Chapter 20

-0-Outside the door of Prime's office later that morning

Prowl gathered himself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. Usually his neediness was suppressed under multiple layers of conditioned reflex so he could come and go around the Prime with only minimal acknowledgment of his growing feelings. Now? Not so much. He felt nerves on his nerves as he reached for the door handle. Rapping lightly, he waited.

Dulcet tones, that warm rich baritone replied: "Come."

At that remark if he had been human he might have from the tone alone. He snickered silently as he committed a rash bit of humorous impulsiveness and almost sexy innuendo.

For him.

Then he gathered himself, quashing his human slang files down onto the bottom most layers of his information filing system. Apparently he was losing his grip and that wasn't good, not good at all.

Opening the door with head and red chevron held high, he walked in all business. "Good morning, sir," he said, his own well modulated tenor sending rippling tingles up and down the neural epidermis of his leader.

Of course, he didn't know that.

"Prowl," Prime said as a warm smile infused his handsome face. It sent little tingly things up and down Prowl's epidermal plates, too, but of course Prime didn't know that either. "What happened at the enlisted men's barracks? I would have gone myself but General Morshower needed some information on Prague."

Prowl vented a sigh as he sat on a chair next to the desk, his knee just this much removed from Prime's. He swallowed. "It was a … how shall I put this ..."

"Fiasco?" Prime offered as he grinned broadly. He leaned back in his chair as he laced his fingers together ready to be amused to Hell and back.

"Good choice," Prowl said as a small smile formed on his lips.

Prime stared at those lips, the smoothness, the fullness, the softness. He assumed the softness. He hadn't kissed them before.

Yet.

Hopefully.

He quashed his libidinous programming. "Sounds like fun. What are the details? All of them."

Prowl looked up from his datapad for a second as Prime shrugged. "

I need to know what is going on in case this gets out of hand and in case questions come up about it. The twins are very intimidating, after all."

Prowl nodded. "It appears that Sunstreaker has been hanging around where soldiers congregate to listen in. He found out that a number of them were repeating and telling disparaging remarks about us, especially those of us in what they consider 'icky' relationships."

"Icky?" Prime asked searching for the relevant citation. He found it. He frowned. "What is 'icky' about our relationships?"

"Apparently there's a strong element of homophobia in this culture, a stronger affect of it in the military and some people are overt in their personal expressions about it. Male and male relationships and femme and femme relationships aren't held in high esteem on this planet in very many places."

They sat quietly together a moment each thinking about the strangeness of such thinking. It did not exist among the Cybertronians.

"Bad way to get to Sunstreaker, slagging Bluestreak," Prime said quietly.

"I'm not so fond of that myself," Prowl said with an uncharacteristically hard tone to his voice. He'd practically raised the youngster upon finding him wandering dazed and wounded in the aftermath of the destruction of Praxus, his own personal home town as well.

The Praxians among the Autobots had searched long and hard among the debris and dead of their great city to find anyone at all who had survived the annihilation. Prowl had found Bluestreak, hurt, dazed, and mumbling to himself about how he had to go home and find his mother. He had taken Prowl's servo and they had left the dead behind going to an Autobot triage center for help.

For days, Bluestreak followed Prowl everywhere clinging to him, needing him and by the time they left, Bluestreak had become the son that Prowl had never had.

Prowl had made it his responsibility to take care of Blue including 600 years of therapy with Rung and to help him defend himself as part of their army. Blue had never from that moment on been separated from Prowl. Prowl had made sure of it. The hurt and heartache that he, Ironhide and other Praxians felt was assuaged in the good nature and kind youthfulness of Bluestreak.

"Sunny went there to find them," Prowl acknowledged. "Sideswipe was right behind him. He helped."

"Helped?" Prime asked, his optic ridges crooking in surprise.

"Actually, he tried to reason with Sunstreaker."

"I see. Did you find out who was making the remarks and their rationale for doing so?" Prime asked as he gazed with fondness and longing at the red chevron on Prowl's brow when the handsome bot bent his helm to look at the datapad in his hands.

/... so beautiful … I love red … I have a lot of red on me, myself … I wonder how Prowl feels about red? ... I am told it is a good color for me .../

Prowl scrutinized the pad in his hands, aware of the gaze of his commander on his person. He was glad he'd taken a bit of time that morning in the wash racks. The image of mice standing on his face would take a long time in passing. "It was a couple of soldiers, a Johnson and Hedges. They were brought out to apologize and appease the troops as it were but they refused even under orders."

A surprised look crossed Prime's face as Prowl nodded in agreement. "Hot heads on both sides, I see," Prime said grinning slightly.

