AN: First off I want to send big thank you to OrianPrime92, DitzyMusicLover, Elita One, flamingmarsh, Brimtayne, Independent.C, WolvesFire77, PrancingTiger86, Cloudy McSam, Gimme-Chan, marleypup14, MazokuTenshi, Beregond5, Asher119, Hot Rod's Girl, Randomstrike, and Deepseadolphin11 for all the feedback. I deeply appreciate it and everyone as well for taking the time to let me know what you all think. Thank you.
To everyone else who had read the story and added it to favorites or alerts: Thank you as well for all the support.
Now, honestly, I have to say that I have mixed feelings about posting this chapter. This story has evolved in ways that I never even imagined when I sat down and typed up the first chapter. Like many of you I hate to see it end, though at the same time it is a relief to know how close it is to being finished.
I hope you enjoy. This chapter has been a long time coming.
Making Sense of the Illogical
Chapter Nineteen
Klick- About One Earth Second
Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes
Cycle-One Earth Hour
Joor – One Earth Day
Orn - About Two Earth Weeks
Vorn - About 83 Earth years
Stepping carefully into the supply room that Sideswipe had said he would be in all joor, Jazz looked around at the mess that riddled the area and had to marvel at the red warrior's resourcefulness.
If nothing else the party was sure to be one that wouldn't be forgotten in a while Jazz mused to himself as he looked around the spare supply room that the twins had appropriated to hold all the goods that they had 'borrowed' from the base supplies.
Fully entering the room and stepping around some crates labeled 'breakable' (and he really wasn't sure if he even wanted to know what the twins had in there that could be considered as such) he made his way further into the space, searching for Sideswipe amid the mess of objects.
Making one last visual sweep of the area and still not seeing the bot (it was interesting to note that it was the always the bigger of the mechs that seemed able to disappear completely in small spaces, though the how escaped even Wheeljack's understanding) Jazz called out the frontliner's name curiously.
"Sideswipe?"
A bang and a curse issued from somewhere in the left corner and sure enough, as Jazz looked on, the red warrior seemed to appear as if by magic from behind a pile of boxes.
Seeing Jazz Sideswipe perked up considerably. "Jazz! You're just in time!"
"For?" Jazz asked while narrowing his optic ridges in confusion.
Straightening up completely Sideswipe enthusiastically leapt over a few of the piles and managed (through a stunning set of acrobatic movements that even he wasn't sure that he would feel comfortable performing) to land nimbly beside Jazz and plant himself with one arm around the saboteur.
Then Sideswipe sub-spaced a data-padd and waved it in front of Jazz's face dramatically.
"Why to pick the theme of course!" The red bot announced in his best sing-song voice.
"Theme?" Jazz asked, torn between being alarmed and intrigued at the very long list that he managed to get a glimpse of before Sideswipe brought the data-padd back close to him and started scrolling through the list.
"Of course!" The red bot replied as if Jazz were completely ignorant.
"Now," And Sideswipe cleared his vocalizer and, adopting a Pseudo professional air, set himself down on one of the crates. "We have several themes to choose from and some of them come highly recommended."
"Recommended?" Jazz questioned, slightly horrified and taken aback by the sheer amount of thought that Sideswipe was putting into planning this particular party (it wasn't that they never threw parties, but usually they were spontaneous and consisted of nothing but cubes of high-grade, whatever music they could procure and wild antics that annoyed Ratchet when it all got out of control and landed mechs in his med. bay).
"Sure." The frontliner replied distractedly. "For instance, we have Blaster who recommended having a concert theme…" Despite his astonishment Jazz had to admit that that peaked his interest.
"Ratchet said we should have something along the order of a straight-up bar theme…" Sideswipe said continuing down the list.
"He would." Jazz mumbled under his vocalizer which caused Sideswipe to look up for a moment with an amused expression before once again concentrating on the padd in his hand.
Coming to another of the Autobots recommendations Sideswipe made an amused noise and a mischievous look entered his optics.
"Oh you'll love this one Jazz." Sideswipe said happily from his perch. "The mini-bots all voted unanimously for something involving the femmes. Though I doubt Elita will go for that." The red twin mumbled.
Jazz blinked his optics and almost laughed out loud at the image that entered his processor at the thought.
"So?" Sideswipe looked up expectantly, recalling Jazz's attention to the room. "Which one do you want to do?" and he held out the data-padd so Jazz could look at it for himself.
Sighing through his intakes Jazz snatched the padd out of Sideswipe's hand and started thumbing through the contents himself.
It was all pretty ordinary (and slightly amusing) until he got to the second page and something caught his optic.
He read through it again before looking up incredulously at Sideswipe.
"Someone wants to lock me and Prowl in a closet?!" He asked, aghast at the thought.
Sideswipe only shrugged and gave the saboteur an innocent look.
-TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORME RS-
Aside from picking a theme Jazz was also required to pick out what variations of high-grade he wanted, the music that he liked (since he had finally! reached a compromised with the twins and the three of them has settled for a combined mix of a bar and concert theme as the simplest and most effective way to go), and who he wanted to attend (everybody on the base eventually ended up being invited-though he didn't suppose that there was any way that they could have been kept out of it all anyway).
Really about the only thing that Jazz didn't end up compromising about on in the end was the issue of the fireworks. He had (very firmly and with a lot of head shaking) put his foot down and drawn the line when Sideswipe had described what he and Sunstreaker had wanted to do with them when they had been uncovered beneath all of the party decorations, music tapes and high-grade ingredients.
In the end it took all of Jazz's willpower and patience, the intervention of Prime and Red Alert (who was going off in fits because of the twins having free reign to do whatever their sparks desired without any rules to stop them with-the within reason was being steadfastly overlooked by both parties) and a near miracle from Primus to get the party set up even vaguely to his liking but he had to admit while looking around the crowded room after two joors of planning and preparation that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe (who he was now thoroughly convinced could be either the morale or supply officer if he ever lost his enthusiasm for killing Decepticons) had the ability to arrange a good party when given the right amount of leeway and supplies.
And now the party was in full swing and Jazz was glad that everybody looked like they were having a good time.
Everybody except…
Jazz's optics alighted on the very still and silent contemplating form of Prowl, who had stuffed himself at a corner table and was apparently trying his best to stay out of the way of all the over-energized and rowdy mechs that had crowded into the mess room, out into the hall, and into just about every corner and niche that they could find to stuff themselves in.
Looking away from Prowl to where Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were eagerly handing out their specially brewed energon to any mech with a free hand, Jazz couldn't help but wince. It had taken a full committee of mechs most of three cycles to convince the SIC to attend the party and now he was just sitting there, looking uncomfortable.
Well he would fix that, but first….
Looking around one last time Jazz caught a glimpse of Red Alert standing with his bond mate, Blaster, Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor who appeared to be doing their best to keep Red Alert as calm as possible while still trying to have a good time themselves.
Moving his gaze again he spotted Optimus, Ironhide and the rest of the command staff standing around and they seemed to be enjoying the downtime that the party was offering as well too.
And even the mini-bots were managing to behave themselves while still enjoying the party as well.
In fact if he was seeing things correctly Prowl was the only bot present that didn't seem to be enjoying himself in some way, shape or form.
And Jazz had already decided that they couldn't have that.
So in that spirit Jazz grabbed a full cube of high-grade from the bar and turned around, intent on getting Prowl to agree to go to a more secluded spot so that the two of them could talk privately.
It seemed that Prowl had other ideas however because when Jazz looked back at the table that the tactician had previously been occupying, he had vanished.
Swiveling his head around anxiously, Jazz couldn't see any trace of black and white that might indicate Prowl was anywhere in the vicinity and after looking around for a breem, Jazz had to concede the fact that Prowl wasn't in the room and so he set down his cube and walked swiftly to the exit.
-TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORME RS-
Once away from all the noise and chaos that was taking place in the mess room it wasn't hard to spot the SIC.
In fact Prowl was just standing in the middle of the hallway, looking as if he was waiting for Jazz to find him.
Jazz stared at the scene in confusion for a klick trying to figure out what exactly the tactician thought he was up to, and had actually turned on his vocalizer to ask Prowl just that when the tactician's doorwings straightened up on his back and he gave Jazz an uncharacteristic look.
This further confused Jazz and he took a step forward and as he did Prowl suddenly took a step back and took off at full speed down the hallway.
Jazz stared dumbfounded at the spot that the tactician had previously been occupying pondering the situation (why did he take off like that?!) before taking off after him, determined that Prowl wasn't going to get away from him this time.
"Make way! Sorry! Coming through!" Jazz yelled out as he haphazardly dashed between startled mechs and weaved through throngs of bots who just didn't seem to understand that he was on an important errand and would they please stop blocking his path after letting Prowl go by when he was in the middle of chasing him!
The mechs that he bowled into yelped and jumped hastily out of the way.
"Hey Jazz!" Huffer cried out indignantly as he rounded yet another corner and clipped the mini-bot, causing him to spill his high-grade down his front.
"Sorry!" Jazz tossed over his shoulder, but didn't decrease his speed, afraid that Prowl would manage to slip out of sight if he did so.
Ultimately the chase that Prowl had instigated took the two of them through the lower levels of the base and up into the hallway where most of the offices were kept.
And it was as they were approaching the front end of the base that Jazz finally managed to figure out exactly what Prowl's destination had to be.
His office. Prowl was headed straight to his office.
