"Ah need t' go outside." Jazz announced suddenly, sitting up sharply on the berth and staring over at Prowl.

The tactician glanced up from the datapad he had been reading on the couch and frowned. "Outside?"

"Yeah, outside. Ah'm gettin' all antsy bein' cooped up in here." With a whine, the saboteur slid off the berth and slunk over to the couch, before draping himself over the black and white mech.

"Jazz-" with a mildly disgruntled sigh, Prowl set down the datapad and raised an optic ridge at his new blanket. "I am not keeping you 'cooped up'. You are here because you wish to be."

"Ah know that, dummy. But Ah wanna go outside."

"That... would be unwise." came the hesitant reply. "Our Security Director is rather...ah...enthusiastic when it comes to his job."

"Prowler, Ah get that. Ah just don't care. Thing is, Ah don't like bein' confined. Ah.. Ah can't take it, Prowler. Ah need t' be outside. Just f'r a while." The Decepticon reached up and grabbed Prowl's face, pulling it closer to his. "C'mon, Prowler. Bring meh outside."

Jazz's visor had darkened, lending him an insane look that caused Prowl to lean back warily. "Calm yourself. Very well. We can go outside." He watched as Jazz bounced to his feet in a sparkbeat. "Only if you behave."

With a giggle and a sneaky grin, Jazz pulled the larger mech to his feet. "Aw, are ya worried Ah'll be naughty in public?"

Deliberately ignoring that comment, Prowl took the lead and marched towards the door. "Your signal disruptor?"

"Yup." The deep red of his visor lightened to a cerulean blue and the Decepticon signal was dampened, before a false Autobot signal was broadcasted over it. "Let's go."

...

Thankfully, no one was outside when the two mechs emerged from the Iaconian Base into the courtyard outside. The Autobot Base was surrounded by a high wall, protecting the entire infrastructure from attack. Within the walls, a small courtyard with little benches was located in the far corner of the Base.

"This is where Ah first introduced mahself." Jazz observed, looking around and taking a deep invent of air.

"More like tried to ravish me."

He couldn't help it; Jazz burst out laughing in pure delight. "Oh Prowler, don't say 'ravish'. You're temptin' meh." With a graceful bound, the saboteur jumped onto one of the benches and stretched himself out. "Unless you're willin'?"

"Not tonight."

"Wasn't expectin' ya to, anyway." A comfortable silence settled over the two of them as Prowl took a seat next to him. For a long time, they just enjoyed each others company and the feeling of being under the stars.

"I am making a logical observation in saying that your discomfort of being confined stems from your youth. Being confined underground is hardly an appropriate environment to be raised in." Prowl announced suddenly, looking to Jazz.

Silence met his statement. "Huh." The blue visor was fixed on a natural crystal formation growing on the wall. "Well, ain't that interestin'."

Prowl didn't reply.

With a sigh, the saboteur slumped and leaned against the larger mech. "Yeah, guess you're right. Ah don't particularly like stayin' in one place for too long. Makes meh feel like..like.." Jazz's face scrunched up; he was entirely unused to talking about his feelings. He finally found an appropriate word to describe it. "Trapped."

"Understandable." The Praxian nodded.

"What 'bout you?" Jazz bumped his companion's shoulder with his. "Ah think it's your turn t' tell meh 'bout your hist'ry."

"There is not much to know." Prowl answered calmly, tilting his head back to look at the stars. "I was sparked to a middle class family in Nothern Praxus. Both of my creators were Enforcers, and I was raised as one too. I joined the force when I was introduced into my first adult frame. My battle computer and logic centre allowed me to rise quickly through the ranks, and I was eventually head of my own department. When the war began, the Autobots reached out and requested I join their tactical division."

Jazz forced himself not to show surprise at the fact Prowl had been sparked rather than preprogrammed. He hadn't expected that. "That sounds..."

"Boring." Prowl supplied helpfully.

"Ah was gonna say nice, actually. Normal." Even saying that, Jazz had a feeling Prowl was leaving a lot out.

"Hm. I suppose it was." Prowl said thoughtfully, tilting his head to look up at the sky again. "Normal and mundane."

