"-and here's the report on energon usage by the troops in Altihex, and here's the request from Ovacalix for-"
"That will do, Jazz." Optimus spoke over his Third in Command, "You look exhausted. Perhaps you should rest a while."
"Ah'm fine." The saboteur yawned unconvincingly. "Ah just.."
"Leave the datapads with me, and I will read through them myself. You go and catch some recharge."
It didn't take too much convincing; Jazz nodded and tottered away, barely managing to stay on his feet.
Just before he left the doorway, Optimus called to him, "Jazz?"
"Mm?"
"Have you packed for Praxus?"
"Yep. Ah'll be ready t' go in the mornin'."
"Good. Check in with Ratchet; he wishes to accompany you on your trip."
Another nod, and Jazz bowed out of the room, making his way straight to the medbay.
It was late, so there was no one but Ratchet in the medbay. The CMO was in the back, packing away his best wrenches into a travel box. He glanced up at the sound of the door sliding open, and nodded his greetings at the saboteur. "You know the drill."
"Yeah." With a sigh, Jazz heaved himself up on one of the medical berths. "So.. Ya comin' with meh tomorrow?"
"Yes. I don't trust you to take proper care of yourself."
"Oh, thanks." Jazz said sarcastically, rolling his optics beneath his visor. As the medic pulled out his scanner and looked him over, Jazz began drumming his fingers against his legs. "Ah'm tired."
"This won't take long. Here, fuel up." Ratchet handed the sparked mech a cube of energon. "While we're in Praxus, try and get Prowl to frag you. You really do need a transfluid donation."
Deciding that silence was the best answer, Jazz said nothing.
They both remained quiet until the examination was over and done with.
"Alright. You can go."
"Thanks." Jazz slid off the med berth and hesitated. "Um... So.."
"Everything is fine." The CMO answered the unasked question. He offered the carrying mech a small smile. "You're carrying a perfectly healthy sparkling."
"And, um.. is it a mech..?"
Ratchet paused, eyeing him carefully. "Are you sure you don't want to wait until you're with Prowl to know this?"
"Well, no. OP already mentioned... that it might be a mech.. I just wanted to confirm medically, y'know?"
"Hmph." Ratchet snorted, rolling his optics. "Well, I can confirm that it's a mech. Congratulations."
...
"You okay?"
"I'm fine." Jazz said testily, glaring out the window of the transport shuttle. His fingers tapped impatiently against his protruding abdomen. "When's this stupid thing landin'?"
"We're nearly there. Prowl said he was going to meet us in the landing hangar."
Jazz didn't answer, resuming his glare out the window. "Ah hate shuttles. Make me feel claustrophobic."
"Keep yourself calm. The sparkling can feel everything you do."
"Awkward." The saboteur muttered to himself. He jumped as the shuttle made a strange noise, and shot a panicked look at the medic seated across from him.
"We're coming in to land, that's all. Don't panic."
Forcing himself to relax, Jazz nodded. "Right. We'll be on solid ground in a few minutes, right?"
"Right."
Deep, calming ventilations. He had to stay calm. They were landing. They were safe.
The shuttle touched the ground, and Jazz yelped loudly at the collision. He ignored the roll of Ratchet's optics in favour of acting casual and wiping imaginary dust off himself. "Ahem. Can we get off now?"
"I think we'd better."
Taking off his safety belt, Jazz stood and followed the old medic to the now-open door of the shuttle. Peering over a white shoulder, he caught sight of Prowl talking to one of the shuttle pilots.
"Nervous?"
Jazz jerked away from the older mech and gave him a withering look. "Nervous about what?"
"Prowl."
Amazing how one simple name could cause such strange feelings to flutter in his spark. Jazz played casual again. "What 'bout him?"
"First time you've seen him in person since he found out you're carrying his sparklet. That must be a bit strange."
The saboteur shifted his weight to his other leg, wincing at his pained ankles. "Whatever. Ah just wanna sit down somewhere."
"Hmm. I'm sure Prowl has got suitable accommodation for us."
