Summary: General Strika and Lugnut did not expect their engagement party to bring so many together in so many weird and wonderful ways.

Warnings: Mech x mech kissing, an impromptu waltz ^_~

Waltz - By Optimus Bob

Prowl allowed his mind to wander as he dutifully cleaned and polished the tables. Arcee was quietly and cheerfully humming to herself as she saw to the décor and the ordering of stock. Prowl had to hand it to her, she had good control over the clones and Chromia when it came to getting events like this one organised. Then again, it was for General Strika and Lugnut and they were quite popular among the patrons and staff, so it wasn't altogether surprising that everyone chipped in to help.

His thoughts weren't dwelling on the up and coming engagement party however, he would do what he always did; serve drinks, keep the customers happy and then disappear once the night started to dwindle. Only problem with that was his room seemed unnaturally empty whenever he thought about it. It wasn't that he was used to sharing with anyone, but for that one night he'd had arms wrapped around him, holding him close. It was a feeling he hadn't been able to shake, even though he had woken up the next cycle by himself as he always did. Casting his mind back, he remembered the berth still being warm where his now absent companion had lain. Despite the awkwardness the ninjabot knew to expect whenever he was near or spoke about or to Lockdown, there was a part of him that wished he'd stayed. He couldn't help but wonder what it would have felt like to wake up with someone, with Lockdown.

Sighing softly Prowl suddenly realised he'd stopped polishing the table and had simply been staring at its surface, glancing around hoping nobody had noticed, he moved quickly onto the next table, forcing himself to focus with a low, subtle hum.

"There's no need to feel embarrassed, sweetie." Arcee smiled at him as she trundled past with arms full of frill and lace like material.

Blinking in surprise at the passing comment, Prowl decided to play the innocent card on this one, silently cursing the astute nature of the femme. "Embarrassed about what?"

Arcee chuckled fondly, throwing him a knowing look over her shoulder. "For thinking about him, silly." She turned back to look where she was pinning the lace. "He spent the night, it's perfectly natural to be thinking about it. So you needn't feel embarrassed."

"I… uhm… he didn't… I mean, he left, we didn't. Nothing happened." Prowl stammered, feeling his faceplates flush with heat. "How do you know?" His voice dropped to a whisper, hoping nobody else was eavesdropping.

"Oh, Prowl," Arcee laughed and patted his arm as she headed back to her pile of decorations. "There isn't much that goes on here that I don't know about."

Straightening, in a futile effort to regain some composure, Prowl pursed his lip components. "Still, nothing happened, we talked that's all."

Shrugging slightly, her smile still warm, Arcee continued about her work. "Alright, Prowl." She chuckled fondly and fiddled with a string of lace. "As long as you know you can talk to me, if you need to."

"I…" His protest died in his throat and a small grateful smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

"You're part of the family, Prowl, think nothing of it." The femme gave him a sidelong look, noticing him toying with the cleaning cloth in his fingers. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?" She prompted gently.

Frowning, Prowl stared at his cloth like it was anchoring him to the ground. "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel."

Arcee remained quiet as the ninjabot gathered what was on his processor. She prodded him gently when he seemed to come unstuck with his words. "About?"

"About everything." He met her gaze, his stoic façade riddled with confusion. "We're not at war anymore, things were simpler then. You knew what side you were on, where you stood with certain…"

"Bounty hunters?" Arcee offered with a sympathetic smile.

"Yes." Prowl replied with a defeated sigh, his frame wilting. "I admit, I am at a loss."

"Well, you've been through a lot sweets, just try to relax, let what happens, happen."

A door slammed above the balcony and Chromia's familiar drawl filled the room. "Romeo, oh Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?"

The two 'bots looked at each other and Prowl gritted his denta. "Even that?"

Smirking at the ninja's flat and barely patient tone, Arcee patted his arm. "Even that."

Chromia sauntered down the winding staircase, her sharp optics fixed on the tense ninjabot. "So, how is our Juliette this morning?"

"I'm afraid the nuances of Earth literature escape me, though I'm sure you meant that as an insult."

