"Prowl?"

The tactician glanced up to see Spectrum poking his helm around his office door. "Can I help you?"

The iridescently silver mech smiled somewhat shyly and entered the room fully, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite Prowl. "I was just wondering if you were busy?"

"Of course I am busy. I have reports to file, and battle plans to devise, and lectures to compose-"

"I know," Spectrum hurriedly interrupted, "You're a busy mech, of course. I was simply wondering if you wanted to come and grab some energon with me?"

That caught him off-guard. "What?"

A light blue blush coloured Spectrum's silver cheeks. "If you want to. I mean.. Just one cube..?"

"Oh." Prowl struggled to think quickly, but his battle computer didn't seem to know what to do. "Ahh... I think it would be best if I stayed to do my work."

"Oh. Oh, sure. I understand completely. It's just... You hardly ever get out anymore. You're always in your office or your quarters. It can't be healthy to be alone so much."

It is a good thing I am not alone, Prowl mused silently. "I appreciate your concern, Spectrum."

The saboteur nodded and smiled shyly, blue optics twinkling. "Even if you don't want to tonight, maybe some other time?"

"Perhaps." Prowl allowed, bowing his head.

His acquiescence seemed to give Spectrum a burst of confidence; the Special Ops mech planted a kiss on Prowl's cheek, before standing and practically running out of the room, giggling.

Prowl sat there and stared after him in shock. Had he just.. kissed him?! Only Jazz did that! Prowl couldn't help but find himself feeling annoyed - only Jazz was permitted to do something like that to him, and only because the Decepticon refused to listen to him. Plus, the kiss had felt different - his cheek didn't feel tingly where the kiss had been planted, like Jazz's lips usually made him feel. "Jazz is going to kill him." He murmured, returning to his report with an amused smile.

...

It was an hour and a half later when Prowl returned to his quarters, tired and stressed. As he typed in the keycode, he couldn't help but feel relief build up inside him at the thought of seeing Jazz.

The door slid open, revealing the Decepticon carelessly sprawled across the berth. Upon hearing the door, he sat up and focused his red visored gaze on Prowl. A grin split across his face and he jumped to his feet. "Prowler! 'Bout time you're back, Ah was goin' outta mah mind!"

Prowl smiled tiredly as the smaller mech bounced over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "My apologies. You can come with me next time, if you like- what's wrong?"

The saboteur had pulled back, his lips twisted downwards in a frown. "Ya smell wrong."

"I.. What?"

"Did.." Jazz took a step forwards and sniffed at Prowl, whilst the tactician watched him bewilderedly. "Were yo' wit' someone else?"

"What? Of course not."

"Ya have someone else's smell on your cheek." Suspiciously, Jazz stepped back.

"Jazz-"

The silver mech stepped out of reach as Prowl tried stretch out his arms towards him. "Who was it?"

"You are being ridiculous. I will tell you what happened-"

"Then tell meh!"

"I am trying!"

With a scowl, Jazz folded his arms. "Then go ahead."

"Spectrum came into my office-"

"SPECTRUM?!" Jazz exploded. "YA FRAGGED SPECTRUM?!"

"No! Do you even hear yourself-"

"HOW IS HE BETTER THAN ME? AH'VE BEEN TRYIN' T' GET YA T' FRAG MEH FOR MONTHS, BUT SPECTRUM COMES AND YA DO IT INSTANTLY?!"

Prowl reached out and grabbed the angry Decepticon, carefully avoiding getting scratched by sharp claws. "Jazz! Listen to me! You are being completely irrational! I did not interface with Spectrum!"

Like flicking on a light switch, Jazz relaxed and stopped trying to claw at the Praxian. "Good. Continue wit' the story then."

Once, Prowl would have crashed from the suddenness of the mood swing, but Jazz and his strange ways had become almost familiar to him. So he continued. "He came into my office and asked me if I wanted to get some energon with him-"

"But Ah got energon f'r us." Jazz pointed behind him, at two cubes sitting on the table.

"Oh. Thank you, that was very kind of you. Anyway, I said no."

Annoyed, Jazz snarled. "He had no right t' ask ya out. Yer mine." He clutched at the Praxian's larger frame possessively.

Resisting the urge to roll his optics (barely), Prowl nodded and patted the unstable mech's back. "Yes, of course. He asked me if I would consider getting energon another night, and I said perhaps-"

"Perhaps?" Jazz drew back, glaring up at Prowl.

"Naturally, I have no intention of doing so." The tactician said smoothly. "Even so, he seemed very happy and kissed me on the cheek."

