Starcrossed

by Gatekat

G1 AU, Jazz/Prowl, Jazz/Vortex Jazz is the second creation of a Noble House that's fallen on hard times. He's promised as the subordinate mate to a wealthy commoner in exchange for a great deal of credits. It's only when he meets his future mate that things get bad.

41. The Interview

Starcrossed 41: The Interview
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ =================== ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even half destroyed, Iacon was impressive to drive towards, though neither mech was much on taking it in, both working to deal with memories of that long-ago time when they'd been here last. It felt like lifetimes, and in a way it had been. Traffic was much lighter, the war having reduced inter-city travel to a minimum, but the datanet was still live when Prowl pinged it for visitor information on where to stay and he quietly led his mate to a hotel on the nice end of cheap. They didn't have many credits, but Prowl considered it worth it to feel safe walking out the door.

The mech checking them in didn't make small talk. It wasn't a good thing anymore. Most mecha didn't have happy reasons to need a room and Prowl gave him no reason to think that they were any different. They were desperate, just not in the way most who came were. Still, it was a relief to retreat into the relative privacy of a room they didn't need to share and a berth that was soft enough for Prowl's tastes, even if he no longer had doorwings.

Without a sound Prowl drew his lover against him and onto the berth, fingers brushing over an interface port and a dataport as he claimed Jazz's mouth. They spiraled open for him immediately as a leg ran up along his, glossas swirling together.

~Ready for the morning, love?~ Prowl moaned and sent the first pulse of pleasure along the hardline as both his interface panels slid open.

~Yes,~ Jazz breathed, arching against him, spike jutting out and valve slick after just the few exchanges of charge. ~We're here, we're ready, no matter what happens.~

~Yes,~ Prowl moaned, shivering in anticipation. ~And right in this moment, we have time to ourselves.~ He continued the kiss as he rolled Jazz to his back and gently pinned him. ~Whatever happens, my love,~ he slammed his spike home, driving their arrays together in a single motion. ~Whatever happens, we are together.~

Jazz groaned, helm thrown back and valve quivering around his mate. ~Yes, love,~ he moaned, hands tight on Prowl's shoulders. ~I decided that ... if they don't accept us, if they think we should be wiped, I'd rather beg for execution or take our own sparks.~

~Only if we can't escape,~ Prowl agreed without hesitation as he began to thrust deep and hard, taking his mate as completely as he could. ~I will not continue without remembering both of you.~

Jazz shuddered and wrapped arms and legs around his lover, keeping him pulled tight and flush as he bucked back against him. ~Yes, always, love you so much,~ he managed, and then gave in to the driving, pounding force, losing himself to their frames and this secluded moment that served as an oasis from the rest of their life. The kiss muted their cries of pleasure through overload after overload, as not a single arrangement of two frames was left out by the time they collapsed and shut down into a blissfully empty recharge.

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

No one looked very long or very hard when two Praxians left the room the next morning, carrying everything they owned with them, and made their way up to the center of Iacon and the archives that had been turned into a military base and stronghold, and the current residence of the Prime.

The former center of government power had been destroyed and the Senate along with it, so the new Prime and his officers had taken up in the most defensible building in the city, one that also contained their cultural history and had become a treasure of great symbolic importance to the mecha who lived here. It looked different, reinforced and fortified to withstand future attacks, but there was no mistaking the grand entrance, and now Prowl was looking up at doors he had last walked through hand-in-hand with Radiance and now walked through with Jazz for a very different reason.

The small mech that was waiting behind a desk in the grand lobby looked up at them. "Yes?"

"We're here about the Prime's offer," Jazz said, hand curled around Prowl's arm as they stood side by side. "Amnesty for service."

The mech's optics lit up a little brighter and he immediately pulled out two forms, one for each. "Fill these out, please, and then you will need to wait here while I review them."

Prowl accepted the two datapads with a small nod, handed one to Jazz and they moved off to a small table to fill them out. It wasn't lost on either how many times the mech looked up at them from the desk. They took a long time to fill them out, and Prowl had to provide many details for Jazz's form.

The reception mech was still there when they finished, and smiled as he took the forms. "If you'd wait over there, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Jazz nodded, x-vented, and noticeably settled his field so the rippling spikes of anxiety that had been growing as they'd listed everything asked for would smooth. "Forgot about a few of those," he said, leaning over with a hint of a smile.

"Remembering such details was never your function," Prowl chuckled and kissed him lightly before drawing his mate to a bench to sit and wait.

"Primus we've had some fun in our vorns," Jazz said, settling against him, head back against the wall, grinning.

"That we have," Prowl smiled and shifted to tuck Jazz's doorwinged frame against his own. "It feels good to look like this again."

"Mmm, yes it does," Jazz agreed with a loving kiss that they continued to exchange, uncaring of the time until a cycled vocalizer drew their attention to the reception mech.

"If you'll follow me?" he asked, gesturing through the doorway in the back. Tension rippled across two frames as they stood, torn between bolting at the implication of a cage and the implication that they'd passed the first test. "The Prime wishes to speak with you," he elaborated.