Perching at the bar, easily propping herself up, Chromia pulled a face at the acerbic tone. "Oooh, did you wake up on the wrong side of the berth, Prowl? Or did your star crossed lover, leave you to your frustrations?"

Growling lowly at her smug grin, Prowl clenched the cloth tighter until he felt Arcee's hand gently resting on his own. Forcing himself to relax, Prowl shot the femme a dark smirk. "Mm, well I can understand why you would be one to sympathise with frustration." He absently began cleaning the table in front of the femme, peering up to offer her an innocent smile. "And will your lothario be attending the party?"

Stifling a snicker, Arcee feigned sudden interest in her already hanging décor, making sure not to meet the femme's optics. Prowl simply resumed his humming and shooed the gob smacked femme from his bar.

"My Lotha… what!" Chromia snapped at Prowl, suspecting it to be an insult of some kind. Huffing petulantly, the femme instantly regained her poise and shot a haughty look at the ninja. "Yeah whatever, Prowl, at least my mech stays in the berth iall/i night."

With that, she turned her back on the black and gold mech with a short laugh and concentrated on making sure she was the picture of perfection, ignoring the subtle undignified muttering from the ninja. "Mm, who knows, your sweet spark may surprise you and sweep you off your feet." She burst into a fit of giggles. "Can you imagine!" She snorted ungainly, finding the imagery incredibly amusing, only stopping when they heard Prowl's door slam shut over her laughter. "What, was it something I said?" She grinned deviously, still chuckling to herself.

"Chromia…" Arcee admonished gently. "You should be nicer, we're lucky to have him back."

"Yeah, yeah I know." The femme protested, slumping into a nearby chair with her arms folded, pursing her lip components. "He's just too much fun!"

Jazz strolled into the bar with an easy casual smile on his face. He hadn't been technically invited but Arcee has asked nicely for his attendance, just in case a party full of Decepticons got out of hand. Smile growing as he spotted the familiar black and gold mech at the bar, Jazz headed over. "Prowl, glad t' see you out n' about. How've you been?"

"I have been 'out and about' for a while, Jazz." Prowl threw him a faint smile. "Though I'm well, thank you for asking."

"Y' do realise you don't have t' be so formal with me, Prowl. We're friends remember?"

Sighing and dropping his gaze before casting him a sheepish look, Prowl shook his helm. "I'm sorry it's been a trying cycle."

"Same slag different cycle huh?"

Chuckling at Jazz's friendly grin, Prowl nodded. "Something like that."

"Well party doesn't seem t' have gotten groovy yet, so pour a mech some high grade and let's hear it."

Unable to find any reason not to Prowl obliged and mixed Jazz's favourite cocktail. It was an equal blend of sweet and tangy flavoured energon in a tall glass, which glowed bright green. Placing it down in front of the ninja, Prowl waited as he always did for Jazz to take the first sip.

Jazz hummed and nodded. "Perfect."

"Glad you approve." Prowl smiled handing him the credit pad for payment, adding nonchalantly; "Lockdown spent the night, last night."

Jazz spluttered into his drink loudly and Prowl found his bar suddenly covered in splatters of bright green. Letting out a patient sigh, he simply wiped it up and averted his optics from his friend's gaze.

"What, that's it? That's all you're giving me?" Jazz peered at Prowl trying to re-focus his attentions. "C'mon mech, it's not like I haven't noticed how you act around each other." He added in soft reassurance.

Visor dimming, Prowl peered up beneath his golden chevron. "That obvious huh?"

Jazz laughed and tentatively took another sip of his drink. "Only t' those who pay attention." He grinned and thwapped Prowl's arm lightly as he went about cleaning his bar out of distraction. "Hey, this is me you're talking to, Prowl."

"I know it's just." Prowl glanced around the still quiet bar and leant closer. "I'm not certain what - if anything - this means."

Jazz's visor flickered at Prowl's obvious embarrassment and he delicately prompted further. "Well, did um... anything happen?"

"No!" Prowl straightened and fiddled with his ridiculous apron, before adding quietly, "of course not. We shared high grade and he tried to get me to talk about... what happened. I asked him to stay, I don't know why but it just... I just," letting out a frustrated sigh, Prowl's frame sagged, "it felt right."

