Unable to hide it any longer, Jazz gave Prowl what he demanded despite the knot forming in his stomach. "The mech's name was Blacksmoke…" Cringing, Jazz fought off the desire to look away from Prowl. This was not how he wanted to break the news to Prowl.
"How did you know that mech?" The sharpness in Prowl's voice nearly sliced the surrounding air in half as he questioned his 'friend'. Based on Jazz's hesitance and expression, Prowl knew that Jazz knew that name had meaning to Prowl. If keeping this from him wasn't part of Jazz's idea of betrayal, then how could Prowl trust the mech before him to keep his secrets?
"He was one of our most experienced Ops mech and there were times I needed to rely on someone with that much knowledge, particularly during operations in the older parts of Cybertron."
"I see. Where is he now?" Although he remained still as a statue, Prowl was nearly livid. To know that Blacksmoke had been underneath Jazz's watch this entire time was infuriating, to say the least.
"Buried in the Praxian cemetery," Jazz reluctantly answered, regretting how his oversight had completely ruined everything good that happened. Knowing that Prowl had a tendency to lash inward when he received bad news, Jazz carefully watched Prowl's face for any clues on how the mech was handling the news.
Taken by surprise at the Jazz's reply as to his creator's whereabouts, Prowl stared at Jazz in disbelief. Unable to remain still any longer, Prowl pushed himself out of the chair as he spoke. "Well then, good riddance, save for the loss of the benefits of an 'experienced mech.'"
"He died in a Decepticon attack on the old temple in Iacon," Jazz quickly interjected before Prowl could walk away.
Prowl stopped in mid step, immediately catching the implication of Jazz's words. "How?"
"By taking a blow from Starscream meant for his offline superior." Anxiously, Jazz waited as he watched Prowl's back for any visible response. The tactician's doorwings began to quiver as his shoulder's tensed up. However, despite these signs, Prowl still hadn't reacted. Knowing the consequences of his actions, Jazz decided to not hold back from the mech any longer. Prowl had to deal with the emotions, whether he wanted to or not. "His last words were about his sparkling and how happy he was that he could at least do one thing right for him, and that his sparkling had grown to become a good mech."
Jazz's words brought forth an onslaught of emotions that Prowl hadn't expected and his knees buckled as the shock, grief, confusion, and pain came crashing into him full force. Jazz leaped forward and managed to catch Prowl before he hit the table, pulling the limp mech back to the chair so that he could hold him in a loose embrace.
"Why didn't you tell me about that?" Prowl cried out, completely bewildered at the prospect that the object he channeled most of his anger at was no longer activated. Not only that, but Blacksmoke's last act and words were the complete opposite of what Prowl had held against his sparker. After his graduation from the academy he had made a point to never search for Blacksmoke, deciding that Blacksmoke's existence should be no more meaningful to him as his was to his sparker. Now, he was learning that Blacksmoke's very existence was the reason he still functioned, and that Blacksmoke may have been watching him from afar. Perhaps even cared for him.
"I pretty much just found out. I was waiting for the right time to tell you." Jazz tried to soothe the upset mech but Prowl fought to get out of Jazz's embrace.
Instinctively Prowl tried to analyze the news and push himself away to do so, only to realize that he didn't have support once he succeeded. Prowl caught the corner of the short table and held tried to keep upright but his arms felt weak. Without his logic center to analyze everything, Prowl felt completely lost and alone.
Suddenly he felt a warm presence wrap itself around him and pulled him gently back to the chair. Numbly, Prowl looked up and saw Jazz, who was gently holding him while quietly speaking reassuring words. They sat like that for several more breems until Jazz's comfort had managed to coax Prowl into talking.
"I don't know why, but I find it difficult to believe that he's deactivated. I never cared for him but somehow I'm still upset to know he's no longer functional. Especially like that. He never did anything kind while he was a part of my life and then he saves my life by sacrificing his? And while he lays there dying, he says that he's proud of me and he's happy that he could save me? It's just not logical," Prowl muttered, vaguely aware that he was speaking aloud. Between the pain he never expected from Blacksmoke's death, the return of Conex, and the trouble he'd been enduring back at the Ark, Prowl felt like shutting down.