A low growl rumbled out of Jazz's chassis as he glared at the offending cheek. "Ah'm gonna tear him t' pieces."

"I think you are overreacting." Prowl said, although he couldn't help but feel pleased that Jazz was so protective, even though he could take care of himself.

With a snarl, the Decepticon pulled the larger mech over to the berth, before pushing him down. Ignoring the raised optic ridge, Jazz crawled on top of Prowl and straddled his hips. "Ah don't want his smell on ya."

"I am certain that you are the only one able to smell him on me, considering we were barely in contact-" his sentence was cut short as Jazz crushed his mouth to his, locking him in a passionate kiss.

Prowl didn't even protest as Jazz began grinding against him; he couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to the mech who had become his closest companion - 'enemy' or not. "Mm.."

"Prowler.." Jazz murmured into the kiss, his fingers leisurely stroking down his body as he groaned. The tactician watched, enraptured, as Jazz stroked and rubbed his own armour, easily finding his own sensitive spots. "Want ya, Prowler."

The Praxian could only gasp into Jazz's mouth as he silver mech began to grind their panels together. "This is.. Jazz.. This is hardly- ah!" He yelped at Jazz abruptly groped his crotch.

A giggle erupted from the Decepticon. "Wha' was that?"

Surprisingly, Prowl growled and pulled Jazz down closer to him before kissing him passionately in return. With a moan, Jazz melted against the larger mech. Not even the knock that came on the door could distract them from each other.

But the second, third, fourth and fifth knock caused Prowl to frown and draw away from the saboteur, who whined. "Who is it?"

"Prowl? It's Bluestreak."

"One moment." The tactician called, moving to get up.

"Whoa, whoa, no way! C'mon, we were about t' finally frag! Please Prowler!" Jazz whined, pawing pleadingly at the black and white mech as he stood up.

"Jazz, please be mature. Bluestreak is like my own creation." He pleaded, glancing back to the visored mech as he reached the door. Pouting, Jazz folded his arms and scowled childishly. "Can you please turn your Autobot signal disruptor on, please?"

There was silence, and for a long moment it looked as though Jazz wasn't going to comply. "Fine." He mumbled at last, the dark ruby of his visor lightening to blue.

"Get off the berth." Prowl added as an afterthought, before opening the door to Bluestreak.

The young sniper beamed as he stepped in, although his smile faltered in confusion when he caught sight of the mech laying sprawled out on his mentors berth. "Oh. Hi Rumble."

Given Jazz's laugh and cheery wave, his annoyance had been forgotten. "How're ya doin', Blue?"

"Good, thank you! I mean, my arm is kinda sore 'cause I had to get it fixed, and my head is a bit sore 'cause Ratchet hit me with a wrench, but other then that I'm-"

"Why did you need to get your arm fixed?" Prowl frowned. If one was unfamiliar with the mech's facial expressions, it would have looked neutrally interested - but for Jazz, who had been watching the Praxian intently for the past couple of months, the concern shining in those bright blue optics was clear as the crystal they were made from.

"Oh.. Um.. Me and Cliffjumper-"

"Cliffjumper and I." The correction was a reflex, and Prowl winced when he realised it had slipped out.

"Right, right. Cliffjumper and I were sparring, and-"

"Cliffjumper hurt you?"

From the berth, Jazz laughed and shook his head. "Let 'im finish, Prowler."

Bluestreak smiled uncertainly at the mech. "Right. Well, I was sparring with Cliff and as we were like.. punching each other, Cliff somehow managed to challenge me - I don't really know how - to see how long I could stick my arm into the Dinobots nest for. Um.. Snarl woke up and I think my arm scared him a little and he-"

"Why would you do something so illogical and... stupid?" demanded Prowl, ignoring Jazz's maniacal grin.

Bluestreak, however, seemed more than slightly unnerved by Jazz's insane expression. "Um.. Are you okay-?"

Before Jazz even got a chance to open his mouth, Prowl answered. "Far from it."

"Aw Prowler, ya love mah insanity." The Decepticon-in-disguise teased, grin never faltering.

"It gives me processor aches."

"The good kind?"

"What kind of processor ache is a good kind?"

"The kind Ah give ya. Obviously."

Their entire exchange was watched quietly by Bluestreak, who seemed curiously amused. "So... Are you two-"

"No!" Momentarily allowing his frustration to get the better of him, Prowl covered his face with his hands. "For Primus' sake, we are not interfacing!"

"Almost." Jazz whispered conspiratorially to the gunner. "In fact, we were very close t' doin' the dirty tango b'fore ya knocked."