Prowl nodded and gently tugged his mate to follow. Another forceful resettling of Jazz's field as they were led back into a grand chamber, where they found themselves face to face with a judgment panel. The Prime was in the middle, and quick ID pings named the others. On Prime's right sat Ironhide, Ultra Magnus and Kup. On his left were Springer and Whiplash.

Pleasant, flickering surprise went through Jazz's field but he didn't show it in his frame other than a tighter squeeze of Prowl's hand. The familiar presence amongst the intimidating faces helped with the anxiety. They'd been expecting to submit a form and hear back, they hadn't been expecting this. This was judgment, plain and clear.

"We have gathered to review your submission," the Prime said in a deep, rumbling voice as the reception mech backed out with a respectful bow. "Hard choices were made in by many in order to survive, and I believe that every living being deserves another chance. In order for this offer to be available to you, you understand that full, willful disclosure of all crimes and requested data is necessary?"

"We understand," Prowl and Jazz said in unison, both canting their doorwings and bowing their helms in the mixed signals of respect and acceptance that most in Praxus who went to the outside learned to do.

"Do you swear on your sparks that you have not knowingly omitted anything requested on the forms?" Prime asked formally as the officers there began finishing reading. Of them, only Whiplash didn't seem overly concerned or at all surprised, but Jazz and Prowl both knew he realized who they were. Somewhat to their surprise, the small black mech said nothing, but he did give them a small smile and nod.

"We swear," Prowl said easily and smoothly. "Any mistakes are mine."

The Prime offered them a reassuring optic glow as the last of the officers, Kup, finished skimming and set it down with a heavy x-vent, looking exhausted just from reading.

"Well," the Prime said when Kup finally looked up, and there was an almost amused tone to his voice that surprised them. "It's slightly off topic, but I feel the need to chastise you both, before we move to open questioning."

Jazz and Prowl gave each other a startled look before looking back at him, standing up straight.

"Ariel was sparkbroken when Susun and Tansi never returned to Tyger Pax," the Prime said, leaning back, fingers laced and resting on the table.

Despite the level of bewilderment both Praxian frames showed, Prowl found an answer. "We did what we thought was necessary to survive. How do you know Ariel?"

"Before I became Optimus Prime, I was Orion Pax," the Prime said, rubbing a hand over his faceplate. "It is a surprise to meet such an old friend, but if I have learned anything over these last centuries, it is that anything is possible."

"We have learned much the same," Jazz said, starting to feel better about their chances.

"Do you understand why we did not return?" Prowl asked cautiously.

"Well," Optimus said heavily, picking the datapad up and scrolling back up through it. "From this, I am guessing that you left due to complications with the carry, and your identities were compromised somehow. You have an impressive list of identities. Are you ready for open questioning? Some of these require explanation."

"Yes, sir," Prowl canted his doorwings respectfully.

"Which is Jazz an' which is Prowl?" Ironhide asked from the Prime's right.

"I'm Jazz," Jazz answered, and then held his hand up to his mouth with an odd giggle, earning himself some sharp looks. "Sorry-haven't said that in a couple millennia."

Most of them were frowning at him. "There are an alarming number of murders here," Ironhide continued. "In both of yer histories, and it starts with you," he looked at Jazz. "Why did it start?"

"Survival," Jazz said simply. "Everything started with trying to survive the mech I was forced to bond to. Making him happy so he wouldn't kill one of us."

"Who is that?" Ultra Magnus asked.

Jazz shuddered, unable to bring himself to say that designation despite trying. He found himself in his mate's arms, held and murmured to until the tremors stopped.

"Vortex of Kaon," Prowl managed, his attention still on his mate. His vocalizer stuttered a bit, but he continued. "Now a Decepticon financer."

"We know of him," Ultra Magnus rumbled. "And I don't think a spark who was alive then didn't hear about the botnapped noble twin carrier, but... I'm going to take a leap and suggest that was not the case."

"It absolutely wasn't," Jazz said, engines growling. "Prowl saved me, everything we have done was to survive and be together. We never wanted this, when we could live legally we did, albeit under assumed designations. We worked, honestly and legally. Mostly."

"Yeah, the designing a credit cleaning system for illegal weapons sales didn't look too legal," Ironhide said.

"The work itself was legal," Prowl defended himself quietly. "What it was used for was separate from what I was hired to do."

"What else did you do?" Optimus asked curiously.

"We worked the docks, odd jobs," Prowl inclined his helm to them. "Jazz danced, I did accounting. We were buymecha. I was an Enforcer in Praxus. Jazz was SpecOps there."

All optics went to Whiplash, who nodded. "Saxo was one of my best interrogators, my protégé. Pantera had a tactical processor I never did stop trying to recruit but he was too dedicated to the Enforcers."

"Whiplash joined us under the same offer that drew you here," Optimus explained, looking at them. "It seems you have skills of value."

"We were unaware that our skills would be part of the decision," Jazz said. "We're here offering to serve, and we want to start a life free from our pasts. We want to stop Megatron. You are our best option."

"We haven't managed much on our own since Praxus fell," Prowl admitted quietly.

"A look at this says otherwise," Kup said, tapping their forms, which included crimes that had been illegal in Decepticon territory when they were committed.

