Prompt: "Yes I know said that, but I actually meant..."

Summary/Notes: A continuation of "What Happens Next", still from Prowl's POV.

Jazz was flirting. I knew that he and Optimus were suspicious of the new mech that had joined our crew, but it was taking every bit of restraint I had to not get up, push that mech aside and shove Jazz against the nearest surface and claim him. I'd never behave this way! I knew that Jazz was not emotionally involved, I knew that this was just part of his job, and I knew that he would never step over the lines he drew for himself, but it was difficult for me to watch.

I restrained my baser desires and rose to my feet, gathering the few datapads I had brought with me to review before the officer's meeting. As I stood, the other officers also rose and began moving toward the exit, murmuring among themselves as they did so.

The war was not going well. Megatron had an advantage over us – he had the Vosnian flyers, who now called themselves Seekers – on his side. Their aerial advantage was difficult for us to defend against, and we were facing high losses at this point in the war. My department was stretched to its limits, attempting to apply tactics to a situation that was beyond our abilities. Jazz's department had been divided shortly after he became head. He had promoted a mech that was a genius at supply and demand and taken over the Special Operations division. This arrangement allowed us the full genius of Jazz's abilities, and he was the only reason we were still fighting the war. His special operatives were well placed, sneaky, and willing to wait for vorns before making their moves. Meanwhile, we were getting excellent intel and thus, the ability to stifle some of Megatron's plans, although we needed more fighters and something to combat the Decepticon Air Command.

I glanced at Jazz as I walked by him. He was excusing himself to Darkspot, telling the mech that he had to go to this meeting and wasn't it a shame that it was intruding on their time. He managed to extricate himself as I drew by and joined me.

::Persistent bugger.:: Jazz commed me on our private link, established an orn after we met. We found that we couldn't stand to not be able to talk to one another as we pleased, and had exchanged comm links. It was a very satisfactory arrangement.

::Indeed.:: I agreed.

Jazz grinned at me. ::Had to restrain yourself, didn't ya?::

I nodded as we approached the meeting room, and Jazz's smiled bloomed for a brief moment. He put on a more serious expression as we entered the room and moved to our places.

As I expected, the meeting was a gloomy affair. We were doing our best, but we needed a tool or weapon we didn't have, and so all we were able to do was fight a holding war and hope that something would change.

After the meeting, Jazz followed me to my office. This was not an uncommon occurrence, and no-one took notice as Jazz slipped in behind me and closed the door.

I laid my datapads down and turned to hold him. We had managed little steps in our relationship thus far; exchanged comm links, little glances, intimate moments like this, a shared understanding that we were meant to be. These little intimacies fed our sparks' desire, but this had to be enough to sustain us for the time being and we clung to the little pieces that tied us together.

He curled into my arms, armour already out of the way. He'd quickly moved to exposing his protoform to me, and the first time had been a revelation. I let the file play as I held Jazz close to me.

I had held out my arms to Jazz, who was upset at the loss of his operative. He had moved easily into my arms, shifting his armour out of the way as he moved. I was astonished to see the dark grey of his protoform exposed as he snuggled himself into my body. My spark was bounding in my chest, striving to get ever closer to its mate.

The feel of Jazz's protoform scrambled all my circuits, and my last armour shifted, exposing my protoform to Jazz. He drew in a deep draught of air at the feel, just as I was doing, and we basked in our love and the fire of our sparks' attraction.

We didn't have time for a long session of holding each other this time, so data was also exchanged as we held each other over our comm links; the what and wherefore of running an army under pressure.

My door burst open, and the look on the Prime's face was knowing as he said, "Darkspot's heading this way."

We pulled apart and shifted our armour, moving quickly to look the part of the Prime's second and third. Jazz grabbed his datapad, opening it and starting in the middle of a sentence as he tilted the screen to show the Prime what he was talking about.

The Prime played along, leaning over Jazz to look at the datapad as I pulled out a datapad of my own.

"…so if we concentrate on this base, we might be able to clear a path for our supply lines and removed some of the hazards there."

The door's chime was not unexpected, and I called out, "Enter."

The door opened, and as the Prime had warned, the new mech was in the doorway. He looked surprised to see the Prime with us, but forged ahead.

"Oh, hi, Jazz. I knew your meeting was over and wondered where you were. We hadn't finished going over the details of the new operation."

