I'm back! My exams are officially over, thank the lord!

So anyway, this chapter contains sticky smut, so don't read if you're not into that. I'd love you to leave a review if you can, too :) thank you!

"Jazz, I demand you untie me now."

The saboteur shot him a sneaky grin from where he was lounging on the couch. "But ya look so good like tha'."

"I have been tied up like this for all of last night and the past five and a half hours." Prowl deadpanned, glaring furiously at the smaller mech.

With a giggle, Jazz sat up properly on the couch. "Prowler, maybe ya should keep the bedroom eyes f'r later."

"Untie me NOW."

The Decepticon left the couch and loped over to the berth, before crawling onto Prowl's abdomen and settling himself on black hips. "Y'know, Bee won't be back from his examination at Ratchet's fer another while... Wanna play?"

"Jazz!"

"Mm?" The sound was muffled as Jazz kissed the delicate black neck-cables.

Unable to stop himself, the tactician arched his neck into the kisses. "I still expect to be untied."

Jazz laughed, capturing Prowl's lips in a kiss. With one hand, he reached up and crushed the stasis cuffs; the tactician's newly freed hands dropped and settled on the bottom of Jazz's back, close to his shapely aft. With a giggle, Jazz nuzzled Prowl's nasal ridge. "Ooooh, gettin' frisky, are we?"

With a slight frown, Prowl pulled back. "I did not wish to impose upon-"

"Oh, shut up." Surprisingly careful claws grabbed the tactician's face and pulled him into another kiss. In turn, Prowl gripped Jazz's waist and pulled him closer, until they were both entangled together on the berth. "Want ya, Prowler. So bad." He murmured against Prowl's lips.

"Jazz..." Unable to come up with any kind of coherent protest whilst Jazz was grinding against him, Prowl simply returned the kiss passionately. With a promiscuous moan, Jazz ran his hands over his partner's chassis and dipped his hands into transformation seams, eliciting a small noise of pleasure from the usually stoic mech.

"C'mon.." With a murmur, the saboteur slid downwards, until his face was even with the red arrow over Prowl's crotch. It was like a beacon to him; he laved his glossa up the whole interface panel. The sight of the tactician bowing backwards at the sensation was one of the best things Jazz had ever seen, and he saved a photo-capture of it for later. "Gonna open fer meh?"

"We are going to do this quickly." Prowl snarled, grabbing the Decepticon by the shoulders and flipping their positions so that the smaller mech was underneath him. No complaint came from Jazz; he wrapped his legs around Prowl's waist and grinded against him again. "Before Bumblebee gets back."

"Prowler, it's gonna be our first time! There ain't no rush!" After saying that, Jazz sent a private comm. to the youngling. ::Hey li'l Bee. Ah'm super sorry, but yo' gonna have ta visit Blue after yo' visit t' Ratchet. Can ya do that?::

His internal comm. pinged with Bumblebee's reply mere astroseconds later, as he kissed Prowl's neck. ::Oh, okay. But.. C-can I come back after? Please?::

::O' course, Bee. Ah'll come collect ya later, 'kay?::

The moment Bumblebee replied in the affirmative, Jazz grinned and ran his hands down Prowl's chassis, stroking the delicate metal of his sparkchamber. "We got plenty'a time.."

"But-"

"Nah ah. Plenty'a time. Ah promise... C'mon baby.." Jazz mouthed the strong jawline he was beginning to adore. With a wide gesture, he stroked up the whole expanse of the majestic doorwings, causing the Praxian to tremble and his lips to part.

"Promise you will not kill me afterwards?" The tactician ground out between his teeth.

A husky laugh vibrated Jazz's chassis, "Ah couldn' do tha'. Then Ah'd be denied doin' this another time."

"Which way do you wish to do this?" It came out as a pant, which caused a brief flash of irritation through Prowl. He hated not feeling in control, but he was beginning to relax into the idea of giving control over to Jazz. Unstable or not, Jazz had never pulled away from him because of his emotional coldness.

"Ah want ya in mah valve." Excitement coloured his voice as the saboteur tilted his hips upwards. "Please?"