For a moment the thought that all of this was working out too perfectly (because what were the odds that Prowl would not only take off after seeing him, but that he would end up leading both of them to one of the few private spots left in the base-Prowl wasn't a tactician for nothing and surely he had to know that Jazz was following him) crossed his processor and his Ops. training started screaming at him that this was more than likely a set-up of some sort but he pushed those thoughts aside and continued on, though by this time he was breathing erratically and his body was overheating from the constant physical exertion that he had undertaken in the last ten breems.
But he finally managed to get to Prowl's office door and slammed his palm impatiently against the door controls and, surprisingly enough the door slid right open, which just set off another red flag in his head. If Prowl really was trying to get away from him wouldn't he have locked the door behind him?
Perplexed, confused, cautious, and badly overheated Jazz stepped into the office slowly only to stop out of pure shock.
There was Prowl all right, sitting behind his desk and leaning back in his chair. On the desk were two warm cubes of energon though you could barely tell that they were there because the lighting had been turned down to the bare minimum and soft music (a classical piece from the height of the Golden Age) was playing in the background.
Somewhere in his processor he filed away the thought that once again his instincts had been right about a situation. This was (had to be) a set up after all.
Jazz's optics widened and he looked over at Prowl.
"What?" He asked dazedly, pure unadulterated astonishment lacing his voice.
The tactician made a noise in the back of his vocalizer and looked up to stare straight into Jazz's blue optics.
The look was intense and caused Jazz's spark to start racing.
Pushing his chair back Prowl stood up slowly and walked around the desk until he was face to face with Jazz.
Jazz's breath hitched in his intakes and his body, already warm from all the running, heated up even more.
The tactician let Jazz squirm uncomfortably for a moment before half-shuttering his optics and closing the distance between the two, setting his hands lightly up against Jazz's chest plate.
Being this close him Jazz was sure that Prowl could hear and feel his spark beating in its case. Jazz looked away from Prowl's intense gaze in a last-ditch attempt to keep some of his wits about him.
"Prowl…what…" He began but was cut off when Prowl leaned in and captured his mouth hungrily.
It took a klick to register what was happening, but when it did Jazz jumped away from Prowl's (sweet, wonderful) kiss and gaped at the tactician as if he had just had another head welded to his shoulders.
"Jazz?" Prowl questioned, hurt and curiosity lacing his voice.
Ignoring the pain that Prowl's tone caused him Jazz studied the tactician as much as the dim illumination would allow.
Prowl was standing there (for once not with a prim and perfect military posture) observing him with half shuttered optics, the look on his face a mixture of curiosity and anguish.
And while he was looking at Prowl Jazz's mind couldn't help wander back over the last twelve orns.
He thought about Prowl and the behavior that had instigated this whole series of events. He thought about all the doubts that he had had surface over the actions that he had taken. He thought about all the obstacles that he had had to overcome to get to this point.
He thought about what Prowl had just done, with his sweet lips moving against his and his glossa running deliciously over his teeth plating and came to the decision that enough was quite enough.
Tossing all thoughts, doubts, and protocols out of his mind Jazz decided that he should heed his better nature for once and reacted purely on instinct.
Moving forward again he forced Prowl to back up as well until the tactician was trapped between him and the desk.
And still acting on instinct Jazz closed the distance between them and pulled Prowl into a tight embrace.
With his arms wrapped around the tactician he could hear every breath of air that went into Prowl's intakes, could feel the heat that Prowl's systems generated and could see, clearly see, the way that Prowl was reacting to his touch.
He could have stayed like this forever and been content he decided.
"Jazz?" Prowl breathed softly while absently resting his weight against him.
Jazz drew in a ragged breath, trying to calm his systems.
"Jazz?" Prowl questioned again, this time with a more concerned lilt to his voice.
"Prowl…"
Jazz tightened his grip on the tactician and drew in another breath.
"Prowl I …"
And Jazz found himself unable to continue because the sheer enormity of the situation was finally setting in. He was about to cross a line that couldn't be redrawn.
And if this went badly….
If he did this…
And the doubts that he had thought he had silenced sprang to life once again in his processor for a klick before he forcibly shut them out again.
Tightening his grip on Prowl further he powered down his optics and sent out a silent prayer to Primus, hoping that would help to strengthen his resolve.
He could do this! He could!
Jazz took in one last huge breath of air, hugged Prowl to him and turned on his vocalizer.
With his spark beating loudly and his energon rushing to various places he gathered up what was left of his courage, tossed caution to the wind and uttered words that he had been longing to say to Prowl for orns.
"Prowl, I like you." He whispered softly into the tactician's audio receptors.
There. He had said it.
And there you have it folks. Nineteen chapters down, one to go.
I hope this lived up to everyone's expectations, though I acknowledge that it probably wasn't what most people were imagining throughout the story. In any case I'll see everyone back here for the final chapter. KG.
*Edited for content, grammar and spelling on November 4, 2013*- Reposted on November 17, 2013*