Disclaimer – Transformers ©Hasbro

/---------/

Jazz rested his helm in his palm as he listened to Wheeljack's lecture. Ordinarily, they'd be outside, 'Jack demonstrating how to properly attach a bomb to a wall and detonate it safely. Not today. Bad weather kept them inside.

"And now, Jazz? Would you come up here, and help me?" Wheeljack said, getting the young saboteur's attention.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." Jazz stood and walked to the front of the class room. "Whatcha need me to do?"

"Hold this, please." 'Jack said, handing him a bomb.

Jazz's optics widened behind his visor. "'Jack? This thing ain't live, is it?" he asked apprehensively, eyeing the bomb that sat semi-innocently in his palm.

"No, it's not live, Jazz. Do you think I would put a live bomb in your hand?" 'Jack said, digging in his desk.

"Um, yeah. Ya would." Jazz said, fighting the impulse to throw it out the window.

Wheeljack straightened, and gave the class a smile. "All right. Who wants to tell me the components used for this particular bomb?"

Someone answered, and 'Jack nodded. "Yes!" he took the bomb from Jazz. "Thanks, Jazz. You can go sit down now."

Jazz did so, and as he handed the bomb back to Wheeljack, it exploded, sending both Jazz and Wheeljack flying through the air in opposite directions. They crashed to the ground, both still online, though in some serious pain.

One of the students had the presence of mind to comm. Ratchet, and a few minutes later, the medic arrived with one of his students to help him carry 'Jack and Jazz to medbay.

Jazz onlined his visor and smiled up at the mech who was carrying him. "Hey, Aid."

First Aid smiled. "Hey, Jazz. What did you do?"

"Wasn' me. 'Jack's bomb went off as I was handin' it back to him." Jazz shifted slightly and winced, biting back a yelp of pain.

"Don't move. You're missing your right hand completely, and you have several scratches, cuts and dents. I would imagine that you're in a lot of pain." First Aid said, gently setting him down on the medical berth.

Jazz nodded, watching as First Aid moved around the medbay, expertly gathering the tools he would need to fix the minor wounds. "Aid? Are ya replacin' my hand?"

First Aid laughed. "No. I'm leaving that for Ratchet. I'm nowhere near qualified for that yet. I can treat your cuts and dents, though."

Jazz winced at the thought of being left to Ratchet's not-so-tender mercies. The doors hissed open, and both First Aid and Jazz looked up to see Prowl, Sides, Sunny and Blue standing in the doorway.

Whang, whang, whang, whang!

First Aid and Jazz winced as the four mechs dropped, holding their helms. "Ouch." First Aid commented as he resumed work.

Jazz's optics widened as First Aid pulled a needle out, and filled it. "Whoa, hey, Aid? Ya aren' plannin' to stick me with that thing, are ya?"

"Yes, why?"

Jazz inched away from him. "Man, I don' like needles."

"Well, you need it."

"No, I don'."

First Aid looked at Jazz, exasperation written all over him. "Jazz. Hold still."

"No way, man! Ya ain't stickin' me with that thing!"

Ratchet heard the commotion, and looked over. "What's wrong?"

First Aid didn't even look up as he spoke. "He's refusing to let me give him a sedative."

Ratchet walked over to where Jazz was still trying to inch away from First Aid.

Whang!

A silver blur, then Jazz was out cold. "There. Now get to work."

First Aid nodded mutely, resuming his work on Jazz's wounds.

/---------/

Jazz came around, his helm killing him, but otherwise he was fine. He looked around, and saw the familiar ceiling of his room. He turned his head, and saw Prowl on the berth across the room from him. "Yo."

Prowl looked up and smiled. "Hey. How're you feeling?"

"Sore." Jazz quipped. "I feel like I should be askin' ya that."

Prowl smiled ruefully as he rubbed his helm. "I'm fine."

"If ya say so. How're the Twins, an' Blue?"

"The same as me, I would assume. The Twins are remarkably hard-headed, and truth be told, Blue shook it off." Prowl said with a laugh. "They're in the rec. room getting lunch."

Jazz nodded. "Works for me."

Prowl looked Jazz up and down. "Mind telling me what happened?"

Jazz laughed. "One of 'Jack's bombs went off, an' it blasted my right hand off."

Prowl's optics widened. "What? Why were you so close to it anyway?"

Jazz rubbed the back of his helm. "He was havin' me hold the bomb."

"WHY?!"

Jazz held his hands up, noting the new hand. "Hey, he swore the thing wasn' live! 'Sides, it went off as I was handin' it back to Jack."

"You're lucky you didn't get killed." Prowl said, sliding off his berth to hug Jazz tight.

Jazz hugged him back. "I'm sorry I scared ya."

"That, Jazz, is putting it mildly." Prowl said, sliding onto Jazz's berth.

Jazz shifted to accommodate him. "Well, I'm alive, and I have a new hand. I'd say I'm good."

Prowl laughed. "You would. Do you have to take that class?"

"Yeah. It's kinda required for what I'm plannin' to be, don'tcha think?"

Prowl sighed. "Yeah, I guess. But try not to blow yourself up again, okay?"

Jazz laughed. "Deal."

/--------/

A/N – And I'm cutting it off there! Jazzy/Prowler fluff! Or at least, just a little bit. Well, read, review, and lemme know what you think!