Prowl's grip was uncertain but firm as he took hold of Jazz's slender body and pulled him closer. He didn't have too much experience with interfacing, but Jazz looked eager and excited that Prowl was finally agreeing to do this with him, which was encouraging. The few times he had actually interfaced, he had been the one being spiked; he had never much enjoyed it, but he was willing to try it the other way around, for Jazz.

The saboteur murmured softly as Prowl began to grind back against his panel. "Need ya. Please."

A 'snick' sounded in the room as Prowl's panel retracted, but his spike remained in its housing. A playful pout graced Jazz's faceplates, and he flipped them over again. Now that he was on top, he slid down the larger mech's body until his face was level with Prowl's interface array once again. A reluctant moan escaped the tactician as Jazz ran his glossa around the spike housing, trying to ease the sensitive equipment out. After a few moments of licking and sucking around the housing, Prowl's spike extended.

Jazz grinned excitedly; Prowl was bigger than he had expected. He kissed the tip, before running his glossa down the length. The reactions he wrung from Prowl had Jazz's circuits running hot - particularly as the black and white mech bucked his hips up.

"Dammit." Prowl hissed as the entire length of his spike was engulfed in Jazz's mouth. "Jazz-"

The saboteur hummed in acknowledgement around the spike, causing Prowl to arch back and groan. A grin stretched Jazz's lips even further around Prowl's spike as he tasted a drop of transfluid. It was clear that he was minutes away from overload, so Jazz pulled back quickly, earning a disappointed groan. "Been a while, huh?" Jazz giggled.

"Yes." Prowl sighed as his roommate pulled himself up and hovered over his interface array. "It is that obvious?"

"It's cute." Jazz grinned, flicking back his own panel. His valve was already lubricated and clenching, desperate for something to fill it. He groaned and tossed his helm back as Prowl's spike nosed his entrance teasingly.

"Are you certain you wish to do this?"

A sarcastic snort burst out of Jazz. "Ah've been tryin' t' do this wit'ya f'r months."

Before Prowl could say another word, the Decepticon had slammed his hips down. Prowl gasped as his spike was enveloped in tight heat, and Jazz moaned as the nodes on the inside of his valve were stimulated in the best way. Uncertain as to what to do next, Prowl's hands wavered over Jazz's back, before resting tentatively on the silver mech's aft. "A-ah!"

The saboteur grinned, faceplates flushed. "Dammit, Prowler... Ah've been waitin' fer so long.." He moaned again and buried his face in Prowl's neck, before shifting his hips up and down. "Please.."

With trembling hands, Prowl flipped their position yet again. He couldn't help but smile as Jazz locked his legs around his waist and wriggled in an attempt to get Prowl moving. "Please what?"

A disbelieving laugh escaped the Decepticon's parted lips at Prowl's uncharacteristic dominance in the berth. "Move, Prowler! Frag it, just- just frag me!"

Prowl experimentally thrust forward, leaning both hands on either side of Jazz's head for balance. "Ah.. Is this okay?" The tactician asked uncertainly. Without warning, Jazz burst out laughing, causing Prowl to frown. "What?"

"Heheh- oh, Prowler, ya kill meh.. Yer so funny.." Jazz was shaking with laughter, and his vents hiccuped as he tried to gulp air into his charged up body.

Naturally, this was hardly the reaction Prowl had been hoping for with his first time interfacing with the attractive saboteur. "What have I done wrong?" He asked as he began to pull out.

"No, no, no!" A silver claw shot out and pulled the tactician back into him. "Don't ya dare leave meh hangin'! Ya didn' do anythin' wrong, Prowler, it's just that no one ever asked meh if they were fraggin' meh right."

With a scowl, Prowl tilted his hips, causing Jazz to groan and wiggle his hips again. "I have not done this before, I believe some guidance is in order."

Jazz stared at him in real disbelief. "Your spike is in mah valve. What kinda guidance do ya want meh ta give ya right now? Just move in and out!"

"Yes, okay." Prowl appeared flustered, and he quickly began pumping his hips again.

"Harder!" Jazz insisted, thrusting his own hips in order to meet Prowl's thrusts.