"We didn't manage much towards what we want," Jazz said. "That's why we're here."

"Yeh, but it ain't an open door policy," Ironhide growled. "We need to be sure that nothin' too unpalatable is gettin' in."

"Yes, can we circle back around to being bonded to a well-known Decepticon and criminal?" Ultra Magnus said, frowning deeply. "Your public records from Kaon seem to be unrecoverable-was the bond physical, legal, or both?"

"Both," Jazz said quietly.

"Vortex still lives," the mech said.

Jazz nodded. "To our dismay."

"Much as you may personally dislike that fact," Ultra Magnus said, "We have to consider that you are spark bonded to a Decepticon."

Prowl regarded the large blue and white mech evenly. "We have told you the complete truth, given you enough information to destroy us, and you question our trustworthiness?"

Unsaid, but plainly clear in his tone was the statement that the Autobots were just as much under judgment here, and currently found rather lacking. It caused more than a few defensive armor ripples among the panel, Prime and Whiplash the notable exceptions.

"Ain't yer trustworthiness comin' into question here," Ironhide growled. "It's yer ability to keep things like a location from leakin' across."

Jazz stared at him. "Ya think we'd still be alive if he could sense my location?"

"Ya think we're willing to take that chance?" the red mech asked, equally incredulous.

"One moment's slip in concentration from one mech cannot hold so much risk," Ultra Magnus said. "We can grant your pardon, but I'm sorry, that is too much."

Jazz opened his mouth for a sharp argument, but the Prime cleared out his vocalizer again and stood, silencing everyone.

"Their pardon and their terms of service are my decision alone to make," he said, then looked left, and right, making optic contact with all of his officers. "If you will excuse us, I would like to speak with them alone."

"Leave ya alone with these two?" Ironhide objected immediately, waving the datapad at Prime even as most of the others got up to leave.

Whiplash came around to clasp Jazz on the shoulder as Optimus chuckled and assured his officer he was more than capable of handling himself. "It's good to see you survived. I wish you'd made contact earlier though."

Jazz pulled him into a tight hug. "That life hurt too much to remember," he said quietly, and let the pain that he'd been suppressing in his field curl out. "Wasn't expecting to see you. Not sure I was even ready."

Whiplash nodded his understanding and held still until his agent let go. "I'm going to want you back, if you can still take it."

"I can still take it," Jazz promised him. "Believe me, that hasn't changed."

"Good," Whiplash looked at Prowl. "And you?"

"I'm agreeable now," he said evenly.

Whiplash gave a last nod and slipped from the room, locking the door behind him.

Optimus regarded them silently, then stood and came around to stand in front of them, showing his full height as he did. "You have suffered," he said simply, frowning, as he came within teeking range. "You are not ... whole. Pieces of you are missing."

"My creations, our creations, Radiance," Prowl listed with a flare of grief that settled quickly. "Our home, both of our functions. There is little left of what we were intended to be, and even less left of who we were most happy as."

"You will find many who know similar pain," Optimus sighed, and carefully lowered himself down so he was sitting before them, gesturing for them to do the same. They did and he reached for each of their hands. "I need your consent before we continue."

"Consent for what?" Jazz asked, immediately wary.

"A spark merge," Optimus said.

"Given," Prowl murmured even before he really thought about what was being asked of him.

"I can't," Jazz lowered his gaze. "Not unwilling, just unable."

Optimus frowned and reached his hand out, touching it to Jazz's chest. "You are caged," he finally said, and shook his head. "The illegal hardware you purchased in Crystal City?"

Jazz cocked his head with a hint of a smile. "Exactly."

"May I see?"

Something about the Prime's field was putting Jazz more at ease with him than he'd felt with any mecha besides his mates, and he nodded once, opening his chest.

"I see," Optimus murmured once he saw the black crystal, brushing careful fingers over it. He looked back to Prowl. "But the connection between you is strong, beyond your life and your sparks. A merge with just one will speak for you both."

Prowl looked at his mate, who nodded. "Thank you. What do you wish to see?"

"All I need to see and feel is your spark," Optimus said gently. "I must be certain that what I have seen of your past will not show itself in a way that harms innocents in the future."

Prowl nodded, unsure of the answer himself, but he unlocked his armor and offered his spark to this mech that had seen as many unwanted revisions to his existence as Prowl had.

"Thank you," the Prime murmured, and he wrapped gentle hands around Prowl's waist, lowering the Praxian onto his back next to his mate before his own spark came forward.

Jazz saw the flashing of the Matrix within his chest as the warm blue spark met with his lover's, joining together. A surge of envy went through him and the Prime turned his head to look at him, optics almost white in that moment, before looking back down, and their frames locked into place.

~You have incredibly strength, my creation,~ a voice whispered to Prowl, backed by a planet-trembling power, pure and raw. ~Strength that has been caged by your frame, love and pain and loss all held in careful check. And hate. Your fury has been held in equal check. You are loyal and dedicated. You will serve with true joy.~

Serve.

A single word-glyph that encompassed all that made Prowl's spark ripple with pleasure and settle in the calm pulses of contentment. Merely the prospect of serving once more made Prowl moan deeply with want and surrendered completely to the merge and the mech who could offer such a thing to him.

