The Things We Do For Love

Chapter 10

Author: Thalanee

Verse: pre-Movie

Word Count: 6200 words (yes, really long chapter)

Rating: pg-17

Warnings: dark chapter, mentions of violence

Disclaimer: Still not mine, sorry.

Summary: As a knight in shiny silver armour you will rescue your true love of course… even if he doesn't really need rescuing, because he already took care of the villain by himself.

Author's Notes: This is as dark as it's ever going to get in one of my stories. Now we get to have a look at Jazz's darker side. Don't worry, no harm will come to our favourite pairing.

I apologize if I didn't get Swindle's personality right (I don't know as much about the 'Cons as I do about the 'Bots), but then again this is an AU- story, so… ;P

I don't know where Blue came from, suddenly he was just there and looking at me with those big blue optics of his, demanding to be in the story with Prowl too…

Speech "…."

Thought '…'

Comm :: …. ::

XXXXX

"You are sure about that?" The large purple optics glowed in anticipation.

"As sure as I can be, boss. They spent nearly an hour on that roof, I mean I couldn't see what was going on, but the silver nuisance really seems to have taken a shine to that enforcer." The other mech shrugged. "At least if the kiss was any indication."

"The kiss?" Purple servos rubbed together, their owner already adjusting his plans to this new tidbit of information. This was getting better and better! "They really kissed?"

"Yes, boss." Leering the informer chuckled. "And the little enforcer looked pretty eager too."

"Splendid. All the arrangements have been made, too?"

"Of course. We can start whenever you want to."

"Excellent. Give the signal to proceed at once, we wouldn't want to lose more money over this little inconvenience than we already have. Time to show my competitor just what he stands to lose." As soon as the henchman had left, Swindle laughed, already congratulating himself on finding the perfect solution to his problem.

When he had first heard about the mech who called himself Failsafe he had been intrigued, especially once the mech had started to hit on the enforcer who had arrested him. To Swindle it had looked like the silver thief was playing games with the enforcers (listening to stories about the silver mechs exploits had soon become something he enjoyed greatly, after all there weren't many mechs who could con their way into an enforcers affection), but the enjoyment had turned sour not long after that.

With unerring accuracy and uncanny sense of timing Failsafe had managed to foil many of Swindle's most lucrative operations. The yellow and purple entrepreneur hadn't liked the disruption at all from a business mech's point of view, but as a con mech he couldn't help but admire his opponent's skills.

Until he made the mistake of falling for the enforcer he had toyed with.

That he had fallen for the black and white was rather obvious to Swindle, what with how besotted Failsafe acted around him, rather like a puppy seeking its master's attention. To be frank Swindle was a tad disgusted that such a talented mech had been brought low, but he hadn't intended to do anything about it at first.

However he had soon realized that the silver mech seemed bent on destroying every part of his precious company. Already information had been leaked to the authorities and several parts of his enterprises had been brought to light, his goods confiscated and employees arrested. Some of the lost business hadn't belonged to him, but to business partners of his, still Failsafe was getting way too close shutting him down permanently.

When his most treasured informant had been arrested, hanging from a lamp post with a full, signed confession, Swindle had at last had enough. The initially slight irritant of losing a few credits had turned into an all out threat to his whole business. Swindle wouldn't stand for that. Fortunately the perfect way of neutralizing said threat had presented itself in the form of Failsafe's love interest. And contrary to Failsafe, who was hiding exceedingly well, Swindle knew exactly where to look for this… Prowl.

XXXXX

It had been a long day at the precinct and Prowl was for once glad his shift had ended, despite almost being in recharge on his pedes he made one last round through the city as he was wont to do every cycle since he had become an enforcer vorns ago. Just like his creators had done.

Some evenings he did come across unwary criminals, catching them in the act and arresting them, but most of the time Praxus remained peaceful, the quiet of the night only broken by the sound of music or couples taking a walk in the starlight.

This evening he was almost home, when his sensitive doorwings picked up sounds from within a darkened alley, muffled and not very loud but still there. He transformed back into bipedal form and listened. Whoever it was sounded frightened- and young. The owner of that voice couldn't be older than a youngling! Rushing soundlessly toward the alley, weapon drawn and at the ready, he found his worst fears confirmed.