The tactician obliged, listening to the moans of the saboteur below him. "Is that-?"

"Yes!" Jazz didn't wait for the end of the sentence. "Just- go faster! Yes! Yes!"

Distantly, Prowl thought 'It must have been a while for Jazz, too' as the saboteur writhed and bucked under him. The expression of lust and bliss on Jazz's face caused crackles of desire through Prowl's frame, building his charge higher and higher. He paused his thrusts for a moment, panting. He didn't want to overload before Jazz.

With a furious whine, the saboteur pulled him back down to him. "M-move! What are ya doin'?!"

"Taking a moment." Prowl regained his composure, ignoring Jazz's look of fury. "Be patient."

"Prowl!" The howl echoed off the walls, and could possibly be heard from outside in the halls. "Frag meh NOW!"

"Patience." Prowl leaned down and nibbled at the Decepticon's audial horn. Jazz arched and gasped, fingers curling around Prowl's chest armour. "Hmm. Is this sensitive?"

"Very." Jazz shuddered. "K-kinda like yo' doorwings."

"Fascinating."

"Prowl!"

With a small chuckle, Prowl began pistoning his hips again. Jazz mewled when tingles of pleasure shot through him as his inner nodes were stimulated. A small smile crossed Prowl's face as he realised that he was clearly interfacing with Jazz in a manner that was pleasurable for both of them.

"Harder! C'mon, faster! Harder! There! Like that! Right there!" Jazz squealed, thrusting his hips hard to meet Prowl's hips as they clanged together.

The charge that had been building up in both of them reached its crescendo, and overload hit them both almost simultaneously. Electricity crackled over them, jumping between both their frames as the pleasure whited out both their processors.

The force of his overload was enough for to Jazz throw back his head and howl in pleasure, whilst Prowl merely grunted as he spilled his transfluid into the saboteur's constricting valve. The Praxian's optics widened in horror as the haze of overload faded and he realised what he had done. "Oh! I am so sorry, I was uncertain as to what preference you had as regarding mechs overloading-"

"Don' ruin the afterglow, Prowler." Jazz murmured hazily, pulling the larger mech down on top of him. "Ah want yo' transfluid inside o' meh."

Allowing the Decepticon to pull him down, Prowl relaxed against the smaller silver mech. "Very well."

Jazz smiled contentedly against Prowl's chassis. "Tha' was great, Prowler."

"It.. was?" The tactician frowned confusedly. "I believe I only followed your instructions."

"Hehe. Ya did, but in the best way. Has anyone ever told ya you're like a god in the berth?"

An owlish blink answered that question. "No."

"Well, ya are." Jazz snuggled closer to his partner. "Was it as good fer yo' as it was fer meh?"

"Yes, it was relatively pleasurable."

Jazz raised his helm sharply. "'Relatively'?"

"Yes."

"Wh- ya mean you've had better?"

"Jazz, I have no wish to hurt your feelings-"

It was safe to say the afterglow had vanished. "Prowl! Who was better?! Ya know what, Ah'm not acceptin' that!"

"Jazz!" Prowl yelped as his berthmate abruptly pulled his spike out of his valve. "What are you-"

"Ah ain't leavin' here until Ah've given ya the best overload ya've ever had."

With a roll of his optics and a shake of his head, Prowl said "That may take a while."

"Challenge accepted." Jazz leered, sliding down Prowl's body once again.

...

It was three and a half hours later that Jazz turned up at Bluestreak's door, covered in black and white paint transfers and grinning from audio to audio.

The younger Praxian stared at the small dents and dings that covered the silver mech, before discreetly coughing. "Umm.. You have, uh.. Is that Prowl's paint?"

Jazz glanced down at himself and eyed the black and white streaks all over his chassis and crotch area. "Yep. Is Bee here?"

"Uhh... Yeah. Yeah.. Bumblebee? Rumble is here!"

There was a crash from inside the room, and someone cursed before a flash of yellow appeared in the doorway and attached itself to Jazz's leg. "You came back!"

"'Course Ah did, li'l mech. Ah promised, didn' Ah?"

Bumblebee nodded, but didn't relinquish his grip on the armour plates in Jazz's leg. "Can we go? I'm tired."