A warm, understanding flare wrapped around him before it turned serious again. ~You know the other living piece of your spark better than anyone. Is he good?~

~Yes.~ Prowl answered without hesitation or reservation. ~He is a good mech, a good spark. All he wishes is to be free to be with us.~

~You will wait many ages before you are whole again,~ the voice said sadly. ~If it happens at all. I accept your submission.~

A flare of light, and energy flooded into Prowl, overwhelming his frame into an immediate overload, one echoed by the Prime above him, joy at feeling the pleasure of another.

It all happened in kliks before Prowl found his spark separating, and himself looking up at Optimus Prime.

"That ... was not you." Prowl murmured, trying to wrap his processors around something he could no longer comprehend.

"It was, and it was not," Optimus said, slowly moving away. He looked to Prowl's anxious mate. "Your amnesty is granted. I find your triad union in Praxus to be wholly legal, you are granted full bonded status and rights. I suspect Whiplash will want you for service. Temporary quarters have been arranged until then."

"Thank you," Jazz said as calmly as he could, doorwings quivering with excitement.

"What ... what was it?" Prowl hadn't moved, his entire awareness wrapped around the question of what had touched his spark and a building panic that he was wrong about Primus and the Well and all it implied. Even as he could no longer recall why he didn't believe or why Primus being real invoked such terror in him, it built to the point where the hack cracked down on the emotions and forced him to calm. He realized that in his growing panic Jazz had reached for him and he hadn't even felt it, and the Prime was giving him a concerned look.

"The Matrix causes those it binds with to undergo a great deal of change," Optimus said slowly. "Down to spark level, I ... I am aware during a merge, but I am also connected to others through that in a way I was not previously. It allows me to sense more about a spark."

Prowl shivered, but nodded. "I think we will speak on it more, later. But with all that power ... can you break the spark bond between Jazz and Vortex?"

He felt Jazz's grip tighten hopefully but the Prime shook his head.

"A spark bond is eternal between its connection points so long as they live," Optimus said. "I'm sorry, I know that would be a great joy for you."

"We've survived this long like this," Jazz said, nuzzling his mate.

"Then we will never be free of that monster," Prowl's voice leveled even as his field twisted with despair.

Jazz turned Prowl's head towards him for a soft kiss. "We still find joy. It is our best vengeance."

Prowl nodded weakly as he internally set himself to rights enough for public display and faced the former dock worker who had claimed him as a friend. "Thank you for accepting us, and our legal triad bond with Radiance. We will serve you the best we can."

Optimus nodded and regarded them somberly. "It is unlikely we will meet Vortex in battle, but if he is ever captured, there is more than enough evidence of his crimes for some to pursue execution. It would not be my preference, but..." He frowned, then chuckled somewhat ruefully. "This is why I have officers, or so they like to tell me." He stood, helping each of them to their pedes. "The Autobots welcome you, Jazz and Prowl. Someone will be by to show you to your quarters."

"Good orn, Prime," Prowl canted his wings and bowed more formally. It wasn't quite the kneeling oath of fidelity that his spark was calling for, but it would do for now.

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

They combed over every micron of their assigned quarters-little more than a room with a double berth with minimal padding, with hastily erected sheet metal separating their room from the next, a luxury for mated mecha alone-looking for surveillance equipment, found everything that was to be expected, pretended that it wasn't there, and curled up together on the berth.

Hardlines were out and ports spiraled open before either needed to ask, no question about how this conversation would be conducted.

~What happened that made you so tense?~ Jazz asked.

Instead of words, or even emotions, Prowl offered the already-packaged memory to his mate and waited for him to unpackage and view it.

~...Primus,~ Jazz whispered, in some awe and much more shock, and beneath all of that was a deep churn of distaste. ~Felt like ... Primus, d'ya think?~

~What else could it have been?~ Prowl's fear began to build once more. ~He's real, Jazz. How can he be real?~

~Calm,~ Jazz commanded, taking Prowl's face in his hands and bringing their helms together. It was gratifying at how smoothly and quickly Prowl accepted the order and calmed down to his core coding. ~This planet-our sparks-they came from something but that doesn't mean whatever that something is, controls our lives or even has any power over them, or us.~

~If he's real, the Well...~ Prowl couldn't finish the thought, not even in his own processors. Though he could no longer trace when it began, the prospect of existing for eternity horrified him too deeply to contemplate. The idea that he might exist for eternity was even worse.

Jazz shuddered, going along the same train of thought. ~If there is a being that would allow him into the Well, it isn't a being I would want anything to do with,~ he said. ~The Well does not negate the possibility of the Pit.~

~...True,~ Prowl followed that thought. In his upbringing, the Pit hadn't really been a subject. His kind did not need to be frightened into obedience, they thrived on service and pleasing their employer-master. ~If the Pit exists...~ he had to stop and try to find out just what sent a spark to the Pit instead of the Well. It wasn't something he'd never thought about, not really. Not in personal terms at any rate.