"So, 's that all you're gonna tell meh 'bout your life?" Jazz pressed, nudging his taller companion's waist.

"What else would you like to know about?"

"Hmm... Lovers?"

With a roll of his optics, Prowl shook his head. "I should have known you were going to ask that." When Jazz was silent, he continued. "Very few. I am not fond of allowing 'bots I do not know into my berth, as you should know by now."

"Heh, yeah. But ya know meh now." With a cheeky smile, he rested his head on Prowl's shoulderplates. The Praxian's only reply was a wry smile as Jazz kissed his black shoulder. "Ya know meh better than anyone's known meh ever, in fact."

After a brief beat of silence, the tactician glanced down at the cuddly Decepticon huddled into his side. "Really?"

"Mhmm. Ya should feel honoured."

"I do."

The absolute sincerity in those two words caused Jazz to raise his head suspiciously. "Really?"

"Yes, certainly. I am pleased you considered me to be trustworthy enough to-"

"No need to read too much into it." The saboteur muttered. "Seriously."

That gained a small, amused smile from the Praxian. "My apologies."

They both relapsed into another comfortable silence. After about ten minutes, Jazz spoke up again. "It's kinda ironic, ain't it? The fact that you used t' be an Enforcer, and Ah was a criminal."

"Hm." Still not removing his gaze from the stars, Prowl pursed his lip components. "I had given it some thought."

"Of course ya had." With a snort, Jazz kissed the Autobot's shoulder again.

"Why do you keep doing that?" The question wasn't demanding or angry; it was soft, confused and honestly curious.

"What, kissin' ya? Ah'm showin' affection." He kissed the shoulder again to emphasise his point.

Prowl had finally turned his gaze back on Jazz. With a shake of his head, he said "I am aware of what the gesture itself means, but I am confused as to why you are doing it so often."

"Maybe Ah just have a lot o' affection for ya."

Whatever Prowl was going to say was forgotten as Jazz closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together. It wasn't a demanding kiss, as would have been expected from the Decepticon; instead, it was soft and...affectionate. A soft sigh escaped Prowl's vents as the saboteur's skilled claws rubbed circles in the back of his tense neck cables.

All too soon, Jazz pulled back with a half-smile. "See? That was affection too."

With a valiant effort to force his cooling fans off, Prowl nodded. "I understand affection. I am simply not used to receiving it in that format."

There was a pause. Then a frown, although it was hidden behind the blue visor. "What kinda lovers have you had, Prowler? Tell me how many."

"Three."

"Three?" Jazz repeated in disbelief; Prowl was a good-looking mech. Far from good-looking - he was gorgeous! How were mechs not lining up to 'face him senseless? "And..and none of 'em kissed ya?"

"Not like that, no." was the calm reply. Prowl seemed to consider a moment before adding, "They would kiss me during interfacing, but not for no reason other than to show affection."

"Mech, even Ah know that that's weird. And Ah grew up underground in a pit full o' homicidal savages."

After he considered this in silence for a moment, Prowl frowned. "I was not aware it was unusual."

"We're gonna have t' change this, ya know." The saboteur leaned in and captured Prowl's lips with his again.

With a very small hum, the Praxian opened his mouth slightly. Rather than plunging his glossa into the other's mouth, Jazz gently licked at his partners lower lip component.

Blue optics widened in surprise at the action, which caused Jazz to laugh and pull back again. "What? What did Ah do ta confuse ya this time?"

"Did you.. lick me?"

"Oh Primus, tell meh Ah don't have t' explain this to ya as well."

Prowl's faceplates flushed darker with energon. "I understand the connotations. I simply was unprepared."

With a grin, Jazz climbed onto the larger's lap and straddled it. "Ah can prepare ya better, if ya want." He swooped in to claim another kiss, and the Praxian didn't even hesitate in reciprocating this time. Prowl couldn't even process the fact that kissing like this in public outside the Iaconian Base was most improper; all he could focus on was Jazz, and the wonderful sensations the Decepticon was causing him to feel.

