Sorry for the wait!

Prowl woke up with a dull ache in his side and a pressure in his palm. Turning, oh why did that hurt, he saw Jazz, his mouth moving a mile a minute and – oh no, oh no he was crying why was he crying, please, please don't cry I hate it when you do-!

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" The words spilling from Jazz's mouth suddenly made sense, and Prowl tried to sit up.

Agonizing pain.

He aborted the action and lay back down again with a grimace.

"Don't reopen it, please Prowler." Jazz said, a hand gently pressing into his shoulder.

"Ugh." Prowl groaned, pressing his palm into his forehead. "I got shot. How did I not expect that?"

"Ah should have told ya." Jazz quietly said. Prowl narrowed his eyes at him.

"Yes. You should."

"We have ta move, too." Jazz continued, giving Prowl a cautious glance. What was he worried about-

Oh. Yes. That.

We.

"That place with the windows you liked hasn't been bought yet." Prowl replied. "I checked."

Jazz gratefully squeezed his fingers.

"But don't think you've gotten away scot free." Prowl said before closing his eyes. He was so, so tired…

"Oh, Ah'd never." Jazz replied.

Prowl never got a chance to bid farewell to their old apartment and it's mottled carpets.

Jazz had gotten to buying the new place not long after Prowl had woken up – now that the enemy knew where it was, they had to move or they'd try again and again – it was cheaper and easier for everyone if they just lived elsewhere.

Bluestreak happily flopped down onto his bed – oh it was huge and oh so very plump and soft and warm and cuddly-

Even more so when Socks jumped up and joined him, kneading Blue's tummy before settling down there to nap.

While before they'd been living in a cheap apartment – it was less suspicious than living in the luxury they could afford – they now lived in a modest home with a spacious garden. Even better, the base was much closer – they could walk there if they had wanted to.

And even better than that when Bluestreak was concerned?

No more catching the bus to see the twins! Oh no, they were within walking distance too.

Prowl was just glad that there were less steps; he didn't think he'd be able to get to his old apartment with the state he was in, especially on his own.

He had wanted to surprise Jazz, and so didn't tell him that he had been released – Ironhide had given him a lift to his new house and left him to sneak in and sneak up on Jazz.

Even from outside, Ironhide heard the shriek from Jazz as Prowl scared him senseless.

He drove away with a smirk on his face.

"Ah didn' know ya were getting released today!" Jazz exclaimed, desperate to hug him tightly, but knowing better. Instead, his hands trembled with excitement as they clutched onto Prowls. "Why didn' ya tell me?!"

"To keep it a surprise." Prowl said. "I like what you've done with the place so far. I'm amazed you managed it without me." Prowl smirked.

"Cruel, Ah can do some thin's."

"Such as unpack, clearly." Prowl replied. Jazz avoided looking behind Prowl, where another stack of their things still lay. He hadn't gotten round to that just yet…

"Come on, Ah'll give ya a tour of the place." Jazz said, pulling Prowl along behind him. "Apparently the internet's coming on today."

"We could skype my mother."

"Ah'm sure she's having kittens about ya."

Prowls mother had been stuck over seas as part of her job, and was distraught when her bosses forbade her to return to see her son in hospital. Jazz was pretty sure her bosses received an ear full for it, but decided to not say anything to anyone about it.

It had been months since Prowl had first fallen asleep in his new room.

Settled in, the three (four, if you included Socks) piled into the car and drove to the base. There, Jazz got to work, Bluestreak went to complete an assignment and Prowl was surrounded by people he was surprised to learn had missed him. Prowls plan of sneaking into his office and working was foiled.

He had learned of the fate of the woman who had shot him, and it was with no small amount of glee that he discovered she was still being held in the brig. Apparently, she was with the Decepticons and they were going to have a shot at bargaining for a prisoner of their own.

Prowl didn't look at his watch, or any kind of clock for that matter, until Bluestreak plopped himself down next to him, a sleepy Socks in his arms, and asked him where Jazz was.

"I thought he finished around now." Bluestreak said, squishing one of Socks paws in between his fingers. The cat lazily flicked its tail at him.

"He's probably caught up talking to someone." Prowl replied, leaning over to scratch the cat behind its ear. "I'll see if I can find him."

Before Bluestreak could protest, Prowl stood and left the room. Walking was still awkward for him, but it was manageable.

Jazz was still in his office, and was surprised when he saw Prowl suddenly sitting opposite him.

"What's keeping you?" Prowl asked, chin in hand.

"Nothin' big." Jazz replied, typing on his keyboard again. "Jus' tha' Ah've been asked ta interview Kira."

"Kira?"

"Tha' nice lil lady who shot ya."

Prowl's hand twitched. When Special Ops was involved, interview was just a nice way of saying interrogate. "Are you sure you should be?"

"Ah had the joy of workin' with her for a bit." Jazz replied. "Ah've learned her tics and mannerisms, if she's lyin' Ah'll know."