Despite Jazz's loss for words to help Prowl, the saboteur badly wanted to help his friend. He knew the tactician's suffering was made worse by the fact that he would never have any closure with Blacksmoke. Perhaps Jazz could help him have some closure if Prowl was willing to talk about it some more. "What was he like when you knew him?"
"He was tough because he wanted to mold me into the perfect Enforcer. He was very rigid and often angry. Usually I disappointed him because I did not show much potential to be Enforcer."
Confused by the response, Jazz asked for Prowl to elaborate. "I thought the academy accepted your enrollment as an Enforcer. Wouldn't that mean you did have potential?"
"I studied rigorously before the academy and developed that potential. However, all of that took place after Blacksmoke left," Prowl clarified.
"So you did what he wanted even without him there?" Jazz wondered about that time when they were both attending the academy. There was so much he didn't know about Prowl back then and it wasn't until now that he realized how much he should've tried learning about. Although they attended the academy together, they rarely saw each other since special operations did not train with tacticians. Neither did they do a lot of work with Enforcers.
"Prowl, I've always wondered why you changed your field of expertise to tactical. Why did you apply to be an Enforcer if your reason to be an Enforcer wasn't even around? During our short time together before the academy I could see that you had a talent for the more logistics stuff, so I always wondered why you made that first choice."
'Not talent, an unfair – and so-called 'illegal' – advantage,' Prowl silently corrected, remembering Ratchet's words. "I started out as an Enforcer because there were certain things I was looking for that I thought the Enforcer path would be the most logical pursuit. As time went on, however, I found out that I was wrong and my secondary studies seemed more fitting."
"Why wasn't the Enforcer path fitting?"
"It just wasn't." With a sigh, Prowl pulled out of Jazz's embrace and readjusted his position to sit more comfortably, slightly apart from Jazz.
"Come on, Prowl," Jazz could see that Prowl was mentally pulling away from him and tried to stop him. "Don't shut me out now. This is something that clearly still bothers you, or else you wouldn't have moved away."
'Count on Jazz to know body language,' Prowl privately groaned. What was he to say? How he'd had difficulty connecting to others and his awkwardness was only magnified when surrounded by his peers? The friction caused by his inability to fully comprehend his teammates' behaviors grew and he had been alienated even in group projects. The only time he found joy was during his logistics studies, which he usually did in solitude, and these differences eventually drove him to make the switch. In fact, by the time he'd finally met up with Jazz again, Jazz had joked that he hardly recognized him because Prowl had changed so much.
"I had very few friends and the Enforcer career requires a certain mindset and bonds that I was unable to comprehend. Eventually I switched to tactician because it felt more appropriate for my skills and a lack of interest in their idea of 'team building.'"
Jazz nodded. "Ah. Makes sense."
"Why is that? Does it make sense because I don't participate in off-duty activities around here?" Prowl felt almost defensive with Jazz's laid back acceptance of the explanation.
"No, I actually didn't even think of that. I don't think anyone seriously considered you a social mech when we were at the academy, Prowl. You weren't at the parties and even the geekier mechs said you were a loner."
"When did you talk to these 'geekier mechs' about me?"
With a slight frown, Jazz recalled the unusual situation where it had come up. "Do you remember the 'Geek Attack' on campus, as the warrior class called it? I do; I was at a party when the news broke and the warriors and some others were quick to make fun of it. I guess it was their way to keep a good party from being soured by the grisly story and high-grade induced panic. Anyway, I left the party to see if you were alright since no one knew the name of the victim, and I ran into several of your classmates. I asked where you were and one of them said you were around the science dormitories. Some other mech jumped in and said that you should be with the victim since you two were seeing each other exclusively. The first one said that it didn't matter since you were never serious anyways. Everyone was pretty much still panicking at that point, though, so I wouldn't reach too much into that if I were you."
"I see." Prowl frowned. 'Hypocrites. I wasn't the only one who preferred a logical approach.' Despite shedding some light on a few things, Prowl did not want to talk about it. "I'm surprised you remember that event so well, given that the Decepticons have attacked our troops far worse. Regardless, its ancient history now and the mech survived, albeit with some memory loss."
"Well yeah it was pretty long ago, but it was the first time I ever worried about you."
