Thanks to Moonwallker for the original suggestion and to RagdolDark & Lair of the Twisted Muses for requesting~

Twins part three

There had been no further decepticon attacks, and unsurprisingly no cassettes had been found in the base.

Jazz spent most of his time either curled up on Prowls lap while he worked or curled up under his desk. If he wasn't there, he was in his office trying to get some reports done.

As much as Prowl protested about Jazz cuddling up to him while he was trying to work, he didn't really mind it. It was rather nice, actually. It was just when he was trying to have a serious meeting with someone when it was distracting and he was adverse to it. He'd be halfway through a sentence when Jazz would start purring and everyone would lose their train of thought and just stare at the mech on the tacticians lap wo was deep in recharge, snuggling closer to their mates frame. Primus help him when Jazz started whining.

Prowl tried locking him in their quarters when he had a serious meeting to attend to, but he had forgotten an important factor. There was no such thing as a locked door to a saboteur. Jazz would override the lock in a spark beat and run straight back over to Prowl, forcing himself onto his lap.

Fortunately, right now, the shift was nearly over and there were no more meetings. Ratchet had enforced that Prowls shifts were halved in length after Jazz's spark chamber started swelling from the new sparks. He'd need help getting around at this point, and he'd also need to be kept under a watchful optic as this was the most common stage for the body to reject it and the sparks re-adsorbed.

Helm tucked under his mates chin, Jazz sleepily asked Prowl a question that had been on his mind for a while.

"What're we gonna call 'em?"

Prowl hummed, absently stroking Jazz's hip. "I have a few ideas."

"Ah wanna call one Sweetspark."

Prowl nearly crashed on the spot. "We are not calling anything that sorry excuse of a name."

Jazz laughed, shaking his head. "Ah was only kiddin' mech! Calm ya'self!" Prowl grumbled, signing something on a datapad before placing it on the 'complete' pile. Jazz nudged his chin. "So. Names."

"I am rather partial to Blues."

"Couldn't even imagine why" Jazz replied cheekily, Prowls engine rumbling in amusement.

Jazz's chest had swollen to accommodate the twin sparks alongside his own, and he was now finding it rather difficult to get up on his own. He was now a great source of entertainment, watching him wiggle his legs around like a ladbird on its back in a pitiful attempt to get up until someone took pity upon him and helped. It was always graciously accepted, and Jazz was keeping tabs on those who helped him and those who stood by and laughed. As soon as these twins were out, he swore he'd get his revenge.

Unfortunately, there were new chemicals being released into Jazz's body to help it adapt. These new chemicals made him incredibly emotional and it was often Prowl who had to comfort his mate until the hiccupping stopped and he could form a coherent sentence.

In one of Jazz's emotional outbursts, Prowl discovered the names of the mechs who had helped him so far and those who hadn't. With his new-found knowledge he decided to abuse his power as SIC and change the rotor so that those who had helped had the nice, pleasant shifts that everyone desperately wanted and those who hadn't had the shifts that everyone was desperate to change.

Patrol with Prowl was one such shift.

"Don't get them too beat up Prowlie." Jazz said, quickly kissing him before anyone saw. Prowl was still adverse to public displays of affection, and Jazz didn't want to push it.

"Tell that to the sire coding." He easily replied, affectionately brushing two fingers down his mates cheek before turning to observe the mechs surrounding them. It was a few breems before the start of the morning shift, so there were still mechs milling around, occasionally yawning. A couple of breems later, two mechs ambled towards Prowl. They nodded to him, standing to attention. Taking that as his invite to begin the shift, Prowl bade his mate farewell and the three transformed before they drove out of the base.

Prowl certainly knew how to make someone's life miserable. The lambo twins were notorious for opting to laugh and poke fun at others at their own expense as opposed to helping them when they needed it – Jazz, at the moment, was one of these mechs. As a result, they were constantly on patrol with Prowl. The twins weren't pleased with this at all. So, every night, they returned in a foul mood with a rather cheerful Prowl, which was creepy, and went straight to their quarters.

Pleased Prowl, happy Prowl.