Soon enough, they were wound tightly together; their arms were locked around each other in a tight embrace, Jazz's legs were wrapped around Prowl's waist, and their glossas were tangled together. It looked as though they would be impossible to pry apart.

Until someone behind them cleared their vocaliser.

The couple broke apart almost reluctantly as they turned to see who was standing in the entrance to the building. "Prime, sir!" Prowl almost jumped to his feet, but Jazz's weight was keeping him on the bench. The Decepticon had frozen, staring at the Autobot leader's huge frame. This had not been in the plan. Below him, Prowl was actually spluttering, "I- we were- I don't- it's not what it looks like, I-"

With an amused smile, Optimus Prime stepped forwards into the courtyard and cocked an optic ridge at them. "If it is not what it looks like, I would hate to find out what it is you are actually doing."

Without conscious thought, Jazz pressed closer to the Autobot he was sitting on. ::Frag it. Prowl, Ah gotta get outta here b'fore he looks at meh properly.::

Before Prowl could respond, the Prime turned to regard the saboteur with a tilted head. "Hello. I don't believe I recognise you." Clearly noticing Jazz's slim, streamlined frame type, he frowned slightly. "Special Operations? Are you one of Spectrum's mechs?"

With a wrinkle of his olfactory ridge, Jazz shook his head. He had decided to simply not speak; that way Prime wouldn't have any way to recognise his voice from previous battles and whatnot. Prowl decided to speak for him. "He.. Ah.. Transferred recently."

"Is that so?" Optimus seemed amused. "Well, welcome to Iacon. I must say, you must have had quite the effect on our tactician - I can guarantee you that he is not normally one for late night romantic rendezvous-"

"Prime!" Prowl yelped, glaring. "That is hardly appropriate!"

With a chuckle, Optimus nodded. "My apologies. I wished to talk with you, in fact."

Still dazed and embarrassed from being caught with Jazz, the tactician nodded and pushed the smaller silver mech off him. Jazz watched as he walked after his leader, before stretching out on the bench to wait for his return.

Optimus led Prowl out of hearing distance, into a corridor. After a glance around to make sure no one was around to hear, the Prime spoke. "How is your Decepticon friend acclimatising to the base?"

Prowl stiffened and his doorwings rose in shock as his processor stalled. "I- what?" His logic centre booted up again, and he blanched. "Sir, I can explain-"

With a shake of his head, Optimus frowned. "Prowl, I trust your judgement. I have faith that you know what you are doing. But if that Decepticon out there puts ANY Autobot in danger, I'm afraid it will be you held responsible. Is that understood? It was a remarkably foolish and dangerous thing to do."

"I- yes, sir. Of course."

"Good. Having that said," Optimus allowed himself a small smile. "It is good to see you happy."

"How did you.. when did you realise that-"

"That you were hiding a Decepticon in your quarters?" The Autobot commander raised an optic ridge. "Red Alert was worried about why you were in such a good mood recently. He seemed to think you had been brainwashed by Decepticons. Perhaps he was not too far from the truth." He ignored Prowl's indignant huff and continued, "I promised him I would find out why you were acting so happy."

"I was under the impression we were being careful." Prowl sighed. "You have my uttermost apologies, Prime. If you wish for me to resign from my position, I completely understand. What I have done is against approximately twenty seven protocols, not including subclauses, and-"

"Prowl." Optimus interrupted the tactician. "I would not ask such a thing. You are one of our best assets. It is clear that this Decepticon is having a positive affect on you, strange as that may seem. You are happier than I have seen you in a long time, and I would not compromise that over something as trivial as protocol." Prowl's frown at protocol being called 'trivial' went ignored. "As I have said, as long as his presence does not endanger anyone on base, he will be tolerated. But to avoid mass panic, I would avoid mentioning the fact that he is allied with the enemy faction."

"Yes.. Yes, of course." Prowl's logic centre was finally beginning to catch up, although it was still struggling not to crash. "I- thank you."

"You should get back to him." With an indulgent smile, Optimus bid him goodnight before turning and disappearing down the corridor.

Prowl stayed where he was for another moment as he forced his processor to compute what had just happened. When he felt ready, he turned and walked back out to Jazz.