"It would appear so, sir," Prowl said as the ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "They put their officers on the spot and for that and other reasons they're already on their way back to other shores."

"Lennox sent them away?" Prime said as his optic ridges jotted upward. "Good call. We get enough of this from Galloway."

"Funny you should say that, sir. So did Sunstreaker," Prowl said.

"What did the soldiers say, Prowl? It worries me that there is discord among us. Frankly, I was not aware of it among the soldiers. I see it often enough among the civilians but this has taken me by surprise."

"Me, too, sir," Prowl said shaking his head. He considered the detailed comments that Lennox had shamefacedly given him. He wondered how he could tell the dignified mech sitting in front of him. "I … they're not complimentary, actually, sir. Do you really want to hear them?"

His curiosity piqued, Prime nodded.

Prowl licked his lips nervously and Prime was enchanted.

Prowl shifted in his chair looking at the datapad, holding it tightly, his servos shifting with tension. Prime wanted to rescue him.

Prowl glanced at Prime, looked down, then looked up again focusing his attention on Prime's gentle expression. "Sir, I ..." Prowl said holding up his datapad.

In self defense.

"We are big mechs, Prowl. Soldiers, one and all. Tell me what was said," Prime gently chided.

Prowl nodded schooling his face to a professionalism that he didn't feel. "Yes, sir. It appears that some of them don't like our relationships .That is, our personal ones. Ratchet and Ironhide, for instance. And Sunstreaker and Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Smokescreen, Hound and-"

"All of them essentially," Prime said shaking his head, considering the love that some of his soldiers had found in an escape from the madness of war. Their relationships were the fundamental basic social fabric of their culture and society even as such was among the humans. "Continue," he said acknowledging Prowl's nod. "What actually do they say about them?"

Prowl felt himself fading, his essential social ineptitude rising throughout his circuits as he considered how to tell his Prime some of the remarks the three officers had told him, outlining the miscreant soldier's commentary on the Autobots. He swallowed then focused on the datapad. "They made mention of various homophobic slurs, the usual ones that apply to humans as well, I'm told. Fag, queer, butt boy, sissy. That sort of thing," Prowl said softly, his embarrassment acute on his face and in his aura. "Then they got more specific with acts that they either perceived or imagined for us. Some of them were completely specific to us."

"Such as?" Prime asked as he leaned his elbows on the desk, his eyes riveted on the delicate balance of emotions on Prowl's face. It was clear that Prowl was on the precipice of deeply debilitating embarrassment.

Prowl sat a long time staring at the datapad before looking up, blinking several times in an almost S.O.S of acute distress. "They believe we suck each others USB cables." Prowl swallowed hard, his tanks turning over as he stared at Prime who sat motionlessly staring back.

It seemed unbearable, then Prime pitched forward, his head landing on his desk with a hard thump.

Prowl surprised and stunned, sat a moment, then stood uncertainly, reaching over to touch Prime's shoulder. "Sir?" he asked as his voice began to fill with static, a bad sign of impending glitch. "Sir?" he asked again, nudging Prime gently.

Then Prime moved, his shoulders shaking and from the general direction of his mouth a chuckle began. It rose up in tone and flavor until he sat up to throw back his head as he bellowed laughter to the ceiling.

Prowl standing tensely, stricken and mortified while his optic ridges relocated somewhere around the vicinity of his lower back could only watch Prime with confusion. He personally saw *NOTHING* funny but on and on Prime laughed, the sound magnifying and filtering out through the ducts and door into the corridors beyond.

After a moment, Prowl noticed another person in the room and turned his fritzing optics into the amused gaze of Jazz.

Jazz put his arm around Prowl and squeezed his shoulders as he rested his optics on the convulsing figure of his commanding officer. "This is good."

"No," Prowl said moving his servo around his back to hide the datapad with it.

"I don't know, Prowler," Jazz said grinning at him. "I haven't seen him do this in vorns."

Prime stilled a moment from his hysterical laughing to notice Jazz. "Tell him, Prowl. Tell him what the soldiers said about us." Then he began to laugh again, leaning back to hold his chassis as he belly laughed.

"What did they say?" Jazz said turning toward Prowl with amusement at Prowl's extreme discomfort glowing like radioactivity on his face.

"Frag *no*," Prowl stammered.

Prime stopped laughing to look at Prowl and Jazz with extreme amusement. "Should I tell him?" Prime asked.

"Not while I'm here," Prowl said tossing the datapad on Prime's desk then leaving as fast as he could get around Jazz.

The two of them watched him go, then Jazz pointed at the datapad. "Shall I finish for him?"

Prime nodded with a chuckle. "Oh please do."