Title: TMI
Rating: T (pretty much all innuendo)
'Verse: G1

A/N: belated birthday fic for Yoru Hana1 ^_^; Another moment of weirdness from my bunnies - I told people they'd gone rabid! (Either that or they've been smoking something illegal...)

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers, nor make any profit from this, I do it for fun :)


Alone at last the secret lovers wasted no time, desperate for contact. The kiss was passionate, expressing all the emotions they were each feeling: the fear when deadlines had passed with no word, the anxiety of being forced to hide without daring to even charge properly, the lust so hard to restrain, the guilty pleasure at finally being together again.

Beneath that was the knowledge that they would have to break apart, that this office was not the appropriate place for this liaison. The mission was over, and they were together again, other things would have to wait for a more appropriate location and time.

Slowly, reluctantly, they relented, pulling away enough to stare at each other. Their relationship was still so very new, and they had nearly lost everything the very first time they had been separated for a mission. The same could be true of the next mission, or the one after that. This was why they had avoided the obvious for so long, had resisted the inevitable as long as they could.

They could not do so any longer. It was unbearable.

"Have you told him?" the shorter one asked.

The taller mech shook his head.

"I will now I know you're safe."

"We should have told him before..."

"You need not worry." a voice said from the doorway. "I already know."

They broke apart quickly as Prowl paced towards them with measured steps.

"I've been encouraging him for vorns to find a second berthmate for when I'm away." he continued conversationally. "I can't imagine why he has been so coy in telling me he had finally found someone."

"Prowler..." Jazz began awkwardly, but the rest of his words were muffled as Prowl kissed him soundly.

He tottered a little, dazed, as Prowl released him to repeat his action on Optimus, then cocked his head to the side.

"Honestly, Orion." he huffed, his exasperated tone belied by his amused expression. "Just how long did you intend to try to keep it secret? Getting Jazz re-painted in the same way you did with me when you first invited me to your berth made it quite difficult to miss."

"But you've always been black and white!" Jazz protested.

"Certainly since long before you first knew me." the response came promptly. "Which really should tell you everything you need to know about how long I've been involved with our Prime. So. Shall we move this to somewhere more appropriate?"

"You're truly not upset?" Prime asked, watching Prowl intently. "You and Jazz have been friends for a long time - I didn't want to damage that."

"This will no doubt add another dimension to our relationship." Prowl replied calmly. "At least I know and like Jazz, unlike Elita. Who I made no complaint about, you'll recall."

"But she was wrong for me, like you said." Optimus agreed. "So. My quarters?"

"What time?" Jazz asked eagerly.

"Now." Prowl said firmly. "None of us have any other commitments for several groons."

"I'll meet you there." Optimus nodded, walking out.

"Won't mechs be suspicious if they see us going in there after him?" Jazz asked.

Prowl's lips twitched in a faint smile as he regarded his long-time friend and soon-to-be new lover.

"What is at all suspicious about the Prime meeting with his senior officers? I meet with him in his quarters quite often, after all, and it has never occurred to you that it might be for more than my latest statistical report in spite of the fact that Optimus had told you of our relationship."

"Mech, you're a lot sneakier than I give ya credit for!" Jazz exclaimed.

Prowl smiled smugly.

"You'll discover that that's not my only talent. In the meantime I believe we're expected. Shall we?"

Jazz laughed.

"Please, lead the way!"

They left the room and all was still for a moment before there was a small movement from an item on the floor. It began to contort and twist and grow and finally was replaced by a large host mech of white and dark blue colouring.

Stretching, Soundwave reached into his subspace and pulled out a datapad to leave on Prime's desk, picking up a replacement. His regular reports were helping Optimus and Prowl to keep Megatron's little rebellion under control, aided by his telepathy but there were times when he wished he could switch off that gift. Bad enough to be around an established couple, but adding in Jazz now too? The imagery and emotions had been uncomfortably explicit.

And the Autobots had the gall to say the Seekers were bad? They didn't know the half of it.