"We still haven't talked about that, you know." Prowl replied. Jazz had the decency to look a little meek, but Prowl continued before Jazz could reply. "Before she shot me, she felt the need to go on and reveal her evil plans." There was a smirk on his face. "They don't seem to learn, do they?"

"No, they don't." Jazz replied, finally giving Prowl his full attention. "Ah didn' do anythin' with her, Ah just worked ma ass off ta get into her good graces an' get inside."

"I trust you." Prowl replied, standing. "Come on, Bluestreak's about to gnaw my legs off he's so hungry."

Both knew what Bluestreak could get like when he was hungry. The Snickers advert was often reminiscent of him, so much so that Sideswipe had taken to carrying around Snickers bars with him and handing one to Bluestreak before sprinting away to avoid the punch that was thrown.

"We'll talk about it later, yeah?" Jazz said, shutting down his computer. It could wait.

"That would be preferable." Prowl replied, following Jazz out.

When they had returned home, the first thing Bluestreak did was stick his head into the fridge. He shut it as he chomped down on an apple, juice spraying over his face. But did he care? No, not when he finally had something to eat.

"Ya should'a said ya were hungry earlier!" Jazz scolded, shooing the cat as he made to open the fridge himself. "Go do ya homework, Ah'll call ya down when it's ready."

"Thank you!" Bluestreak cheered as he raced away upstairs.

"We're by a different school now." Prowl said, giving Jazz a sideways glance.

Jazz nearly dropped the cans of chopped tomatoes. "Are ya sure it'd be a good idea?"

"We should talk to him about it. He can't come to base forever."

"Ah know, but…"

"Just think about it." Prowl replied. The cat leaped onto his shoulder as he stood to leave, causing the man to stumble slightly before catching himself on the table. "You've been feeding Socks again, haven't you?" He pointed an accusing finger at Jazz.

"Maybe?"

"Jazz-"

"Ya haven't seen his face!" Jazz defended himself, "Plus they just steal it! A thieving paw comes up and poof! Gone!"

"Are you stealing things?" Prowl asked Socks, facing the cat now giving him an innocent look. It meowed.

"See! Socks admits it." Jazz replied, turning to tear the lids off the cans. "Could ya get the chili powder down from the shelf, please?"

"How did you even get it up here?" Prowl muttered as he opened the door and got it down.

"Blaster helped me unpack." Jazz replied.

"I guess that explains how your speakers have been so perfectly rigged." Prowl replied, taking out a chopping board and a knife to start cutting up some mushrooms. "How spicy are we making this?"

"Not very, gotta give ya tummy some time to heal." Jazz teased. Prowl swatted away his hand when he attempted to pat his midsection.

It was after dinner when Jazz finally spilled the beans on just what he had been doing before Prowl had been shot.

Bluestreak had gone up to bed, Socks tagging along at his heels, and could faintly be heard cursing at his DS. Judging from the music, he was probably playing Pokémon.

Sitting on the sofa downstairs, listening to the rain as it pattered against the windows, Jazz recounted everything. First uncovering the plot, how terrified he was, and how he became so caught up in stopping it that he forgot about everything else.

Jazz's face fell when Prowl didn't give much of a reaction. Had he completely screwed up?

But then, finally, Prowl replied.

"Next time, just tell me. I am clearly the better tactician of us."

"Ya cheeky little-!" Jazz swatted at him.

"You have no room to complain." Prowl replied, kissing his nose. "I ended up getting shot anyway."

Jazz just huffed and relaxed against him. "Fine."

An hour later, the two retreated upstairs to bed.

Prowl woke up early, and the first thing he did was shower.

It was the only time he could justify standing in the mirror and just staring at the scar that lay over his stomach.

It was a deep, puckered hole in his abdomen. Prowl hadn't tried, but he suspected that he'd be able to hold a 50p coin in it.

No matter. He'd now match Jazz.

There was a dog in the garden.

Prowl was disturbed from his reading when he heard the excited barks, and he peered out to see a golden retriever bounding around the garden, a toy in his mouth as Bluestreak attempted to wrestle it off him so he could throw it, the dog bolting after it and bounding back for the cycle to repeat again.

They did not own a dog. They had a cat.

"Jazz?" Prowl called out, slowly standing.

"Yeah?" He called from the other room.

"Why is there a dog in the garden?"

"Sunny brought 'im over. His names bob, ya should go say hi."

Somewhat reluctantly, Prowl went downstairs and peered out into the garden. Sunstreaker was kneeling down next to the beast, rubbing it's belly and giving it scritches, happily accepting the slobbery kisses the dog gave in return.

"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" Sunstreaker could be heard saying, rubbing the dog around its face, squishing its ears forwards before stroking them back out again. The dogs' tail was wagging excitedly, its tongue lolling out. When Bob spotted Prowl, he barked happily and bounced towards him.