"I can dig that." Jazz murmured thoughtfully, idly swirling his drink. "Have you spoken since?"

"He left, before I woke."

"Well that's nothing t' worry about, Prowl. Question is… what do you want it to mean?"

"I don't understand."

Jazz smiled. "Mech, I think LD is giving you some space, doesn't want t' rush you into anything. So all you've got t' decide is whether you want last night t' mean something."

Inhaling deeply, Prowl off lined his optics for a moment. "I'm going to have to speak with him aren't I?"

"Looks that way, mech." Jazz grinned. "You'll do just fine."

Finally returning the smile with a faint one of his own, Prowl thanked his friend and topped up his almost finished drink. "You have a lot of faith in me."

"Nah, just know that you're not a mech t' let an opportunity pass him by."

The party had picked up around them as they talked and Prowl took a moment to glance at the door. He smiled as a familiar red and blue Prime stepped in, looking a little lost. "Mm, I hope you're one to take your own advice."

Blinking up at the darker ninja, Jazz followed his gaze and instantly turned back around, his frame slouching as he swigged a mouthful of high grade. Frowning at the sudden change in demeanour, Prowl peered at the white mech. "Jazz?"

"S'nothing..."

"Jazz," leaning on the bar, Prowl filled Jazz's vision, forcing him to meet his gaze as he murmured with a knowing smile, "I'm not the only one who's obvious to those who pay attention."

His grim expression breaking into something more amused, Jazz took another mouthful of high grade. "So what is it you think you know, Prowl?" The white mech smirked.

Folding his arms and standing his ground, Prowl quirked an optic ridge at his friend. "I know that you should talk to him."

Shaking his helm, Jazz sighed and stared blankly at the bar counter top, his voice but a murmur. "All the talkin' in the world ain't going t' change his affections."

"It's not like you to give up." Stepping closer, Prowl rested a hand on his arm, his visor glowing softly in understanding. "And no, talking probably won't change his affections, but it might give him options he hadn't thought were open to him before."

Prowl moved away to serve customers, before Jazz could reply, leaving the white mech to his thoughts, not that he had much time as the red and blue mech in question was already by his side.

"Jazz, I'm glad to see you here." Optimus smiled warmly at his friend. "Have you been here long?"

Grinning back, Jazz chuckled as another drink materialised - courtesy of one sneaky bartender - beside his own. Picking it up and offering it to the taller mech, Jazz's visor brightened. "Nah, mech, m' glad for the company. Care t' join me for some high grade?"

"I don't mind if I do." Optimus's smile widened, taking the offered drink.

"Let's grab us a booth before this party really starts kickin' into gear." Jazz suggested, flashing a subtle wink of his visor at his fellow ninja as he passed, receiving a slight bow of a helm and an encouraging smirk in return.

The two mechs watched the party grow in comfortable silence as they sipped their high grade. Jazz's optics were constantly moving as he observed the goings on. Bonecrusher was flitting to and fro making sure nobody touched the prepared goodies and delicacies until Lugnut and Madam Strika arrived, that was proving no easy task as there was more than one table set out with food and the guests were hungry.

Barricade was highly amused by the other 'con's antics, especially when the Autobots didn't seem to understand that Bonecrusher meant business when it came to ihis/i food. He'd had to stifle a snort of laughter each time an Autobot came close to having a goodie fork impaled into an optic. This entertainment only served as partial distraction as the rest of his attentions were on the 'copter making nice in the doorway. Blackout seemed to blossom in the sociable and happy environment, he recognised almost all of the guests as regular customers and didn't hesitate to make small talk with them, something Barricade wasn't going to do. Not even if they paid him.

Smirking as the smaller 'con shifted uncomfortably, in an attempt to hide his feet from the view of Wheeljack, Jazz chuckled to himself, inadvertently drawing Optimus's optics back to him.

"What's so funny?" The Prime smiled, his optics constantly torn between Jazz, his high grade and the bartender going to and fro among the guests serving drinks.

