Break Off

Author's notes: It split... again...


There is nothing harder than catching Jazz, especially when the slagger expected to be hunted. Sideswipe prowled from room to room searching for the black and white mech. He even searched the immediate grounds with no sign of the Porsche. Sideswipe scuffed at a rock stuck in the ground. He glared at the forest, unable to find the target of his ire. He entered the Ark, heading for the control room, and the communication center therein. Surely Blaster, of all mechs on the base, would know where his best friend was.

Sunstreaker's voice broke through his angry daze. "Sides, where the slag are you? We're supposed to have been on patrol ten breems ago."

"I was trying to find Jazz, bro."

"Well get out here before Prowl finds out you're late."

"Let him say one word to me," Sideswipe snarled back, his already sour mood darkening. But he turned and dropped to his wheels, screeching out to meet his brother.

Feet scattered out of his way. He recognized the winged form of Prowl.

"Sideswipe?" The tactician switched to his vocalizer to cover his comm. "No cars in the Ark." Even as he yelled at Sideswipe, Prowl continued with a quiet request over the comm. channel. "Can we talk?"

Sideswipe ignored both the message and Prowl's shout. Nine years on the fragging green planet and just now he wanted to talk? Oh fragging Pits, no.

If it hadn't been for that slagging glitch saboteur, they'd still happy. Somehow, this had to be Jazz's fault.

Sunstreaker pulled up next to him, pressing closer to lightly tap his side, offering comfort with his touch. The twins dropped their speed to a little faster than was needed on patrol.

"Why Jazz?" Sunstreaker asked suddenly. "It's that lying fragger you should be after. He's the one who betrayed you."

Sideswipe paused in snapping out a retort. Mad as he was, he wanted to put his fists into something, but he was still reluctant to lay a hand on Prowl. He still loved the slagger, after all. Several tens of thousands of vorn of attachment wouldn't just disappear in the course of a human week. "I don't want to hurt Prowl," he finally admitted.

"What are you talking about? He fragging deserves it! This is a load of glitchmice from the Pits." Sunstreaker ground his gears in frustration. "I don't think Jazz has any idea what's going on, and he does not need to find out. He's a smart slagger and he would've been more careful talking to me if he knew about you and Prowl."

Sideswipe considered this. His brother had a point. If Jazz didn't already know, then he didn't need to find out. Sideswipe turned sharply at one of the intersections along their patrol route, his wheels squealing out his anger on the street. But the saboteur had looked in his direction with such a jealously possessive grip on Prowl…

"Fine, bro. I'll talk to the slagger." This was going to end, one way or the other.


Prowl hesitated at the door to his quarters, his hinges twitching with the painful reminder that he still lacked his doorwings. Jazz's delving into the open crevices had helped him none, and he looked forward to curling up in recharge. He analyzed everything in his room, searching for the source of his unease. He ran through his routine from the morning. Did he lay that datapad there before he left? Was that picture askew before? He pulled from his memory files and laid them out against his battle computer several times. Unable to find the anomaly, Prowl completed the final steps into his room and his door hissed close behind him.

He realized with a start that it had been his sensors that were warning him. He was so accustomed to the sanctity of the officers' quarters that he'd completely ignored the presence that his scanners told him was there. He scrambled away from the looming figure that stepped out of a shadowed corner. He realized why he'd ignored that signature as a hand grabbed his arm, halting his progress.

"Sideswipe? What are you doing here?"

A sneer crossed the Lamborghini's handsome face. "Why? You wouldn't be expecting someone else would you? That would be fragging prime, you know, two 'Cons with one shot.

"No, Sides, I'm not expecting anyone else. Why would I be?" Prowl stiffened in the warrior's hands. He'd never really had any reason to fear his lover, but the chilling look in Sideswipe's optics and the harsh grip on his arm forced him to remember that this was Sunstreaker's brother. Just as violent, just as dangerous. But Prowl had never had any cause to face that side of the red twin. If it hadn't been for the familiar conformation and the red paint, Prowl would have thought himself back in those woods facing a wrathful Sunstreaker.