~...Then, so does the Well, and so does Radiance,~ Jazz said, gripping Prowl through the grief-shivers that still sometimes came with the thought of that designation. ~If any of it is real, he's waiting for us.~ He sighed, frame relaxing slowly. ~Still no way to tell if the Prime isn't just wearing a transmitter in his spark to a powerless entity and we don't just vanish.~

~It doesn't really hurt to believe though, does it?~ Prowl asked, feeling very much like a youngling seeking guidance. ~Either we can have Radiance back, or we won't know anyway...~

~Spend my life believing in a power that let this happen to our world through the rule of a Prime supposedly linked to his essence?~ Jazz asked with a sharp hiss to his voice before he visibly forced himself to calm with a shudder. ~I want to set our home to rights, I want to love you, and then I just ... I just want this all to end. With Radiance if he's waiting, without if he isn't. No more than that.~

Prowl shivered, torn until he finally grasped something about himself and offered the understanding to his mate. Belief, faith, wasn't a choice. It simply was. That was what made it faith.

Jazz nodded, arms wrapped tightly around his mate. ~I getcha, Prowler, I do ... just ... it doesn't make sense to me that he could be powerful enough to affect our lives, or why would this have happened? Sure I know there's no way to tell, but I also know that unless he, I don't know, manifests and frags it into me, I'm never going to believe otherwise.~

~I wish Prime hadn't,~ Prowl shivered, curling into his mate's presence mentally and physically for the support he needed as what he had experienced fully integrated into his processors and the changes began to settle. ~I liked it better when I was just going to dissipate.~

~No way ta tell you still won't,~ Jazz said cheerfully, freely offering all his strength for his mate to use. ~Like you said, either Radiance is waiting and we will be with him, or he isn't and we won't know anyway.~ He pressed a soft kiss to Prowl's helm. ~Oh, but what I wouldn't give to get to feel his spark,~ he sighed. ~I hope it is real.~

Without thinking about it, Prowl brought up memories of the merges he'd had and offered them. It was a poor substitute, the processor memories of a spark event, but it was all he could offer the mech he would do anything for to make happy. Jazz accepted with a deep kiss, aligning them with his own memories of those moments and what he'd been able to feel before tucking them back away. ~I love you,~ came the whisper as every part of him cried, I miss him.

~Yes,~ Prowl agreed to both. ~Love you, will always love and miss him.~

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

Jazz and Prowl watched in silence as the Chief Medical Officer, one of the officers who hadn't been present for their panel the previous orn-Ratchet-stomped his way around the med bay, preparing for the full examinations they'd received orders for. They'd arrived precisely at the time written on their forms only to be greeted by a wide-opticked medic who had been prepped for a routine engine tune-up, when their orders called for full examinations, any necessary repairs, and baseline readings of every function, mechanical, biomechanical, spark, and programming.

So now they were waiting very quietly as Ratchet stormed around, muttering darkly to himself about small black SpecOps commanders who thought quite a lot of themselves and thought they could get away with messing with his perfectly balanced, precise, planned, orderly ornly schedule by slipping in two full examinations at the start of his day.

It was an impressive sight.

"You!" Ratchet snapped, turning and pointing directly at Prowl, then to the table. "There."

Without a sound Prowl moved and sat on the table, watching for instructions as much as listening to them. This was not a mech he cared to upset any more than he currently did by existing, even if he seriously doubted the temper was any more dangerous than a verbal assault.

Ratchet scowled at him, seeming almost torn whether to be grateful or irritated by the prompt responsiveness, then huffed. "Lay down, please," he said, and his voice was suddenly significantly smoother than it had been during his ranting. Even his field teeked smoother. As Prowl obeyed, he began flipping on the equipment he'd set up, plugged into the medical port, and his optics unfocused for a moment as he scanned over the initial readings going through his HUD after Prowl granted access.

"This will take a while," Ratchet said after a few kliks. "You have an ... impressive amount of systems." He tapped Prowl's chest. "Open."

The flare of tension was expected, but Prowl got his chest plates to open before Ratchet expected, exposing the bulk of his internals and his pale blue spark. The first thing that registered for the medic was there were processor and memory cores inside the main chassis and he immediately leaned in, looking closer, a flicker of intrigue going through his field.

"Do you mind if my colleague observes?" he finally asked, after taking a very long look and scans of several systems. "He's much more familiar with nontraditional systems than I am. You are perfectly within your rights declining if that would make you uncomfortable, however."

"He may observe," Prowl decided. To Ratchet, it was quickly, to both Jazz and Prowl, the choice was dragged out and reviewed repeatedly. "I do not anticipate being any less comfortable with an additional mecha here."

Ratchet hummed. "Thank you. He's more likely as not to work on you if I'm ever away, so it's best you know each other. Your systems are far more complicated than I was anticipating." There was a calm of several kliks as he continued his initial scans and began making notes in a file before the door opened and the colleague strode in, not noticing Jazz where he was leaning against the wall as he headed straight for the table.

"Wheeljack?" Prowl stared at the mech.

Helm fins flashed brightly in a warm blue of pleasure. "You know me?" He looked harder at the Praxian. "You do look kinda familiar." He peered into the open chest, and after a moment, everything about him just lit up as he looked back at Prowl. "These systems...!"