"You remember something so old because of me? Even though we were distance friends when it happened?" Prowl was amazed by the genuine concern, which was something he didn't deserve.
"Of course I remember. It was a freaky story back then. It was the first time a student had been critically injured and the culprit was never found. My roommate was afraid to recharge after that! Don't you remember how freaked out everyone was?" Jazz asked incredulously.
"I remember," Prowl absently responded. Truth was that orn was seared into his mind forever, although he rarely thought about it. It had started out innocently enough with his partner pushing him into going to a social event; probably the one Jazz had been at. The mech had been pressuring Prowl into going and even tried pulling him out the door. The mech kept saying over and over, "Do you want to be the saddest mech here? Why don't you ever try to make friends? You never go out and hang with the others. What's wrong with you?" before concluding that he would do his 'duty' by making Prowl go no matter what. Prowl asked him to quit pulling and insulting him but he was ignored. Then the mech had tried tugging on Prowl's doorwing, except the mech hadn't realized how sensitive the appendages were. The next thing Prowl knew, the offending hand was lying crumpled on the floor in pieces and the mech's vocal unit was across the floor. He'd called security immediately and jammed the mech's polishing cloth into the wound to slow down the bleeding before making his escape.
Prowl hadn't deserved Jazz's concern, and he still didn't. The mech had survived, with minor permanent damage, but Prowl had never truly made it up to him or repented. Somehow his logic center had convinced him it wasn't relevant. 'That's wrong. Why did I think that?' Prowl frowned as he pondered why on Cybertron that he would so willingly think along the terms.
"Now that we're loosely on the subject of you disappearing whenever I look for you, where have you been hiding these past few decaorns?" Jazz inquired.
"Around." A small mischievous smile fleeted across Prowl's face before his expression returned to its normal neutrality. He rather enjoyed his little secret and wouldn't give it up so easily.
"Ah come on, Prowl! Don't hold out on me." Jazz begged, his interest rapidly growing.
"I've told you plenty for now. Besides, I need to have something to myself to enjoy."
"Ah come on, Prowl," Jazz whined. "This is so wrong. You never go out or hang with the other troops, but you'll hide away at work for entertainment? That's so messed up!" Jazz teased, fully expecting Prowl's usual banter about how breaking an axel on another joy ride was hardly entertainment.
However, in light of the past the saboteur had unknowingly dredged up, Jazz's innocent tease only served to alarm Prowl as he caught the similarities between Jazz's words and the words his ill-fated lover spoke. Perhaps this was a bad idea. Even with his logic center out of commission, Prowl knew what it would tell him: that Jazz and that mech shared several important factors – factors that were the key in the unexpected attack. They were both social, outgoing mechs and they always tried to get Prowl to 'lighten up.' They even shared similar techniques. Prowl's logic center would be warning him right now that he was allowing a dangerous situation to unfold.
However, just like he had everything else on his mind, and Ratchet's earlier words weren't an exception. Yes, his logic center would be telling him that Jazz was a liability, but in absence of the nearly-continuous feedback he received from it, Prowl could feel a different answer in his spark. Was this what Ratchet meant by learning to value what his logic center did not?
Realizing that Jazz was staring at him curious, Prowl quickly spoke up. "No, it doesn't seem wrong to me, Jazz, and it shouldn't seem wrong to you. At least when it comes from me."
Instantly Jazz dropped the act. "Of course, Prowl. I would never seriously expect you to change. Even if we do end up communicating more openly, I wouldn't expect you to do the same for everyone else."
Relief washed over Prowl. Jazz and that other mech were the same in many regards, and yet none of those similarities seemed to matter. Would that be the critical difference? Could Prowl be close to Jazz and trust himself to never hurt Jazz, just as Jazz promised that Prowl could trust that Jazz would never hurt him? "Perhaps I really do need to listen to my logic center less," Prowl mused; unaware he'd spoken the last part aloud.
"Huh?" Jazz looked at Prowl strangely.
"What?"
"You just said that you need to list to your logic center less. You feeling okay, Prowl? Did Ratchet do something to you?" Jazz was almost worried about the uncharacteristic comment that came out from nowhere.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. But I'm starting to think it was the right call – don't tell him that." Prowl thought back on everything that had happened and how his logic center had guided him through it. That internal report generated after ConAir's attack was the perfect example. He had chosen the equipment's logic and its answers above his own because he had come to rely on it for every aspect of his life, even for things it had no true knowledge about. Prowl remembered that he'd valued the report because it was the first one the logic center could generate on its own in these matters, afraid that his own edits to the parameters might contaminate the results.