Sideswipe glowered down at the tactician and squeezed Prowl closer. "Oh, I don't know, Prowl. Maybe someone else black and white?" His vocalizer dropped a few octaves and air hissed out of his vents. "I don't like being made a fool of, Prowl. Even if nobody else knows about it." Sideswipe thrust Prowl away suddenly, and jerked him back just as quickly. Prowl staggered in Sideswipe's grip, his sides aching as he tried to compensate for the warrior's movement.

"Sideswipe, wait! You don't understand-" Prowl hadn't realized that he'd been dragged around his quarters until Sideswipe swung him into the desk. He cut off his vocalizer against a yell. He did not need anyone coming in to investigate, not right now.

"Oh, I understand, all right. Nine slagging years, you and Jazz've been laughing your tailpipes off at me." Sideswipe whipped the tactician around, wrenching his arms back and up. "Well you've had your fun. Now it's my turn, Prowl."

"Nine years?" Cables and gears whined in Prowl's shoulder, pressing painfully on his door hinges. "No. It hasn't been that long-" It was the wrong thing to say as Sideswipe kicked Prowl away.

"You're not denying it?" Sideswipe's voice rose, making Prowl's audio receptors ring.

Prowl shut off the pain receptors in his shoulders and ignored the dull ach that left. He pushed himself to his feet, finding himself face to face with the irate twin.

"No, I'm not." Fury blazed in those blue optics. "But if you will just listen…" Prowl never knew what hit him.

He gazed up at the lights in his room, wondering how he ended up on the floor against the wall, until they were blocked by a looming figure. Optics burned from a silver face. He shook, Prowl realized. He was furious and, yet, still holding back.

"Sideswipe," Prowl put as much authority as he could muster into his words. He didn't like to do it when they met, but if someone else walked in right now, he'd have no reasonable explanation for what was happening. "Get out before someone comes." Prowl rolled over and dragged himself upright.

"What the slag does that matter? Everyone knows it's you and Jazz." A pile driver landed dangerously close to Prowl's knee. "What the frag does Sideswipe matter?"

Prowl glared at his lover. He clawed his way up the wall and to his feet. "Don't talk like that."

"And why in the Pits not?" The warrior leaned closer.

"You're not listening, Sideswipe. Go cool your processor and come back when you're willing to listen like a civilized mech." Prowl narrowed his optics at the red twin, taking an unsteady step forward to meet Sideswipe's glower.

Sideswipe leaned away to set his feet apart and cross his arms over his chest. "I ain't goin' anywhere, Prowlie."

White hands balled into fists. "If you don't leave, then I will. You'd better not be here when I return, either." The tactician put action to words, and headed for the door. Two steps away and Sideswipe's voice stopped him mid-step.

"You go through that door and it's over, Prowl."

Every system seized in Prowl's frame. "You're willing to throw away almost thirty thousand vorn because of nine years?" He stared limply at the twin's back.

Sideswipe stood, resolutely facing the wall. "You lied to me, Prowl. You used me. How in the Inferno is that supposed to make me feel?"

Prowl opened his mouth to object, and then clamped it shut. He scowled at the red mech. "When you're ready to talk, you know what to do." Prowl stared at the door, gathering the strength for those last few steps.

"I'm serious, Prowl."

Sideswipe wasn't making this easy on the tactician. "Well, I'm not giving up on you as quickly as you have on me." Motors activated and the door opened.

Then it closed.

Prowl stared at the orange doors, a hollowness filling him where once there'd been such joy. "I'm sorry," he muttered, aware of the futility of his actions. He passed a hand over his face and leaned his chevron against the door. Then he turned and walked away from his quarters and the warrior within.


Prowl quietly worked on his own arm, hunkered down amidst a stack of crates in one of the storage areas. He should have probably seen Ratchet about the damage to his gears, but that would have invited too many unwanted questions. Questions Prowl didn't have an answer for yet. His cortex churned with confusion that prevented him from thinking clearly. He had to think clearly, he had to come up with a solution.

Damn that slagging saboteur.

It was all his fault.

Black hands reached from behind and plucked the tool out of Prowl's fingers. The tactician looked up and the small spark of hope died at the visored face. Jazz worked on Prowl's arm quietly for a few moments before he spoke.

"How can y' stand there an' let him do this t' ya."

Prowl ground his dental plates. "Why?" The tactician winced as Jazz pressed on a sensitive circuit.