"My designation is Prowl, he is Jazz. You worked on us in Kaon and again in Crystal City," Prowl explained. "Though we didn't look Praxian at the time."

The fins flashed a startled pale red. "You're the pair that got my best invention!"

"Hey Wheeljack," Jazz said, grinning and lifting a hand in greeting when Wheeljack turned, finally noticing him.

"Jazz!" Wheeljack said, spreading his arms open in greeting. "Scrawny little noble! Wow you both look great! Wow you're both alive!"

"Largely thanks to your invention," Prowl chuckled.

"'Best invention?'" Ratchet repeated, snapping a finger to get Wheeljack's attention again.

"Oh yes," Wheeljack turned to his friend, sort-of-mentor and frequent boss. "I wasn't that long into my apprenticeship with Mucit when we worked on them. I called it sorcelling. They can take on any frame they have the specs for. Well, and the mass. They couldn't pull off a big triple or a microbot, but anything within the range of their mass. Even flight frames. How well has it worked?"

"Very well," Prowl said calmly.

Helm fins lit up indicating an oncoming barrage of questions but Ratchet cleared his vocalizer out, giving Wheeljack a look. The inventor shrugged sheepishly, fins glowing a light yellow. "Sorry, Ratch. This was one of my best and I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to recreate it." He cocked his head and tapped his helm. "Y'know."

"...Ah," Ratchet said, and his field softened.

"You can't recreate it?" Jazz asked.

"Well ... no. But maybe I can now, if I can study you!"

"Study?" Prowl repeated warily, every line of his frame warning of what he associated the term with.

"Just look through the mechanics," Wheeljack assured him. "I lost some of the detail specs."

"What about Mucit?" Jazz asked, and Ratchet shook his head an instant too late to stop the question.

The fins turned almost gray and Wheeljack shook his head.

"...Oh," Jazz said.

"Nasty bit of work called Shockwave," Ratchet growled.

"Autobots got me out just in time," Wheeljack explained. "But not quite intact."

"After we've settled?" Prowl requested, permission implicit in his phrasing.

"Sure," Wheeljack was quick to reassure him. "It's no rush. It'd be good tech to have, but it's not like anybody has plans based on having it."

"Speaking of rush," Ratchet said. "I'm going to be backed up for orns with the time it's going to scan and process your complicated toy."

"Toys," Jazz reminded him with a grin and Ratchet groaned.

"Right," the medic said, shaking his head, gesturing Wheeljack over and handing him a scanner. "Get started."

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

Nearly three joors later Ratchet was inventing new curses, directed at Prowl, Wheeljack, Whiplash, Prime, nobles, Primus and the universe in general. Plugged into the Praxian for a processor scan, he had to employ every one of his medical protocols to keep Prowl's automatic defenses from taking him as a threat and responding with a level of excessive violence that could only have been learned from Vortex. It was even more frustrating with the fact that he could clearly perceive the layers in this processor and the conscious ones, the ones he could reprimand and argue with, were as willing and open as they could manage. It was the lower strata, the ones designed to protect the tactical processor, that were giving him grief.

Prowl didn't have the most powerful processor after frame management requirements that Ratchet had ever encountered. That belonged to the Prime and his multi-tiered social networking hub. But where the Prime's processor power was dedicated to managing people and interpreting the extra data from the Matrix, Prowl's light-matrix sextus processor was dedicated to number crunching. It made the Praxian far more alien to navigate than most Cybertronians. What really made a mess of him was the physical damage that couldn't be repaired and the hacks that Ratchet simply didn't dare try to undo, no matter how much his medical protocols screamed about them being more harmful than helpful.

Ratchet understood what his protocols couldn't. Those hacks were the only thing holding a completely and irrevocably fragged emotional cortex in check. It was ugly, and it crippled the mech without question, but it was the only thing keeping him functional against the damage.

~Will you let me work on those hacks, program them better?~ Ratchet asked carefully. ~I can see you need them, but I can see they weren't written by a medic.~

~I wrote them in the moment,~ Prowl replied, weary from holding so much of himself in check for the exam. ~Yes, I would welcome improvements. I take it you can't repair the damage that made me write them in the first place?~

~A few things, but Mucit was good and he did top grade work on you. I'll fix what I can, but the bottom line is that some of that damage is permanent.~

~As I expected,~ Prowl relaxed as his threat-assessment protocols did. ~They'll calm down once I trust you. It won't always be this difficult.~

~Good,~ Ratchet huffed, but his field was understanding. He glanced at his chronometer and groaned. ~Already irrecoverably behind and I still have one more of you to go. Is your mate as fragged as you are?~

~The sorcelling tech is similar but otherwise, mechanically and software, he is much simpler and less damaged. He is also far more ... excitable.~ Prowl warned cautiously.

~Excitable, huh?~ Ratchet said with a soft chuckle. ~If he's anything like some of the others we've dragged up from all over Cybertron shouldn't be too bad.~

Ratchet finished with his scans and documentation of Prowl's working software while Wheeljack completed the frame specs, coaxed Prowl into giving him a spark reading, and then finally allowed the Praxian to sit up and escape his table. He gestured for the other bored-looking mech in the room to come lie down and Jazz came almost gratefully, nuzzling Prowl on the way by.

