Continuation of chapter 9, I believe? Someone wanted to see more so here you go – for you!

Twins part 2

To say that Prowl was excited would be an understatement.

He was having sparklings! With Jazz! He was having sparklings with the love of his life – who wouldn't be excited? Okay, maybe Red alert wouldn't be too enthusiastic (think of the security threats a sparkling was capable of) and it made them a slightly bigger target to the decepticons but all of that waned in the fact that they were going to be creators.

Jazz was itching to run around the Ark screaming that he was sparked, but Prowl kept a firm grip on his shoulder. He would most certainly not be running around screaming. He'd excite the dinobots and Prowl was in too good a mood to deal with the idiots, who would without a doubt follow Jazz, even if they didn't know why he was so happy, and destroy everything.

Again.

"Aw Prowler, please!" Jazz begged, giving Prowl a pathetic look. He rested his chin on Prowls chest and looked up at him with a kicked puppy expression.

"No. We can't allow the base to be destroyed again; we need all the resources we have." He replied, tapping Jazz's chest. "Especially with the little ones."

Jazz nodded, absently rubbing his chestplates. A small smile broke out on his face.

"Ah'm a carrier." He murmured almost dreamily, his free hand seeking his mates and tightly clasping it when he found it. Prowl squeezed back, barely suppressing a smile himself.

"They'd better be cute. Primus damn adorable." Jazz said, looking back up at Prowl. Prowl laughed, nuzzling his mate.

"With you, they will be."

A carrying Jazz was not a happy Jazz.

His audial horns had been made more sensitive, and he couldn't stand to listen to loud music with a good beat anymore. That cut out at least 90% of his favourite songs. This also meant that any parties that were being held were out of the question for him.

This meant that Jazz had a very limited range of songs to listen to, or he had to face the silence. He didn't know how Prowl did it – it was driving him insane! Sure, he could stand the silence for vorns on missions but he had to then. It was that or die, quite frankly, and Jazz was a big fan of living.

But this was different!

And damn, he really wanted some oil cake right now.

He was very tempted to call Prowl and ask him to get him some, however something told him that it was best to look in the kitchenette first, or he'd have a very peeved Prowl on his case.

He snooped around a little, opening up random cupboards before he spotted a cooling unit. He opened it and cheered – oil cakes! Yes!

He took one out, sitting crossed legged on the floor like a young child and started nibbling away on the sweet confection. Ratchet had warned them that Jazz would be suffering from cravings during his carrying period and it appeared that oil cakes were the answer.

Happily munching away, Jazz closed the lid to the cooling unit and relaxed. It also turned out that Jazz was a lazy carrier and didn't like to work too much. Prowl had to work for even longer now to pick up the slack. Jazz desperately tried to focus on his work so his mate wouldn't work himself to an early deactivation, but it was hard. One moment he'd be working on a report and the next he'd be fantasising about a nap, even if he'd just had one.

However, Optimus understood this. As a sire himself to a mech called Hot rod, he allowed Prowl to leave his office whenever he wished and late datapads were acceptable. For this, Prowl was thankful.

Not as if he actually took advantage of that though. Carrying mate or not, work was still important. Jazz did not like this mentality, but that was mostly his new and improved view of reports speaking. So when Prowl returned to their quarters, exhausted and ready to just flop down and recharge until he had to get up again, Jazz was quick to pounce and smother him with kisses. "Ah missed ya today." He said in between them. Prowl reached up and stroked the back of his helm, prompting Jazz to purr and lean into the touch.

It didn't take Prowl long to fall into recharge when he went to berth, Jazz following soon after.

It turned out that Prowls sire protocols had already kicked in.

There was a decepticon attack on a power plant, and as Jazz was still in the fairly early stages of carrying it was relatively safe for him to go out, provided he didn't take a kick in the chest or be on the receiving end of a hard blow. Being Special Ops, avoiding hits was a speciality. So, both black and whites rolled out of the base after their leader.