"Ah dunno." Jazz eyed up the compound before him suspiciously. "It looks.. it looks pretty small..."
Ratchet shrugged and began trudging down the steps off the shuttle. Halfway down he paused and glanced back at Jazz, who hadn't moved. "Are you coming?"
There was a long pause, where Jazz scratched the back of his helm sheepishly. "Ah don't know if Ah'm gonna be able t' make it down the stairs."
The medic sighed, and glanced around. His optics fell on a large bot near the bottom of the steps, obviously a guard. "Hey, you! Come here!"
"Oh Primus, Ratch! No, no, no, no, Ah'll be fine!" Jazz said hurriedly, moving to start his way down the steps by himself.
"Do not move!" Ratchet snapped, pointing sternly at the carrying mech as the guard hurried up the stairs towards them. Turning towards the big mech, he said "What's your name?"
"Deadlight." The big mech said, nodding in greeting. His voice was deep, and his armour was shiny. His faceplate was pretty good looking, too. Jazz shifted slightly, eyeing Deadlight up. So maybe being carried down the steps by this guy wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
"Will you carry him down, please? He's in no state to be walking down these steps by himself."
Seeming surprised for a moment, he recovered quickly and nodded. "Sure." Deadlight stepped forward and held his arms out awkwardly.
It was a struggle not to roll his optics, but Jazz allowed himself to be scooped into a bridal hold. He shifted a little in Deadlight's arms to get comfortable, before relaxing. "Um.. Hi there."
"Hello." Deadlight's lips twitched up as he started down the stairs. "Congratulations on your sparkling."
"Oh, thank you." Jazz smiled contentedly to himself. "It was an accident."
"...oh."
"Did I just make this awkward?"
"Slightly." A small laugh escaped Deadlight's vocaliser, and he shifted Jazz in his arms as he took another step.
"You're massive." The saboteur commented casually, poking the big mech's strong arms.
Deadlight laughed. "I'm big in other places too." He winked playfully at the smaller mech in his arms as he neared the bottom of the steps. "Maybe you'd like to find that out for yourself sometime."
Ratchet glared over his shoulder at the both of them. "He is sparked. I hardly think that is appropriate to say to him, especially considering how close the sire is. He might tear you apart."
Guilty all of a sudden, Deadlight shrugged sheepishly. "Oh, sorry. So.. Um.. Who's the sire?" He asked awkwardly as he stepped down off the stairs and went to stand by Ratchet.
"He is." Jazz calmly pointed to Prowl, who had finished talking to the shuttle pilot and was now approaching them.
The energon visibly drained from Deadlight's faceplates. "Primus. I just hit on Prowl's bondmate."
Before Jazz could protest that he wasn't bonded to Prowl, the SIC stopped right in front of them and turned his narrowed optics on Deadlight. "I believe you can put him down now."
"Oh, right. Yeah." The big mech almost threw Jazz on the ground in his hurry to put him down.
"Be careful!" Both Ratchet and Prowl snapped simultaneously, both reaching at the same time to catch Jazz before he fell.
"Ah'm fine." The smaller mech waved a hand airily as he steadied himself.
"You are dismissed." Prowl directed at Deadlight. Once the large mech was out of sight, he cleared his vocaliser and turned back to the two new arrivals. "Ah... Was your journey satisfactory?"
"Don't try to make small talk." Ratchet advised, pushing passed him and making his way to the first corridor he saw. "I presume this is the way to the medical bay?"
"Correct." Prowl murmured, following the medic. Jazz trailed behind them both. "The other medics are expecting your arrival."
"Excellent. Jazz will be staying with you, right?"
A barely noticeable pause later, Prowl nodded. "He will be, yes."
"Good, good. He needs transfluid for the sparkling, so give him as much as you can without tiring him out. Mind his bump; don't crush the sparkling."
"Ratchet!" Jazz complained, scowling at the medic.
"Hush, you." Ratchet scolded. "You got yourself into this situation. I'm just trying to help."
"I am sure I will be able to work it out, Ratchet." Prowl looked absolutely mortified. "I will show you to the medical bay and your quarters, and then I shall show Jazz to my quarters, and then I will return to work."