"Sure, 'Bee. Hey Blue, are the Twins in there wit'ya again?" The saboteur glanced up at the young Praxian, his false blue visor flashing.

As if waiting for his cue, Sideswipe slid into view behind Bluestreak. "Oh. Hello."

"Prowler probably wouldn't be happy t' see ya spendin' the night." Jazz warned.

Frowning, Bluestreak folded his arms across his chassis. "That's.. hypocritical considering... you." He waved at Jazz's body.

A sharp grin crossed the silver mech's face at that. "Ah'm not saying Ah agree wit' him. But Primus, when he's doin' things like tha' t' meh, Ah ain't gonna argue wit' him no matter what he says."

"Ew." Sunstreaker pointed out as he suddenly appeared beside his twin from behind Bluestreak. "That's a little too much information."

"Shh!" The red frontliner hissed at his grumpy counterpart. "I want details!"

"No!" Bluestreak looked horrified. "I don't want to know!"

Jazz threw back his helm and laughed, absently petting Bumblebee's helm as the youngling clung to him, clearly not understanding the conversation. "Ah swear, he's a god in the berth. Anyone ever said that 'bout him?"

"No!" Bluestreak squealed in horror.

"Well, he is." Jazz said confidentially. "Ah c'n barely walk."

"Maybe you should see a medic." Bumblebee piped up innocently.

"Nah, Ah'll be fine." Jazz grinned down at his new charge. "Ah feel great, 'Bee. Ya didn't leave anything behind in Blue's, did ya?" He asked. The youngling just shrugged in response. "Well, go check."

The second Bumblebee had run inside the room again, Sideswipe shook his head. "I can't believe you managed to convince Prowl to frag you."

"Prowler don't frag, he makes love." Jazz corrected. A morbidly fascinated look passed over Sideswipe's face just as Bumblebee raced out of the room again and reattached himself to Jazz's leg. The saboteur glanced down, and raised his optic ridges beneath his visor upon seeing that the youngling was clutching something in his hands. "What's that?"

"Pixel." Bumblebee murmured, holding it up for Jazz to see.

"Can Ah see it?" At Bumblebee's hesitant nod, Jazz was handed a little doll-like figure made from a compound of iron and steel. The hinges of its arms and legs squeaked slightly when the appendages moved, and it was missing an LED light that seemed to be its optics. "What is it?"

"It's Pixel." Bumblebee repeated, smiling cheerfully.

::He wouldn't let anyone touch it. I think someone gave it to him to keep him calm when Ratchet was doing his examination.:: Bluestreak pinged Jazz over a private comm.

Jazz shot the young sniper a sharp look, curious as to how Bluestreak had gotten his private comm. number. Turning his attention back to the youngling clinging to his leg, he smiled and handed back the doll. "It's very nice, Bee."

"She. She's a femme." Bumblebee corrected, hugging 'Pixel' to his chassis.

"Oh, my bad. C'mon, it's time for berth, li'l guy." Jazz bent and scooped the youngling up into his arms. "See ya later, guys. Thanks f'r mindin' Bee."

Bluestreak smiled and waved, before the Twins grabbed him and pulled him inside. Resting his head on the silver mech's shoulder, Bumblebee smiled absently. "Hey.. Can I ask you a question?"

"'Course ya can."

"Is your name Jazz or Rumble?" The youngling asked, frowning curiously.

"Ah..." That hadn't been what Jazz had been expecting. He frowned as he walked down the hall, making sure no one was around to hear him. "Mah name's Jazz. But it's important that ya don't tell anyone that, m'kay? It'll be our li'l secret."

"Okay!" An excited grin began forming on Bumblebee's young face. "I won't tell anyone, I promise! Does Prowl know?"

Jazz laughed good-naturedly as they arrived at Prowl's quarters. "He sure does, Bee." He assured the youngling as he typed in the code into the keypad. The doors slid open, and they arrived into the room.

Prowl was sitting on the couch with his wings splayed relaxedly behind him. He was reading a datapad, though he glanced up when the door opened. "Ah, hello Bumblebee."

