I got a request from [Anonymous] in my PM box just after chapter two! He didn't want me to say his name because... I don't know really. Embarrassment?

Rated: T for slash, m/m/m, Jazz being sexual a little and some mouth.

Summary: Ratchet just needs to relax and Jazz gets an idea, involving Prowl.

Ratchet had been working all day in his medical bay when he got a servo on his back. He wasn't really paying attention and the mech behind him decided to pat his back a little and rub circles on his back armor. Ratchet felt more the saw the servo go down and practically drag its thumb over his spinal strut in between his hip armor and ambulance head.

Ratchet shivered and arched his back away from the servo and the mech's appendage just left his back with all respect of his reaction. Ratchet turned his helm and saw one of his oldest friends, Wheeljack, leaning over him slightly.

"Sorry, Ratch," Wheeljack apologized and put his servos on his shoulders, "I just think you need to relax and for a mech to sweep you off your pede."

Ratchet looked back at Wheeljack and Wheeljack just chuckled, "Okay, I'm aiming for relaxation, the other can wait."

As Ratchet started to turned around, Wheeljack took a step back as he smiled at Ratchet's slightly tired glare. Ratchet had been awake and not refueling since the Autobots had been injured by the Decepticons at three o'clock in the morning this morning and it was six at night. He had finished all the Autobots at one this afternoon and has been upgrading, writing reports, cleaning tools, and all his fun medical junk he does ever since. And Ratchet's shift ended at two hours ago at four o'clock.

"Wheeljack, please don't hover over me," Ratchet said, "I'm not a sparkling and I have to finish everyone's data pads or Prowl will have my helm and Prime won't stop him!"

"Come of Ratchet," Wheeljack chuckled, "Prime is one of your best buddies, he wouldn't let Prowl get your helm on a platter."

"Are you you so sure?" Ratchet mumbled as he pulled a data pad over and began to type.

"Ratchet!" The Lancia called, "Your optics are flickering and you look like your barely standing!"

As Ratchet and Wheeljack bickered and complained, a certain saboteur was listening in on the old friends and he was beginning to get an idea. It wasn't much of an idea and he was going to have to get permissions for it from his lover and Prime for it and he would jump for joy to get a "yes" from both. He even knew that Prowl would love him even more after this!

Jazz had already gone to Prime with his request and he had said, after a while of thinking, that Jazz could go through with it but he had to consult with ALL of the mechs that Ratchet's known forever. Which included; Ironhide, Wheeljack, Perceptor, Beachcomber, Prowl (he was getting there), and maybe even Bumblebee if he still had the feeling of going around for permission. Optimus seemed skeptical about Jazz's plan for the doc and he said it was a strain on Ratchet's will but after some persuading (and some humiliating promises later) Prime was gracious enough to call all the mechs that he needed to his office and made them have a seat (Ironhide and Wheeljack just stood, they didn't have enough chairs).

Prowl, as he toke a seat, cast a look at Jazz (whom stood by Prime's left side) and frowned as the TiC smirked right back at him. Jazz never smirked like this unless he had a plan, a devious and sometimes pleasing plan, and he was just jumping for joy on the inside to tell it. Ironhide and Wheeljack were chit-chatting behind him on (guess it) Ratchet's latest struggle on paperwork and how he was not getting energon regularly. And the conversation stopped Beachcomber and Perceptor's conversation on uranium crystals (?) to join in on Ironhide's and Wheeljack's worry streak conversation. He just sat there, staring at Jazz, the saboteur never faltering in his smirk.

Prime cleared his throat after a while of just sitting there and when he got everyone's attention, he spoke, "It has come to my attention that of CMO has not been at his fullness health, and not only that, but is behind on his work because of so."

Ironhide and Wheeljack grunted at the Prime.

"I did not call you all here to tell you this is all about Ratchet's work and his medical performance, though we need that so," Prime grumbled that last part, "But I have called You here for a... special Jazz plan."

The "special Jazz plan" made the room suddenly be filled with different atmospheres, from confusion to curiosity.

"The plan ma' mechs is simple," Jazz said and his gaze burned into Prowl, "Ah just need permission ta follow through."

"What kind of "permission?"" Ironhide asked with a growl, "Ya better not be wantin' ta prank Ratch, or so help me Jazz-!"

"What, Ironhide means to say," Perceptor cut in, "Is what is your so called "special" plan for Ratchet is?"

Prime looked at the TiC and hummed his permission to say and Jazz smirked, "A little make out distraction."

Ironhide growled again, "What the frag Jazz?! Ya' tryin' to move in on Ratch now?!"

"No no!" Jazz said, holding his servos up in defense, "Ya got ta understand that Ah'm in one-hundred percent love with my dear Prowler, Ah would never go behind his back. And Ah would never move on a mech without at least talking to his bestest buddies, and it's not really a "move" Ironhide, Ah just want him to be distracted from his work, da' best way!"

Ironhide just growled softly as Wheeljack spoke, "So, your asking us if you can go and have a smooch with Ratchet?"

Jazz just nodded with a smile.