Jazz nodded. "Yes, Darkspot, I know. I'll join you in my office when Prime and Prowl and I have finished up a couple of details here. I'll be there in a breem."

Darkspot nodded and stepped back, reluctance in his rigidly held frame. The door closed and hesitant steps moved away.

Jazz turned and thunked his head down on my shoulder. I patted him and said, "Duty calls."

Prime chuckled. "I want you to know that Prima is thrilled about the pair of you. I'm not sure why, but I'm supposed to pass that message on to you." He stepped back and saluted us as he pressed the door pad and left.

For an unknown reason, the simple message sent warmth through my systems, the approval of the first Prime soothing something in the back of my processor. I set the feeling aside to examine later and brought my beloved's attention back to the job at hand.

"Go, Jazz. You need to set him up."

"It's a pain, Prowl. That mech is all over me, and I don't want him to touch."

I soothed him. "I know. You're doing a good job of keeping him at a distance, but some interaction is necessary. I don't like that you have to do this, either, Jazz."

Jazz peered up at me. "I hate it. All I can think about is you, and his touches feel all wrong."

I gathered my courage and told him, "All you have to do is come to me, and I'll erase his touches with my own." I bent slightly and brushed a kiss over his lip plates, breathing out as I did so. It was one of our little traditions, sending a bit of ourselves into the other when we had to part.

Jazz sucked in my air, pulling it deep into his systems. He stepped back and grabbed his datapads, giving me a smile as he left.

Shakily, I seated myself and reminded my spark that bonding in the middle of a war was a very bad idea.

As we had suspected, Darkspot was a Decepticon operative. We had not expected that he would fall pedes over audials in love with Jazz and offer us everything he could simply for the chance to stay around Jazz after he was caught. My beloved was horrified at the impassioned pleas for his time and attention after Darkspot was found out. The Prime had to intervene, telling Darkspot that he couldn't promise a mech to anyone, much less a known traitor.

"I'll come over to your side if you let me have him!" Darkspot told the Prime.

Prime's bodyguard, Ironhide, laughed. "You'd have a better time demanding attention from that wall right there. Jazz is friends with everybot, lover to nobot."

That simple statement sent an electrical shock along my spinal struts. Was that really how Jazz was viewed? I realised that I only knew Jazz through my own personal view of him, not through how others viewed him. I partitioned off that thread and returned my attention to the interrogation before me.

Darkspot was feeling something similar to my own thoughts, if his reaction was anything to go by. "I can make him love me! I just need a chance! Give me Jazz and I'll give you everything I know."

The object of this bargaining was listening just outside the door and he sent me a short message. ::Which isn't much. Shockwave had him pegged as a traitor; it's why he was sent here.::

::To become our problem and not his?:: I returned.

::Yup.::

The Prime was unwilling to give Darkspot such a deal. "No. Give us what you know and we would be merciful."

Darkspot drew himself up and said, "Deactivation would be more merciful if I can't have him."

The Prime shook his head. "We don't operate like that."

It seemed there was no compromise. I sighed; the ache of weighty decisions such as this one wore on me. Sometimes the burden seemed too great to bear.

Jazz came into the room. Darkspot leaned forward, but Jazz ignored him, coming up to me and plastering himself along my back, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I leaned into him slightly, folding my arms over his and taking the comfort he offered to gather my strength. Jazz only stayed that way for a few moments, but it was enough to help me recover my equilibrium and focus myself on the grim task before me.

Ironhide was looking stunned, the Prime was amused, and Darkspot was devastated by the time Jazz lifted his head from my back and left the room.

The compromise was swiftly reached after that. Darkspot told us everything in exchange for a body reformat and a processor wipe so he could forget Jazz. The Prime was not happy about the deal, but the remainder of his command team was far more pragmatic. The mech was alive and on our side. We'd keep an optic on him, but he would never be allowed to meet Jazz again. Some things were too deeply written to be completely wiped away.

Ironhide came to see me after that. He'd also known Jazz before I had, but not as long as the Prime, and he was worried that I was somehow taking advantage of Jazz. I did my best to reassure him, but was unable to make much progress until the Prime and Jazz dropped into my office and found Ironhide there. Jazz immediately caught on to what was happening and reassured Ironhide himself. The Prime backed him, and I was relieved that he seemed to believe them.