"That only took forever," he complained as he lay down.

"It wouldn't if your mate wasn't so complex," Ratchet huffed. "So do you have anything special he doesn't?"

Behind him, where he couldn't see, Wheeljack winced a little, almost guiltily.

Jazz glanced between them, then back at the intimidating medic. "Er," he said, then grinned brightly and flicked his visor in a wink. "Everything about me is special, Doc."

This time Wheeljack did wince, but his helm fins also flashed in good humor.

Ratchet just growled. "So you're one of those, are you? We'll work on that defect. Let's get started. Open up," he tapped Jazz's chest.

Jazz made a point of settling himself onto the berth as comfortably as he could until he could feel the medic's field about ready to burst from impatience before stilling and opening his chest. His field stayed light and calm, but Prowl knew the tension signs in his mate that showed when nothing else did, and they were all there.

"So how has it been working?" Wheeljack asked Jazz cheerfully while Ratchet sputtered and stared at the mech's open chest.

"Oh it's great, keeps everything out whether I want it or not," Jazz answered with the same tone, lifting his arms up to cross his hands behind his helm, watching Ratchet recover himself.

"Is this highly illegal piece of hardware your doing too?" he finally demanded, looking at Wheeljack.

"Ah-no, well, yes, but no," Wheeljack said, fins a light yellow again. "Mucit grew that one. I only helped install it."

"What, exactly, are you doing with one of these in your chest?" Ratchet growled.

"Y'obviously know what it is," Jazz said. "It's keepin' my bonded out."

Ratchet looked at Prowl.

"I'm only his legal bonded," Prowl said quietly, his doorwings not well-controlled enough to hide how much he despised the truth of it. "His physical bonded has been hunting us since we escaped."

"But-" Ratchet said, still staring at the black crystal. "I wasn't at your panel, how did-" He broke off suddenly, and then his scowl was something fearsome to behold. "Prime didn't merge with you."

"Nope," Jazz said cheerfully.

"Optimus slagging Prime," Ratchet growled, shaking his head, turning to a console and pulling something up. "Who is your physical bonded?"

Jazz stared at him. "Why?"

Ratchet turned and looked back. "Because it isn't in your records and there are only a thousand and a half reasons why your primary medical officer would need to know who you are spark bonded to, not to mention the security risks that I'm guessing Optimus danced right past. What if that's damaged somehow or they show up in our ranks? Primus," he shook his head, exasperated. "Bonded's designation."

"It's-" Jazz said, then froze, field going flat and dull as his visor flickered.

Prowl moved, ignoring the warning growl of the medic as he put his hands on Jazz's shoulders after plugging in to help steady his mate.

"Vortex," Wheeljack supplied, his voice low and uneasy.

"That-that sadist Decepticon financier?" Ratchet exploded. "And Optimus is okay with this?"

"I have the blocker," Jazz argued, gripping Prowl tightly as his visor steadied and his field began to warm again. "The Prime already passed his judgment for us."

Ratchet snorted. "If there is one thing to be said about Optimus, it is that he has a tendency to be a little what I like to call soft-sparked. I cannot even begin to list the possible complications..." He shook his head, just staring at them, then sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "Was that a glitch, just now? That freeze?"

"Why?" Jazz asked, tense and defensive.

"Shu, love," Prowl cooed. "He's a good medic."

"Because as your primary medical officer, I need to know about any glitches. Mild ones can sometimes be repaired," Ratchet explained, keeping his frustration in check and inventing new curses once more for whatever treatment had made these two so defensive and glitched.

Jazz sighed. "Yes. I freeze up when I try to say it."

Ratchet tsked. "I'll take a look. Getting a reading of your spark frequency is going to have to be more invasive, too, unless you'd like that thing taken off." He took one look at their faces. "Didn't think so. Right, let's get started then." He took a careful step forward, watching Prowl as he did, clearly telegraphing his movements. When Prowl didn't move, he stopped. "This will be easier if I'm not triggering Praxian defensive protocols."

Prowl huffed and looked at his mate. "Are you okay with me over there?" he flicked a doorwing to where he'd been sitting before.

Jazz nuzzled him. "'Course I am. Just keep your aft where I can see it, I'm gonna need somethin' ta look at besides his face," he added in an exaggeratedly loud whisper, tossing his head towards Ratchet.

"Maybe not my aft, much as you'd enjoy the show to distract you," Prowl chuckled lightly, leaned down to claim a quick kiss and unplugged to return to his seat. It was far enough away for the medic's comfort, but close enough that he could see Jazz and Jazz could see him.

"How long have you two been together?" Ratchet asked, almost not wanting to know the answer. The file said they'd been bonded for over eighteen hundred vorns. More than long enough the overly-mushy phase should have been long over with.

"Arguably?" Jazz said, settling in and allowing the medical access when it pinged. "Since my last vorn as a mechling. More realistically, since my second vorn as an adult."

"And I'm going to guess the he was the time in between," Ratchet huffed as he began a careful cataloging of Jazz's processor, making note of all the places to poke into later, but for now simply getting the high-strung and very aggressive mech used to his presence.

