To Woo a Datsun

Transformers (G1) Verse
Rating: PG
Characters: Jazz, Prowl

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. There. I said it. So don't try to sue me.

A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate the feedback and your reactions. Hopefully you will enjoy the next part. :)

Attempt 3 – The Road Less Traveled…and there's a reason for that!

With the 'safer' options in the slag heap, Jazz had no choice, but to up the ante on his arsenal.

"Come on, Sunny. You haven't got much else goin' on today AND you owe me for that little stint you and Sides tried to pull yesterday. Ya know?"

The strangest site greeted any of the Ark's inhabitants who happened to be wandering the halls outside the rank and file barracks in the early hours of the day. Jazz—Third in Command of the Autobots and Head of Special Ops—was whining. And not just at any mech. The black and white was whining at the notorious king (or "queen" if you listened to Sideswipe and didn't value your chassis) of whining in the Ark—the beautiful and dangerous frontliner, Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker, for his part, was not impressed by the officer's attempts to win his favor.

"Why does that mean I have to switch you patrols, Jazz? And my name is 'Sunstreaker'." He growled the last part and his optics took on a particularly unpleasant glint.

Jazz backed off slightly and placated, "Sunstreaker. Sorry, ma mech. I really need to take your patrol today, but I tell ya what - you can have your choice from any of my patrol shifts for the rest of the week. No complaints."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed, their color already a lighter tint of blue reflecting his agitated state, "Yeah, but why my shift? There isn't anything exactly spectacular about it."

Jazz exhaled a bit from his vents before starting again. "Look Sunstreaker, I need to take your shift, okay? Just this one time - I'll even throw in a get out of the brig free card." Jazz was pretty sure that he was grinding his denta in frustration by now. Sunstreaker was really making this more difficult than it needed to be. He was also being a complete aft – something the yellow mech was quite good at being with everyone else, but typically was not toward him.

Sunstreaker stopped suddenly, smirking, "If you wanted to patrol with Prowl so much, you should have just said so." The black and white's jaw dropped like a trap door while the frontliner crossed his arms over his chest in victory. Jazz quickly tried to put an end to the shiny, yellow Lamborghini's thinking.

"I dunno what you are gettin' at Sunny. I just have a few things to go over with Prowl. Ya' know? Patrol assignments and such?" The saboteur tried for his most serious expression and threw in his 'officer' stance for good measure.

Sunstreaker merely barked out a laugh and shook his head. "Whatever, Jazz. Take my shift. Just make sure whatever you are going to do works within the next decacycle. I have credits riding on you two hooking up by then." As the shorter mech was once again struck speechless, Sunstreaker merely shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and walked passed the unmoving saboteur. "Be sure to fry his logic circuits a bit too, while you are at it!" He threw over his shoulder as a parting gift, along with a wave of his servo.

Jazz slowly unfroze, shaking his helm once before heading in the opposite direction of the snarky (and far too knowing) frontliner.

---- : | ----

To say that Prowl was unsurprised that his patrol partner was not on time would be a far stretch. He was entirely too used to the lackaday attitude of the twins to let their behavior ruffle his proverbial feathers too much. To say that the tactician was surprised to see Jazz approaching him from the Ark's entrance, wide smile and confident swagger in tow…might be an accurate statement.

Or perhaps even an understatement.

Preparing for the bad news (such as Sunstreaker being in the brig for his usual aggravated assault), Prowl merely took a nice deep, calming breath and faced the saboteur fully.

"Jazz."

"Prowl."

"I do not suppose that you know where Sunstreaker is at the moment?"

"Well, I don't know where he is, but ya don't need to worry about him."

Prowl's optic ridge twitched...ever so slightly. "And why is that, Jazz?"

"I'm covering this shift for him." At the tactician's dubious look, the saboteur felt the need to elaborate. "I owed him one and my evening is free, so…here we are." It was mostly the truth, anyways.

Prowl merely gave him the look of one resigned to some horrid fate before nodding in acquiescence. Without another word, he transformed into his alternative mode and turned toward the road, engine idling.

Jazz pouted slightly at that. It wasn't as if he was an unpleasant guy to be around – especially compared to having a patrol shift with Sunstreaker. No need for the police car to act all put-out by his sudden appearance. Shaking his head once to clear his processors, Jazz's optic band took on a glint of determination before he transformed as well, speeding past the waiting Datsun.

The Porsche laughed lightly at the indignant "Hey!" from his fellow black and white, fishtailing as he slowed down and coincidently shaking the aft of his alt mode, as Prowl caught up to him.

"It is always extremes with you, isn't it, Jazz?" Prowl commented casually about 20 or so minutes later as they drove peacefully alongside each other on the empty highway. The sun had not set yet, but was playing along the horizon. Its reds and golds reflecting on the mostly white chassis of the tactician, dancing like flames. Jazz couldn't help, but think it was a sight that he was not going to be forgetting anytime soon.

