Title: Frustrating Work
Characters: Prowl, Jazz
Summary: Prowl needs help with paperwork, but Jazz has been avoiding his fair share. The Praxian is surprised when Jazz shows up on his own for once.
Warnings: Hugging, nuzzling from Jazz, cuteness.
Notes: I don't own Transformers. Also, how's Jazz's accent?


Prowl sighed as he looked at all the paperwork that he and Jazz still had to do. Now, all he had to do was find the frustrating saboteur-who avoided paperwork as if it was the plague. Yes, Jazz positively hated paperwork, and he would rather scrub the brig's floor, walls, and ceiling multiple times than do even a small bit of said 'paperwork', but maybe he would show up on his own... Ah, an Autobot could daydream; though, that particular dream would never come true.

Prowl sighed again, murmuring after he did so, "Oh, Jazz, where are you? I really need your help with this!"

When he suddenly heard footsteps behind him, he tensed. Then, he heard a soft voice that he had not thought he would hear that day;

"Ah'm right here. Ya know, Prowl, if ya really needed the help, ya coulda jus' comm'ed meh and asked fer it..."

The gentle fingers that lightly pinched the very tips of his doorwings affirmed to him that the mech was indeed Jazz. However... As much relief and surprise as the actions gave him, the sudden pressure at said tips of said doorwings was so sudden that he had no chance to contain his reaction towards it.

Yelping, he jerked forwards, spinning around and then jumping backwards. His wings practically folded themselves behind his back when a tiny current of cold air flew across their surfaces. Near-white optics found their sights set on a confused, amused, but most concerned Jazz. Now trembling slightly, Prowl glared lightly at the other mech.

Losing the amusement of the situation rather quickly, Jazz adopted a rather pathetic look of apology, and murmured, "Sorry, didn't know tha' ya didn't know I am here..."

Forcing himself to stop trembling for Jazz's sake, Prowl muttered a soft word almost to himself, "Forgiven." Jazz seemed to be very relieved at that word. Glancing back to the blank data-pad in his hand, Prowl gave a tiny, abrupt smirk just before he suddenly chucked it at Jazz; stating, "And while you're here, you can do some paperwork."

The black-and-white mech yelped, but managed to catch the data-pad, knowing that Prowl hated it when they got broken. Looking at Prowl, his lower lip started quivering as he pouted; he rarely pouted. A tiny whine escaped his mouth.

Prowl sighed. Jazz really would do anything to escape paperwork duty (even at the cost of his precious dignity) but at least he looked... cute (in a childish way) while doing so. Looking away from the other mech, Prowl sighed slightly, knowing that he would break and not force Jazz to do his share of the paperwork if Jazz kept up with his pathetic display.

Resolutely, Prowl turned around to face the wall as he said furiously, "No, Jazz, you will do your fair share of paperwork; and you will do it today and tomorrow, not next eon, you lazy piece of trash." He crossed his arms.

He heard Jazz stutter and sigh, "Ah, Prowl, about the paperwork... Ah really am sorry 'bout all that stuff, but-"

Jazz was about to continue, but Prowl turned around to glare at the other black and white.

"Jazz, I may have forgiven you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you!"

Recoiling back as if he were shot by Megatron's fusion cannon, Jazz drooped at Prowl's words. He didn't have any real excuse for leaving his friend all the work.

Hesitantly, he said, "Ah'm really sorry. It's just... Ya know how Ah can't stand being still for too long; gets meh jittery and makes me feel as if I'm preparing to go on a mission."

Prowl's gaze softened, "While that is quite true, Jazz, I am certain that you could figure out a way to pace and write on a datapad at the same time. You have quite a talent for figuring things out."

A soft smile decorated Jazz's face, "Thanks, Prowl, for the compliment. Now, why don't ya and meh get to work on our datapads?"

"Actually, Jazz, why don't we head to my quarters so you can rest: you look so tired."

Jazz blinked at the concern in his friend's tone, then realized that Prowl had flawlessly seen through the facade he had put on. "But, Prowl," he started asking, "aren't yar datapads important?"

"Of course they are, Jazz, but you are more important to me than them. Why wouldn't you think so?"

Jazz was startled at Prowl's hurt tone, casting his helm down in shame at the words. He flinched back when he felt gentle arms wind around him, curling tight to his body despite the resistance he presented.

"I don't blame you for your words, Jazz. I know that I don't give you much of my attention-and certainly not enough for you to call me a friend, but thank you so much for reaching out to me, giving me a chance to gain confidence in my ability to communicate with others. It means so much to me."

"Prowl, Ah don't know what ta say. Yar're welcome, Ah guess, is all I can say," he murmured, curling his arms around Prowl's body to return the hug, nuzzling the other mech in happiness.