A sound almost like a hiss of anger escaped Prowl as Bluestreak's optics widened in surprise. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were busy! You could have told me, I wouldn't have-"

"We were not about to-!"

"Y'know, now that I think about it, I heard noises from in here when I was outside the door! I should have known what they were, it just didn't occur to me because.. it was your room."

::Jazz! I told you to behave!::

::No, ya told meh t' be mature. Ah was havin' a mature conversation with Blue::

"You are like a sparkling!" Prowl growled furiously.

Suddenly, Bluestreak looked distraught. "Oh, no! I didn't mean to make you fight! Please don't be mad at Rumble!"

"Hey, thanks f'r stickin' up f'r meh, Blue."

"That's alright, Rumble."

Rubbing his face again, Prowl groaned into his hands. "Damnit, Ja- Rumble, can you not just be well behaved? Just one time I ask you?"

"Ah prefer t' be naughty."

That managed to extract another groan from Prowl. It also caused Bluestreak to smile; he hadn't ever seen anyone manage to wring such reactions from his mentor ever. The tactician shook his helm tiredly. "Would you ever just-"

"Ah'd rather not in front o' li'l Blue here."

"Ja- stop it!"

"You know, I'd better go..." Bluestreak couldn't help his grin as he edged towards the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye, Rumble."

"See ya, Blue." Jazz sang cheerfully as the little Praxian left the room.

The moment the door closed behind Bluestreak's wings, Prowl whirled around angrily. "What was that?!" He demanded, optics flashing furiously.

"Wha'? Ah was talkin' t' Blue-"

"I told you to be mature! Bluestreak is like my own creation - I have no wish for him to see me in a different light-"

"Prowler, c'mon. Calm down." Jazz pushed himself off the berth and sashayed over to the tactician. "Don' be mad, cutie pie."

"Do not call me that when I am mad at you!"

Pouting, Jazz reached up and ran his talented servos over the black and white's doorwings. "Aw, Prowler. Ya look so hot when you're angry."

"Jazz-" Prowl began angrily, but Jazz locked their mouths together in another kiss, almost swallowing the others glossa. "Mmf!"

Jazz scowled when he was pushed away. "Prowler!"

"Jazz, I am angry at you!" With a huff through his vents, Prowl rubbed his chevron tiredly. "Next time I ask you to behave, do it!"

With a whine, Jazz dropped his head against Prowl's shoulder. "Ah will, promise! Don' be mad, baby. Please?"

After a moment, Prowl crumbled. "Fine." He didn't know how Jazz could crawl under his plating with such ease, but the saboteur was the only one able to do so.

Jazz brightened up immediately. "Good! Berth?" He grabbed the larger mech's hand and attempted to tug him towards the berth.

"Wait." Prowl commanded, pulling the Decepticon back to him. "I need your word that that you will be on your best behaviour around Bluestreak from this moment on. He is barely old enough to know what interface means, never mind talk about it."

"He 'faced those twins, di'nt he?"

Prowl's dangerous growl made it clear that this was not a topic he wanted to discuss. "That was the Twins' fault; Bluestreak would not do such an irresponsible thing. Anyway, I still wish for your word."

"Fine, fine. Ah promise. Berth?"

"Nothing will happen tonight."

"Alright." Jazz sighed dramatically, pulling the Praxian with him. "Tomorrow?"

"Do not push your luck."

"Wouldn't dream o' it, Prowler."

...

"Prowler-"

"Jazz, I have to-"

"No, ya don't!" Jazz exclaimed frustratedly. "Ya can stay here, where it's safe!"

"You must realise how ridiculous you sound. I am Head of the Tactical Division! I must go into battle in order to direct the troops into the most efficient-"

"Damn it Prowler, at least let meh go wit'ya! Ah'll fend off all the big mean and nasties!"

"Jazz, you are not coming and that is final."

There was a bang as Jazz slammed his fist angrily on top of the desk. "Prowl! Ah'm not gonna let ya dive into battle-"

"This will hardly be my first fight, Jazz. I HAVE been in a battle before!" Despite his best efforts, Prowl was beginning to lose his infamous patience.

With an angry growl, Jazz pushed himself away from the desk. They had been arguing for close to an hour, since Prowl had gotten word that it was likely the Autobots would be called for battle tomorrow outside of Simfur, where the Decepticons were allegedly preparing an ambush on the city. "Prowler baby, please listen t' me. It's dangerous, an'-"

"We are in the middle of a war, Jazz. Everything we do is dangerous. As Head Tactician, it is my responsibility to ensure the battle plan used is the least damaging to the Autobot ranks as possible-"

"Ah get that, seriously Ah do, but- look Prowler, if ya die, Ah don't know what Ah'd do. Ah think Ah'd go insane. Again. An' if Ah go insane again, Ah don't know how many people Ah could hurt."