"No need to show me where the medbay is; I know where I'm going." The medic waved a hard dismissively. He pointed down the corridor with the same hand. "I'll be on my way then. You just show Jazz where he's staying, and make sure he's comfortable. Oh, and make sure he comes to me to be checked on later. If he feels anything wrong, carry him to me at once. Don't let him walk. I'll see you two later."
Once Ratchet had wandered down the corridor and turned the corner, Prowl turned back to Jazz and cleared his vocaliser. "Ahem. So... How have you been doing?"
The saboteur's attention had wandered as Ratchet had been talking with Prowl, but he snapped back to attention immediately. "Hm? Oh. Ah'm fine. Bit uncomfortable, but.. Yeah."
Prowl nodded, and they both fell into an awkward silence. After a long moment, he gestured down the corridor. "Shall we go?"
"Yeah. Yeah, 'kay." Jazz nodded quickly and followed the taller mech down the hall.
The unfamiliar corridors all looked the same, but Jazz made an effort to commit the route to Prowl's quarters to memory anyway.
They both slowed as they reached Prowl's door; the tactician keyed in his code quickly, and allowed Jazz to step in first before following him in. The saboteur looked around the room; it was completely plain. Almost identical to his room back in Iacon.
"The berth is over here." Prowl led the smaller mech to the back of the room and gestured at the berth. "Ah... Will it be okay for you?"
"Yeah, it's fine." Jazz sat on the edge and glanced up at the tactician almost shyly. "But, um.. Ah'm gettin' kinda big... It could be a squeeze for the both o' us."
"I will be recharging on the couch."
The blue visor brightened in surprise. "Wha'? Ah didn't come all the way t' Praxus just t' sleep alone, mech."
"Why did you come to Praxus?" Prowl tilted his helm curiously. "Prime never quite made that clear."
Jazz lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug. "Ah wanted t' see ya. Ah thought we should talk. Ah mean, in person instead o' through a screen."
"I see."
"Y'know, 'cause we're havin' a sparklin' together. And that's kinda a big deal."
"It is, yes."
They both fell silent again.
After a moment, Prowl settled beside Jazz on the berth. His optics settled on the smaller mech's hugely distended belly. "May I..?"
"Sure."
Slowly, Prowl placed his hand over the bump. His thumb rubbed little circles over the stretched protoform, and Jazz sighed at the feeling. "You are getting big."
"Yeah, everyone says that." The saboteur sighed again, allowing his frame to relax.
"You must be getting extremely uncomfortable."
"Kinda."
"Hm." Obviously about to speak again, Prowl opened his mouth, only to freeze as he felt a nudge by his hand. He glanced down to Jazz's belly and raised an optic ridge. "Was that-?"
"That was the little guy sayin' hi." Jazz smiled slightly as the tactician leaned down and rested his face beside his bump. "He missed you."
A flash of guilt and sorrow crossed over the Praxian's face. "I cannot believe I missed so much of his gestation while I was being such an aft."
Jazz tentatively ran his hand over Prowl's helm, content when he wasn't pushed away. "Just make sure ya don't miss anymore o' his life."
"Yes..." Prowl murmured. Then, surprising Jazz, he pressed a kiss to the bump, before sitting back upright. "I will have to return to work.."
"Not yet though." The saboteur clasped at Prowl's hands. "Stay with meh a li'l longer?"
After a brief pause, the Praxian nodded and relaxed back again. "Yes. I suppose the students won't be attending their lecture until later, anyway. I might as well- umf!" His words were cut off as his mouth was enveloped in a kiss.
Shifting on the berth, Jazz managed to straddle the taller mech's thighs without breaking the kiss. "Missed ya.. while ya.. were.. bein' an aft.." He murmured in between kisses. It was rather difficult to manoeuvre the kiss around his huge abdomen, but they managed.
"I am sorry." Prowl murmured, trailing little kisses along Jazz's jawline and neck. "Allow me to make it up to you. Please?"