"Yes," Prowl answered from where he was watching. "All the damage came from our vorn-long stay."

"All that ... in a vorn?" Ratchet shot a look at the Praxian.

"Most of it was in the first few orns, really," Prowl shrugged his doorwings. "The rest of the time just ground it in, or set it up to happen as soon as we got out. Both our glitches probably came about in the decaorn after our escape, but are a direct result of what happened with him. I know mine was. Be careful when you poke around in his second creation coding. Bits of it are left, and there's a construct that used to be around."

"Used to be..." Ratchet sighed. "Which one of you removed it?"

"I did," Prowl met his gaze. "It was threatening my charge, my love."

"Right." Ratchet stared at him, decidedly uneasy. "So you," he looked at Jazz. "Have parts of noble second creation coding left, and you," he shifted to Prowl. "Have parts of seneschal coding left."

"Mhmm," Jazz hummed. "He has more of it left than I do. The construct was pretty well linked in." He shuddered faintly at the memory of the way it had felt, half-wrecked and broken code creeping through his processor.

"Were you in stasis, at least?" Ratchet asked.

Jazz hummed a negative. "Wasn't time. It was going to kill us, and just me if it couldn't get Prowl."

Ratchet shook his head. "'Jack, would you start on his frame while I look into this?"

"Sure thing," Wheeljack said cheerfully, more than happy to get his hands back in his tech.

Very carefully, Ratchet began examining what remained of some of the oldest code in Jazz's processor. It was difficult to keep his horror at the way it had been shredded from leaking through, but he was a medic, a full doctor, and it came with the coding. ~Just how developed was the construct when he destroyed it?~

~There were two stages,~ Jazz said. ~The first time it was able to take full motor control when it realized I was taking it from its Bonded. A fully developed, independent profile. The second time it didn't have the same amount of strength, but its awareness was largely the same after it had some time to piece itself back together.~

~That second round it looks like Prowl had the time to do a thorough job,~ Ratchet admitted with grudging respect. ~Is that level of programming knowledge normal for a seneschal?~

~Much of that's just Prowler,~ Jazz said fondly. ~They have to know basic programming for emergency medical assistance, and how to control, design, and maintain the House systems. But he is never content to be an amateur at anything, he has to be an expert. And he has the processor capacity to study dozens of subjects at once if he's relaxing.~

~Which, I'm guessing, if he's not running an estate, he is,~ Ratchet nudged for information, but also to put more context into what he already knew would be one of his more difficult cases. ~He really does have an amazing processor.~

~Mm. 'S the only reason we're still alive,~ Jazz said. He had long ago ceased to be awed by the size and strength of his mate's systems, with as much time as he spent fully immersed in them whenever they hardlined, a direct connection without even the deepest firewalls, but that didn't make him any less aware of how incredible they were. Or any less willing to brag about them. ~One thing to know-he gets anxious when he doesn't have anything constructive to be doing. Literally can't stand being completely idle. Pit, mech probably makes plans while he's recharging.~

~So if I need to keep him here, it's best to give him something to read,~ Ratchet chuckled. ~Has he shown any inclination towards the creative arts? Writing stories or plays, music, painting, that kind of thing.~

The question had an odd, subduing effect on Jazz. ~No,~ he said. ~Nothing like that. He enjoys puzzles, and games, there's one he has running almost constantly, it was a-~ He stopped, cut that line of thought, and switched tracks. ~You're going to find some foreign programming in me, Praxian triad programming.~

~From someone who didn't make it?~ Ratchet asked gently. ~Your third.~

~Our third,~ Jazz sighed, gazing at Prowl. ~He fell with Praxus. I never had any problems with the coding, I'd like that to stay the way it is.~

~It's integrated smoothly. I don't see any reason to try and remove it,~ Ratchet assured him easily. ~I don't try to fix what isn't broken, and that definitely isn't broken. If you keep this frame, it'll help you socialize with the Praxians you meet too. Now, on to actual issues, will you try to say that designation so I can trace the glitch and see about repairing it.~

Jazz nodded and turned to look up at the ceiling. Ratchet could see him accessing a memory of the designation, hearing it, being fully aware of how it sounded and what the glyph was, but when the designation was loaded up into a speech queue, the same freeze happened again. Visor flickered, processor functions locked up, the field went dull.

He worked quickly to trace it back to a fragment of coding he had already marked for removal, part of the construct that had no actual power or intellect. When Jazz came back to himself, Ratchet nudged him to be sure he was all there. ~All right, I've traced it and I believe it originated when you were trying to prevent the construct from calling out, and destroying it at the same time. The order not to say the designation was locked in and still affecting you. Beyond that, the designation is linked into coding that has been removed, which is causing another glitch at the same time. It's a fairly simply fix if you'll let me edit your coding.~ He paused and glanced at Prowl. ~Since this time you'll be offline, your mate may watch me work if he promises not to interfere.~

~I would like ta see you stop him,~ Jazz said with a faint chuckle. ~Yeah all right. I'm not gonna start just sayin' it, but I can see where it would be useful to have the capability.~

Ratchet snorted. ~Damn right.~