Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. Just the plot and OCs.

I, J, A – Jazz, Jynx, Prowl. #44. "They can't prove anything."

So, this one didn't really turn out funny, sorry, but it struck me with one of the ideas I've been playing with lately. *cough* possible squeal *cough*. I didn't think you guys would mind the hint though.


"They can't prove anything." The words rolled off of Jazz's tongue like fine highgrade. Smooth, smokey, and with a kick that would knock you flat on your back.

Jynx had to fight back her laughter so she didn't end up falling over sideways.

She was learning though. Learning that getting in the middle of a mates' spat was not something she needed to do. Instead she busied herself with wiping at her splattered armor. The glittering pink truly was an obnoxious color, and frankly it itched like all of pit. The tiny bits of confetti stuck in her grooves and the bright green ribbons hung all about her as they dried in the paint weren't all that much better.

She didn't care though. It had been worth it.

Even if Prowl was fuming behind Jazz while she sat in the middle of their berth dripping cheap paint every where.

The truth was she still wasn't all that sure how they ended up in this situation. The whole fraggin' world knew she wasn't made for these damn political things. Just as every creature with a brain of any kind should know that Jazz wasn't either. Sure, he was smooth and crafty when he wanted to be, but he hated politics. Hated them with a burning passion. Almost as much as he hated these … things they were dealing with.

At first he'd swore against it, saying that Prime could get somebot else to deal with this scheme. That and keeping her along with the twins as far away from all of it as they could possibly get. Then there had been that dinner, if one could call that mess that, and all that went out the window.

They next thing she knew Jazz was neck deep in these politics and she was tagging along behind him. Not really because she knew what was going on with all this, but because, well why wouldn't she want a front row seat to this comedy?

It was worth getting caught in the middle of glitter bombs under blowing lights. It was worth having to twist and smile. For now it was on her terms. Now, she knew if she looked over her shoulder and blinked the wrong way she'd be out of it. That Jazz would keep his word. He had with everything else so far.

"You. Did. This." Prowl's bit out statement drew Jynx's optics from her pulling at ribbons, but she didn't say anything as Jazz turned his back on his mate. Picking up another of their clean rags and went to softly cleaning her free arm.

"Like I sad before." Jazz shrugged. "They can't prove anything."

"It's not about proving anything, Jazz!" Throwing his hands over his helm the Praxian snapped. "It's the fact that you did it and every being there knew it!"

"So?" The silver mech shrugged. "Damn glitch should learn to keep his mouth shut."

"I agree." Prowl shot back. "But this isn't want this is about, Jazz. The Galactic Council–"

"Is a load of slag." Jynx's quiet words drew Prowl to halt. She didn't look back up to see Prowl stall, his doorwings lower, or his shoulders sag, but she didn't need too. They'd had this conversation before. She might still not understand it but that didn't mean they hadn't talked about it before.

With a heavy sigh Prowl finally stepped forward, making his way around the side of the berth until he could sit down beside her. Taking up a rag for himself he made a half motion. Asking permission to help before he reached forward to touch.

Once he had her permission in a short nod he reached forward to start trying to get some of the pink glitter paint and bits of mesh scraps stuck all over her back.

"Yes, I know." He sighed. "But it is necessary."

"Why?"

"Cybertron is healing but not as quick as we would all like. We're at the point where we can stress the planet more or we can try and let it heal. Letting it heal means looking for resources else where. That means trying to make relations with others we should have done long ago."

"They're all glitches." Jazz grumbled from her other side, pulling out a log strip of ribbon from where it was stuck in her elbow. She bit back a giggle at the amused look on his faceplate as she scrubbed at her thigh.

"They're lying." She added in.

"Yes." Prowl nodded. "But we're running out of options here. We do not have to like them. Ending it with the Ground cost a bit too much for us to do this on our own. We need what they have. We just have to play the game to get what we want now. You two are both very good at that."

The pair of them shared a smile that matched in a way that made Prowl's spark warm slightly in his chest before Jazz shrugged.

"I'm going to keep making him pay every time he opens his mouth. Prime knows it."

"Just, please stop massing pranking in the middle of political speeches."

"No promises."

"It is kind of funny watching them run around screaming about a bit of cheap store tricks." Jynx smirked up at Prowl, from under the rim of her visor. Knowing him well enough now to catch the tilt at his lips even if he showed nothing else.

"True as that may be. We need what they have. So please lay off for a little while. At least until Elita can calm them down again."

"If he keeps his mouth shut." Jazz sighed to his mate. "I'll play nice for a while,but he looks wrong one more time. Gloves off."

That was fair enough, Prowl supposed. After all, this was all his to defend as well. They had come too close to losing everything. They would not let it slip away now.


Oh the plans I have.

-Jaycee