Prowl knelt down and petted the dog, allowing it to lick his face once before he pushed it away. Bluestreak whistled and Bob ran straight back to him.

"Hello, Sunstreaker. I didn't know you were here." Prowl said, walking out into the garden.

"I just got here." Sunstreaker replied. "Blue let me in."

"This is Bob!" Bluestreak excitedly replied, the dog coming to press against him in a silent demand for more petting. "He's a rescue from the shelter. Did you know there's a shelter on the way to the twins shop?"

Oh, of course. Bluestreak must have gone in one day and seen the beautiful dog, immediately telling the twins about it and dragging it in.

It was no surprise that Sunstreaker had a soft spot for the dog. They had the same colour hair.

Socks was clearly jealous of the dog as they slunk around in the shadows, eyes glued onto the dog. When Prowl was within range, they climbed up the wall and jumped down onto his shoulder, tail curling around his neck.

Bluestreak laughed, Sunstreaker allowing a small smirk.

"I think someone's jealous." Sunstreaker replied, smiling harder at the swift glare he received.

"Evidently. They're digging their claws in." Prowl replied, trying to prize the cat off his shoulder. "Ow, ow, ow…"

Socks was yowling and hissing, insistent that they were not removed. Prowl quickly gave in and retreated back inside, livid cat hissing at the dog from his shoulder.

Bob simply tilted his head, tongue lolling out as he panted.

In the end, Jazz decided to not interview Kira.

Every time he saw the scar on Prowls stomach he would be filled with so much anger, so much hate, he knew that the moment he saw her ratty little face again he'd lose it. He'd lose it, he'd lose it and he'd hit her and hit her and hit her-

Prowls hands gently wrapped themselves around Jazz's shaking ones, and he rested his chin on the top of Jazz's head.

"Jazz," He softly said, "I know this is a bad time, but there's something you need to see."

Jazz sighed, trying to calm himself again. "Where is it?"

"It's in the living room."

Untangling himself from Prowl, Jazz went downstairs. Prowl followed him closely behind, and when Jazz got to the living room door Prowl bent down slightly, as if he were about to catch something.

Raising an eyebrow, Jazz carefully opened the door.

There was a mass of fur on the sofa, gently moving. Then, he saw a black nose, and a wagging tail-

"A dog?!"

"I found it." Prowl meekly replied. "While I was getting some more milk…"

"What is it with ya and abandoned animals?" Jazz replied, letting Prowl in behind him and closing the door. "Holy shit, Prowler. What breed is it?"

"It's a Dalmatian." Prowl replied. "It didn't have a name tag, and the vet couldn't find an identification chip…"

"Ah'll get Sides ta advertise. Again." Jazz replied, walking closer to the animal.

But now that he was closer, he saw thick, scarred over lacerations all over its body. A few were open, although thankfully not bleeding.

"Prowler, it's hurt."

"The vet did what she could." Prowl replied, kneeling down next to the dog and allowing it to sniff his fingers before he stroked it. "This dog was terrified, Jazz. Whoever owned it before can't get him back."

"So we've got another pet ta add ta the collection." Jazz replied, allowing the dog to smell him too. The dog, upon seeing that this new human didn't bother Prowl in the slightest, licked Jazz's fingers.

"Should we name him, or is that too clingy?" Prowl replied.

"If we're keepin' him, he'll need a name." Jazz replied. He glanced around the room and spotted the 101 dalmations case.

"Pongo." Jazz said. "Pongo. His name's Pongo."

Prowl smiled. "Pongo." He said.

Pongo barked, tail furiously wagging again.

An hour later saw Pongo sporting a new, blue collar with a bone shaped name tag. Lead clipped on, Prowl took the dog around the pet shop to find him a bed, some toys, a blanket, and two bowls (they'd buy an extra set later). After a moments thought, Prowl bought a cage for Pongo. If he turned out to be mischievous when no one was home, he'd need somewhere to be confined. Regardless, the cage could also provide somewhere for the dog to hide away if need be.

Pongo watched curiously as Prowl set up the cage in the kitchen, putting the basket inside it and putting blankets out over the top to create a secluded area for the dog. A microwaveable toy was placed inside, and Prowl sat back to observe his handy work.

Pongo immediately went inside his cage and curled up, very, very pleased with the new arrangement.

Prowl sighed in relief. He had been worried that Pongo wouldn't like it, or would panic and try to maul him again.

Turning off the lights, Prowl left the kitchen, taking care to prop the door open.

Socks crept in to investigate.

They padded up to the cage, sniffing the air and treading carefully. Pongo stuck his head out and touched noses with the cat. After a few moments of smelling the other, Pongo returned to his previous position. Socks stood still for a few moments before entering the cage too, curling up besides Pongo.

I'm such a dog person, I'm not even kidding. I hate cats. It's beyond me why Socks exists…

Thanks for waiting! Let me know what you thought.

~Llama