…anyway. Then Optimus! Jazz's faceplates flushed as he realised Optimus had called Elita's name. Poor mech.

And Prowl.

Every clear detail of his two interfaces with Prowl etched himself in his memory banks. Their first, rushed one, and their second, most tender one. That was when he opened his visor, and when Prowl had shed a tear which he had kissed away.

"Pit," Jazz swore quietly, and thumped his helm down on Prowl's chestplate.

He instantly regretted it when Prowl began to shift under him, and as Prowl shifted, his spike shifted in Jazz's valve, slowly kindling the passion from last night as sensor nodes were stimulated yet again. Jazz gritted his denta, wishing he had not woken Prowl up. It felt too good. He stilled as Prowl finally booted up and his optics flickered online. The Praxian then made a garbled noise low in his vocaliser, still not completely with it. 'Pit!' Jazz swore again, but inwardly – for a slightly recharge disorientated Prowl was cute!

"Morning beautiful," Prowl mumbled. It was so good to have Jazz still here and lying upon him as if he belonged there.

Jazz made a small hum, but didn't dare say anything more. Prowl's voice saying those words was honey in his audios, and he didn't trust himself to speak and break Prowl's proverbial bubble.

Prowl chuckled softly and said, "This has got to be the best way I have ever woken up…great recharge too." A white hand reached up and stroked Jazz's helm, paying particular attention to the sensory horns. Jazz couldn't resist letting out a moan this time, but felt as his valve began to lubricate again as new spikes of arousal traversed his frame.

The saboteur then wished a hole would magically open and swallow him up as Prowl stopped his soft touches and felt the warming of the valve around his spike. A little grin stretched across his lips and he chuckled again, "Eager for more? You mechs in heat are insatiable."

Jazz shivered and unwillingly ground his hips down, hissing at the intimate contact. He could pull away and clue Prowl in, he could-

-but any protest he held was quashed when Prowl rolled them over so he was above Jazz and ground his length into the slickening folds around him. Jazz hissed again as overstimulated sensors sang out in pleasure. He wasn't in heat anymore! He could say no! But…oh it felt so good, so right, for Prowl to take him once more. So right for the mech he wanted to finally be with him. His hands flew up to embrace around Prowl's neck as his lover pulled out slightly and then pushed back in, testing to see if the valve was lubricated enough. Jazz gasped, feeling the tip of that wonderful spike rake over the intimate sensors deep within.

"Exquisite," Prowl mused aloud, propping himself up properly for ease of movement.

The doorwings on Prowl's back quivered in arousal, aching in his own need. Jazz was mesmerised by the movement, but nearly offlined in shock with Prowl's next actions.

For the tactician had craned his neck down to place two soft kisses on his damaged optics again, just as he did last night. A rush of affection overtook Jazz and he felt relief in the fact that Prowl didn't see him as a defective mech because of his flaw.

"Beautiful," Prowl whispered again.

And then the Praxian's hands were everywhere on his hotspots, tactically going from least to most sensitive and reducing Jazz to a puddle of melted circuits. While this was happening, the sensation of Prowl's length slowly, but steadily moving in and out deep within him fed itself to Jazz's spark and processor, new jolts of lust wracking his frame with each touch of the hands on his body, or the spike in valve.

"Prowler," gasped Jazz, mini-explosions popping up before his optics as Prowl began to move with efficient, firmer strokes – nowhere near hard and demanding, but constant and sure.

"Jazz," replied Prowl, nuzzling his nose against the other playfully.

Jazz's words died before they left his mouth, and sensation drowned any other coherent thoughts. There was nothing but sounds, visuals, and feel. His helm tipped back into the soft pillows, and the material brushed against his horns, feeding more pleasure data into him. With a groan, he hooked his legs around Prowl's hips, making the squeeze of his valve even tighter.

The next push of Prowl's hips in caused his optics to flicker.

"Yes…Prowler…more," Jazz groaned unsteadily.

Prowl pressed his lips against Jazz's own, muffling the wanton cry as he went a little faster, a little firmer. It was hard to keep control for too long, so the doorwinged mech tried to prolong the pleasure with every smooth stroke. Prowl was thoroughly enjoying the slightly smaller frame pressed up against his own, the pale thighs pressed around his hips to draw him deeper, the hands clutching, pinching and rubbing at his neck cabling and the pliant lips against his own. The subject of his fantasies was being played out so deliciously…it was a wonderful feeling and Prowl felt like he was floating.

"Jazz," gasped Prowl, breaking off and burying his helm in the warm shoulder – the one he had bitten last night – and continued to glide in and out of the valve, feeling the tightening around his abdominal cables that indicated he was close to overloading, and the tightness of the warm walls around his spike – almost painfully tight – that indicated Jazz was too.