"Yes.." The saboteur whimpered, stretching his neck back to allow better access. He gasped as little nips were delivered to the sensitive areas along his cabling. "Make it up t' meh..."
A little growl escaped Prowl's engine, and he gently picked Jazz up and laid him out on his back. Mindful of the gestation bump, he kissed all down Jazz's body, kissed his interface panel, and then kissed all the way back up to his mouth.
"Tease." Jazz giggled, slipping his glossa into the kiss.
"Hypocrite." The tactician shot back, groaning quietly as Jazz began grinding his hips against Prowl's interface panel. "Primus..."
"Please... C'mon, Prowl.." Jazz whimpered, and his interface panel snapped back, baring his valve. Pearly drops of lubricant were leaking out already, despite the fact they had hardly done anything yet.
Slipping two fingers into the bared valve, Prowl scissored gently, enjoying the gasp of pleasure his ministrations earned. "Is this okay?"
"Mmm... More... Please.." Jazz pleaded with a moan, tilting his hips up to try and get more friction.
Allowing himself a small smile, Prowl added another finger, and began thrusting. He curled his fingers, stroking a sensitive node at the roof of the valve.
"Yes! There!" Jazz bucked into the touch, hands flying up to clutch at Prowl's shoulders. "Ah want yo' spike, please!"
Almost as if obeying Jazz's request, Prowl's interface panel slid open and his spike pressurised of its own accord. Catching sight of the spike, Jazz wriggled his hips eagerly and spread his legs wider. The taller mech felt another flash of arousal at the sight: and he felt his spike harden further. Pressing forward, the top of his spike nudged into the rim of Jazz's valve.
"More." The saboteur demanded, wrapping his legs around Prowl's waist and arching his back, belly pushing up into the air.
Prowl pressed forwards, his spike slowly stretching the mesh of Jazz's valve. The smaller mech groaned, relishing the pleasurable burn as he was stretched. The tactician pressed a gentle kiss to Jazz's protruding abdomen as he gave the first shallow thrust.
"Primus." Jazz gasped, nodding emphatically. "Yeah.. Faster."
The Praxian's doorwings flared widely as he thrust again, moaning at the tightness of the smaller mech. "You... feel amazing.."
A grin stretched across Jazz's face at the compliment. "Thanks. If you're close, just let go and overload in meh."
"No." Prowl grunted, frowning. "You first."
About to argue, Jazz was cut off by a particularly hard thrust to a sensitive bundle of nodes near the back of his valve. "Primus! Do that again!"
The tactician did as he was told, relishing in the sounds he was eliciting from the saboteur. He leaned down, still mindful of the largely distended belly, and licked at a single audio horn. Jazz moaned wantonly, bucking his hips and tossing his head in an effort to get closer to all the sensations at once. All of his sensors felt horribly over-sensitised, and he could feel his overload approaching fast, like a train with no brakes. Prowl found himself fast approaching overload, too; it was the mere sight of Jazz in pleasure, he realised. He got off on it.
"Oh, Primus, yes! Yes! Ah'm.. Ah'm.." Jazz felt his eloquence leaving him as his charge built up and up, spiralling higher and higher, until with one last thrust from Prowl, it crashed down over him. He shrieked, his valve walls clenching in overload as his vision whited out.
Prowl gave another few thrusts before groaning as his own overload hit, and he gasped as his transfluid flooded Jazz's valve. Slumping down over Jazz, he sighed tiredly. "Okay?"
"Yeah." The smaller mech managed to say, vents working hard to try and cool down his overheated systems. "That was... good." Good seemed like such a weak term. It was over almost embarrassingly fast for the both of them; Jazz could blame his carrying protocols for hurrying up his overload simply to get the transfluid, but Prowl had no excuse. It was clear he hadn't been with anyone for a while. Probably since Jazz.
Nodding, Prowl pulled out, apologising when Jazz gasped. Small rivulets of luminescent transfluid and lubricant dribbled out, and Prowl quickly got an old cleaning cloth and wiped away the mess. He did the same to himself, before tucking his spike back into his housing.
