Title: Mischief
Rating: K
'Verse: G1
Characters: Prowl/Jazz
A/N: happy birthday fianna9 ^_^
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I just play with 'em :)
Prowl's arrival in the rec room in the middle of the day was unusual, but not overly remarkable. His actions were a different matter, though.
He got a cube of energon and drank it all in one long gulp. Then when he was finished, instead of heading off to his office he turned to the corner and began manipulating the stereo system that was quietly playing.
He selected a track with a strong beat and began dancing to it.
Everyone in the rec room fell silent, watching startled as the mech in the corner got more and more involved in the dance. Then the music stopped and Prowl simply pulled himself back into his usual posture and strode out.
"What the frag was that?" Cliffjumper blurted.
Just as curious, Bluestreak darted out of the room and found Prowl heading towards the command centre, datapad in hand.
"That was really cool!" he enthused.
Prowl looked at him mildly.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The dancing. It was neat! I didn't know you could dance like that."
"Dancing is hardly important for my role."
"Yeah I know but..."
"One moment, I need to check on the security room." Prowl interrupted him, heading into the small room.
Bluestreak waited patiently outside, realising that several others had been following them and were waiting at a distance, listening in. Prowl re-emerged after a brief moment, clearly not needing long for whatever he was doing.
"It's okay." Bluestreak assured him. "I mean, no-one'll care if you want to dance, you were really good too!"
Prowl's gaze was fixed on his datapad.
"I was thinking of taking it up as a hobby."
"Dancing? Really?"
"Jazz has been helping me. Unfortunately he finds the idea rather erotic so I have been unable to practice adequately in our quarters without interruption."
Bluestreak's jaw dropped. Everyone knew Jazz had moved in with Prowl a few months back, but they were both remarkably discreet. Prowl never talked about their private life, and Jazz just grinned and winked when pressed for details.
"Uh..." he began unintelligently.
"I'm considering having a stereo unit installed in my office so that I can practice there." Prowl continued blandly, striding onwards, now heading towards the medbay. "Not that that is likely to dissuade Jazz from interrupting, of course. The mech can be very persistent when he is focused on a particular course of action. Would you excuse me a moment, I need to speak with Ratchet on a private matter?"
"S-sure."
"Thank you."
Prowl headed into the medbay and the door closed behind him. Several of the others moved up to beside Bluestreak.
"Is he feeling okay?" Sideswipe asked.
"He's not acting like himself, that's for sure." Windcharger shook his head. "I wonder if he's been attacked by an Insecticon or something."
"He's not acting like himself." Blaster agreed, frowning, then laughed. "Maybe because he's not."
The others looked at the bigger mech, who shrugged.
"Think about it. He's paired up with Jazz. He's acting like Jazz. What's the bet this is Jazz in disguise and Prowl's back in his office working as normal?"
Groaning as the answer became obvious they all waited until Prowl returned. The tactician looked around the group with mild curiosity.
"Has something happened?"
"You're not Prowl." Sideswipe accused him.
Prowl stared at him blankly.
"Your statement makes no sense. Of course I am Prowl, who else would I be?"
"Play it up as much as you like, Prowl, we all know you're really Jazz."
"Jazz is in a meeting with Optimus Prime."
"Sure he is."
Prowl gave them an exasperated look.
"I have no time for these games, there is work to be done. If you'll excuse me."
He tried to push through the group, but Smokescreen caught his arm.
"Oh no you don't. We want to see you and Jazz together before we let you go anywhere."
"I told you, he's in a meeting." Prowl said firmly.
"Then we'll all just wait until he comes out." Windcharger shrugged.
"Very well. We will all go to Prime's office. And when Jazz emerges you will see that you're incorrect. And at that stage you will all leave me in peace or I will find you work to do. Agreed?"
Several of the group looked less certain, but Sideswipe nodded.
"Agreed. Come on," he told the others as Prowl headed off, "he's bluffing, he's gotta be."
Curious, the group moved on, following until Prowl reached the door to Prime's office. The tactician muttered in irritation but knocked on the door which opened after a moment to reveal Optimus and Jazz sitting at the Prime's desk, both looking surprised by the crowd.
"What's up?" Jazz asked before Optimus could speak.
Prowl strode inside to stand beside where Jazz was sitting, then gestured at the crowd.
"They think I'm you."
"Say what? Why'd they think that?"
"I have no idea. My apologies, Prime, for interrupting your meeting."
"That's alright, Prowl, we were just finished in any case."
"Which, by my countin', puts us both of duty for a bit, right?" Jazz mused, rising.
"Correct." Prowl agreed.
"Good." Jazz grinned, then swept Prowl off his pedes into a deep kiss.
Ten minutes later
Prowl and Jazz walked into Prowl's office and closed the door, then turned to face their duplicates waiting there for them.
"Well?"
"They thought I was you." the Prowl-clone sighed, fiddling with the temporary holograph unit he was wearing to turn it off and flickering back to his normal blue and white colouration.
"That was fun." the other mech grinned, his own hologram fading to reveal green paint.
"The upshot being that they all would notice if we started actin' diff'rent." Jazz mused.
"That is good for security." Prowl reminded him. "Thank you, Mirage, Hound, this was useful."
"Hope you're not too mad with how we played it." Hound said apologetically.
Prowl waved a hand dismissively.
"We asked you to do so. I'm sure we can manage to live with whatever fallout comes of this. Thank you for your assistance."
The spy and the scout left, and Jazz stretched.
"Y'know, we coulda just done it by sorcellin'. I could show ya how."
Prowl snorted.
"We tried that before and as soon as you got your hands on me the lesson ended."
Jazz grinned, moving to straddle his lover's lap.
"Can't help it, you're jus' that slaggin' sexy."
"Hmm." Prowl responded, kissing him. "There is one thing concerning me about this experiment, however."
"What's that?"
"How did Hound know I like to dance to the Red Hot Chili Peppers?"
"Lucky guess?"
"With your staff, I doubt it."
Jazz laughed, nuzzling his forehead.
"No-one'll believe it. They already know they've been duped, they jus' can't figure out how."
"True. Very true." Prowl mused, then rose, tipping Jazz off his lap. "Come on."
"Where to?"
Prowl grinned coyly at him.
"I feel like dancing."