"Unnn, babe," moaned Jazz, feeling his lover swivel his hips around get his spike to hit every sensor node dead on.

Prowl just panted and gasped, obviously trying to keep control. Seeing this, Jazz smirked and slid a hand down Prowl's shoulder and to a doorwing, activating a light mag-pulse.

The reaction was instantaneous. Prowl's systems, bearing the full brunt of all the sensations as they drowned him, overloaded, and overloaded hard, jets of transfluid streaming out of his rigid spike to fill Jazz with his essence. His face was an open expression of pleasure, optics bright and neck arched. It almost made Jazz overload from the sight as Prowl cried out, shouting Jazz's name. He flopped down, spent, but raised his helm and asked softly, "You didn't overload, did you?"

Jazz shook his helm, but a satisfied smile was on his face. He had always, always wanted to see how mag-pulses affected doorwings. He just got his answer.

Prowl frowned and began to move down Jazz's body, lightly touching parts of his panelling that hid some of the most delicate and pleasurable sensors, keeping Jazz revved up as he slithered down further on the berth, coming to rest at Prowls pelvic area with his still open panel.

Jazz was confused at first as to what Prowl was doing, but the gasped as Prowl's hot ex-vents from his mouth ghosted over the trembling entrance of his valve, which was slowly leaking out Prowl's silvery transfluid. His gasp turning into a cry as the chevroned mech between his legs gave a darting, broad lick to the entrance, making him clutch his hands into the sheets of the berth. So sensitive was his valve that he knew that a few licks and he'd be gone, swept away in the overload.

Prowl smirked at the reaction, kissing around the valve before licking again, purring, "Delicious…we taste good together."

That made Jazz shudder in ecstasy.

Prowl then eased his glossa in and clamped his hands down on the black hips as Jazz wailed. Ooh, the saboteur was very close, valve spiralling down hard on his glossa in want. Deciding not to leave the poor mech hanging, the tactician began to move his glossa furiously, flicking against the top nodes, laving against the bottom ones and sucking gently for extra sensation. Not even a minute of this decadent treatment and Jazz overloaded, his spill mingling with the rest of Prowl's and delivering the fluids onto Prowl's waiting glossa.

Jazz thrashed his helm and cried out incoherently. Primus, Prowl was good with that glossa. He was pretty good with everything actually. Somewhere Jazz noted it might have been because he was a tactician.

Prowl licked up every drop of lubricant and transfluid, purring low in his vocaliser as he did so, before cleaning them both up quickly and moving up to lay side by side with a very sated Jazz.

"Mmm," moaned Prowl as Jazz took his lips with his own, their glossa's sliding against the other and sharing the combined taste.

Jazz smirked, "Ya're right. We do taste good together."

Prowl smiled back, wrapping around Jazz's waist and sighing happily, "I'm kind of glad you are in heat actually. It's made it easier to…well…convince me about something. To tell you how I feel. And there's an innocence about you. Like the special ops bot is hiding somewhere."

Jazz winced, but knew it wouldn't be right not to clue Prowl in. Clearing his vocaliser, he blurted, "Ah'm not in heat anymore."

Jazz winced again as he felt, more than saw, Prowl's smile vanish and his frame tense. Regret washed over him, but he knew it had to be done. Time to be truthful.

"Since when?" came Prowl's strained reply.

"Erm…kinda since ah woke up," replied Jazz, smiling a bit sheepishly.

Prowl moved so fast Jazz was sure he pulled a cable or two, shooting off the berth to stand awkwardly next to the it, back to Jazz and those glorious doorwings held tensely still except for the occasional twitch. "Jazz…that means I shouldn't of. That is, I took advantage of you just then, you weren't in heat – you didn't need it," he said, voice even more strained.

Jazz leapt off the berth, grunting as he did so and said matter-of-factly, "Prowl, Ah'm an ops mech. With ya in a relaxed state, if Ah didn't want it, Ah'd have let ya know." He rounded the berth and stood in front of the other black and white, who was stubbornly not looking at him, and cupped his cheek before saying in a softer tone, "Ah wanted it. Ah know ya wanted it. Don't do this to yaself Prowler."

Prowl sighed and leaned into the black hand, nuzzling softly against it and said quietly, "Then you'll know that I love you."

Jazz smiled, even with his faulty optics he could see those doorwings sag in relaxation. "Yeah, I kinda guessed. No otha mech'd probably react the way ya did to my optics. And then…ya'll know Ah love ya right back."

