I thought I was going to hit 100 reviews with the last chapter- I was so close! I could taste it, you know? XD Darn, if life doesn't work out the way you want it to, eh? XD Maybe I'll hit 200 hundred with the next four chapters? That would be a dream come true, wouldn't it? Just gotta keep hoping and laying my heart at the mercies of kind readers. =P If that happens, I'll do something kindly for everyone... write a J/P one-shot, perhaps? Something with some spice to it, methinks. =P
I want to kindly thank the time and effort and kindness contributed by thoughtful and insightful reviewers of the last chapter. I was, and still am, deeply honoured and flattered that you took the time to write your thoughts out and submit them for this story. I'm not afraid to admit that it is reviewer response that drives my stories. You're all the running river to my water wheel of writing. =D (Could I get any cornier? XD ) So, um, yes.. thank you kindly to Peacewish, Elita One, Faecat, Alangrieal, PrancingTiger86, Optimus Bob, Marinelife37, Phoebe Turner, Narmoture, flamingmarsh, Bluebird Soaring, Shizuka Taiyou, renegadewriter8, Lecidre, Refracted Imagination, Mirage Shinkiro, Chloo, FunkyFish1991, Queen of the Red Skittles, Sebastian Nyte, and lilyoftheval5!
Read, Review, & Enjoy! =D
Chapter 5
Jazz leaned back in his seat, tucking his hands behind his head and comfortably slinging his feet up on the table. "How long we gonna do this, Prowl? You an' Ah both know neither one of us are gonna break. Why keep bringin' meh here?"
Prowl glanced around the barren walls of the interrogation room and even he had to admit its interior got tiresome after so many orns. With a calculated shrug, he replied, "Hope that perhaps some orn you would see the error of your ways and repent?"
Whether or not it was a joke, Jazz laughed. "Good one."
The tactician smirked. "It was, wasn't it?"
His tone was almost humoured, which caused Jazz to pause, staring with almost a look of surprise on his faceplate. And then he let it slide, chuckling. "If Ah didn't know any better, Ah'd say ya were admittin' ta a joke."
"If I was?" A single optic ridge quirked up.
Jazz shook his head, still chuckling. "Always full of surprises, Prowler."
"If I gave all my secrets away at once, they would no longer be surprises," countered Prowl, who continued to wear his barely-there smirk. "What fun would our games be if that were to happen?"
"True, playin' with ya wouldn't be as interestin'." Jazz's visor flashed for a fraction of an astrosecond, a sign Prowl had quickly learned announced the engagement of the mech's attention. Their games together, played on a mental field of parries and thrusts through words, always managed to catch his full attention. His feet slid from the table, leaning forward to prop his elbows on the ledge. "Ya wouldn't be… fun no more."
"We can't have that, now can we?" Prowl's optic ridges rose subtly. Of all the things he'd been called in his lifetime, 'interesting' and 'fun' had never been in the repertoire. It seemed that only with Jazz was it possible.
"No, not at all." Even hidden by his visor, Jazz's optics glowed richly. Even if his aft was magnetically bound to his seat, his movements limited, in a room that no more held his attention than drying paint did, being with Prowl was an endeavour that drew all of his consideration. Even when they were simply trading mental blows in place of a real intellectual sparring match, the experience was stimulating. "Ah am your responsibility now, after all. Keepin' meh entertained should be at the top of your list of things ta do."
Prowl almost, almost, laughed. "I have such a very busy schedule as it is- reports to see to, chastisements to give. A few things will have to be moved around, but I will see what I can do."
Jazz flashed a sharp grin. "You do that."
"So I will." The tactician inclined his head and very calmly enquired, "And what will you do for me in return?" As if it would be that easy.
The saboteur shrugged. "What would ya like meh ta do?"
"Feel remorse for the hundreds of bots you've killed?"
"Still with the jokes. Ah got a better idea," Jazz smirked. "Give meh access ta that mind of yours, and Ah can take ya on a ride you'll never forget." He caressed his own panel provocatively; a mocking seduction he knew would never be acted on, which was a pity. The things he could do to such an uptight mech... Make him scream. Make him beg. The possibilities were endless.
A small frown passed Prowl's mouthplates. "I'll pass."
"Your loss."
"I can live with that." He lifted one shoulder. "Besides, all you'd want to do is break me. Where is the fun in that?"
"Sometimes it's fun ta be broken when it's consensual." Jazz leaned in, grinning.
Prowl mirrored Jazz's stance, though his faceplate lacked the saboteur's particular brand of playfulness. "If that is how you like it, perhaps you will allow me to break you? You might enjoy it."
"If it was you doin' the breakin', Ah know Ah'd enjoy it."
"Are you sure you can handle me?" There was a barely veiled tone of amusement in Prowl's voice, his optics not so cold.
Jazz grinned. "Ah know Ah can take ya."