Contaminate the results by including his personal input? Had he truly allowed the logic center to 'warp' him so much, as Ratchet said, that he would classify his own input as contamination? Especially in matters like this? The avoidance of others, the attack on his ex-lover, and his solidarity were all brought on by his logic center's concept of truth and logical choices. Did he have his own answers, his own truth, or did he leave even that to the logic center?
Jazz had meant so much more to him than anyone else. How could he hurt him? Prowl looked down to see Jazz's hand resting comfortably on Prowl's arm, something he hadn't even noticed before now. His logic center would deem this an unnecessary risk – that his response to Jazz's touch was a variable that could weaken his stability. Did Prowl really have that little of faith in himself, that he would chose to remain in place and allow life to pass by him because that's what the results said to do? Perhaps it was time to take control of his life and not remain passively in place, allowing decisions to be made for him.
"Jazz, there is something you need to know." Despite the gravity in Prowl's voice, Jazz was eager to move closer so Prowl had his full attention. "My sparklinghood was not normal, by any stretch of means. While I've never considered someone's sparklinghood an important factor before, I suspect this assumption has been inaccurate. For instance, I've had my logic center since early sparklinghood and Ratchet has informed me that can be… a life-altering upgrade."
Underneath his visor, Jazz's optics flew open. "Whoa, you mean – "
"Yes; I've had my logic center longer than the other tacticians you've worked with during this war, which probably explains a few things. Because of that I have come to rely on it as if it truly was a piece of me. My logic center has often informed me when it would be logical to keep quiet because there isn't a more logical action available. Now I'm beginning to consider the possibility that my decision to follow a piece of equipment was the real illogical decision. I can't promise that I won't fall back into old habits, but I would like to make my own decisions on living my life. I would very much like your help with the matter. That is, if you are willing to put up with my tendencies and our differences," Prowl was almost rigid with fear while he wanted for Jazz's reply to his – not his logic center's – request for Jazz to be a bigger part of his life.
Nearly overjoyed by the request, Jazz visibly peaked up as he grinned. "Of course, Prowl. You may be stubborn and difficult, but so am I and I love a good challenge." With a light laugh, Jazz nudged Prowl to show that he was only kidding about considering Prowl a challenge.
"Thank you, Jazz." A small smile appeared as Prowl listened to Jazz's warm laugh.
"Not a problem, Prowl. But may I make a suggestion on what to start with?"
"Of course."
"You might want to patch things up with your brothers. Especially Bluestreak."
Internally Prowl grimaced. "I had forgotten how far I'd pushed him away since onlining. I hope I haven't caused too much damage."
"I doubt it. Blue loves ya too much."
"That's true, he does," Prowl mused before something else caught his attention. "Wait – why do you think I need to patch things up with Smokescreen as well?"
"Uh, well, it's not something you've done, per say…" Jazz laughed again, feeling a bit awkward as he stumbled with his words as he tried to tactfully explain his comment. "It's just, well, uh… well let me answer that question with another question I've had for like the last joor: why haven't you asked me how I knew that Blacksmoke's name meant anything to you?"
Dumb folded by having completely missed that suspicious piece of fact, given that the only Cybertronians that knew his relation to Blacksmoke were long since deactivated, Prowl stared back. "I can't believe I overlooked that. Perhaps I'm not so good without my logic center," Prowl weakly joked. "How did you know that about Blacksmoke?"
"Hey, you might be ten times better than your logic center if I wasn't throwing curve balls at you right after another operation. You can't always catch everything, you know, unless you're me." Jazz teased. "But seriously, you should talk to Smokescreen. He's the reason why I know that Blacksmoke was your sparker. Primus above, I honestly didn't know about the connection between you two before he blurted it out."
Stunned by the revelation that the family 'secret' wasn't restricted to just him and his creators, Prowl nearly stuttered, "What? How could he possibly know that?" Realization dawned on him as soon as the words left his vocalizer. "They spoke on the battlefield at the temple."