The Decepticon was exactly where he had left him - lying comfortably across the bench. "Hey!" He sat up the moment he caught sight of the black and white mech. "What'd he say? Where's he gone?"

"I- he knew you were a Decepticon." Prowl sat down on the bench slowly, still confused.

Jazz jerked back in surprise. "But Ah had mah signal jammer on! He shouldn't'a been able ta tell!" A frown creased his forehelm, but was hidden behind his visor. "Why didn't he kill meh?"

Prowl whipped his head around in surprise. "Kill you? Why would he kill you? He is allowing you to stay with me so long as you do not endanger anyone."

"But Ah'm the enemy!" Frustrated, the saboteur stood up and punched a hole in one of the decorative crystal formations.

"Jazz, those are precious crystal statues, not punching bags. I must ask that you refrain from destroying any of them. I am rather fond of them." This statement was punctuated with a disapproving glance at the saboteur.

Jazz remained still for a moment, before sitting back down. "Sorry Prowler. Didn' know ya liked 'em." With another frown, he leaned against the larger mech. "Ah don't like it when Ah don't understand somethin'. And Ah don't understand why yo' Prime is lettin' meh stay."

"There are lots of things we do not understand; but they are evened out by all the things we do know. Prime believes you are good for me, and is allowing you to stay here. And now I no longer have to worry about the guilt of not telling my superiors about you."

With a sidelong glance at Prowl, Jazz shuffled closer. "Ya were worried? Ah didn't know."

"A bit. And it is fine. I worry about lots of things."

"Like?"

"Illogical things I cannot control. The war. Losing my allies. Going wrong in my calculations and causing the death of an Autobot."

"Prowler.." Jazz frowned. "It ain't your fault people die."

"Is that any reason to not worry about who might be next?" Prowl retorted, shuttering his optics tiredly.

Silence fell over the both of them, and Jazz leaned against his companion. "Thanks. F'r bringin' meh outside. Sorry it caused trouble with your boss."

"It is fine." Prowl murmured, glancing at the smaller mech. "Are you ready to return to my quarters?"

"Yeah." Jazz stretched, absently draping his upper body over Prowl's white thighs.

With a quirk of his optic ridges, Prowl smiled slightly at the mech in his lap. "You do not look ready."

"Ah, give meh a minute, cutie pie." Jazz kissed one of Prowl's thighs, before sitting up again and looping his arms around the black and white mech's neck. "Ah kinda like it out here."

"Yes, I am also fond of this place." Prowl observed, allowing Jazz to nuzzle him. "It is aesthetically pleasing and relaxing."

"Mhm." The Decepticon continued nuzzling at Prowl's neck. "It's great."

The tactician frowned as he checked his chronometer. "There are five minutes until the work shift is over. Perhaps we should return now."

"How 'bout we go t' the rec. room?" Jazz nudged him eagerly. "Now that Ah'm officially allowed t' be here, Ah can meet some o' your friends."

"You are not 'officially' allowed to be here. Optimus is being lenient and blatantly ignoring protocols."

"Yeah, yeah, c'mon Prowler! You ain't workin' t'night, so we can get overcharged!"

The look Prowl sent him could have sliced through glass. "I do not 'get overcharged'. It is an illogical and harmful thing to do to one's body and processors."

"Aw, lighten up Prowler! C'mon, mech, just a little overcharged? Enough t' relax ya."

"Jazz, I will not-!" Prowl cut himself off, before pushing himself roughly from the bench, dislodging Jazz. Vents heaving, Prowl rubbed his face and paced in a circle. "Please don't..."

Startled, Jazz watched the Autobot walk in circles. "Whoa, Prowler.. Ah didn't mean t' upset ya or nothin'... What's up?"

The tactician paused at the wall of the building, leaning his head on the cool metal. "I.. I apologise. My reaction was illogical."

With a frown, Jazz stood and loped over to Prowl. "Tell meh what's wrong. Ah don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I overreacted. I apologise, and it will not happen again."

Jazz snarled in frustration. "Prowl, tell meh what's wrong, or so help meh Ah'll-"

"My sire." Prowl mumbled into the wall, his voice so muffled that it was only thanks to Jazz's advanced audios that he could hear it.