Frightful and wide blue optics stared hopefully at Prowl when the struggling grey youngling realized that help had arrived, his pleas for help muffled by a massive hand clamped over his mouth, the mechling's doorwings twitched erratically. Two massive mechs stood in the alley, one of them, his scratched armour a faded blue, holding the youngling and pressing a blaster to his head, the other dirty brown one leering at the enforcer. Both were at least as tall as Barricade and even broader, their whole demeanor screaming street thugs.

"There you are, cutie, we been waiting for you." Prowl's optics narrowed at the declaration, his battle computer giving him several scenarios for the end of this situation, but one thing was clear: this was a setup of some sort.

"I am here now, so let the youngling leave." The black and white was sure he would be able to handle himself well if it came to a fight, but saving the innocent youngling was his first and most important priority.

His adversary scoffed. "Now, we both know you're in no position to make demands here, enforcer." A small whimper escaped the young captive as the gun threatening him was pressed closer to his head. Prowl was barely able to suppress a snarl. There was no way for him to overpower both thugs without endangering the youngling, something Prowl was not prepared to risk in any way, which meant there was only one way for him to ensure the hostage's safety.

He had to stall them until help arrived, but when he tried activating his comms the only thing he received for his efforts was static.

Smirking one of the two thugs held up a device Prowl instantly recognized as a comm. jammer. There would be no help arriving any time soon. "Don't even think about it, cutie, it's just you and us here. No interruptions."

"What do you want?" he pressed out, not moving from the spot.

"Now we're talking." He smiled cruelly. "First things first, cutie, why don't you get rid of your gun?"

Gritting his denta Prowl complied and lowered his weapon, laying it on the floor beside his pedes. Coldly he watched the two mechs, remaining silent and completely calm as he had been trained to.

"Thatta mech." The brown mech strolled over leisurely and kicked the gun farther into the alley, behind his colleague and out of Prowl's reach, then circled around the unmoving black and white form. "You see, our boss wants to have a few words with you, in private. So he wants to invite you over to his place. You gonna come with us quietlike or do we have to get nasty?"

"Let the youngling go and you have my word as an officer of the law that I will come with you." His battle computer let him know what it thought of that plan and its likely outcome, but Prowl had no choice if he wanted to save the youngling. He could only hope the two would keep their word. He had to stifle a shudder when the criminal stopped right behind him. "Might I inquire as to the identity of your boss?"

"Smart one. Clash, let the little pest go, he knows how to keep his mouth shut." Chuckling, the silent green mech complied with the other's order and threw the youngling to the ground. As soon as the little pedes touched the ground, the small bot was up and away without once looking back. Prowl couldn't deny that it hurt to see that, but at least the small one couldn't be harmed now that the real fight was about to start. After all Prowl had never promised to go without a fight.

But before he could put his plan into action, a sharp stab of pain shot through the cables in his neck. He tried turning around to face his opponent, but found he could barely move. His limbs felt ten times heavier than usual and a thick dense fog seemed to drown his consciousness. Another second and he was crumpling to the ground, unable to move or even speak. Rough hands picked him up of the ground and bound his wrists behind his back, before he was thrown over the shoulder of the green mech.

The last thing he heard, before succumbing to unconsciousness, gave him a chill. "Swindle will be pleased to see you and your silver lover, cutie."

His last thoughts however weren't for his own safety or the fact that he knew the name Swindle, but something, or rather someone else. 'Jazz…'

XXXXX

Unaware of what was happening to Prowl Jazz paced in the enforcer's flat. That Prowl wasn't home directly after his shift ended was practically a given, he knew about Prowl's penchant for working overtime and knew that every evening his love would patrol the district one last time. But he had never been this late before.

And he knew Jazz was waiting for him, they had agreed to meet here for another evening with just the two of them and Prowl had been eager to spend time with him. It was strange that he would be so late. He wouldn't be period.

The saboteur's instincts screamed that there was something wrong and he knew better than to ignore them, knowing them to be impossibly accurate. In fact they had never betrayed him before. The thought of Prowl harmed prompted a subtle but significant shift in Jazz's demeanor. A deep growl filled the room, pure menace underlying it, claws flexing with the desire to tear into whatever was threatening his Prowl.