Soundwave had made the rather unfortunate decision to attack the Saboteur. Prowl did not like this. He definitely did not like this.

The battle drew to a standstill as the two faced off. Prowl was going nuts, kicking and punching any part of Sounwave he could get to. While to the outside world it looked completely random and frenzied, there was method to the madness. He was shredding up his joints to limit his movement so he couldn't attack or eject his cassettes. That was at least five decepticons now out for the count. While Jazz watched, a little shocked that Prowl was on the front lines using his body as opposed to being toward the back with his acid rifle, directing the others Megatron and Optimus shared a look.

"What the frag is wrong with your Second in Command?" Megatron growled. Optimus couldn't reply with 'sire protocols' as that would raise the question of whom was sparked and so who were they meant to be killing. Instead, he settled with something far less dignifying.

"Bad mood."

Megatron gave him a look that told him he knew he was lying, however he didn't comment any further on it. He glanced back over to where Prowl was beating up his Third in Command and saw that Jazz was now trying to pull Prowl away as Soundwaves visor had gone dark. His optics narrowed slightly and he growled before swinging around and punching Optimus square in the face, knocking him back a fair bit.

He gave the order to retreat, picking up Soundwave and leaving with him. Prowl was still breathing heavily, doorwings flared aggressively and optics locked on Soundwaves retreating form. Clearly, Soundwave had just made himself a mortal enemy of Prowl.

Soundwaves energon was dripping down him, a few splatters on his face and chest. Most of it was on his hands, as he had used those to actually tear the joints apart, and it was now dripping onto the floor. Jazz had some on him from when he was pulling Prowl away so he wouldn't brutally murder the mech. He'd never be able to live with himself if he did, and Jazz knew that.

"Ya really went ta town there, didn' ya?" Jazz said, wiping a splatter off of his face. Prowls optics dimmed and he pressed his face into the touch. He intertwined their fingers together, ignoring the feeling of energon in him joints, and turned so that his lip plates were brushing against Jazz's palm. "For you." He murmured. Jazz felt somewhat prideful and leaned forwards to press a kiss onto his face when the sound of Ratchet shouting distracted him.

The medic was making a bee-line towards Prowl, looking slightly pissed. Okay, he looked very pissed. Incredibly pissed.

"What were you thinking?!" He shouted, giving Prowl a whack. "You could have exposed the fact your mate is carrying!" He hissed before facing Jazz. "And you! You should know better than to engage Soundwave!"

Jazz tried to explain that he literally didn't see him coming, but Ratchet shut him up by starting to inspect him and ran a few scans on him. Satisfied that Jazz was unharmed, he rounded onto Prowl.

He grumbled and growled, displeased at what he was seeing. "Have you turned off your pain receptors?"

"No."

Ratchet raised his eyebrows. Clearly, Prowl had an injury that should be hurting. A lot.

"You might want to. Once the buzz wears off it'll do more than sting."

"What will?"

"You've got a hole in your leg Prowl."

Two pairs of optics immediately looked down. Sure enough, there was a sizeable chunk missing from Prowls leg and energon was oozing out of it Soundwave had managed to land a hit. Surprising, given the speed Prowl was moving at.

"Oh."

Jazz squeaked, kneeling down next to Ratchet. "Prowler-!"

"Will be fine." Ratchet snapped, doing basic repair work on his leg so the energon stopped flowing out. "Don't even think about writing a report, I want you in my medbay the moment you're back on base."

"Of course."

Prowl was starting to feel the tingling pain of his leg and he winced a little. Wow. Wow. How didn't he feel that one?

Jazz looked slightly concerned, and was about to tell him to turn off the pain receptors until he was interrupted by their Prime telling them all to transform and return to base. The pair looked at each other before swiftly transforming and speeding away to the base after their Prime.

I had this typed up on my phone – I was an idiot and forgot about it for days.

~Llama