Shaking his helm, Jazz's smile widened. "Nothing, just nice t' see how an event like this still brings everyone together."

"Oh I wouldn't be too sure about that." Optimus replied, nudging Jazz and tilting his helm towards the door.

The Arena boss stood, as if waiting for something, recognition, applause or something that called attention to his unexpected appearance. When the pleasant bustle of the party continued unabashed, Megatron scowled and strolled inside, immediately making his way to one of the more luxurious booths and snapping his fingers to gain the rushed ninjabot's attentions.

Both mechs couldn't help the snicker of amusement as Chromia appeared as if by magic and hovered over Megatron like an earth band groupie, shoving Prowl out of the way, hissing at him to be somewhere else when he whispered an undoubtedly teasing comment into her audio.

Optimus hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I don't know who to feel sorry for more, Megatron or Prowl."

"How about us?" Jazz winced, quickly averting his optics with a grin when the femme all but threw herself at the impressive Decepticon leader.

"Oh, OH… surely they have private rooms." Optimus turned sharply, ducking closer to Jazz as both mechs laughed in mutual amusement.

"There are some things a mech just doesn't want imprinted onto his processor." Jazz chuckled, eyeing the Prime leaning closer to him with an approving optic before downing a large mouthful of high grade in an attempt to wash away the image of Megatron and Chromia. "Speaking of which; would you look at that." Jazz's grin spread into a broad genuine smile as the guests of honour finally appeared.

"They make quite the couple." Optimus mused. "I never would have pegged Lugnut for the settling down type though."

"Peace time changes things OP, a mech's gotta move with the flow."

"Indeed. In some ways I think living during this time is more trying than war."

Jazz pursed his lips in a silent whistle. "Careful what you wish for, mech."

"No, you know what I mean." Optimus frowned, his optics flickering as he tried to back track. "Just it's all politics and friendly gestures."

"You mean, when all you're used t' is fighting, how do you live alongside those you might've shot?"

"Yes. Re-building any kind of trust with the ones who want to live in peace is an uphill struggle, all the time and it always seems on a knife edge from collapse." The Prime sighed, obviously dissatisfied with his current role among the council.

Jazz could relate, after all he was a soldier, one of the Elite, his sole driving purpose had been to put a stop to the Decepticons one way or another and so when it all came to a halt, the white ninja had found himself to be a bit of a loose end. He had more down time now than he did in the field. His missions involved search and capture or rescue, diplomatic relations, things that weren't exactly his forte, yet Jazz knew if given the choice, he wouldn't give up peace to go back to the way it was, no matter how much he might've liked the distraction right now.

The white mech watched as Optimus suddenly tensed beside him, his fingers curling about his glass, optics narrowing as the guests of honour were followed by a distinctive flash of green and black, emphasising the already stark white faceplates of Lockdown.

"Urgh." The red and blue mech grunted distastefully, swallowing his high grade with a clenching jaw.

Tilting his helm at the taller mech, Jazz vented a quiet sigh; he didn't even need to ask why Optimus's demeanour had changed so drastically, it was as clear as Praxian crystal. The mech's optics were fixed on the black and green frame, watching with scrutiny as Lockdown strolled up to the bar and began to make small talk with anyone and everyone in his vicinity, his red optics quite obviously coveting the ninjabot every time he moved past him.

The white ninja couldn't help a smirk as Prowl's distraction became apparent. His skills as a bartender were as such that his drinks still got served without a drop spilled but his movements were less graceful, his attentions frequently lingering on the polished green and black frame propping up his bar.

Arcee began clearing some of the empty tables from the floor with Prowl's help and the music drifting in the background was turned up to a more audible decibel range. Lugnut and Strika were the first on the floor and there weren't two individuals in the room who looked more uncomfortable with having to dance.

Cringing at the awkward display, Lockdown shook his head, put down his drink and strolled straight up to the darker ninja. Taking his hand he led him into the centre of the dance floor, without a word. His deadly hook – temporarily replaced with a workable hand for the evening – curled around Prowl's slender back and tugged him closer with a wide grin, his left optic winking at the startled mech in his clutches before he began to waltz gracefully around the floor, guiding Prowl expertly in a slow formal dance, distracting attention from the two 'cons who; for their part, looked exceedingly grateful.

