~blah~ is comm-speak ; blah is Cybertronian

A/N: meant to say last week: Pinpoint's an OC. He's got a fairly minor part, he's not going to take over the story. Sorry for the confusion.

Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, places, etc. belong to HasTak and other copyright holders. I make no profit from this.

Chapter 9: Beware a bored Bee

The news was mixed, Prowl mused as First Aid continued responding to questions.

It seemed that for Wheeljack's recovery, at least, there was no need to delve into the encrypted files: everything First Aid needed was already accessible to him through his current login, and he would be ready to bring the inventor online again in another hour. Prime counselled him to wait a bit longer so that they could have more of a plan in place to handle Ratchet first. First Aid, remarkably, had not known that Ratchet and Wheeljack were lovers, and grew quite flustered as he realised that this would complicate matters.

Prowl flicked his gaze to his own lover who was now asking a question about Sideswipe. Jazz had regained his equilibrium, as expected. Nothing knocked the saboteur for long; at least, not visibly, but then that was no indication of his emotional state beneath the surface. He would have to do something about arranging some shared off duty time so that they could talk this out before Jazz had too long to stew over it, he mused, and immediately determined the best course of action: having his current work shift end three breems before Jazz's next one was due to start would probably suffice without causing any suspicion. There were advantages to working on separate shifts.

Getting back to the matter at hand, it seemed that there was still a serious problem with Ratchet. First Aid had explained what he had had to do in order to stop the damage worsening as the gestalt battle had continued to send shockwaves through the base, and he was very clear that his efforts may have complicated matters. The medic wanted to do some research before taking any further action, though he couldn't be sure if it would help: he was not at all certain he would find a similar case to analyse.

Of course, it may already have been too late from the moment the accident occurred, as Prime pointed out compassionately. First Aid conceded that point easily enough, but was not willing to give up hope until he was absolutely sure there was nothing more he could do. A good attitude.

"Alright, that's enough for now." Prime nodded when it became clear that First Aid was starting to repeat himself. "I can see you've recharged, but I think you should also take some time out of the repair bay to clear your head. Is there someone who is rested who can watch over Ratchet and Wheeljack in your absence?"

"Percy's free." Jazz suggested casually, toying with a data crystal.

Prowl looked across at him in surprise. Jazz usually left any such assignments to him to make. Why would he step in now, and why choose Perceptor in particular? Interestingly, First Aid looked startled at the suggestion, then... guilty?

"Uh, yes, I think he's rested, but maybe it'd be better if Hoist or even Sideswipe..."

"I got the feelin' 'Ceptor don't feel he did enough t'help." Jazz said blandly, making Prowl even more suspicious. "I'm sure he'll be keen to help out. I'll go let him know. All done for now, Prime?"

"Just get that schedule reorganised before midday." Prime nodded, also watching him suspiciously.

"Will do."

He left and Prime looked to Prowl.

"What's this about Perceptor?"

"I'll find out. Was there anything else, sir?"

"No, but Jazz will want your assistance with rearranging the work roster. His team is going to be doing some more active base work for the next few orns. And I'd appreciate it if you'd escort First Aid back to his brothers."

Prowl nodded, already intending to change the rosters at the earliest opportunity, and led the way out. Once the door was closed, though, First Aid put a staying hand on his arm.

"Uh, Prowl, sir? Perceptor's not in trouble is he? I mean, I'm the one who sent him out."

"Sent him out?" Prowl echoed.

"Yes. He wasn't handling the sight of the damage very well and I didn't have time to look after him as well so I sent him away."

Prowl glanced up the hallway, then looked back at the medic.

"Perceptor is an officer and expected to act like one at all times. If he was acting inappropriately then he will be handled accordingly. But you don't need to worry about that. You are the Chief Medical Officer at the moment, and you can throw anyone you please out of that bay. Now come, we will find your brothers."

"Oh, I can find them. You don't need to come, I'm sure you're busy."

"You can find them, but others will find you first. Best that you are not alone, otherwise you could be swarmed by mechs wanting the latest info on your patients. Isn't that so, Bumblebee?"

The yellow mech stepped out of the alcove he had been concealed in, smiling widely.

"We all really just want to know what's going on."

"And you will all find out in due course. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Jazz - he commed to say to meet him in his office."

"Then go into his office and wait there; he will undoubtedly return shortly."

Twenty minutes later Bumblebee left Jazz's office feeling disgruntled but trying hard not to show it.