"Yeah, Blacksmoke pretty much died in Smokescreen's arms. Talk about messed up family dynamics. He's been more or less plagued by that and he needs to get it off his chest. Blue should know too. But uh, don't mention that I knew Blacksmoke outside of what Smokescreen told me. I figure its best to keep things on the DL for a while – at least until you've figured out what you want them to know." 'And no one is supposed to really know about him. How it was over looked that he was the sparker of the SIC I slagging don't know,' Jazz grumbled as he thought about which incompetent worker in his division missed that information.
"Why does Bluestreak need to know as well?"
"Remember how you said that your family had expectations of you that you responded by pushing others away? Well, I think that you need to move past that and let Blue in, at least in that regard. All Blue wants is companionship and you telling him something personal would give him more than a simple apology ever could."
"I suppose. I should give him more than an apology, given how I've been acting. Somehow though, I suspect the conversation will be handled a little less well as this one has been, with the exception of a few rough patches."
"Kinda goes with the territory. Anyway, that's great. I know that Blue would love to talk to you. In fact, he's probably looking for you by now." Although Jazz wanted to stay longer, the thought of a worried Bluestreak running around base in a frantic search for Prowl stopped him from being selfish and keeping Prowl all to himself. "I guess I shouldn't hold you up any longer. The sooner you two talk the better." Jazz climbed out of the chair to leave.
"Wait!" Prowl stopped Jazz in mid-climb before he knew what he was saying. "Uh…" Prowl tried to find something to say to keep Jazz with him, but he couldn't think of anything. He had decided to fully reject that report from the attack but it also contained data that it had presented as signs of Jazz's affections for him. Should he fully reject the report? He was free to decide what he did with the information given to him.
"Jazz, why do you do all these things for me? Hunting me down on the battlefield to make sure I'm okay, rescuing me despite orders to not leave medbay, and now this. Why do you do these things?"
"Well because I care about you – since you are a friend. I mean, you are too much of an important friend for me to not do these things." Jazz weakly offered, trying not to put himself in a situation he wasn't sure how to handle.
"I see." Frowning, Prowl chewed over those words, trying to dissect them carefully. "An important friend… would you do these things for Blaster or Bumblebee?"
"What? I suppose… I dunno. I've never really thought about it."
"But you've made a point with me to do these things." Prowl pointed out.
"Uh, yeah, I guess…" Jazz was at a loss for words. He knew he wanted something special with Prowl but he didn't know exactly what or how far. What about the consequences? Just trying to compute all the different consequences hurt his head. Normally Jazz wasn't afraid of consequences, but there were some consequences too high even for him. Somehow pushing the limits with Prowl was too high for him while infiltrating Megatron's base to screw with the Decepticon army wasn't. 'Primus, I've got issues.' Jazz mentally groaned. Maybe he should take his issues to another room and figure them out.
Prowl watched Jazz as the TIC silently tormented himself. Normally Jazz was a hard read, but he had been teaching Prowl had to read others for a while now. While Prowl was not good at it, he had built his learning experiences around Jazz. Right now he could tell Jazz was uncomfortable, but he couldn't tell how, why, or how much. Should he try building his own report and figure out if the old report was right? No, that would lead him right back to his old habits. Should he ask? Ask what? Prowl was plagued with ideas of how to deal with the tense moment only to realize all his ways relied on what he used to do. Everything he used to do often resulted in him doing nothing because he was being overly cautious, which was what put him in the predicament he was in now. 'Slag it, my head is actually starting to hurt. I'm tired of fighting myself and never doing anything.' Not giving himself another chance to second-guess his actions, Prowl used Ratchet's idea of trial by fire and leaned in to kiss Jazz.
Jazz was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice what Prowl was doing until he felt Prowl's lip components pressing down on his. His spark dropped to his peds before picking itself back up and pulsating erratically. Before Jazz could fully respond back, however, the fleeting kiss ended as Prowl pulled back.
Prowl stared back at Jazz as he tried to keep his doorwings from twitching while calming down his systems. "Am I that kind of friend?"
"Prowl, I do not kiss any of my friends!" At Prowl's quiet 'oh', however, Jazz quickly jumped in before Prowl could think the worst. "But I do know that you're the only friend I've thought about sneaking in a kiss."