The youngling smiled shyly in greeting. "Hiya."

Jazz swung him down and set him on his pedes. "Ya gonna go over an' say hi properly?"

The tactician sat up straighter, although his posture was infinitely more relaxed than usual. He smiled slightly as Bumblebee crawled up on the couch beside him, clutching Pixel to his chassis. "What is that?" He asked, looking at the doll.

"Tha's Pixel." Jazz grinned, loping over and throwing himself onto the couch beside Prowl. "Ain't he cute?"

"Indeed." The tactician mused. "Where did you get it? I was unaware you brought any belongings with you."

"Pixel is a femme." Bumblebee corrected immediately, before moving on to answer the question. "A nice mech gave her to me when I was being looked over by the doctor."

A curious frown creased Prowl's forehelm. "Who was this nice mech?"

"I... I think his name was Spectrum."

Jazz froze, sitting up straight all of a sudden. "Spectrum? No! No way! He ain't allowed ta give ya anythin'!"

With a roll of his optics, Prowl shook his head. "Jazz, calm yourself."

"He gave li'l Bee somethin'! He ain't allowed ta do tha'! Ah saved Bee! He's mah sparklin', not his!"

Silence fell for a long moment, before Bumblebee turned to look up at the saboteur with coolant tears shining in his optics. "You'll be my new creators?"

An awkward pause took over, and Prowl glanced at the Decepticon from the corner of his gaze. "Bumblebee, I am sure no one will be able to replace your creators-"

"But you can be better creators!" Bumblebee spoke with a quiver in his voice. "Please? You will, won't you?"

Jazz jumped in before Prowl could speak again. "O' course, Bee."

::Jazz, Decepticons killed his true creators. If he were to discover your aliiance-::

::Well, Ah'll make sure he don't!:: Jazz replied harshly.

::You would not have to if you would defect.::

::Not now, Prowler.::

Meanwhile, Bumblebee was smiling at the two of them. "We can do family stuff, right?"

With a frown, Prowl shot a single glance at Jazz, before turning back to the youngling. "What is 'family stuff'?"

"Going places together, getting energon together, watching movies together, doing puzzles together-"

At the mention of 'puzzles', Prowl's doorwings perked up. "Puzzles? Like-"

"Jigsaws and riddles and stuff!" Bumblebee cheered, waving his arms and jumping up and down on the couch.

Black and white wings wiggled excitedly. "I have several jigsaws!"

Jazz looked between the two of them, barely stifling his laughter. "That sounds awesome, guys." He stretched out leisurely on the couch, laying his helm in Prowl's lap and his legs over Bumblebee in order to stop the little youngling from bouncing.

Almost absentmindedly, Prowl stroked the saboteur's helm. An amused smile pulled at his lips as he petted Jazz's audio horns and the Decepticon practically melted into a purring liquid-silver puddle. "When will we be getting the results of Bumblebee's medical examination?"

"Doctor Ratchet said tomorrow." Bumblebee smiled, before the smile faltered and he tilted his helm at the Praxian. "Can... Can I stay here? Please? I don't have anywhere else to go... I'd like to stay with you and Jazz. I know you might not like me, but-"

It was plain to see that Bumblebee had prepared this speech in advance, but Prowl held his hand up to stop the youngling. "Bumblebee, myself and Jazz have already spoken about this-" he deliberately ignored Jazz's snicker - there had, after all, been very little speaking involved in their activities - and continued talking directly to the youngling. "-and we agreed that you are welcome to stay here for as long as you need. I apologise that my social skills were severely lacking in our first meeting. We would be honoured if you-"

With a delighted laugh, Bumblebee threw himself on his new guardians. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Jazz laughed and pulled the youngling in so he was squashed between the saboteur's silver frame and the tactician's larger black and white body. "Welcome to the fam'ly, li'l mech."

...

It was almost strange how something as simple as sleeping habits became almost as important to Jazz as energon. If he wasn't sleeping right next to Prowl (preferably with the tactician's arms around him), Jazz found it difficult to recharge.

Naturally, Primus decided to make things difficult. Now, Bumblebee was added to those who couldn't recharge without the stoic tactician.