Just what did Prime think his special ops team was for if not for gathering information and sneaking about? He had no idea what had started this, though he was sure that Jazz did, but all that really mattered was that they were now all confined to base until further notice. It did not matter that he was supposed to be picking up Spike and Carly tonight and taking them out to that concert that had been planned for weeks. Nor that on his way there he was supposed to be stopping off at his favourite spot for hacking into the internet and checking on messages from his own fast-growing spy network. Messages which had saved their afts more than once already. And it couldn't be done from the Ark because the access would be picked up by Teletran.

He stopped, clenching his fists and forcing more air to cycle through his systems for a moment. Jazz knew how useful that network was, even if Prime did not know it existed. The fact that the officer had not pushed harder against this unfair ruling suggested that now was not the time to be difficult. If Jazz wanted to, he could arrange it so that whatever tasks he wanted completed would still be done. In fact, he may well be doing that anyway. There may well be a more important task than his ones, so he was needed to play decoy. Either way, he may well never learn the truth.

Sighing, he unclenched his fists and schooled his expression to disappointment with just the right degree of cuteness, then trudged dejectedly along towards the command centre. Most of the mechs in the Ark thought he was in Jazz's team simply to even the numbers up a little. Very few had any idea that he was a trained infiltrator, spy and explosives expert. Outside of those few, he doubted many would believe it even if he told them the truth.

"Hey, Bumblebee, what's the matter?" Cliffjumper asked, taking in his slow steps.

"I gotta call Spike. Turns out I can't go to the concert after all."

"Why not?" Blaster asked.

"Jazz's put me on patrol duty. Prime wants everyone to stay close to base until we know if Ratchet's okay."

They commiserated with him and he traded comments for awhile both before and after the call, but when he left Blaster chased after him.

"Spike sounded really disappointed, huh?"

"He was. I am too - I was looking forward to it."

"Strange that Jazz wouldn't just let you do that." Blaster frowned. "It's not like it'd be dangerous."

Bumblebee sighed.

"Nah, but Prime'd be on his aft, and..."

"Does Jazz seem okay to you, Bee?"

An odd question.

"Jazz? Sure. Why?"

Blaster shook his head a little, then leaned close suddenly.

"Look, you hear a lot of the gossip around here before anyone else. Did he have a bad break up with someone?"

Stranger and stranger.

"Not that I've heard."

"Maybe it's Prowl, then." Blaster muttered. "That's what he said it was, but then he says things and they're not always... Well, anyway, can't stay, got tracks to play."

He watched the taller mech head back to the command centre, bemused. Blaster thought there was something wrong with Jazz, and it was Prowl's fault? Well now, there was something to keep him occupied during this restriction. It would be something Jazz had planned for the other mech to think, he was sure - Jazz was a consummate actor - but even just unravelling whatever he was trying to convince Blaster of would be enough to be interesting, and if he could determine what was under that then that was an even bigger bonus. He would just have to start watching Jazz and Prowl more closely.

First Aid stared at the water rushing past, lost in thought over the complications of intimate relationships. It was something of a foreign concept.

On Telbi Pralnor, where they had spent most of their lives since activation it had just been the five of them and their creator; arriving at Iacon and being put with the Ark team, each of them had had a few trysts outside their team and experienced the peculiarly unfamiliar sensations of sharing with someone you were not linked to. It was not unpleasant but nor was it as addictive as others claimed. They enjoyed a bit of fun with each other, but none of them were bonded to each other, and none of them were particularly devoted. Not in that way. They were inseparable as a team, but they generally recharged alone and only shared as a game or for stress release, not because they had any particular passion for each other. Which brought him back to the reason he was out here brooding.

What would it be like to love another mech so much that you would consider sharing with anyone else to be wrong and the loss of your partner to be unbearable? With all the mechs around, why choose to limit yourself to just one? What did exclusivity get you that promiscuity would not? Well, other than bonding, but that was just ridiculous. No-one got bonded anymore, not with the war on - it was not only ridiculous, but also illegal. All the bonded pairs had died out megavorns ago, and besides it was forbidden. Anyone found to be bonded was immediately exiled, it had been that way for centuries. He wasn't quite sure why; maybe just because one death would cost two.

"Aid? You okay?"

He looked up as Blades settled down beside him, somewhat pleased to have a distraction from his looping thoughts.

"Just thinking."

"About work? I thought you said Prime said for you to take a break."