As friendly and outgoing as the silver mech usually was, deep down his programming hid a darker side to the mech, possessive, with no compunctions to eliminate those who threatened what was important to him, deadly, dangerous. All of it was tempered by his social and happy nature, but it was still there, asleep.

Now that inner predator had been awoken and was rearing its head, though Jazz held a tight rein on that part of his programming, he was not above using it to his advantage. He was Special Ops after all.

Not wasting another moment he left the apartment the same way he had entered and slid down the wall of the building, jumping down the last level. Transforming midair he hit the road with his wheels spinning and drove into the night to search along the route Prowl would take during his voluntary evening patrol.

He would find the black and white and woe betide anyone who got in his way.

XXXXX

Prowl awoke to pain.

His processors and neck were still sore from whatever his abductors had used on him, but worse than that was the pain coming from one of his wings. Choking back a whimper, he instinctively tried to lift his hands to relieve the pain by rubbing his chevron, but found he couldn't move them more than a few inches. They were tied to the back of the chair he was sitting in with a set of what on closer inspection appeared to be standard cuffs. That was not a problem though… part of the special training Barricade had insisted on had included how to get out of various kinds of restraints. It wouldn't be easy without tools, but given enough time he could do it.

Still not entirely back to normal the enforcer tried to ignore the dull ache and used the sensors in his doorwings to probe his surroundings, unwilling to let his captors know that he was once again conscious. The rich sensor net was the upside to having unusually sensitive doorwings. However he was also reminded of the downsides again by the sharp throbs of pain his dislocated wing presented him with, hanging from his back in an awkward angle.

There was no one else in the room, no mechs at least, since he couldn't detect any heat signatures. Judging by the air currents and other data, the room he was in was rather large and mostly empty. A slight scent of rust was in the air, which could only mean the building was old and not very well cared for. Opening his optics he found his conclusions verified.

It was indeed an empty warehouse, the only signs of use were crates stacked in the corners of the big room, which definitely were of newer make than the rest of what he saw, and a desk with datapads. There was only one door leading away from the room and it was closed. What windows there were had been barricaded shut and the air-vents were far out of his reach. So the only way out was through that door.

Prowl frowned slightly when his comm. still proved to be disabled. So he was on his own. At least until Jazz arrived. As if on cue, the door opened, but it wasn't Jazz who stepped through as a tiny part of Prowl had hoped no matter how unlikely it was. Outside in a hallway he could see the two mechs from the alley, making way for a third bot.

The tall mech sauntering closer was a strange combination of yellow and purple, wearing a purple visor and a very satisfied grin. "I see our guest has finally awakened."

Prowl didn't answer, regarding the other mech coolly, his face and demeanor perfectly stoic. There was no doubt as to the identity of the mech in front of him. Prowl had read descriptions of him in the file pertaining his creators' deaths, and he had recognized the name. During the time he grew up and the first few vorns as an enforcer he had sneaked into the archives again and again to read over that file, had been obsessed by the idea of capturing him, until Prowl realized with the help of the other enforcers, that if he continued down that path, it would consume him. It had taken time and a lot of effort, but he had made the conscious choice to let it rest until he could actually do something, before it destroyed him, something the doorwinger his creators wouldn't have wanted.

But now the mech stood in front of him and it took him a considerable amount of self control to stay calm.

"Now, is that a way to greet your host?" Swindle shook his head. "How rude."

"As was the manner you delivered your invitation, Swindle." Prowl finally replied, his voice perfectly even.

"Well, I had to be sure you would come. Otherwise how would I get a hold of your elusive silver lover?" Swindle stepped closer and held Prowl's head up with two fingers underneath his chin, inspecting him closely. Prowl didn't even flinch, though for a moment he was sorely tempted to bite Swindle's fingers just to spite the mech. "I have to say, he's got good taste. Too bad you're an enforcer and not one of us entrepreneurs."

"Is that what you see yourself as? Was calling yourself a thief and a smuggler too base for you?" Prowl asked, letting some of his disgust flow into his voice.

