Interlude #4
Prowl; Safekeeping

Working in the garages was filthy work and by the end of each day, Mikaela was in desperate need of a shower. Or so she told Prowl, every day, and he agreed with quiet amusement, following her back to her quarters.

Not theirs, not his, though he stayed there every night. He had his own quarters, if he wanted, halfway across the city, much too far away. He had never recharged in them. By his calculations, the odds were far too great she would be long dead before he could reach her in the middle of an attack. Unacceptable. He recharged outside, in front of her door, his sensors on constant low-level alert.

Prowl hadn't allowed her out of his sensor range since her little excursion to the city.

He followed her into her quarters without comment, watched as she stripped away her filthy work clothes and tossed them into a basket with others. She didn't ask him to join her, offered nothing more than a look over her shoulder that if one were kind, might be called coy.

Prowl wasn't noted for his kindness. He called it hungry and the water from the shower was barely warm before he pushed her under it, soaping away the grime of the workshop briskly before he finally kissed her. Pressed her against the cool, wet tiles and tasted the clean blandness of her skin, cupping his hands over the softness of her breasts to tease at the nipples with his thumbs.

It had been some time since he'd been with an organic being, since before he had bonded to Jazz but Prowl suspected he would have wanted this little human from the moment they'd met, no matter the circumstances. Equal parts strong and sweet, fiery, he might have called her, only to himself. He would have wanted to touch and taste her no matter how they had met.

Jazz wouldn't have minded. Point of fact, Jazz would have begged to join in or at least for the chance to watch.

He had never asked for, nor expected, monogamy from Jazz. It wasn't who he was; Jazz loved sharing physical pleasure, with mechs and organics, just as likely to offer a casual interface as he was a smile. He had been nearly as skilled with holoforms as Bumblebee but had none of the younger's qualms about forms. Male, female, the occasional asexual species, Jazz changed his sensor arrays as casually as other mechs did their color. His physical form so utterly available, to anyone.

It was his spark, his love, that was...had been...reserved for Prowl alone. Prowl had never considered asking for more.

Were Jazz here right now, he would have no uncertainties about running his hands over Mikaela's slick skin, would have relished every gasp she gave. He might have looked up with a cheeky grin, might have licked and kissed every inch of her skin before venturing to the places that glowed with urgent heat.

Jazz was not here, could not be here, and so Prowl knelt instead on the hard tile in front of her and spread her legs, kissing between them. Here, there was some small human taste, not all of it washed away in soapy bubbles. Here he could taste warm sweetness, feel her delicate flesh tremble against his tongue as he pressed it against her.

Slim fingers tightened into his hair and through the rush of water, Prowl could hear Mikaela's sounds, base and tight, urgent as he spread her legs further and licked deep inside, caught her thighs in both hands and lifted her easily. So wet, with more than just the water pouring from the showerhead and it was so purely organic, the soft taste of her. A low growl escaped from him and Mikaela squirmed in his grip, pleading silently for more.

Sweet, pretty little human. Eager to share her body and to take any pleasure that Prowl offered. A faint reminisces of Jazz, but Mikaela was no substitute. Prowl neither wanted nor needed one, content to take her as she was.

But oh, Jazz would have loved to watch this and a memory was murmuring through Prowl's processors, Jazz's sly voice teasing him into sliding a finger inside her, feel her slick muscles clench around him as she tensed and whimpered, skin flushed with more than just the heat of the shower.

She fell limp into his arms and Prowl leaned back against the wall, bracing her with his knees as he slid into the welcoming heat of her body.

I'll keep you safe, Prowl promised, only to himself, embedding the command into his databanks. I won't fail you. Slowly, Mikaela roused, the sated lines of her face tightening again into need as she slowly began to rock in his lap, the water still pouring its liquid warmth over them.

I'll keep you safe. I can keep you safe. I can.

Safe.

-finis-