The whole time, Jazz simply lay strutlessly, smiling contentedly at the ceiling. After a moment, he held a hand out to Prowl. "Come lie with meh?"
A brief hesitation, but Prowl nodded and eased himself onto the berth next to the saboteur. Still smiling, Jazz cuddled closer to the taller mech, laying his helm on Prowl's shoulder. Absentmindedly running his long fingers along Jazz's backstruts, Prowl said, "I hope you won't mind staying here while I finish up my business. Praxus is a nice city, and I shouldn't be much longer."
"It's fine." Jazz murmured, "Ah don't think Ah'll mind it here at all. Deadlight was the first person to flirt with meh in ages." A laugh bubbled out of his vocaliser. "Ah think it'll be fine."
The tactician had pursed his lips, and was now frowning. "He was flirting with you?"
"Yup. Quite badly, too."
"I will have a word with him."
"Nah, it's fine. Good for mah self-esteem."
"What is wrong with your self-esteem?"
"Nothin's wrong with it, Ah just don't feel great about mahself right now." Shrugging, Jazz stretched out his legs. "Ah mean, look at meh. Ah'm absolutely enormous, mah frame is completely outta shape 'cause o' the sparklin'."
Prowl managed to look guilty. "I am sorry. This is my fault." He ignored Jazz's attempt to argue that point and spoke over him. "But I can assure you, you are still beautiful."
He had expected a snort, or a cutting remark, but he got neither. Instead, he watched in surprise as Jazz leaned up and kissed his cheekplate. For some reason, that one little chaste kiss seemed ten times more intimate than their quick interface. "Thank you." The saboteur whispered, avoiding his gaze.
"You are quite welcome." Prowl murmured, leaning down and pulling the smaller mech into a proper kiss. He could feel Jazz melt against his chassis, and wrapped an arm around his waist. They were both careful not to crush the bump; it was pressing into Prowl's abdomen.
Just as Jazz had slipped his glossa into the taller mech's mouth, Prowl jerked back and stared down at him in surprise. The saboteur frowned. "What?"
"Did- I just felt the sparkling kick." He was staring down at Jazz's distended gestation chamber in wonder. Wordlessly, he slid back so the bump was pressing against his abdomen again. "Will you kick again, sweetspark?" Prowl cooed softly, stroking the sensitive protoform around the bulge.
Remaining silent, Jazz stared in surprise as the cold, tough tactician began cooing at his gestation bump. He couldn't help the smile stretching across his face. A kick from the sparkling turned the smile into a grimace, but the excited noise from Prowl brought another smile to his face. "He moves around a lot."
"Does he?" The Praxian was beaming as he stroked all around the gestation bump. "That is good; a sign of a healthy, active sparkling. Have.. have you considered any names for him?"
"No.." Jazz admitted, shifting on his back. "Ah was plannin' on givin' it up. Ah figured namin' it would make it harder t' give away."
"You can name it now."
There was a brief silence as Jazz considered. "Namin' things is hard."
"It is not a thing, it's our sparkling."
"Hm." The saboteur just shrugged. "We don't really need t' name it though, do we?"
"Wh-? Of course we do!"
"What 'bout Nameless? That's a good name."
"No it is not. That is barely a name."
"What 'bout Nobody?"
"Alright, you will not be naming the child."
With a laugh, Jazz stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "Whatever. We should go see Ratchet now."
"If you wish." The taller mech stood up and pulled Jazz to his feet. He fussed for a moment, making sure the carrying mech felt no discomfort.
"Ah'm fine!" Jazz insisted, smacking the Praxian's hands away. "Primus. Can we just go?"
"Yes, of course." Prowl nodded and moved to the door, followed by the shorter mech.
"Oh, Prowl?"
"Yes-?" The tactician turned around, just in time for a fist to collide with his face. "Frag!"
Jazz took a step back and shook his hand, wincing. "That was for bein' an aft."
Drawing a pained and shaky breath, Prowl nodded as he held his nasal ridge with his hand. Energon dripped through his fingers as he nodded. "Yes, I deserved that."