First Aid sighed.

"Actually, it wasn't quite that. Blades, did you know Ratchet and Wheeljack are sparkmates? Long-term?"

Blades shrugged.

"Nope. I never see much of either of them."

"Why do you s'pose mechs do that?"

"Do what?"

"Stay with one lover. It seems so... restrictive. And it only causes problems. I need Wheeljack's help with Ratchet, but Prime's told me he mightn't be much help because they've been lovers so long and he won't be focused. It's a problem. It's always a problem. And if you're not bonded, then..."

"Bonded! Who's bonded?"

"No-one, that's the point. If you're bonded, you can't share with anyone else. There's some physical restriction, or something. I don't really know the details, there isn't much point studying it since no-one does it anymore. But why would anyone act like they were bonded when they're not really? There's nothing to stop either of them sharing with someone else if they like, so what's the big deal?"

Blades looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged again.

"No idea, Aid. Maybe it's one of those old programming things. For mechs who were built before the war, when it was okay to bond."

"But why would you even do it then?" First Aid railed, frustrated. "It doesn't make sense. What do you get out of it? And it's permanent, so you'd better choose the right mech. And when your partner dies, then oops: you do too. It doesn't make any sense!"

He stopped, then huffed.

"I'm so glad I wasn't a medic when there were bonded pairs. If you lose one patient, you lose two. But this is bad enough. Ratchet's professional enough to get the job done regardless of who he's treating, so why can't Wheeljack be? If he doesn't help, or doesn't think about what he's doing, he could make things worse. How does that help his lover? The whole thing's crazy."

Blades considered, then stretched.

"You could try asking Jazz." he offered finally. "He's been around since the start of the war and seen plenty, and he's very easy to talk to."

"You've been talking to him about pairings?"

Blades grinned.

"Kind of."

First Aid knew that Hot Spot was uncomfortable with them spending too much time outside of their group, and especially when that time was spent with Prime's officers. His own training with Ratchet had caused them to spend joors apart, and their team leader fretted that Prime would start to assign the others to separate teams too. Jazz and Prowl in particular were to be avoided, since they were the two most likely to suggest to Prime that such a thing might happen. Blades' tone, though, suggested something different from swapping stories over energon.

"You shared with him? When?"

"A few weeks ago."

"But... you must've heard what Bumblebee said about him...?"

Blades shrugged.

"I don't have a problem with it. And he's fun. He understands about the gestalt link, and he said straight up that he knew it wouldn't feel as intense because he wasn't linked to me, but he said it could feel good anyway if it was done right. And it did."

"How'd he know that? He's never been linked. Has he?"

"Don't think so. He was made before there even were gestalts. I guess he's just shared with enough others to know. He started to tell me some story about one time before the war when he'd actually interfaced with a seeker trine - all three at once! - but then we got interrupted. If anyone'll know why mechs do what they do, it'll be him."

First Aid nodded thoughtfully. He would talk to Jazz when he got a chance. Right now, though, he had wasted enough time: he had work to do.

"Hey Mirage, you got a free breem or so?"

Mirage looked at his visitor sourly. He was one of a very small group of mechs who knew that Bumblebee's bubbly personality was just a mask that the younger mech had cultivated from an early age and never dropped unless certain his cover would not be blown. Given their long-term habitation plans on this planet and the loss of privacy in their current accommodations it must be a tiresome future to contemplate, and so he usually tolerated the falseness with reasonable good will. But this question was just a little too inane for his dark mood today.

"You know I do, thanks to Jazz."

"Ah yes. Jazz." Bumblebee nodded wisely. "Interesting thing I heard today about our illustrious leader. Want in on a side op? At worst it'll be a diversion. At best, we may actually come out of it with some blackmail material on the Jazz-mech himself."

Mirage cocked his head, interested but cautious. He had tried for something on Jazz several times before and it had always fallen through.

"You realise he's probably playing you?"

"Maybe, maybe not. If he is, he's being a bit clumsy about it. Tell me what you think. You hear that yesterday he was seen herding Blaster into his quarters for a quick sharing?"

Mirage nodded impatiently, knowing that there would have to be more to get Bumblebee interested. After all, Jazz frequently had trysts with mechs all over the ship.

"And?"

"Well here's the thing. With a bit of poking about, I found out Blaster actually overloaded him."

Mirage dismissed the idea as unlikely and returned to cleaning his pistol.

"Sounds like he wanted him to think that."