"Really? You aren't just saying that to be courteous." Prowl was having trouble not second-guessing himself, even going so far as to second-guess Jazz.
"Pit no. Prowl, I wasn't sure what I wanted from you, and in some ways I still don't, but I know that I do want some more of that!" With a cheeky grin, Jazz leaned in, balancing his torso on the arm of the chair. "But I want it a little longer this time to enjoy the moment. You know me; I love to live for the moment." Smiling seductively, Jazz swept Prowl's lip components in a fiery kiss, refusing to let Prowl use his mouth to breath. Just as Prowl had taken a leap of faith, so had Jazz.
Prowl wasn't interested in stopping for air. Instead, he kissed Jazz back, matching the fierce passion with his own. Jazz's right hand reached out to steady himself against the back of the chair as his other hand reached up to caress the inside of Prowl's doorwing joint. A moan escaped from Prowl before he could stop it and the sound served to fuel Jazz's lust. He pushed Prowl backwards across the chair, barely letting the Praxian's doorwings pass over the chair's arm to escape from being pinned down. Prowl reached into a seam on Jazz's hip and fondled the cables beneath the armor to even the playing field. Jazz's leg buckled and his torso fell down on top of Prowl.
The Porsche scrambled to move into a better position, sliding his legs between Prowl's as he nipped the Datsun's tense neck cables. Prowl's arm shot out, searching for Jazz's audio receptors and caressed the sensitive places. The overwhelming feedback drove Jazz into a frenzy and he pushed Prowl down harder to fondle the tactician's doorwings. He turned on the magnetic sensors in his hands and immediately Prowl started twitching. Moments after Prowl had pratically convulsed with pleasure, Jazz heard a muffled 'mmph!' from where his shoulder was pressed into Prowl's face, followed by Prowl's arms shooting forward to push him away. A cracking noise echoed in his audios and Prowl's neck suddenly started slipping away from Jazz's mouth. 'Huh?' he wondered, still in a static haze, before he felt Prowl frantically attempts to push him away double, only to realize what Prowl wanted too late.
CRACK! The arm of the chair that Prowl had been heavily pinned against broke and crumpled beneath the combined body weight of the two mechs. Jazz moved away awkwardly and looked down at Prowl, who was bent backward in the most uncomfortable position. "Uh, sorry?"
Prowl waved him off, trying to pull his senses together. He was looking up at an awkward angle and the tips of his doorwings were scraping the floor. Plus his knees were bent almost painfully with Jazz still resting his lower half on Prowl's hips, although it probably couldn't be avoided since one of his legs had somehow ended up trapped between Prowl's left leg. Before Prowl could kindly ask Jazz to get off of him an angry hail interrupted him. An angry hail coming from none other than Ratchet.
"Uh, I hope that wasn't too far," Jazz asked, unaware of Ratchet's hail.
"Give me a moment, please. I mean, it wasn't, but Ratchet is hailing me, and it seems he's having one of his infamous tantrums. I guess I should be glad it all went wrong at the same time for once, unlike the other times we tried being around each other, if nothing else." Prowl took a deep breath to steady himself. He opened the hail as Jazz pulled him upright in the chair. ::Yes, Ratchet?::
::Do you know what those creator-fragging twins did to each other? They – frag them! I don't want to get into the details, or I'll end up having to stop so I can strangle them again! Let's just say that I'm staring at the result of Sunstreaker mocking Sideswipe for something that happened outside in the hallway about a joor ago. Now they are in pieces, bleeding everywhere, and snarling at each other like hungry Decepticons fighting over a single cube of high-grade! I'm tired of their crap. I need to get a nice long break from it, so I've devised a foolproof plan. I just need to know if I can give Hoist the go ahead to end our suffering.::
::The go ahead to what, Ratchet?::
::Well, it seems that Hoist ran out of orange paint some time ago to repair all the walls from Sideswipe's prank earlier this month. Since I'm staring at pieces of red and yellow armor, I figured I could make some use out of them and the larger pieces – and by that I mean Fragger No.1 and Fragger No. 2 – and get Hoist some supplies. What do you think, Prowl? Can I squeeze the two of them together and see if I can get some orange paint out of their yellow and red hides? Unless you really wanna stare at brown splotchy walls for the next decaorn.::
::Erm, Ratchet - ::
::Oh, right. That would interfere with Jazz's punishment over what Sideswipe said to you. Maybe he'll want in on this since he still hasn't finished punishing Sideswipe.::
Prowl looked back towards the incredibly-close saboteur. "You want in on this conversation? It concerns Sideswipe."