"Now, now, we both know I am more than a mere thief and smuggler. I am a mech of business, working my way around the troublesome and unprofitable restrictions mechs with narrow minds have forced on me. And it all went so well." All the while he had paced in front of Prowl, but now he abruptly turned back to the black and white. "Until your lover started to interfere. At first I didn't really mind, his antics were entertaining to watch, especially the way he escaped you enforcers again and again. As an entrepreneur I appreciate such talent when I come across it." The mech shook his head in mock sadness. "But then he started to encroach on my businesses. I have lost quite an amount of credits and some valuable resources thanks to him. And we can't have that, can we?"

He smiled at Prowl, as if waiting for an answer, but he received none, not even the slightest twitch of a doorwing, so he simply continued his monologue. He really seemed to love the sound of his own voice.

"Sadly, he is very hard to find and even harder to hit. Imagine my delight then, when I found out about his attachment to you." There was a fiendish delight visible in Swindle's facial expression, that awakened a deep sense of unease in Prowl. "Now that I have you, sooner or later he will come to me to rescue you and I can take care of this problem… permanently."

XXXXX

Nothing.

There was no sign of Prowl he could find along the route. Some bots had seen him drive by, but only up until a certain point on the map. After that there was nothing. Returning to that point very soon, Jazz started to comb through the alleys leading away from the main street searching for some kind of clue, a black or white scratch of paint, the print of a ped or tyre, anything.

His spark nearly stopped when he found a familiar looking sidearm lying abandoned in one of the darkest alleys. The sight of the lone weapon lying forlornly in the dirt was almost painful to Jazz, knowing what it most likely meant. Ever so carefully he picked it up and cradled it in his hands, it was clearly Prowl's.

His spark constricted, as he held the weapon close, searching the alley for more, snarling when he found scratches of black and white paint on the floor, where Prowl had fallen.

"Are you the one who's friends with the black and white enforcer?"

Jazz head whipped around when he heard the small, hopeful voice from further down. A small dark grey youngling was peaking at him from behind a trash canister. He had the same frame like Prowl, with a few differences, but a similar red chevron, its colour muted by the dirt covering the small one's frame.

"Yes, Ah'm friends wit' Prowl. Ya know where I can find him?" Jazz stayed where he was. The youngling looked frightened enough as it was, if he moved he might bolt.

The grey frame tensed, as the youngling chewed on his lower lip, before everything burst out of him. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, they said not to and they'll be so angry if they find out, but I have to tell you, because he saved me from them when they wanted to hurt me even though he didn't have to, no one's ever done that for me before, and now I'm afraid they're going to hurt him, so I thought have to do something and I was thinking of going to the enforcers, but I don't know if they can help, but they mentioned you, so I decided to wait and see if you came. Maybe you can help, if I tell you…" Trailing off he looked at Jazz expectantly.

"Yeah, Ah will help. What's ya name?" the saboteur coaxed, trying to calm the youngling down.

"I'm Bluestreak. But you can call me Blue if you want to." Bluestreak shuffled his pedes nervously.

Jazz smiled. "Alright Blue, can ya tell me who they were? Do ya know where they were goin'?"

The youngling perked up. "They're Clash and Knockdown, they work for this new mech, the one who came over from Kaon, Swindle he's called, everyone knows to stay away from them because they're trouble and they said something about Swindle wanting to meet the enforcer and his lover, that's you, isn't it? Anyway they hurt him and then they carried him away and they said something about the big warehouse down by the fly-docks, I know the place." He described the warehouse and where to find it. When he was finished he watched Jazz's reaction.

"I love Prowl, alright, and ya really helped me, Blue. There's something I need ya ta do fer me, ok?" When the grey youngling nodded, Jazz continued. "I want you to go to this address," he sent Barricade's home address to the youngling over their comm., "and tell a black mech called Barricade, and only that mech, what happened and where to come. Can ya do that for me?"

"Yes!" Bluestreak hesitated for a moment, then spoke up. "Do you think I can meet… Prowl when you've helped him? I wanna thank him."

Jazz had to restrain himself from hugging the youngling. "I'll make sure you can see him, Blue. Now, I gotta go and ya make sure ya get there safe, ok?"

When the youngling nodded once again, Jazz turned and transformed in a single motion, exiting the alley with a screech of his tyres, racing into the direction of the place he would find Prowl.