Prowl smirked and replied, echoing Jazz's words, "I kind of guessed. The only mech I knew you'd ever open your visor to is someone you care about. Unless it's medical of course."

They both laughed and the familiarity from each other came back, but the tone had changed. Friendship gave way to something more. To affection and newly acknowledged love. Jazz leaned forward, nestling against Prowls neck as warm arms embraced him and held tight.

"How long have ya loved me Prowler?" asked Jazz, tone uncommonly gentle.

"I began to have feelings for you about 100 years before we left Cybertron, and I think I realised that it had developed into something more powerful a few months after we woke up here on Earth," Prowl mused, stroking his thumb over his lover's plating on his lower back.

Jazz grinned, chuckling, "Man, ya got nothin' on me mech. Ah've wanted ya for about 200,000 years."

Prowl blanched visibly and said, "Was I that oblivious?"

The saboteur shrugged in reply, "Well, Ah kinda knew you weren't ready. That Ah couldn't force ya or be overt even if ah wanted to. But yeah, ya were kinda oblivious."

Prowl rolled his optics at the grin, but quipped dryly, "Now we've got our obvious sexual tension out of the way, it might be proper if I actually ask you out on a date."

Jazz laughed and replied, "Sounds good to me."

He took Prowl's arms from around his body, saying, "Ah better go see the Hatchet. See if the heat's really gone and all." He clicked down his visor, depriving Prowl of gazing into those treasured, cheeky optics for the time being. As he took a first step, he hissed with slight pain and his step turned into a waddle. Prowl was torn between wincing in sympathy and laughing at the sight of Jazz as all the sensors in his valve finally came out of their heat state and began to realise just how many interface's he had.

"Prowl…could ya give a mech a hand here?" he asked, keeping still. No one ever said anything about the slight soreness in their interface region after the fact!

"Of course," Prowl acquiesced, pressing his side up against Jazz and abruptly picking him up bridal style.

"Oi!" Jazz said, not entirely impressed with the method Prowl had chosen.

"Humor me Jazz," Prowl said with a dry smirk, "Besides it takes more pressure off your valve so it won't hurt on the way there."

After the CMO had laughed himself silly at Prowl carrying Jazz to the medbay and the subsequent waddle to the berth, he got down to business while the 2IC went to go get his and Jazz's morning energon. Ratchet's hands were applying some gel to Jazz's valve, which was now dry – the normal state when not aroused. The gel slid easily so he wouldn't hurt Jazz more. It was both a cooling and numbing gel, giving Jazz instant relief.

"I knew you and Prowl were going to end up together," stated Ratchet, finishing off and wiping his hands on a nearby towel.

"Yeah, well, Ah was kinda hopin' that something would bring us together sooner or later. Kinda glad it was this," replied Jazz, shutting his panel and relaxing.

"Hmpf," grunted Ratchet, before saying, "I'm going to perform a check up on you. Just in case."

"In case of what?"

"Stupidity," quipped the medic, getting a spark scanner off the shelf first before hooking into Jazz's systems with the scanner and beginning the scan.

Prowl re-entered then, two cubes of fresh energon in his hands as he approached the berth. Jazz smiled fondly, glad to finally admit what he felt for so long, He had to say, though, that Prowl had a sort of glow about him. He was more relaxed, seemingly more at peace. It was a good change to see in his lover.

The scanner beeped.

As Ratchet analysed the readings, Jazz took the cube and winked the side of his visor. Prowl opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Ratchet's sharp curse.

"Slag heat to the pit, back, and down to the depths again!" Ratchet swore, frowning at the readings before looking sharply at Jazz.

"What's up Hatch?" asked Jazz, a little warily. Ratchet only used that curse for the twins.

"Some idiot turned off their SEM when they overloaded inside of you," Ratchet huffed, rubbing his forehelm in a gesture of exasperation.

"…Come again? Ah think ya just said-"

"You're sparked, Jazz," said Ratchet, folding his arms and glaring into space.

Jazz, who had felt so light and floaty, felt like all the elation had been sucked right out of him. Sparked? He was going to have a sparkling? Well, it wouldn't be too bad if not for the fact he was looking forward to being with Prowl after so long of waiting. What if it was the Seeker's? Or the twins? What would his new lover think of that?

Or it could be Prowl himself.

Jazz frowned. Prowl wouldn't do that. No way. He'd think it'd be illogical to turn off the SEM inside of an in heat mech. This was war, no place to raise a sparkling in. Jazz looked up.

Prowl's face was blank. Too blank. Right now, Jazz wished he could have Soundwave's ability to read processors so he could see exactly what Prowl was thinking. A bout of insecurity hit him. Would Prowl be disgusted?