We continued as before, now with one other mech aware of our relationship, and for a time, all seemed well.

Jazz and I had always been motivated to work together. It was part of our deep attraction to each other, a willingness to listen carefully and to put the best interpretation possible on what the other said. We emwanted/em to help each other, to work the other one. This willingness had gotten us over a few rough spots and had helped the Prime when he was running into opposition in the early times of him becoming head of the army – if Jazz and I were willing to work together, then there was little reason for anyone else to throw up roadblocks. It had smoothed the path the Prime had to walk, and in a way, had made our army stronger faster than expected. I'm sure Megatron had expected Sentinel Prime's death to wreak havoc on the Autobots. He was quite surprised to find that not only was the army better than under Sentinel, it was starting to make inroads on his army in the early cycles of the war. This Prime was far more willing to fight than Sentinel ever had been.

But to get back on-topic. Jazz finally came up with a Special Ops plan I could not support, and he was unwilling to make any of the changes I suggested. We actually were fighting with each other.

"I love you," Jazz blurted out, "but I don't like you very much right now." He stood up and made his way to the door, radiating anger. I moved quickly, grabbing his arm and swinging him around until his back was against the wall. I didn't lean on him, merely held his arms. He glared at me.

::Jazz.::

"No, Prowl. Not fair. I know this mission doesn't meet your parameters for success, but I really feel that it's important and needs to be done." Jazz refused to use our personal comm link, and his refusal told me how hurt he was and the great importance he placed on this idea.

I pulled back, not wishing to pressure Jazz through our connection, and asked, "What about your new operative?"

"He's not trained up yet." Jazz said.

"Yet, he has a very useful tool that will bring the mission specs up to my parameters." I told him.

Jazz scoffed. "He's a Towers mech. He has no idea of the dirty side of war."

I cocked my head and told him, "I believe Mirage has seen more of the dirty side of people than you ever will, Jazz. High society is not for the faint of spark, ever. The politics there are dirtier than in the Council chambers."

Jazz's optics widened. "No way!"

"You can have all the credits in the world and still have to fight for your life." I told him. "Give Mirage a chance. I think you'll find he's very good at what you do."

Jazz sighed. "Fine. I'll bring him along." He started to move away from the wall, but I stopped him.

"We need to fix this." I said.

"Fix what?" Jazz was bewildered.

"You said you didn't like me." I answered him.

He laughed. "I know I said that, but what I really meant was…"

I interrupted him, leaned toward him. "…what you actually meant was that you adore me. You can't live without me. Your spark leaps when it's around mine and you want to spend the rest of your cycles with me." I leaned closer, purring my next words directly into his audio receivers. "I feel the same way."

Jazz slumped, his ventilations coming faster than normal. "Oh, yeah."

I walked him backwards a step until he was back against the wall, then leaned in, parting my armour as he parted his. "We are stronger together than we are apart, Jazz. Promise me you'll always try to work with me."

He was shuddering, his protoform heating from the closeness of our bodies and the passion in my voice. "As long as you promise the same, Prowl."

"I promise." I whispered. Then I kissed him, not the light kisses we'd exchanged before, but a passionate kiss, full of promises and love. He moaned, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss.

It took everything I had to pull back from the fire of his love, but I managed it. He looked dazed, his lip plates lightly swollen and energon flushing his cheek plates. He looked thoroughly ravished, and I couldn't resist pressing another kiss to his lips.

We clung to each other until we'd calmed ourselves. I regretted our fight, but the making up afterwards was extremely pleasant. I held Jazz close to me, glad that we were able to reach a compromise without damaging our relationship.

Finally, Jazz pulled away slightly, and I released him. We put ourselves to rights, and tentatively I smiled at him. In return, I got one of his true smiles and my spark lifted at the sight.

"I'm sorry, Prowl." Jazz said to me.

"I'm sorry, too, Jazz. I will not take advantage of our closeness again."

"I know you won't. I'll be more flexible about my mission planning, because I know you're just trying to keep us as safe as possible." Jazz laid his hand on my chest as he spoke, and I covered his hand with my own.

I held my future in my arms, and I would do my best to work with him and build a relationship that could withstand any problems that lay in our future. He was worth every bit of my effort.

To be continued…!