"Jazz? When's Prowl coming back?" Bumblebee rested his chin on the armrest of the chair the saboteur was residing in.

Jazz glanced up from the datapad in his hand. "He'll be back after his shift, baby Bee. Promise. Why don't ya hop inta berth?"

"I can't sleep without Prowl." Bumblebee whispered, as if fearful that someone would hear him. "Is that one of his reports?"

The datapad in Jazz's hand was waved a little. "Yep. Ah'm just fillin' it in f'r him. He stresses himself out way too much over these things."

With a little grunt, Bumblebee dragged himself up onto Jazz's chair and curled up on the saboteur's lap. "I'm tired."

"Ah know, Bee." A swift check to his chronometer showed him that there was only another ten minutes until Prowl's shift was over. "He'll be back to us soon."

After the report was finished up and set on the table, Jazz turned his attention to the sleepy youngling in his lap. Bumblebee yawned tiredly. "Can you tuck me in so we can wait for Prowl to get home?"

"Yeah. Sure, buddy." He smiled and picked Bumblebee up, carrying him over to the berth. The little yellow mech barely twitched as he was moved. "You're super small, ya know that?"

"I know." Bumblebee said sadly as Jazz lay down next to him on the berth. "My other creators used to complain about it all the time."

Jazz looked down at the youngling with a curious frown. "Complain? Why?"

"Doctor Ratchet told you I was a minibot, right?" When the silver mech nodded, Bumblebee continued. "Well, my creators never wanted a minibot sparkling. My brothers were all normal mechs, and my sire had been hoping I would be too. I.. He was disappointed that I wasn't."

There was a brief silence before Jazz laid his hand on the minibot's head. "Hey, there's absolutely nothin' wrong wit' bein' small. Ah was teased all the time when Ah was a younglin' fer bein' small, but the important thing is not t' let it get t' ya."

"Yeah, I guess." Bumblebee mumbled, cuddling into Jazz's chassis. "What was your younglinghood like?"

The only sign that the question stressed Jazz was a slight brightening of his visor. "It was... uneventful."

"Oh." Bumblebee breathed. "But where are your creators?"

"Dead."

"Like mine?"

Silence again, before "Yeah, buddy. Like yours."

A tiny hand reached up and tapped on the saboteur's visor. "Can I see your optics?"

Jazz stiffened, but his voice remained as blasé as always. "No can do. The visor don't come off."

"Oh. But it can change colour, right? Because it was blue yesterday." He tapped the red crystal of Jazz's visor curiously.

"Sure can." The red glowed brighter, and Jazz grinned sharply. "Cool, right?"

"Yeah. I like it better blue, though."

"Seriously? Prowl said that too."

"I think blue suits you better." Bumblebee cuddled closer to the saboteur. "Red scares me."

"Why?" Jazz frowned behind his visor.

"Because the mechs that hurt my family had red optics."

"Oh." Jazz went silent.

"Your visor still looks nice, though." Bumblebee insisted, not wanting Jazz to be angry with him.

"Thanks, Bee."

The sound of the door opening caused Jazz to practically fly out of the berth and over to the doorway to greet Prowl. "You're back!"

"Yes." Prowl sighed tiredly as the door closed behind him, and allowed Jazz to wrap his arms around him and kiss him.

"Ewww!" Bumblebee complained, covering his optics as his guardians kissed passionately.

Jazz flapped a hand at him to be quiet as Prowl lifted him off his feet with the strength of returning the kiss. "Missed ya." He mumbled into the tacticians mouth. Prowl smiled into his partner's mouth and rubbed his thumb in circles into Jazz's back.

"Gu-u-u-ys! I'm tired! I wanna sleeeep!" Bumblebee whined from the berth, crossing his arms huffily.

The two grown mechs broke the kiss, both panting heavily as they resurfaced for air. Jazz rested his forehelm on the red chevron and grinned widely at Prowl. The Praxian returned the smile, although in a much more reserved manner. "Perhaps it is time for recharge."

"Mhmm. Carry meh?" Jazz hid his face in the tactician's shoulderplates.