Wheeljack frowned under his mask then he grinned big and his helmlights flashed blue with happiness, "Okay, you have my word!"

"What?!" Ironhide yelled at the top engineer, "You accept this scrap the second he dishes it out?!"

Wheeljack just rolled his optics, "Come on 'Hide, you have to agree that Ratch hasn't been working at his best and he is tired and sluggish as he tries to finish the work had does have."

Ironhide didn't argue, but he didn't agree.

"I see the logic behind Wheeljack's conclusion," Perceptor said and looked at everyone, "Ratchet has been rejecting our care for his health and by what I hear, we've been asking him, arguing with him, forcing him, and ordering him. Why not try sweetening our approach, Jazz's plan seems logical..."

"Perceptor?!" Ironhide cried.

"... Jazz, you have my word also on your plan." Perceptor finished and smiled at Wheeljack.

"Hey, mechs," Beachcomber said and put his servo to his chin, "I actually think the idea is pretty solid! Ratch needs that break he's been denying for ages! Go get 'em Jazz!"

Ironhide growled at him too and looked like he was getting to flip the desk.

"Of course, this is a two mech job..." Jazz began again, "Ah was hoping my lovely assistant will help me?~"

Jazz made his visor glow bright and looked at Prowl sweetly for a few seconds before Prowl sighed.

"I will go as a chaperone to make sure you do nothing but relax him, I'll be the one to put the sedative inside him and put him in a drip," Prowl smiled softly, "I guess I just said I agree to your special operation."

Jazz began to fist-pump the air before he realized he got five out of six votes to go and do it, he looked to Ironhide, the arms specialists had his arms crossed and was frowning.

"Ironhide..." Jazz was about to say something when the red muscle mech smashed his fist on Prime's desk and startled everyone.

Prime was about to tell the weapons specialist off but Ironhide smirked and looked at Jazz fully, "Just don't pull a move on 'em. If you do and I hear about it, yer' a dead mech walking."

Everyone just stared at Ironhide and after a few moments of silence, Jazz smiled slowly and grabbed Prowl's servo and dragged him out of the office, leaving smiles and chuckles behind.

Ratchet growled as he was getting slowly done with Sideswipe's medical file on his recent arm replacement. The idiot red Lambo was even behind him, in a recharge as his arm was slowly stop throbbing and hurting, he didn't want the idiot to gripe and groan at him for his stupidity.

Sideswipe had decided to pull a prank on the Dinobots and Sunstreaker, being a smart little aft he was, had not joined his twin. Sideswipe had painted all the Dinobots aft with the pink words "Mate me" and had glued Grimlock's jaw shut and wrote "No aft eater" on it, and by the tears and pulled muscles and metal in Grimlock's jaw line, he had tried to pull his mouth open. And by the scars on the Dinobots aft, they just taken the prank on its pleasant side (Grimlock must have been on the bad side).

When he had fixed the leader Dinobots jaw and got rid of all the glue on the edges, Grimlock had stormed out in full on rage screaming, "Kill puny red twin!" And when he came back, be dumped Sideswipe into a heap of all his body parts pulled off his body and his left arm chewed to pieces. To say he was infuriated at the high ego Dinobot was a understanding. But all he could do was ground the Dinobot to his cave for a long time.

Finally, he had some piece and quiet from the idiots he called his friends. He gave a shuttered sigh as he finally saw an alarm flare in his HUB, it practically told him to relax or his remaining energon levels would deplete.

He stopped moving his digits across the keys on his computer when he felt a servo massage it's digits over his medic crosses and bit a little bit of his lower lip when the body pressed against his back. It was Wheeljack, he told himself. Wheeljack, who's trying to get him to relax and energize.

But Wheeljack had given up and he said he was going to get get some energon and have a meeting with Prime.

The body flush against his back was warm and lithe but large, the servos running over his shoulders moved in between his shoulder blades and neck cables and massaged slowly the muscles and hummed as he shivered. No bot had touched him like this in some time and he was happy (what the frag?) that his neck and arms gave a satisfied hiss and stopped creaking as the digits digged into his armor like lava or molasses. Ratchet moaned as all kinks and stiffness were dragged out of his upper body as he was leaning against the large mech. Ironhide?

The servos stopped massaging as they ran down his frame, making a pit stop to play with him ambulance head's windshield and headlights. Oh PRIMUS! Those were sensitive and it was very hard not to practically melt into the touch as he was toyed with. He looked down to see black servos instead of red playing with his chest instead of red. Not Ironhide, maybe Perceptor?

But then the thoughts acquired to him as he was caressed and fondled. Before he began thinking, the servos went down to massage his hips and the right mystery servo toke his right servo and massaged the Palm and digits. The two servo alternated. He began to think as his body gave in; Wheeljack was at a meeting, Ironhide definitely wasn't hear, and Perceptor wouldn't invade his personal space for a single reason other then to save him. And he knew no other mech who would be doing this to him. So the question shook him... Who was running there servos all over him?

He suddenly got his strength back and pulled away from the warm frame and the room made his frame cold from where the heat left him. He looked back to see Jazz standing there, servos still held in the spots they had been harassing him and his visor dark in some emotion he must have had and he was frowning.