"With anyone else I'd be inclined to agree." Bumblebee nodded, sinking down on a nearby crate. "Thing is, he's done this with Blaster dozens of times, and Blaster's never had any complaints, but this time he was caught by surprise because it was 'so intense' - his own words to Smokescreen. And what's weirder is that he says they'd barely even gotten started, and Jazz looked upset about it, like it wasn't supposed to happen. Now that could still be acting, I know, but then Prime called him and he had to take off, and Blaster says he was still crackling when he left. And Groove and Swoop and Beachcomber all say they saw the same thing. And Beachcomber also says that Jazz greeted him as Windcharger, which is something I confirmed with the security tapes."

Mirage subspaced his pistol, his interest caught now. Red Alert trusted very few of the mechs on board, but his faith in Bumblebee was the special ops team's favourite in-joke. Whenever they needed something checked or recorded or erased from the tapes, Bumblebee was the easiest option and Red never suspected him at all. He even had a regular slot watching the live monitors. That aside, though, he was right: this was getting unusual. If Jazz was putting on an act here, it was rather an elaborate one. Overloading with Blaster in such a way that the other mech might start to wonder about all those other times. And then being caught still reeling from that as he escaped? Very sloppy. Or dangerously subtle. Playing with real overcharges meant trusting that you would not be in a position to spill something you did not mean to.

"Now," Bumblebee continued, enjoying his recitation, "the tapes show Jazz going into his room after his shift, and then emerging again just under a breem later. That basically fits what he told Blaster about being caught out finding Prowl there in recharge. They probably exchanged notes on the changed duty roster or something, but then Jazz got out and went looking for a diversion. Problem is, Prime interrupted and sent him back looking for Prowl to get some work done, so he didn't get much of a break. But here's where it gets interesting. See, Blaster thinks that Jazz was already charged up before they got together and that's why it was so quick. And it was quick - the tapes show they were together less than a third of a breem. So either it was planned, or he was on the edge anyway. But looking back at the tapes of his shift, there's no sign of it. In fact, when he swaps with Ironhide he comments that he's got a new CD from Spike to listen to, which suggests he was just going back to his room to listen to music like he often does. Finding Prowl there must've put a crimp in his plans, but it should've just sent him off to the rec room or some other space to listen to his music, not running for the first mech he can jump."

"You think he's pining for Prowl?" Mirage asked sceptically. "But then why even leave the room?"

"Maybe Prowl turned him down."

"Then why go back, still arcing with overcharge? Are we sure Prime really called?"

"Yes. Ironhide confirmed that for me. Seems Prowl called him to let him know he was on med-leave. Prime couldn't call him back because he'd turned off his comm, so he tried Jazz."

"But if Prowl was on med-leave, why did Jazz go racing back to Prowl? And why did he tell Blaster he had to do work with Prowl when Prowl was ordered to rest and Jazz knew it?"

Bumblebee grinned.

"Exactly. Doesn't make sense, does it? And here's the really good bit. You know Prowl and Jazz were the first to find Wheeljack and Ratchet, right? Well they only went looking after Smokescreen went to tell them First Aid was wondering where Ratchet was. He found them both still in their quarters, and that was a good two hours after Jazz got back."

Mirage sat up straight.

"In the same berth?"

Bumblebee shook his head.

"I couldn't ask too much without getting him suspicious, but sounds like it looked innocent. He said something about Prowl working, so he was probably at his desk. Smokey definitely didn't make any connections, so they can't've been interrupted. You know how sensitive he is to that kind of thing; I think it's some kind of special gambler's sense."

Mirage sank back against the side of the crate.

"Then that just suggests he did what they said."

"Yes, but he still lied, and obviously too. And then remember what happened when the alert came."

"Jazz hugged him and called him..." Mirage trailed off thoughtfully.

"Sparkles. Funny sorta nickname, even for Jazz, right? I thought he was just ribbing him like he usually does, even if the word was a bit out of place, but Prowl never commented on it so maybe it was something different. And getting back to Blaster's experience, if it hadn't been for Wheeljack's explosion, everyone'd know by now that Prowl was on med-leave. So then Blaster'd be wondering why Prime'd told Jazz to head back to make him work. And Ratchet'd be throwing fits at both of them for ignoring his orders. So where's the advantage to Jazz in setting that up?"

Mirage looked at the younger spy and nodded slowly.

"Very well, you've convinced me there's something here. Where do you want to start?"