He chuckled and, feeling adventurous, nudged his bumper playfully into the Datsun's before replying, "Sometimes it's just easier to zag then zig, Prowler." He heard Prowl sigh at the infamously accursed nickname. He knew that if they had been in root mode, the SIC's optics would have been rolling in exasperation. But he didn't mind. Not one bit.

The whoosh and heat of a laser scoring across his spoiler, though, was a completely different matter. Both Autobots went wide to the side as another set of laser fire peppered the ground between them where they had previously been. Slamming on his brakes and hearing Prowl do the same, Jazz skid to a halt along the road and quickly reverted to root mode. Both bots held weapons aloft and waited for another strafing run from the seeker.

The black outline approaching quickly from the West resolved itself into three forms, as it grew closer.

"Starscream and his Trine. Damn." Jazz gritted out through his denta. He heard Prowl quickly radio the situation back to base as he looked around quickly for a more defensible position. With the steep wall of the canyon on one side and the scenic drop-off on the other, they were pretty much stuck out in the open.

"Incoming!" Prowl yelled before dodging to the inside this time, subsequently pushing Jazz out of the line of fire. He heard the ping ping of rounds hitting metal and saw Prowl wince slightly before straightening up. "We need to be careful, or they will bring the whole mountainside down upon us."

"So, what's the plan sarge?" Jazz asked the SIC as he let loose a quick volley at Thundercracker's belly as the jet passed low overhead. The sound wave that followed him had both Autobots clutching their audios and ducking down amongst the dust and debris.

"We need to find cover and hold them off long enough for Ironhide and his team to get here." Prowl yelled at his fellow black and white over the roar of jet engines. "ETA 15 minutes."

"Good thing we have so many options, eh?" He grinned lopsided at the mech in battle stance next to him.

"Indeed." The side of Prowl's mouth quirked into a small smile, their gazes locking for a moment. Jazz felt his spark pulse stop at the simple beauty of such an expression on the Datsun's face. It was simply mesmerizing to the third how the subtlest of the second's expressions could hold so much depth. At the same time it was frustrating as well since such outward emotions from Prowl were few and far between, leaving him waiting with baited breath for the next rare treat.

A rumbling sound reached his audio horns and Jazz knew that they had little time until the next attack.

And just like that, inspiration struck.

"Alrighty then. Might as well try taking out 'Screamer or one of his crew. Even up the odds a little." With that said, Jazz quickly sidestepped so that he was positioned directly in front of Prowl. The saboteur saw the tactician's mouth open, probably to question his thinking, but he did not give him the chance to ask. A quick reflexive command and both of his hip panels retracted and a pair of modified speakers popped out in sync.

"You may want to cover your audios for this, Prowler." He turned down the gain in his own audio horns and felt his faceplates stretch into a more feral grin of battle lust just before subsonic noise pounded in a rush of energy from his systems. Skywarp, who had just warped quite close to them for a more direct attack, received the brunt of the wave. The jet bucked and twisted before veering to the side with a cry of his own, nearly taking his wing off on a tree top.

"Ha!" Jazz felt energized at the victory and angled himself towards the next jet making its rounds.

It might have worked too, if Starscream hadn't decided to transform midflight, aiming a sizable-looking, non-standard missile at the two Autobots. Jazz felt Prowl grab his arm to pull him back and away, but it was already too late.

The last thing that the black and white saboteur experienced was the white streak of a missile impacting at his feet and a wash of heat and flame searing his chassis.

At least Prowl had been behind him.

---- : | ----

One would think that because of Jazz's courageous and completely selfless act, Prowl would finally come to realize how much he meant to the saboteur and (of course) in turn, how deeply in love Prowl was with the TIC. At least, that would have been the optimum and Jazz's preferred result from all of this mayhem. Particularly after said heroic act ended in him having to endure a night of Ratchet's 'tender' ministrations and the steady ache of a chassis rebuild he had had to recharge with. Slag, he would have been happy to just have awoken with Prowl seated in his vicinity, patiently waiting for him to online.

But what did he awaken to? No. Prowl.

Too much to ask the maker for apparently.

Jazz onlined to the garish orange ceiling of the medbay the next morning with nothing, but empty berths and the steady beep of equipment by his berth to keep him company. Primus, he would have been happy with a "Get Well Soon" card from the tactician duct-taped to his helm.

How could something so simple and straightforward go to the pit so quickly? Oh yeah – Decepticons. Fraggin stupid-aft bots with no respect for a saboteur's well-intended seduction attempts.

Reaching black fingertips under his visor, Jazz rubbed tiredly at his optics to try to relieve the pressure that he felt building behind them. It couldn't be a coincidence. This was twice that he had been thwarted in his attempts to confess his undying love to Prowl—not counting some of the minor, generic stuff that he tried early on in the wooing process.

There had to be some other road that he could take, but what?

With a grunt from the effort of heaving his achy and still slightly sedated body, Jazz shifted to make his escape from the medbay, only to inadvertently draw the attention of one lurking medic.

Frag.

Seriously. Did Primus hate him?