"Jazz! What the frag!" Ratchet called as he pressed his front against the computer.

"Well, you haven't been recharging and refueling regularly for you to be healthy, so..." Jazz motioned to his frame.

"So you come in my med-bay and seduce me!" Ratchet cried.

"Woah," Jazz said as he looked at Ratchet, pointing a digit at the medic, "Don't read too much in it! Ah got permission from all officers to simply get ya ta rest, not to give you m' sparkling!"

The last sentence made someone make a noise in the back of their throats. Hey... It wasn't Jazz and it wasn't him, he was sure of that. He looked pass Jazz and saw a white and black decorated doorwing hit his optics and a red small chevron come to view as well. Oh Primus! Prowl was watching them and he was just sitting there!

"Prowl!" Was all Ratchet could say as he turned as pressed his back against the computer consul.

Jazz turned around a little, not fully, and hummed as he turned back to Ratchet, "Huh, so you did stay ta watch, sweetspark!"

"I have to. I'm the chaperone," Prowl said with no emotion as always.

Chaperone?! What would Jazz need someone watching him-?!

Suddenly, there were servos on each side of his console and himself as he found the meister pinned him to his own computer and he pressed close the medics body. The speedsters frame practically pinned him against the machine and he let his servos wonder the medic's petite frame, his black wandering the abyss of white that was the medic. Ratchet began to try to struggle against the saboteur but the roaming digits were going everywhere, making him stand still in place and shiver.

The black digits roamed his stomach and arms as they lowered to his hips and massaged the red delicate aft sides. Ratchet began to breath harder as Jazz just kept looking for exposed seems in his hips until a sudden blaring high-pitched noise interrupted Jazz's assault. They both looked to Prowl and he had a whistle in his mouth.

"To intimate." Was all Prowl said as he looked between the two.

Jazz just sighed and looked at Prowl, not moving his hips from Ratchet's, "Come on Prowl, you saw the look on his face to! You have to have looked at it and felt something!"

"Jazz, and I hearing what Ironhide threatened you about?" Prowl said as he spinned his whistle in a circle with his index digits, "And what about not going behind my back?"

"Prowl, sweetling, my baby," Jazz said and rest his servos on Ratchet's hips again, "You are my everything! I swear! But look at him..."

Jazz looked down at Ratchet as well as Prowl following his gaze.

"... He's so cute, squirming below me and my servos. His body trapped simply by my hips and his whimpers and groans are... exhilarating." With that, Jazz kissed him.

Jazz mumbled something against his lips but he didn't let the kiss end simply for words. Ratchet was shocked that Jazz's lips were pressed to his own and his glossa prodded at his lips, but not asking for entrance. Ratchet shivered as he heard, not Jazz, but Prowl moan from his spot across the room from them, beside the unconscious Sideswipe.

Jazz let go of his hip when he knew Ratchet wasn't going to run or strike him, and trailed his servos up Ratchet's frame and onto his face. One servo was on Ratchet's hip and the other rested on the old bots face, holding him to kiss him deep.

He was about to kiss Jazz back but the meister moved away and someone else was kissing him, he knew he was being kissed by someone else because his face was grabbed by two servos and dragged to the left. He turned his optics on (not even realizing he turned them off) and saw Prowl was now kissing him, his optics were closed tight and his doorwings were held low. Prowl looked like he was fighting someone while he kissed him. Ratchet chuckled and kissed Prowl back, the tactician running his servos to the back of Ratchet's helm and pulled his lips closer to him.

Ratchet began to stick his glossa to Prowl's lips when he felt something stick into his arm, making him feel more tired and heavier then usual. Four arms caught him and two of them handed him over to the other duo, and suddenly, he was sweep off his pede as he fell unconscious.

"Jazz, what the frag?!" Prowl said as he looked at his black and white lover.

"Well, since it your job to inject him and put him to sleep," Jazz watched Prowl flinched, "So I guessed I might as well do it before one of you asked for a spike."

Prowl just blushed and he watched Jazz straighten Ratchet up in his arms. Jazz had been handed Ratchet because out of both of them, Jazz could carry Ratchet the easiest. Ratchet was laying bridal style against Jazz's chassis and Jazz walked to the closest berth and laid Ratchet down. Prowl was by Jazz's side in seconds, putting the drip on Ratchet and making sure Ratchet really was under.

Jazz leaned up and kissed Prowl's lips and he ran his servos down the tacticians back until they came to rest where back meet aft.

"Ironhide's gonna kill ma..." Jazz said as he kissed him again.

"He's going to kill us both." Prowl said softly and sat on the berth Ratchet was resting on and he ran his servo over Ratchet's ambulance head.

"Your in love...?" Jazz asked as he watched Prowl caress the medic.

Prowl chuckled and looked back at Jazz, "So are you, Mr. Greedy."

Jazz just laughed and kissed Prowl softly and he bent over to kiss Ratchet's dark grey, almost black, chevron.

The questions still stand from last chapters, remember the reward.

R & R