Jazz enjoyed seeing his mate getting his own back in his own little way. As SIC, he couldn't abuse his powers nor could he throw mechs in the brig for what was considered 'stupid reasons' by the mechs aboard the Arc. As handler of the duty rooster, however, he had free reign of who did what and when. Optimus in all his kind glory turned a blind optic to it, remembering in vivid detail how it was while Ratchet was sparked with Hot rod. A lot of mechs and femmes were reluctant to help him in fear of getting a wrench to the helm – many already had, the Prime included. His main argument had been that he was sparked, not disabled.

Something like that.

Jazz had held a similar sentiment to begin with, however Prowl had confiscated his energon blades and other hidden weapons when he had lobbed one at Wheeljack after the scientist had asked him if he wanted a medical grade energon dispenser installed in his quarters so he didn't have to go to the medbay multiple times a day. This did not make the saboteur happy, but if Prowl wanted it he'd do it. Sire protocols made that mech scary.

Towards the end of Jazz's carrying period, Prowl had gotten more and more protective of his carrying mate. It had reached the point where Ratchet had forced him to take a medical leave after Prowl had nearly seriously injured a human who had gotten too close to Jazz for his liking. So, Prowl sat with Jazz in their quarters, doing his reports from there.

It was silent until Prowl received a comm. from Blaster.

::We're receiving a call::

::Who's it from?::

::I don't know. They're claiming to be a group of neutrals::

Prowl stood up. ::Are there any humans in the base?::

::Nope::

::I'm on my way. Don't do anything until I get there::

Prowl swiftly left their quarters after explaining the situation to Jazz, and ran down to teletraan-1. He nodded to Blaster who pressed a few buttons and the screen lit up with the faces of his and Jazz's Sire.

"Sire!" Prowl yelped, nearly stumbling backwards. He thought his sire was dead!

"It's good to see you, Prowl."

"How did you find us?"

"Through hard work and determination. Are we allowed to land?"

Several joors later, a shuttle was landing around a mile away from the Autobot base. Prowl was waiting for the new arrivals with Ratchet, Optimus and Ironhide. Jazz hadn't been told that his Sire was aboard as he'd insist that he had to be there, and everyone knew that it would send Prowl haywire. Last week he'd shot an ant with an acid pellet for crawling on Jazz's pede. An ant.

Prowl was pleasantly surprised to see that both his Sire and Carrier were aboard. They ignored his protests about being hugged and both cuddled him, much to the other mechs amusement. Both of Jazz's creators left the shuttle along with a few other neutrals whom Prowl did not recognise.

"We won't stay for long. We're a little short on fuel." A neutral who appeared to be the pilot assured the Prime. Optimus nodded.

"Very well."

When Prowl returned to his quarters, Jazz was recharging on the sofa. Their creators were in the medbay getting checked out by the medical team to ensure they were all still in working condition, and they'd expressed their eagerness to see Jazz.

Because of the war, Prowl and Jazz had never actually gotten round to telling their Creators that they'd bonded, much less that they'd bonded to each other. Prowl wasn't sure how their creators would react to this.

None the less, they had to do it. He gently shook Jazz awake.

"Someone wants to see you."

"Who is it?" Jazz asked, tiredly rubbing his optics behind his visor. Prowl helped him stand and steadied him when he stumbled, not quite fully awake yet.

"Our creators." Jazz stalled before he looked up at Prowl.

"What?"

"They're paying Earth a visit while their ship gets refuelled and the repairs it needs. They want to see you."

Jazz was immediately scrambling towards the door. Prowl could feel his excitement flooding through the bond, and it was starting to batter him. "Jazz, could you tone it down a little?"

"Ah, meh bad" Jazz meekly replied, restraining himself. The pair walked down to the medbay and entered as Jazz's Sire was just finishing up his check up.

"Jazzy!"

Prowl had to grab onto something and hold tightly onto it to stop himself from lunging at Jazz's Sire, who had seen fit to launch himself at his creation. Prowl refused to give into the Sire protocols demands and protect Jazz because there was nothing to protect him from, and clawing out an innocent neutrals optics was not on the top of his to-do list.