The sly move from the hunter had Optimus unable to stifle a low growl of disapproval. Jazz downed his high grade and set the glass down onto the table with a firm 'clink' guaranteed to get the red and blue mech's attention.

"Well I think that's my cue." The white ninja stated amicably, burying the disappointment he felt welling up in his spark.

Startled Optimus blinked up in confusion. "But we've only had one drink."

Jazz gave a rueful grin as he got to his feet. "Well I'm sorry to say mech, that I'm not all too keen in playin' second fiddle and I understand that you're otherwise distracted so better that I make myself scarce."

Mouth opening to respond, realisation seemed to wash over Optimus as he glanced at the two waltzing mechs and back at Jazz, his shoulders wilting. "Jazz, I'm sorry. That's so rude of me, it's just—"

"—Look I can tell how you feel about him OP, damn mech I think the whole room can tell so I'm not going to get in your way. Just remember that Prowl's older than he looks, the mech knows what he's doing and where his spark lies." Smiling somewhat sadly at the befuddled Prime, Jazz squeezed his shoulder before turning on his heel.

Jazz didn't want to look back, didn't want to remain; he just wanted to be allowed a dignified exit. He wasn't the type to wait on the sidelines once he'd been pushed aside. He strolled gracefully through the throngs of party goers, threading his way closer to the exit until someone grabbed his wrist tugging him back. In a flash, reacting on instinct, Jazz had the laser edge of his nunchaku out and ready to strike. "What do you want Optimus?"

Optimus inhaled sharply and immediately let go, optics bright as he met Jazz's intense gaze. The white mech had quite obviously reached the end of his patience and he couldn't help but feel he was somehow to blame. "I'm sorry…?"

Relenting, Jazz rubbed his faceplates in frustration. "Do you even know what you're apologising for?"

"Being… rude. Sticking my olfactory sensors in where they don't belong…"

"No, OP! Frag mech, do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I don't know what you want me to say…" Optimus wilted, awkwardly trying not to upset the white ninja. "I mean if you're interested in Prowl then I understand and I'll back off… wha—why are you laughing? I'm serious."

"I know you are, that's why I'm laughing." Jazz sighed and pinched his nose bridge, visor flickering. "Not Prowl, mech." He added softly, taking a step closer to the taller mech, keeping his azure gaze locked on the Prime.

"Lockdo—?"

"—Don't even." Jazz laughed again, holding up a hand to stop Optimus mid-sentence. "Think about it for a klik."

"I don't… I mean….wait…." Intakes stalling, Optimus frowned at the ninja, taking in his softly glowing visor, his insult when he was ready to leave and that gentle yet knowing smirk tugging at his mouth and surprise slowly spread over his face. "Wow…" He breathed quietly. "I never thought…"

"No you didn't." Jazz grinned and gave a slight shrug palms turning up. "So question is; what do you do now?"

"Well I… I think I… um…" Unable to find the right words, his faceplates growing warmer by the second; Optimus floundered like a fish out of water, much to Jazz's amusement before the ninja opted on rescuing the Prime from his debilitating shyness.

"How about, I kiss you and then we can see how we feel from there hm?"

"I um… yes… I'd—I'd like that." Optimus nodded, still finding himself tongue-tied.

Smile widening, Jazz reached a hand up to cup the smoky grey of Optimus's cheek, his fingers curling about the back of his neck, gently tugging him closer until their lips were a mere hair's breadth apart. Holding it there with a teasing grin, feeling the subtle tremor rippling through the red and blue frame, Jazz finally crushed his mouth against Optimus's, kissing him deeply, gently probing his warm entrance with his glossa, humming with enjoyment when the affection was – after some tentative hesitation – reciprocated in kind.

Much to his surprise, Jazz suddenly found himself embraced tightly and pushed up against a nearby table, almost stumbling over a stool in the process, before they fell into a –thankfully unoccupied – booth, mouths locked, glossa entangled, the party around them forgotten as Optimus gladly made up for lost time.