"Yeah, y'did." Flexing his hand, Jazz moved towards the door and stepped out into the hall, glancing back at Prowl. "You comin'?"
"Certainly." Prowl murmured, still holding his hand to his face as he followed the smaller mech down the corridor.
It took no more than two minutes for Jazz to realise that he had no idea where he was going, and he stepped back to allow Prowl to take the lead.
They arrived at the medbay, and the tactician moved to the side to allow Jazz to enter first. "Ratchet?" He called uncertainly, looking around the unfamiliar medics for the white and red mech.
"What?" Ratchet's grumpy voice called out as he emerged from one of the back rooms. He paused and raised an optic ridge when he caught sight of the state of Prowl's face. "Had a little domestic argument already, have you? Show me your face. Jazz, you sit down."
"Yes, sir." The saboteur said mockingly, plopping himself down on one of the medical berths as Ratchet looked over the tactician.
"Primus, that's a clean break of your nasal ridge. How did that happen?"
Prowl didn't answer.
"A clean break?" Jazz asked curiously, leaning forward. "So it was a good punch?"
"Ah." Ratchet sighed in realisation. "May I ask what you were arguing about? You couldn't have broken his nasal ridge over just anything."
"We weren't arguin'."
Ratchet paused in confusion, before clearly deciding he was better off not knowing. Turning, he called, "Tourniquet? Go get the dissolvable stitches and take care of Prowl, would you?" They watched as a green and pink Praxian femme nodded and disappeared into the back room.
"Thank you." Prowl murmured, watching Ratchet follow the femme into the back room. When the medic was out of sight, he turned around and hesitated in front of Jazz. The saboteur shrugged and shuffled to the side to give Prowl room to sit down. The Praxian nodded in thanks and sat next to him.
"You did deserve that punch, ya know." Jazz said suddenly, reaching up and wiping away some of the energon around Prowl's nasal ridge.
Wincing as the smaller mech accidentally (or on purpose - there was no telling with Jazz) brushed off his broken nasal ridge, Prowl sighed and nodded. "I am aware. In fact, I deserve worse."
"Well, Ah ain't a sadist. A broken nasal ridge is as far as Ah'm gonna go, unless ya do somethin' stupid again." Jazz muttered as he wiped at the congealed energon. "Huh. Gonna need t' get a moist cloth t' get the rest o' the energon off."
The tactician nodded, just noticing Tourniquet return from the back room. She set down the box of dissolvable stitches and smiled as examined Prowl's face carefully. "Oh dear, Prowl. How did this happen?" When she didn't get an answer, she continued. "Well, it's not as bad as it could have been. Whoever you were arguing with took careful care not to cause any damage that might have a lasting effect. With the stitches, you'll heal up in about an hour."
"Good." Was all the Praxian said, and the femme took this as an invitation to start setting the nasal ridge back in place.
"Jazz?"
Looking up at the sound of his name, Jazz saw Ratchet motioning for him to go over to him. The saboteur hesitated, glancing at Prowl. The Praxian was wincing in pain as the femme medic fixed up his face.
"Jazz, I don't have all day. Come on."
"Alright, fine." Jazz muttered sulkily, sliding of the berth awkwardly due to his size.
"I will be over in a moment." Prowl managed to say through gritted denta.
Perking up a bit at that, the saboteur nodded and waddled over to where Ratchet was waiting at a medical machine. "What... what is that?"
"Do you want to see your sparkling?"
Jazz froze, optics wide as he stared at the machine. "Ah could.. Ah could see him?"
"Well, a scan of him. Do you want to?"
"Yes." The answer came out without thinking, but Jazz didn't take it back.
"Alright, lie down there then." Ratchet muttered, pointing to the medical berth beside him. "This'll take a minute or two to set up. I haven't seen one of these in years... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised Praxus has all of the equipment for sparklings and carriers, given that it's a neutral city state..."