"Ratchet…are you going to test each mech that had…relations with Jazz to see who would be the creator?" Prowl asked, tone clear and voice even.

Ratchet thought about it, and answered, "Yes. Coding is always strong regardless of stage of development. Give me a second, I got some specific sparkling spark scanners out in the storeroom." And he left.

"Well, this is awkward…" mumbled Jazz.

He felt a touch on his hand and Prowl's fingers twined with his and squeezed gently. He raised his gaze to find Prowl with a small, reassuring smile. "It'll be fine Jazz. Besides…I have a hunch. Something that…anyway, I think we'll prepare for everything. Together." Jazz instantly felt light with the words, and he reached up to give Prowl a soft kiss.

"Ahem," Ratchet cleared his vocaliser loudly, making the two black and white's break off.

"Honestly Ratch, ya really know how to ruin a mood," teased Jazz.

"Yeah yeah. I've heard it before," he grumbled, switching the new scanner on before holding it over Jazz's chestplates and also plugging it into a data port near his neck. There was silence for a few minutes, before a soft chirp and the machine finished. Ratchet found the sparkling code, isolated it, and unplugged the machine. As he saved the sparkling code into his databanks, he got a comm. from the tactician standing next to him.

::Can you please check my SEM system? Some error readings came up last night and I dismissed them:: came the cool request.

Without displaying any outward sign of emotion, Ratchet commed back ::You do realise I want to slag you right now if you are saying what you think you're saying::

::It was an honest accident if my hunch is correct::

::Do I even want to know what percentage your logical processor is putting out right now about the fact you may be a creator?:: As he commed this, he mentioned for Prowl to get on the berth, much to the confusion of Jazz as he did not know of their exchange and watched as Ratchet plugged the spark scanner into Prowl's systems.

::Not really, no. But you shouldn't worry. You know I'm a mech of my word. Even if the sparkling is not mine I will still act like it is. Besides, it doesn't take away my feelings. You of all mechs should know that:: Prowl replied mildly. He was, of course, referring to the uneasy initial courtship between Wheeljack and Ratchet. Between Wheeljack blowing himself up and his low standing with the mechs of the senate before the war and Ratchet's temper and lack of care for stuffy government, their romance was legendary among the Autobot ranks. And yet they were still together.

The scanner beeped.

Jazz tensed. The moment of truth.

"You slagger," whispered Ratchet to Prowl, "You're SEM has been broken since we crashed here!"

"Is that your backward way of saying, congratulations, you're a creator?" Prowl smirked dryly.

Ratchet shook his helm, sighing, "No, that's my way of saying go spend some time with Jazz coming up with a few names. Have some peace and then after a few days I'll fix your blasted SEM. Go on, get!"

Jazz was slightly shocked. Prowl…Prowl was the creater…cos his SEM was broken? That was one to tell the sparkling when it grew up. 'See the thing is sweetspark, we actually didn't mean to have you. It was a birth control glitch.' Yeah…sure. He was numb from the knowledge, and didn't realise that Prowl had led them from the medbay and to Prowl's quarters until he was sitting on the berth. A touch on his shoulder roused him, and his vision adjusted to see Prowl, kneeling before him, solemn expression on his face.

"Are you mad at me? I know this wasn't exactly how I thought today would go, but I wouldn't change the knowledge I'm a creator for a thing," Prowl said softly, loosely taking hold of Jazz's hand again.

Jazz sighed, "Ah don't know. Ah mean, it's wonderful and all to be able to have a sparklin', especially with ya, but Ah kinda figured after the war, ya know?" Jazz smiled though, taking Prowl's hand in both of his own, "And Ah've always wanted a sparklin', a little one to call my own with the mech Ah love. Maybe even more than one, a big bunch, a big family. It's been the dream, babe, as corny as it sounds."

The Praxian mech cupped his face and repeated, "But you're not mad? It's my fault after all."

With more confidence, Jazz replied, "Nah, not at all Prowler. Ah've known ya for such a long time we practically are an old bonded couple. But bein' with ya is kinda unconventional. Strange for such a logical mech." His tone turned teasing, "Just think, ya 'faced and knocked me up and we haven't even gone on the first date. Ah mean, pretty impressive."

Prowl laughed with his lover and got up from his kneel to lie on the berth next to Jazz. Having him in his arms at last felt good.

And the knowledge that he was going to be a creator with the mech he loved made him oddly proud.

"Love ya Prowler," said Jazz.

"Love you Jazz," replied Prowl.

A/N: Ohmigosh, this is almost done! I really wanted to give you guys this chapter, so I thought, "to hell with Liberalism, Prowl and Jazz smut and fluffiness needs me more!"

Please review…you know I love em ;)