XXXXX

"I beg your pardon?" Prowl's voice was pure ice. The enforcer knew exactly what Swindle intended now, and he wouldn't stand for it. For a moment the fury rising up in him was so strong, had he been free already, he wasn't sure if he could have stopped himself from killing Swindle. The thought was incredibly tempting, but Prowl also knew he would never forgive himself if he killed the other in cold blood, wouldn't like the mech he would become if he did.

But he would stop him. Prowl would not let Swindle hurt another loved one! Snarling he vowed to himself to protect Jazz with everything he had!

Undisturbed by the sudden open display of cold fury, Swindle continued. "I cannot have any more interruptions to my businesses. As regrettable as this is, my hands are tied." He sighed dramatically. "Imagine what kind of message it would send if I did nothing! It would be a sign of weakness, letting a single mech get into the way of good business like that."

As Swindle droned on, he failed to notice the faint click of handcuffs opening. Having turned his back to his captive he failed to notice Prowl standing from the chair and stalking closer soundlessly, now holding two sets of cuffs in his hands, his golden optics blazing with protective fury. When he finally turned the only thing he saw was the outline of a white ped coming closer at the speed of lightening filling his vision, before everything turned black.

XXXXX

The warehouse was exactly like the grey youngling had described it to him. Little Bluestreak had paid attention to every detail and precisely relayed them to Jazz. The seemingly abandoned building looked as shabby as they came. The windows were caked with grime, the metal making up their frames and the walls was covered in rust and had even rotted away in some places. One cut from any of those would result in a serious infection, it made Jazz itch just from looking at it. He even caught himself wishing for a jab from Ratchet!

Shuddering at the thought of Ratchet pointing a needle in his direction he inspected the building closely from his vantage point. At odd intervals there were some hidden security cameras and sensors, but the saboteur had broken into places that had been a lot better secured than this. Some fancy maneuvering would be required, but nothing more strenuous than that.

It was obviously not Swindle's main hideout, Jazz knew for a fact that it was a lot more closely guarded, but one of the places where he stashed his goods or held meetings with his underlings, a place that was important enough for security, but just unimportant enough that it could be sacrificed in case there were interruptions by the authorities. That suited Jazz just fine, because it meant he would be able to get to Prowl that much faster.

His visor flashed as he carefully skulked closer to the building and cracked the door lock in no time at all. If Swindle had laid so much as a claw on any part of Prowl to harm him, the crime lord was a dead mech walking. Keeping himself busy imagining the various things he could do to the other mech he checked the straight hallway for obstacles, but there was nothing but some open doorways between him and the end of the corridor, where it turned around to the left. Quick glances to the doorway revealed nothing but empty rooms or storage crates ready to be shipped of. There were no signs of sentient life at all.

Soundlessly he glided around the corner, ready to rip Swindle to pieces with his bare hands for touching the bot he loved with his dirty claws, for hurting his Prowl. No one hurt his Prowl!

Vowing to himself once again not to let anyone get away with that, he whipped his daggers out and readied himself to kick Swindle's aft to the pit, back up and down again. After a thorough… discussion.

But when he looked around the corner he could only gape in astonishment.

There was a green and brown heap of parts on the floor, which he at first took for a pile of spare parts, but then it moved and he realized that the heap was actually two big mechs tied together in a very interesting way, making it almost impossible (except for the colour) to tell which twitching limbs belonged to which bot. Helpless groans sounded from the pitiful conglomeration of mechs.

Incredulous he poked the cluster, earning a few squiggles.

So the underlings were taken care of already. Which begged the question who had been responsible for that, since the only mechs who knew about the affair were Swindle, his stooges, Jazz… and Prowl. Still, he should check.

The door to Swindle's office wasn't hard to find, seeing as it was the only door in the warehouse which was guarded, or rather had been guarded, until someone had tied the guards up, using them as the rope and one pair of handcuffs. A pair of handcuffs which were standard enforcer cuffs. So while Jazz was still wary (there might be other henchmen around still), he wasn't particularly worried anymore.