"Don't be like that, Prowlie. I'm jus' worried 'bout ya. We both know the twins are violent mechs. What can ya expect?"

"For you to mind your own business." Prowl reached for the repair kit, but Jazz slid it out of the Datsun's reach.

Prowl leveled a glare at the Porsche and rocked himself to his feet, catching his balance with a hand on a nearby crate.

Jazz swept up behind him, holding him steady with a steel grip on his waist. "I ain't done fixing your arm yet, Prowlie."

"I don't want your help , Jazz."

"Ya don't have ta ask fer help, Prowl." Jazz pulled the tactician closer, hugging his torso. "It's what Autobots do."

Prowl threw his head back and laughed. Dry and mirthless, he sank to his knees, pulling Jazz with him. He shook with more than laughter. His fuel tanks churned threatening to purge. Jazz's words made him nauseous, and sent his logic circuits ablaze in confusion.

"It's what," he managed between fits of giggles, "Autobots do."

Fingers turned him to look at a concerned face.

"…What… Autobots… do…"


Sideswipe couldn't help himself. He followed, keeping his distance as Ratchet reamed Jazz up and down for whatever foolish thing he'd done to freeze Prowl's computer. Ratchet carried on the tirade until the doors to the medbay closed between him and the saboteur. Even through the trilythium steel doors his voice rang through, showing the extent of his ire.

He wondered what Ratchet would say when he categorized the full scope of Prowl's damage.

He hadn't been gentle. He knew without seeing the Datsun. His fingers remembered the way Prowl's arms dented. He could still feel Prowl's jaw on his knuckles. He shifted his feet, trying to shake off the sense of stepping on his lover. He hadn't been gentle, even though he had restrained himself. Even though he'd never wanted to hurt him What a reminder that he was Sunstreaker's brother.

Jazz turned to the red twin and he tilted his head, glowering. "Man, it looks like he got sideswiped, don't it?"

Sideswipe narrowed his optics. "Oh ha, ha very funny. I thought he looked a little jazzed out, personally." The warrior leaned his shoulder against the wall. His lips curved into the imitation of a smile. "I hear you and Prowl have been together for nine years now." The pseudo smile disappeared. "Congratulations on hiding it so well."

Jazz shrugged, a smile of his own gracing his lips. "Yeah, well ya don' thing yer th' only one good at hidin' things are ya? Prowl's picked up some pretty bad habits from all that time he's spent watchin' yer every move."

The warrior clenched his fists. "If you hurt him…"

Jazz nodded toward the closed med bay doors. "Can't hurt him any worse than he already is, can I?"

"The slagsucker deserved it." Slaggit, now he was even sounding like Sunstreaker.

"Yeah, well the humans have a saying. 'When y' play with fire, y'can only get burnt." Jazz huffed a laugh. "Or somethin' like that. Looks like Prowlie got burned big time, by a very crimson flame, I'd say.

Sideswipe snapped a hand out, snatching at the saboteur. But Jazz was fast. The Porsche faced the Lamborghini a few steps away from where he stood before, still smiling that same damned knowing smirk.

"Now Siders, that ain't very proper of ya, lashing out at an officer, now is it?"

Sideswipe curled his lips into a sneer. The red warrior stepped toward the black and white mech. "Lash out? Why Jazz, whatever do you mean?" He glared at Jazz from under his helmet. "I'm just trying to give you a hug to congratulate you for getting your spark's desire. "

Jazz danced out of Sideswipe's reach again. "Aw, thanks, Siders. I appreciate the sentiment, but duty calls. Don't want to be late, y'know. I got big plans for Prowl an' me." His grin broadened. "Big plans. 'Specially since he won't be needin' to sneak outta the Ark to escape his duties. Am I right?"

Sideswipe lunged for the saboteur, but the damnable mech kept slipping out of his grasp. Damn Jazz. Damn him for figuring things out too slagging easily. Damn Prowl, too. Damn him. Damn him! Damn him!

Jazz slid around the corner and disappeared as easily as Mirage.

Sideswipe shoved a fist into the wall, hissing static out from his vocalizer. Damn himself, he couldn't hate Prowl.


Author's notes 2: I know. I know. It's threatening to split again too.