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Starcrossed 13: Tyger Pax
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Prowl did one final check of their supplies as he looked around the space that had meant safety and peace for the first time in so long. In addition to drinking as much as they could physically handle and still drive, they'd each packed as much energon and valuable consumables as they could into their subspace pockets. Prowl had a list of how much could be missing from each shelf and each storeroom before it raised alarms when the staff was sent ahead to determine what was needed for the coming season. Which, really, was very little at all. So as long as they left a decaorn's worth for the small staff coming to inventory and clean, no one would question the exact amount. His half-brother had also given him a list of small valuables that wouldn't be missed, so those were stashed away as well.

Between them, they were carrying a small fortune in their subspace. At least, a small fortune for the class of mecha they were now: common transient workers.

Prowl missed his wings, but the heavy industrial frame he wore with little adornment and even less appeal in dark, muddy greens was far more suited to their cover. Even Jazz's frame, though it was more elegant than his with long slender arms and a bit of color, was a solidly industrial design. Just meant for different work than Prowl's. Jazz was going to do repetitive, fiddly work. Prowl, if he couldn't get something in accounting, inventory or management was going to do basic grunt work. Probably on the docks.

Jazz came up behind him and ran his fingers over Prowl's shoulders, then wrapped his arms around them and squeezed. "I'll miss this place," he said. "A decaorn of nothing to think about but where you were and how quickly I could get you into berth."

Prowl chuckled and leaned into the contact lightly. "I will miss it as well. It is likely the best living we'll have in a very long time to come. Are you ready to travel?"

Jazz nuzzled against the back of Prowl's helm. "Ready in the sense that I am physically prepared and capable, yes."

"The rest won't come with time," Prowl turned and kissed him softly, allowing the embrace they both craved to happen. "I know. If it was feasible, I would gladly join this household or any number of others. But we must make our own way, for the sake of our sparklings."

"I know," Jazz sighed, hand coming up over his spark, where he could feel both the presence of the newsparks and Vortex's increasingly focused pressure against the block. "All right. Let's go." He paused, then pulled Prowl into one more deep, lingering kiss. "Now let's go," he said, grinning, as he stepped away and palmed open the door.

Prowl laughed, an intentional effort to make himself look less like himself and followed his lover out. They transformed smoothly and drove to the main road to Tyger Pax in comfortable silence. It would be a long drive, almost half way around the planet, but it was a very well traveled one by all kinds of mecha moving to and from the industrial core of Cybertron. It was an easy mass to become lost in and it made them both relax a bit.

SxSxSxSxSxSxSxSx S===================S SxSxSxSxSxSxSxS

It was two weary, travel-filthy mecha who finally made it through the door of the apartment-if it could be called that, with a single berth, a scant amount of storage space, and no washracks. They would have to find the public washracks later, but right now, the need to rest and refuel was more important.

"Getting worse," Jazz said, leaning heavily against the wall as he pulled a cube and started downing it. Prowl wrapped his arms in support of the much lighter looking but no less light mech.

"I'll see what I can do," Prowl kissed the side of his helm gently. "There are options, even if they aren't good ones."

"I just need recharge," Jazz said, shaking his head, knowing what those options were. He finished the cube and sighed when it didn't quiet the fuel alerts, pulling another. "Just recharge. I'll be fine."

Prowl caressed Jazz's cheek. "Are you sure?"

Jazz turned gratefully into the touch, resting against his lover, field flaring out quiet gratitude. " Yes. Already feels better now that I'm not driving." He drank half the cube, saw the alert switch off, and offered the rest to Prowl.

Prowl accepted it but caught his lover's mouth in a warm, undemanding kiss full of affection before drawing away enough to down the rest. He noted with no small amount of relief that his levels were at 71% and he didn't feel ill. He could try pushing it to 73% when they got up. "Then let's recharge together. That drive was a long time not to hold you."

Jazz hummed in agreement, wanting just the same thing, as he was guided to the simple metal sheet with the thinnest of shaving mattresses to press up against his love and recharge.

It was an evening cycle that become almost ritual as they began to seek work in the industrial core of their world. Must as Prowl had anticipated, mecha physically capable of doing fine detail work were well below demand here and Jazz was quickly offered a contract of reasonable terms for his efforts. Prowl did not have such an easy time. Specialties such as his were few, and typically handed down to apprentices, not part of the open job market. So after more than a full decaorn of trying every factory and business he could find, when the foremech of a warehouse told him that he didn't have any openings Prowl wanted, but he did need labor on the dock, Prowl took it.

His first orn made him ache as much as a full-frame rebuild. It was the first time since their escape that he hadn't been able to rouse enough interest when Jazz had caressed him to respond. The second and third orns weren't much better. His fourth orn on the job had gotten him noticed by both his coworkers and the foremech when he'd quietly suggested a way to organize the dock trucks so things moved faster.

By the tenth orn he was sure he had enough credibility to make a bid for the supply apprentice position if the current one stopped showing up. The mech was a bit of a lost processor already, and it wouldn't seem too out of character for him to get worse.

He was pondering that, sitting on the berth, when Jazz walked in. He paused at the door for long enough to lock it, before he crossed over and sat next to Prowl, nuzzling him. "You look worn out," Jazz murmured.

"I am learning to truly despise manual labor," Prowl grumbled, leaning into the contact. "It will be in the past soon, I hope."

"Mm, my sexy lover has a plan," Jazz hummed, and nipped at Prowl's jaw. He twisted at the waist, dropping his mouth down alongside Prowl's neck, kissing and nibbling as he went. His hand slid over to brush the inside of Prowl's thigh. "Too busy thinking?" he asked quietly, offering Prowl an easy out into recharge if his lover was too tired and didn't want to admit it.

"No," Prowl turned his face towards Jazz and caught him in a warm kiss. "I have the energy for a little fun, if you'll be on top."

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