"What 'bout him?" Jazz murmured, pulling the tactician away from the wall and taking hold of his chin. "Hey, Prowler... Ya can tell meh."

And the strangest thing was, Prowl already knew he could tell the saboteur. "My sire.. He.."

"Had a high-grade problem?" Jazz guessed cautiously.

After a brief silence, the taller mech nodded. "Yes."

"...Did he ever hurt ya?"

Blue optics dimmed. "Occasionally. I could bear it. My carrier could not."

The idea that Prowl was not a pre-programmed mech still confused Jazz slightly, but he ignored it. "He hurt your carrier? How..? It.. it would hurt him too, wouldn' it?"

"They were not bonded." Prowl answered, keeping his optics offlined.

Jazz's temporarily blue visor flickered in surprise. "They sparked without bondin'? That's..."

"Dangerous." Prowl supplied.

"Yeah." There was silence for another moment. "Ah'm sorry."

"I have had a lifetime to acclimatise." Prowl said shortly.

"How 'bout we just go back to our quarters?"

"My quarters." The correction was half-hearted and weak as Jazz took his hand and pulled him inside the building.

"That's what Ah meant." The Decepticon lied easily, casting a hidden glance at Prowl. He hadn't seen the stoic tactician react so emotionally about anything ever. He decided to tell him so. "That was quite the reaction. Ah mean, Ah should've expected it considerin' how long you've probably been bottlin' it all up... But it's the first time Ah've seen ya react so emotionally t' anything."

"I realise that." Prowl said stiffly as he was tugged down the corridors. Thankfully, they came across no one in the empty halls. "And once again, I apologise."

"Don't. Ah like it. Gives ya more.. character."

Prowl let out a small snort as they reached his quarters and Jazz keyed in the code. "I am glad you appreciate the extra character my suffering has lent me."

As the door opened and they both entered the room, Jazz shot him a smile. "O' course. Ah 'ppreciate all'a ya. You're great."

"I am flawed." Prowl sat heavily on his berth, frowning severely.

"Ev'ryone is." The silver mech climbed onto the berth beside him. "Particularly those that've suffered. Don' be so hard on yourself."

A hiss of air escaped Prowl's vents as he lay down, doorwings fanned out behind him. "I suppose you are right."

"'Course Ah am, Ah'm me." Jazz snuggled up to the Praxian, trying to hide how fascinated he was by the larger mech's doorwings. Naturally, his curiosity got the better of him; he dragged a sharp finger gently down the smooth, thin metal. "Yo' wings sensitive?"

The tatician's body had stiffened at the touch to his wings. "Very." He sounded strained.

With a cheeky grin, Jazz pressed a kiss to the sensor panels, before allowing his glossa to slip out and licking lightly at a groove in the metal. Prowl groaned and his fists clenched as sensation washed over him. He unconsciously pressed his wings back into Jazz's touch. The saboteur giggled. "Oh, now you're gettin' eager. Y'know, Ah'd love to frag ya right now, but Ah don't think Ah should. You had an emotional day an' such-"

Prowl was about to insist that he had not wanted to interface anyway, but he latched onto the last part of the sentence instead. "Just because I had an emotional response to something does not mean my entire day was emotional."

"Prowler. Ah appreciate your attempt t' convince meh t' frag ya, but not t'night. 'Kay?"

"I am not arguing, but why not?" Prowl frowned. He couldn't understand the Decepticon's logic; Jazz had continuously tried to wheedle Prowl into interfacing with him, and now suddenly... he didn't want to?"

Jazz seemed to read his mind. "It's not that Ah don't wanna, cutie pie. Trust meh, Ah do. But Ah'll wait 'till you're ready."

"That is.. unexpectedly considerate of you."

"Ah'm a gentlemech." Jazz curled up into Prowl's side.

"Cuddling hardly fits a Decepticon of your stature." The Autobot murmured wryly. "It lacks any sense of propriety."

"Propriety's f'r boring mechs." Jazz huffed. "An' we ain't boring mechs."

"No. No, I suppose we are not."