"Sure, what the pit," Jazz sighed. Jazz linked into the hail via Prowl's invitation. ::Your beloved Jazzman's here. What's up Ratchet? I hear that Sideswipe has been added again to your list of mechs to torture?::
::Yeah, I want to crush him and his twin and see if we can get some supplies out of their hides. How's that sound?::
::Too short-lived for my taste. I like to spend at least an orn pointing and laughing when I hand down my punishments, and it sounds like Sideswipe wouldn't be conscious long enough.::
::Well then snap to it and deliver your punishment! I want mine and I want it soon. Prowl, how long does it take for all of this paperwork to get through? I don't want to wait an astrosecond longer than I have to!:: Ratchet demanded.
Prowl groaned and looked back at Jazz, or namely, Jazz's lip components. A mischievous smile broke across his face. ::I'm sorry Ratchet, but you haven't cleared me for any duty. I'm concerned that your hypothesis may have some merit, and since your hypothesis states that my ability to even function correctly has been impaired, that makes me unfit for even the most basic duties of my position. I can't help you until I've completed your orders.::
An angry cry erupted across both Jazz's and Prowl's comlinks as Ratchet tore into Prowl. ::You Pit-spawned, fragging son-of-a-snow-blower! You choose now of all orns to finally listen to me? Scrap you! I want to see fear and panic in their faces and I won't settle for anything less than tonight! I had plans and now they are all wasted because Sunstreaker hurt Sideswipe's feelings and they decided to resolve their issues by pounding each other in various pieces of furniture!::
::That is unfortunate, Ratchet. You could always try easier punishments so that Ironhide could complete the paperwork in my absence. Why don't you try the pink dress idea you had and see if you were right about the reaction?:: Prowl suggested before cutting the link when another rant exploded from Ratchet. Prowl smiled faintly and looked at Jazz, who had the most curious expression on his face. "Is something the matter?"
"Well no, but I was wondering about the pink dress thing from just now?"
"Oh, that. Ratchet made a comment earlier where he used Sideswipe as a reference."
"Um, okay…" Jazz stared blankly at Prowl longer. "And how does the pink dress fit in with Sideswipe?"
"He was comparing the stupidity of one idea with the idea of asking Sideswipe to 'put on a pink fluffy dress and dance to Disney songs,' as I recall." It was Prowl's turn to be the curious one when Jazz didn't say anything at first. A devious smirk slowly crept along the Porsche's face. "Jazz, what are you thinking?" Prowl asked carefully.
Jazz's smirk bloomed into a demon-like grin, complete with a dark chuckle. "Oh nothing really. It just suddenly occurs to me that I have a few more joors to complete the paperwork on Sideswipe's punishment and I know a human designer who owes me a favor. Plus I seem to remember Carly saying something about how her baby cousin was having a 'Pretty Pretty Princess' party and the entertainment fell through."
Grinning at Jazz's diabolic plan, Prowl stole another kiss from Jazz. However, he broke it off as things began to get heating again when a caution alert popped into the corner of his vision. "It appears our activities have drained most of my remaining energy levels."
"Oh." Disappointed, Jazz untangled himself from Prowl and pulled the mech fully upright. "I suppose I should let you get some rest then, especially if you should stick to whatever Ratchet has planned."
"What was that about earlier then, when you said 'slag my nap?' I thought you were a mech of your words." Prowl teased as he stood up and stretched his back, trying to loosen the kinks from the accident that destroyed half a chair.
"Hey, I am. It was true then because I wanted to talk, not sleep."
"Well what about now?" Prowl replied playfully as he moved towards the berth.
Shocked, Jazz stammered at the usually-stoic mech. "Prowl? I still don't know what we are, but I didn't think you were that kind of mech – at least not this early!"