Everyone was staring at Prowl.

He awkwardly detached himself from what he had latched onto and tried to look normal, although his doorwings gave away his agitation. Jazz was trying his best to stop his Sire from giving him the hug he desperately wanted to and his optics kept on shifting between his sire and Prowl, making sure Prowl wasn't suddenly going to pounce on his sire and make them have a repeat of the Soundwave incident.

Prowls Sire, a mech called Viridian, was being checked up by Ratchet, and he was watching the black and white pair with a thoughtful expression. "Prowl, why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Jazz is sparked, isn't he." It wasn't a question – more of a statement. Prowl shyly looked down and nodded.

From the other side of the medbay Jazz's carrier, a femme called Rhythm, could be heard squealing. "Ooh that's lovely! Why didn't you tell us?"

Prowl felt his faceplates slowly start to heat up, but Jazz's Sire immediately stepped away from Jazz. Prowls doorwings relaxed slightly now that nobody was trying to touch Jazz. "We didn' know ya were alive." Jazz said, standing beside Prowl and massaging the area between both his doorwings with magnetic impulses. "If we did, ya'd be the firs' ta know."

"I hope not." Ratchet commented as he snapped a panel on Prowls Sires leg shut. "You're good."

Viridian hopped down and started popping his joints back into position. Prowls Carrier, a mech called Amethyst, glared at him, giving him a small slap. "Not so loudly!" he quietly hissed. Viridian just smirked and carried on, trying his hardest to make it sound even louder.

Ratchet restrained himself from throwing a wrench at the mech. If he popped a joint and he had to fix it...

"So, my guess is Prowl's the Sire?"

"Yup!" Jazz chirped, grinning widely. Amethyst clapped his hands together, optics glittering.

"So I take it you also bonded?"

You couldn't hide anything from your parents could you?

Prowl nodded and Rhythm squealed again, the medic giving her a check up looking a little nervous. He wondered if she had a few loose screws. "That's wonderful! I always knew you'd end up together!"

"It's a shame we never made a betting pool." Prowls Carrier commented.

Prowl growled, doorwings rising slightly. They'd already made a betting pool from when they were in the academy – Primus wouldn't have been able to save them if they'd betted on whether or not they'd end up bonding.

The medic had finished with Rhythm, and she happily trotted over to them. "How's it been without us?"

'Peaceful' was the first word to come to Prowls mind and he was about to voice this until Jazz shot him a harsh glare. He immediately bit his glossa. That was a glare that promised pain. Instead, he chose to go with the safer route.

"It's been different. Up until a few joor ago we all thought you were dead."

"I love your faith in us!" Amethyst chided, a small smile breaking out on their face.

"The 'cons did wipe out a lot of neutral groups." Jazz pointed out. "We thought tha' ya were part of 'em."

"Our group was, for the most part, destroyed. That much is true. We were very lucky to have survived it."

A few cycles later, their shuttle was fully repaired and they were preparing to leave. Jazz was getting incredibly emotional at the thought of his creators leaving again. He hadn't seen them since the war really started to heat up – even if you ignored the time he was in stasis, it was still a very long time ago.

Jazz was clinging onto his creators with coolant streaming down his faceplates, and Prowls Sire was clinging onto Prowl for entirely different reasons. Prowls doorwings had shot up into an aggressive v-shape when Jazz started clinging onto the other mech and femme, showing his displeasure. If Jazz weren't sparked, he would have been fine with it. They were his creators for Primus sake; there was nothing wrong with them at all. Sire protocols seemed to think otherwise and they were screaming at him to get his aft over there and beat them into the ground.

Eventually, Jazz's creators were freed and back into their shuttle along with the other neutrals. He was standing beside Prowl, trying to coax his doorwings back down into their neutral position while their Prime was given the shuttles personal comm. number. After being assured that they would contact them should the need arise, the shuttle took off and left, a white trail the only thing it left behind.

I'm going to start titling these things so they're a tad easier to find. Bleh.

Optimus/Ratchet is an OTP of mine Please don't hurt me

~Llama