Having tuned out, Jazz began staring over at Prowl and Tourniquet. He didn't like the way she was pressing against him like that. And Prowl seemed to be as oblivious as ever, which only seemed to encourage her. Jazz watched as she giggled at something the Praxian had said, and ran her hand gently over his arm as she applied the dissolvable stitches. Her petite doorwings fluttered flirtatiously, and Jazz found himself clenching his fists and glaring.
Noticing the change in his patient's manner, Ratchet curiously followed his gaze. His optic ridges rose when he saw what was setting Jazz on edge. "I wouldn't worry about her. Apparently she's been flirting with him every chance she's got, he hasn't noticed a thing. The other medics told me they've had bets on for how long it'll take her to give up. Same goes for Hightail, I'm told."
"What's t' stop him from goin' off with her though?"
"You." Ratchet answered, looking like that answer was the most obvious thing ever.
"Me? Look at me compared t' her. And we ain't bonded. Once this sparklin's born, Prowl could take off with no problem. He could go off wit' her, or Hightail, or some other good-lookin' bot with a great body."
"Jazz-" Ratchet cut himself off and shook his helm. "If that were the case, Prowl could have had Hightail in his berth a long time ago. He didn't, because he wanted you. Even when he didn't know about the sparkling."
Jazz remained decidedly quiet as Ratchet finished setting up the machine. When the medic turned around and set what looked like an x-ray over his swollen abdomen, he spoke up again. "D'you think he likes meh?"
Unable to help the laugh that burst out of his vocaliser, Ratchet finished preparing the scan and began tapping at the machine. "I think you should ask him that yourself. He's coming over now."
Startled, Jazz went to look up, only for Ratchet to push down on his chassis, snapping at him to stay still and lie down. Grudgingly doing as he was told, Jazz stayed still until Prowl walked into his line of sight. "Get fixed up?"
"I did." Barely visible stitches lined the edges of his nasal ridge, and the congealed energon had been wiped away. "Tourniquet did a good job."
A scowl briefly crossed Jazz's face, before it disappeared again. "Ratch said we could see the sparklin'."
"Yes." Ratchet interrupted. "This is a deep scan; it scans through several layers of protective protoform and into the gestation chamber. It uses magnetic pulses and soundwaves to form a picture of the sparkling's protoform, so the image will be a bit blurry."
A sudden burst of nerves shot through him, and Jazz found himself grabbing at Prowl's hand and clutching it to him. He nodded to show he was ready, and glanced up at Prowl. The tactician gave him a very small smile, and squeezed his hand reassuringly.
"Alright, here we go." Ratchet murmured as he initiated the scan.
The monitor flickered to life, and slowly formed a picture on-screen. Jazz clutched at the white hand in his grip even harder as the outline of the sparkling came into view. "Is that him?"
"It is."
The image was blurry and had no colour, but it was enough to see that the body was all curled up into itself, except for his little winglets, which fluttered lightly. The sparkling shifted slightly, as though he was aware he was being watched.
"He's so tiny." Jazz said, awed. "Why'm Ah so huge?"
"The doorwings." Prowl murmured, gazing at the monitor with much the same expression as Jazz. "He has a Praxian frame."
"Yeah.." A grin spread over Jazz's face as he gazed at his creation on the screen. "Look at the li'l cutie."
They stayed there until they lost track of time, just staring at the sparkling on-screen and enthusing over every little move he made.
Finally, Ratchet stepped forwards again and shrugged apologetically at them. "I'm afraid I have to turn the machine off before it overheats. It's not meant to be on for so long."
Disappointed, Jazz nodded and turned to look at Prowl as Ratchet freed him from the scanner. He realised he was still clutching at his hand and let go quickly. "So.. what did ya think?"
"I think that was wonderful." Prowl smiled fondly at the smaller mech's hugely distended torso. "We'll be able to see him in person soon enough."
"There we go." Ratchet grunted as he helped Jazz off the berth. He turned to address Prowl. "Take him back to your quarters and make sure he rests. Have you fragged him yet?"
Cringing internally at the crass language, Prowl simply nodded.
"Good. He doesn't need the extra additives in his energon then. Just normal mid-grade energon will do. Look after him!"