So he shouldn't have been surprised by what he found when he finally opened the door without a sound, but then he hadn't expected to see Prowl sitting there, idly leafing through some datapads. Jazz fixed his gaze on Prowl's black and white body, lingering lovingly on the features he loved most, when he caught the slight injuries on Prowl's frame. Seething he noted the bruising on the wrists, where the cuffs had chaffed them. There were scratches on his frame and one of the regal doorwings he loved so much was drooping in an odd angle, obviously dislocated. He catalogued them all… for later.

Without consciously being aware of it he had moved towards Prowl, who squeaked in surprise when he was suddenly swept up in Jazz's arms, but as soon as he recognized his "attacker" he relaxed and returned the embrace, only to find himself thoroughly being kissed (not that he minded).

The possessive growl that had been fighting to break free from his throat finally won, when Prowl hissed in pain, his dislocated doorwing protesting the fluttering movement it was instinctively trying to perform at the sight of Jazz. "Ya're hurt."

"The injuries are minor." Prowl had heard the growl and noticed the possessive-protective note, but it didn't bother him, the opposite really. It felt nice to be the one being protected for a change. Not that he would admit that out loud. Not yet, anyway.

The softest of touches were bestowed to the more obvious of Prowl' injuries, the saboteur paying attention to Prowl's reactions to see how severe the injuries were. "That ya're in pain makes it major ta me, Sparkles. Who did that?" There was a faint undertone of menace in Jazz's voice.

"They have been dealt with already." Another wince escaped the doorwinger, when the pain in his wing refused to ebb away. "Besides they shall be given over to the authorities, as soon as we call them."

"They ain't been dealt with enough for hurtin' ya." The silver mech paused. "Ya haven't called anyone yet?"

"My comms have been disabled while I was unconscious, so there was no way for me to establish contact with anyone. Besides I knew you would come for me." Slowly a soft smile appeared on Prowl's face, one that he would only ever give to Jazz.

"Ah'll always come for ya, Prowler," Jazz crooned in answer, nuzzling Prowl's nose with his own. "Ya were unconscious? Did those bastards knock ya out?" Immediately he searched Prowl's head for injury with his fingertips, enraged someone would do that to Prowl.

"No, they injected me with something." Checking Prowl's neck he soon found the miniscule wound where they had injected the poison into his love's neck. Unbeknownst to him red specks glowed in his dark visor, a sign of his fury over their treatment of his doorwinger.

To distract himself he placed a soft kiss on the spot, which prompted a small purr from the slender form in his grasp.

"Will you two get a room, please?" A voice interrupted their reunion. Looking around to locate the voice Jazz realized it had come from …Prowl's seat? Belatedly the yellow and purple colour of the enforcer's sitting accommodation and its unusual shape registered. That was no chair. It was an expertly tied up Swindle.

Throwing a questioning look to the smaller mech Jazz received a nonchalant shrug as an answer. "I had to make sure he was not going to escape while my back was turned."

"Ya gonna have ta teach me how ta do that."

Snorting, Prowl poked Jazz in the chest plating. "So you can do what?"

"Well, Sparkles, that's for meh ta know and ya ta find out." His face was a mix of innocent professionalism and lecherous mischievousness as he waggled his optic ridges at Prowl.

"I don't think so, Jazz." Optics glinting with humor, Prowl added completely deadpan, "Though I might be persuaded to do so."

"Really?" Jazz grinned. "Lemme persuade away then." Leaning down he was about to indulge in another kiss, when they were interrupted again.

"Helloho?" The exclamation once again drew their attention to Swindle. "Could you please stop that while I have to listen to you? You want to get down and dirty with your toy, do so somewhere else, before-"

Whatever he was about to say, was silenced by a very painful grip around some very sensitive wires. Belatedly Swindle realized that it may have been a very bad idea to insult his captors like that, especially since he wasn't sure right now who of them was the more dangerous one… though he was about to find out.

"Careful what ya say now," the silver figure snarled menacingly, his grip around the wires tightnening for a moment, eliciting a whimper from the captive mech. :: Ya lucky ma Prowl's around, or else this chat wouldn't be as tame as it is now. :: Distinct images of just what Jazz would like to be doing to the mech right now were sent over the comm. link along with the message, frightening Swindle badly.

:: You are bluffing, I'm sure we can make a deal profiting both of us, this is all a misunderstanding, I'm sure. :: His bartering skills had helped him out of some tight spots before.