"Jazz-"

"No really, Prowler. Ah'm bein' serious. Ah need ya here, with me."

"My responsibility to the Autobots-"

"Wha' about yo' responsibility t' meh?" Jazz's accent grew stronger as he got upset; he had been trained to keep the accent in times of severe stress, so it only got stronger when he was under strain. "Y'promised Prime you'd look afta meh."

"You are a grown mech. You do not need anyone to look after you."

"Prowl! Just-"

"No, that is enough." Spreading his hands across his desk, Prowl frowned across the room at the saboteur, who had begun to pace. "Jazz, I will lock you in the brig until I get back if I have to. If you come, you will only put yourself in harms way-"

A sarcastic snort exploded from Jazz's chassis, and his visor flared angrily. "Oh, now it's 'bout mah safety? Mech, are ya completely glitched?"

"No, only partially."

"Ugh!" Jazz whirled on his heel and paced the room. Suddenly, he stopped as though something had just occurred to him. "Ah'll leave."

"Pardon?"

"Ah'll leave an' go back t' Megatron if ya leave meh here."

Prowl sighed and pinched his olfactory sensor. "Not only is that an incredibly immature thing to say or do, but it also contradicts everything you have said to me since our argument began."

"We are not arguin'."

"I believe this qualifies as an argument."

"We ain't arguin'! We're havin' a grown up debate."

"I believe now we are arguing about whether or not we are arguing."

"Shut the frag up, Prowl."

With a sigh, the tactician pushed himself up off his seat and glided over to Jazz. When he put his hands on a silver shoulder, however, it was shrugged off immediately and the smaller mech turned his back on him and glared at the wall. "Jazz, look at me." When he received no response, he decided to take a new course of action. Mimicking Jazz, he bent his head and pressed a kiss to the saboteurs shoulder.

That got a reaction. "Th' frag're ya doin'? Ah'm mad at ya." Jazz hissed, moving to pull out off Prowl's grip.

"I do not wish you to be." Prowl replied, kissing Jazz's shoulder again, before pressing another soft kiss to the Decepticon's neck cables. "I apologise for upsetting you."

Slowly, Jazz leaned backwards so his back was pressed agains Prowl's chassis. The black and white mech rumbled his chassis in an apologetic sort of way, and Jazz had to force himself not to smile. "Ya could make meh happier if ya didn't go."

"You know I have to."

"Yeah.. Ah know."

They both fell into a comfortable silence. Prowl began rocking back and forth, creating a soothing rhythm that had Jazz almost in recharge in his arms. Neither said anything for a long time; they were perfectly content to be silent in each others presence. After a while, Jazz turned his head to the side and nuzzled Prowl's cheek. "Time f'r berth?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Good." Jazz stretched, following Prowl out of his office and down the corridor. "Ah'm tired."

"As am I." The tactician murmured as Jazz took his hand. As they reached Prowl's quarters, Jazz realised he had forgotten to change the colour of his visor; thankfully, they had not encountered anyone in the hallways. The door slid open and Prowl tugged his companion into the room. "Go to berth."

"Prowler." Jazz whined. "Ain't ya comin'?"

"Yes, in just a moment." He assured, gently nudging Jazz towards the berth before turning to his datapads and beginning to organise them alphabetically.

Jazz watched him in mild disbelief from the berth. "Again? Mech, you already organised them in order I' importance this mornin'."

"I realise that."

"Prowler, come here now." Jazz commanded forcefully.

After a moment of hesitation, Prowl sighed and obeyed; the silver Decepticon almost pulled his arm out of his socket when he tugged Prowl down onto the berth. "Jazz, be careful-"

"Ah can't recharge 'less you're here." The Decepticon murmured, curling up into Prowl. "Now shush. Ah need mah beauty rest."

With an amused snort, Prowl rearranged his doorwings and offlined his optics. "Good night."

"Nighty night, cutie pie." Jazz kissed the larger mech's chestplates, before activating his recharge protocols.

The next morning, Prowl made sure Jazz was still firmly in recharge before pulling a pair of stasis cuffs from his subspace. In absolute silence borne from years of experience, the tactician cuffed the Decepticon to the berth.

The Autobots left for battle in twenty minutes, and Prowl was not going to be late. The last thing he thought before leaving the room was 'Primus, Jazz is going to kill me when I get back'

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