"Of course." Prowl murmured, nodding as he escorted Jazz to the door.
The smaller mech said nothing as they made their way down the corridor, simply gazing down at his gestation bump curiously. He stayed silent until they reached Prowl's quarters.
The Praxian's doorwings were the most relaxed Jazz had seen them in a long time, and he couldn't help running his hands over them and dipping his fingers into the seams.
Prowl sighed in contentment and fluttered his wings as he typed in the code for his door. The doors slid open and he stepped back to allow Jazz entrance first.
The carrying mech waddled in and made a beeline directly for the berth. "Ugh, Ah'm so tired." He exclaimed as he flopped down on the berth.
"I will get you your energon."
Jazz peered at Prowl as he hurried around the room, preparing the saboteur's energon. "What're ya doin'?"
"Heating your energon."
"Heatin' it? Why?"
"To make it taste better. Try it." Sitting on the edge of the berth, Prowl held out the cube.
Taking it and eyeing it curiously, Jazz hesitantly sipped at it. "Oh. It's good." He said in surprise, before draining the whole cube.
Smiling at the eagerness with which the cube was drank, Prowl took the empty cube and placed it on the berthside table, before stretching his wings out and lying down next to Jazz. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." The saboteur smiled, before leaning forwards and gently kissing the injured nasal ridge. "Ah'm sorry Ah had t' do that."
"No, don't be." Prowl murmured, "I did deserve it, like you said. You should rest now."
"Mmm.." Just as Jazz was relaxing into the berth, a knock came to the door and he groaned. "Seriously?"
"I will get it." The Praxian got to his pedes quickly and strode over to the door. As the door slid open, his wings flared out over his back to show his displeasure at being interrupted. "What is it?"
Curious as to who was at the door, Jazz sat up in the berth and craned his neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse.
"Sorry, but you weren't at your office, and I thought something was wrong-" Hightail's voice.
Jazz almost snorted; Prowl had forgotten to go back to work. That had to be a first.
"Nothing is wrong. I have things to do right now. My shift is over now and will not resume until tomorrow."
"I know, but you never finish work when your shift is over."
"Well, I am tonight. Goodbye, Hightail."
"Wait, wait, do you want me to go to the lecture this evening instead?"
A brief pause, then Prowl was nodding. "Yes. Give the professor my apologies and tell him that something came up."
"Okay..? What came up?"
Grinning, Jazz couldn't help but slip off the berth and waddle over to the door. He couldn't miss this chance. Cheerfully appearing behind Prowl's back, he waved at the other tactician. "Hi!"
The blue and purple mech stared at him in blank surprise. "I- what? Jazz?"
"Yup." He tilted his helm and beamed up at him. "How's it goin'?"
"Jazz arrived here a little while ago with Ratchet." Prowl answered the unasked question, frowning disapprovingly at Jazz's actions.
"Oh. Why is he in your quarters?"
"He shall be staying with me for the duration of his visit."
"Why? There's loads of room around the place. Nightline has loads of space in his quarters, I remember him saying so, and I'm pretty sure there are several empty quarters-"
"Enough, Hightail." Prowl said sternly, frowning at the other mech. "Jazz is the Third in Command, and thus he will be staying with the highest ranking officer."
Reluctantly falling silent, Hightail nodded stiffly. "Fine."
Jazz grinned cheerfully. "Ah'll see ya tomorrow!"
"Goodbye, Hightail." Prowl said firmly, closing the door as Hightail opened his mouth. He turned to the still grinning saboteur and shook his helm. "Your input was unnecessary."
"The look on his face was worth it."
"Go back to the berth." The tactician insisted, practically carrying the shorter mech back to the berth. He pushed at Jazz's chassis to get him to lie down on the berth. "Now recharge."
"Alright, Mr. Bossy." Rolling his optics from beneath his visor, Jazz pulled the taller mech down on the berth next to him. Exhausted, he curled up to the larger Praxian frame and offlined his optics. "Hope your nasal ridge is alright."
"It will be fine."
"Ah'll break it again if ya start actin' like an aft though."
"... I do not doubt it."