"Jazz, I'm not, although not because I'm rigid about taking things slow. I don't know what we are either, but I would like to figure it out in time. Our lives are not as short as the humans; we don't need labels right now. For now all I want is to rest. But it would be nice to have someone to rest with… to make sure that no one disrupts my recharge, of course." Prowl added as he sat down on the berth.
Jazz laughed at Prowl's words, amused at Prowl's request that he keep his romantic interest out of harm's way. "Yeah, I can watch over you and keep you safe." 'Maybe for more orns than this one,' Jazz silently added. As he lay down by Prowl, making sure to give the mech room, Jazz couldn't help but feel enthralled with the moment more than any other moments he'd spent with his other friends. He knew that he wanted to spend more time with Prowl and this felt like right. "Feels like fate," Jazz murmured as he mused about the feeling.
"What?" Prowl, who was already half-powered down, activated his optics to look at Jazz.
"Nothing really. This just feels comfortable, almost like it was the right thing to do. As if this is what fate intended all along."
"Fate. That's what you said back in the park."
"Guess I got it right then, perhaps?" Jazz grinned as he lightly traced the outline of Prowl's doorwing.
"Jazz, I told you then that I didn't believe in fate and I still don't."
"Mmhmm, okay, Prowler. We'll see." Jazz smiled softly as Prowl powered down with a barely-audible 'don't call me that.' After Prowl was completely in recharge, Jazz wrapped his arms around the offline mech and resting his head on Prowl's back. "We'll see, Prowl. Perhaps I'll teach you to believe in fate."
~*~FIN~*~
Yes! Freedom! Except that I'm planning a sequel XD It won't be happening though for a while, since my plan is to write the whole rough draft and then post it as I polish each chapter. That way, I'm not doing 3 rough drafts (I had like 4 or 5 for this ending before I finally liked one), send it to Evil Ratchet, and then incorporate all her crit before I finally post one chapter. That was way too long and doing it the new way would cut it down to like 2-4 weeks between chapters (Evil Ratchet got herself a much more demanding life and I'd like to be considerate of that, especially since I like her :D ). I do plan to post a Lambo fic before that, although they will probably be written in parallel since I'm kinda excited about it. But I can't be just a PxJ writer ;)
Much love for Evil Ratchet, renegadewriter8, Hiding In My Writing, Darklog73, SecretSnow, Got Buttermilk, Gatekat, Kai-Chan94, DramaStar-Mel, iNsAnE nO bAkA, OrianPrim92, taralynden, Deathcomes4u, Rubyswordsmaster, Optimus Bob, ShadowedBlossom, creepy-wolf, won't be the Victim, Sailormoon20114486, Krypticated! Buttermilk, I'm sorry I wasn't able to give Blue and Prowl a real moment, but I couldn't fit it in very well :( I did put what's in there just for you, and I can always put more in the sequel ;)
I would really appreciate any feedback for future writing! Obviously the time thing was bad, and there were several plans I ended up dropping because of how far I'd already stretched this (another reason to complete the rough draft first), and that caused a few plot mistakes. But I know there are more than just those things, so any help would be loved.
I'll leave you with a summary of the title-less sequel to decide if you want to watch for it towards the end of this year (yeah, I know that's late, but let's be practical. And honest – I'm shooting for end of this year, but January is a total possibility):
A few decaorns after the Autobots recover from the last Decepticon battle, Jazz and Prowl start to explore the idea of serious relationship. As they talk about what's happened, Prowl asks a seemingly-innocent question regarding Smokescreen's story for how he met Blacksmoke: Why would Blacksmoke show up at the funeral to look for Juniper after hundreds of vorns? Curious what one of his most underground Special Ops mech was doing, Jazz decides to look into the matter only to realize that Blacksmoke was trying to tell a trusted comrade outside of the Special Ops about a dark secret in Jazz's own organization.
During his investigation, one of Jazz's trusted advisors on Cybertron learns that Blacksmoke had a sparkling. Unfortunately, Jazz discovers too late that his trusted advisor was the one that Blacksmoke had been trying to warn Juniper about. His advisor doesn't feel comfortable with Jazz's investigation or the possibility that Blacksmoke's sparkling may know something, so he decides to set the plan in motion – a plan that capitalizes on Jazz's biggest fears and one of Blacksmoke's: the harm of his sparkling.