Their gazes locked. The air sizzled between them in pure challenge, each determined to break the other. Jazz very much enjoyed this new Prowl he found himself sharing most of the orns with. There was an unpredictability to him that was thrilling. Neither dared say anything of the discovery Jazz had made that night in the med bay, but they both knew what lurked and lingered in Prowl's optics. It was as if the existence of Prowl's emotions were a secret that only the two of them knew. A secret they never spoke of. They let it hang and tease and taunt while they exchanged quips the same way duellers exchanged testing blows before going in for the kill.
In a surprise move, Jazz raised his visor so that their locked stares were now unimpeded. "How long are we gonna keep doin' this, Prowler?"
Knowing he referred to their game as a whole rather than their minor staring contest, Prowl replied, "As long as it takes."
"Then we'll be doin' this forever. That ain't somethin' Ah wanna be trapped in, an' you gotta know it ain't logical." He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah told ya, Ah'm not cut out ta be an Autobot."
"You already surprised me once by saving my life and coming here. Surprise me again."
A small frown appeared on Jazz's faceplate. "Mah surprises ain't normally good ones. Things like what Ah did won't happen again."
"And yet, from you, it is best to expect the unexpected. Good would be very unexpected from you."
"So would getting out of this chair and ripping out your spark."
"You wouldn't do it," Prowl rebuffed with a small shake of his head.
Jazz tipped his chin defiantly. "Care to tempt fate?"
Calling his bluff, Prowl remotely accessed the magnetic restraints that kept Jazz's aft sealed to his chair. Without ceremony, they were released. With the Deception free, the tactician leaned back in his chair and spread his arms, leaving the way free for a killing strike. Suspiciously, Jazz's gaze darted to the reflective wall where another Autobot could be lurking, watching. His reflection stared back at him. He knew intrinsically that no one was behind the glass.
A feral sense of freedom struck him. He needed to do something wild, needed to make his energon sing again; after so long of playing nice with the Autobots, he needed to feel alive again.
Without warning, Jazz shot up and around the table, his claws sliding up between slates of armour along Prowl's front. Claws hooked there, pulling with enough force for Prowl to feel the vulnerability right into his internals. With a magnetic pulse, he could rip the amour off. Crush the spark. It was such a powerful, wild, thrilling urge. Before he was even conscious of it, he saw the plans form of how he would get away with it- kill Prowl, strip his mind, escape, and bring it all back to the Decepticons. Sell the information byte by byte. It was a very good plan, if he did say so himself.
For some Primus-damned reason, he didn't follow through. Instead, he met Prowl's gaze, curious to find triumph gleaming in those very sharp optics.
"Shouldn't ya be scared?" He loomed close, arching over Prowl, shadows darkening his faceplate.
"This is not the first time you've held my life in your hands." Prowl's hands eased around Jazz's wrists, not taking them away, only holding them.
"That don't answer mah question."
Prowl remained silent, still cuffing Jazz's wrists with his long, dextrous fingers.
Nearly sitting in the mech's lap, Jazz leaned closer. "Ah wasn't bluffin', ya know- Ah would've killed ya in a sparkbeat. What would that have proved?"
"Nothing." He looked down to the hands he held, like reins on a runaway train. "The fact that we are still having this conversation proves something very important."
Suddenly very wary, Jazz scowled, glared. "What?"
"You had the chance to take my life- the life of an enemy- only to spare it. That is the mark of an Autobot."
Disgusted that he had played right into the Autobot's trap, Jazz wrenched his hands away. The immediate repulsion that hit him for failing yet again in going head-to-head with his nemesis left a bitter taste in his mouthplates. Glaring, Jazz snapped, "We're done for the orn."
Prowl quirked an optic ridge, amused. "Are we?"
"Just get out of here. Ah'll return myself to mah own cell." He paced to the door, waiting for Prowl to release the lock and let him loose. The tactician only sat and stared, smirking at him, of all things. Frustrated, Jazz opened a panel on his leg and took out two long, stiff wires of copper, inserting them into the cracks of the door at points of his choosing. Pinching each between his fingers, he sent the highest magnetic pulse he could though them. The locking mechanisms on the door sputtered from the shock, and then flung open.
"Don't call on meh again today," he ordered darkly, gliding away.
Once gone, the door shut again, Prowl let out shudder that had taken a lot to contain. "Damn."
His calculations had been off; the bluff had been a risk he should not have taken. It had been incredibly short-sighted of him to believe that Jazz's interest in him would insure his life was safe with the Decepticon indefinitely. The saboteur was not one who could be predicted so easily, as Sideswipe had wisely pointed out, and he would do well to remember that better in the future- lest he lose his life so easily again. The game of give and take they played was not one that he could afford to lose.
However, Prowl did gain one insight from the risk. Up until this point, there had always been a readiness to kill radiating from the Decepticon. It meant truly nothing to destroy the life of everyone and anyone in his path. But now…
This was the first time Prowl had ever seen reluctance to kill in Jazz's gaze.