:: A misunderstanding. :: Jazz hissed. ::Abducting MY Prowl, hurting him and threatening to do more was a misunderstanding? Using an innocent youngling ta do so was a misunderstanding? Killing his parents during yar first trip in Praxus was a misunderstanding? :: By now Swindle was shivering openly, Jazz's inner predator reveling in its prey's struggle. :: Don't ya think ya ain't going ta pay for all'a that! I'll-::

"Jazz!"

Hissing Jazz turned towards the bot who had called out and came face to face with Prowl, the doorwinger's look unreadable. His anger deflagrated at once upon seeing the pained look on the doorwinger's face. "Prowler, Ah…"

"I know that you have most likely done worse things as a saboteur, or in all likelihood will, but please, let it go."

"Ya know what he did?" Jazz asked, his fist clenched, his darker side flaring with the desire to repay the captive for the pain he had caused the doorwinger.

"Yes, I know." Prowl whispered. "And I was sorely tempted myself, but let us do this the right way. He will pay for what he did, but not like this. I do not want his energon on your hands solely because of me."

Jazz nodded tersely, his predatory side submitting to the invisible leash an unknowing Prowl had on it. "Alright." His response was clipped, short. Now that Prowl had seen Jazz's darker side the saboteur wasn't sure if the other still wanted to be with him. He need not have doubted though, for this time it was Prowl who came to him, Prowl who embraced and kissed him.

"I understand, Jazz." It was all he had to say and all he needed to say. Jazz saw that when he looked into Prowl's optics. With a shuddering sigh he held Prowl to his chest, deliriously happy not to have lost him to this.

Trying to lighten the mood, Jazz piped up. "I ain't explainin' this to the Hatchet."

"Why should we?" Prowl pointed out. "Ratchet does not need to know."

"Oh yes, he does. Who else is gonna treat yar injuries? Ya really wanna explain to the doc why ya didn't come ta him?" Jazz teased.

"Point taken." Recalling something else Prowl paused. "Barricade is going to kill us."

Jazz cringed. "So's my boss." His sire was going to have some words with Jazz concerning this mission…

"So will the Chief." Prowl added.

They shuddered in unison, anticipating the blistering lectures, they were sure they were going to receive very soon. Exchanging a rueful glance with the other, Prowl suggested, "We could talk to them together. All of them."

The silver mech stared openmouthed, secretly admiring the other mech's gumption. "Ya got a death-wish, Sparkles?"

Prowl chuckled. "No, but this way we only have to go through the procedure once. Maybe one of them will even take pity on us. And we can stay together longer."

Sighing theatrically, Jazz relented. "Ya fight dirty Sparkles. Out-bargained by the other half ta my spark, what's a mech ta do?"

"Help me get to Ratchet's clinic, once we have informed the Precinct and your superiors?" Prowl offered, half in jest. "I'll have to walk, transforming is out of the question."

"Ah called the cavalry when Ah arrived, they're gonna be here any click now. As for walking ta Ratchet's…" Grinning mischievously Jazz swept Prowl up into his arms, holding him bridal style much to the enforcer's consternation.

"What are you doin?" He exclaimed, arms automatically coming up to wrap around the silver mech's neck.

"Ain't it obvious? As a knight in shiny armour it's ma duty ta carry tha prince out of the beast's layer."

Prowl raised an optic ridge at Jazz, who blithely ignored the look he was given. "I am perfectly capable of walking."

Visor twinkling with mirth, Jazz pressed a kiss to Prowl's chevron. "Ah know, but Ah wasn't in time ta slay tha dragon, so the least Ah can do is carry ya ta the Doc. Indulge me, Sparkles."

"Alright." Snuggling up to Jazz's chestplates, he was content to be carried by the saboteur, even if it wasn't really dignified.

Carrying Prowl outside Jazz sat down on a crate, still holding the doorwinger close on his lap, as they settled down to wait for the enforcers' and the Special Ops mechs' arrival.

To Be Continued

Author's Note 2: Prowl certainly is no damsel in distress XD And Jazz is not the only protective one in this relationship…

Jazz hasn't forgotten about Blue, that will be part of the next chapters.

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