"Lazy." Accused Prowl teasingly as he carried the saboteur to the berth like a sparkling. "You both look tired."

"So do you." With a frown, Jazz stroked Prowl's face. The tactician's optics were dim with fatigue, although he was hiding his exhaustion heroically. "Poor baby."

A snort exploded from Prowl as he laid the silver mech on the berth. "Oh, hush. How come you did not go to berth earlier?"

Jazz shot him a disgruntled look, before reaching up and pulling him down onto the berth beside him. "'Cause neither o' us can recharge wit'out ya."

"That is... highly illogical. My presence should have no bearing upon your recharge protocols-"

"Shut up." Jazz muttered affectionately, kissing Prowl's chestplates next to his spark. "You're here now. Bee, you gonna come and recharge?"

Bumblebee nodded and shuffled closer to his guardians, cuddling into their warmth. "I'm tired."

"Recharge now." Prowl instructed, although his stern aura was lessened slightly by the saboteur snuggling him. Nevertheless, the youngling was in recharge within minutes. Turning his attention to the amorous Decepticon beside him, Prowl said "You should recharge too."

"Yeah.. Ah'll try."

"Try?"

"Haven' been sleepin' well lately." He murmured, playing with the edges of Prowl's wings.

The delicate metal shivered slightly under Jazz's ministrations, but the tactician's face remained devoid of emotion. "I see. I could ask Ratchet if he had anything to-"

"No. Ah don' like medics much." Jazz muttered, nuzzling Prowl's neck.

"Yes, I understand that. How come you have been having recharge problems?"

The real reason was that the Decepticon's mind had been preoccupied with Vortex. The meeting with the interrogator had bothered him more than he let on, particularly what the Combaticon had said. The thought that Megatron actually wanted Jazz to return to the Decepticon cause was startling, and Jazz couldn't figure out what to do. The illogical part of his processor told him to stay with Prowl no matter what. The OTHER part of his processor (the part Jazz didn't like very much) reminded him that he had dedicated most of his adult life to the Decepticons, and it would be sheer stupidity to leave all that behind without a thought.

"Jazz?"

The saboteur jerked in surprise, remembering he wasn't alone. "Oh, sorry. Uh.. Ah dunno, Prowler. Better try, right?"

"Right." Prowl murmured, watching curiously as the silver mech offlined his optics and laid his head down to rest.

Jazz waited until Prowl had fallen into recharge before sitting back up and sighing. His mind was still whirling wildly, and he hated it. There had been a time that he would have welcomed the chaotic numbness the madness in his mind offered him, but that was before he met Prowl. Within a week of simply being around the tactician, the chaos in his head had calmed. Prowl didn't like the madness - he became unsettled by it whenever it took over Jazz. The tactician had managed to settle him down, somehow. And yet now, since Vortex, his mind was whirling again. Things were beginning to blur together again, and that was most certainly not good for anyone.

Before, when he had been just another insane, homicidal Decepticon, he had interfaced blindly with anyone just to chase an overload for that one moment of clarity afterwards before the madness consumed him again. With Prowl, it was so different. Overwhelmingly so. With Prowl, he didn't have to chase an overload for a moment of clarity - his whole time spent with him was perfect, and everything was clear as crystal.

The thought of returning to Megatron should have been out of the question, but it simply wasn't. Jazz sighed and buried his helm in his hands, completely stressed out. Who would have thought that one decision would be so hard to make?

"Ugh." Jazz groaned and flopped back on the berth. He knew he would have to make his decision soon, but he was going to draw it out for as long as he possibly could.

"Jazz? Whut're yoo doin'?" Prowl asked confusedly, sleepily onlining one of his optics.

The sleepy tone of the tactician's voice made Jazz smile as he cuddled up to Prowl. "Nothin', baby. Go back to recharge."

"But.." Prowl rolled over slightly, frowning tiredly at the saboteur as he became more awake. "What were you-"

"Ah was just thinkin'." Jazz hushed him. "Go t' recharge, Prowler."

"M'kay." He murmured, pulling Jazz closer to his white chassis.

Jazz loved Prowl when he was sleepy. And when he was awake. "G'night."

"Mhmm."

As Jazz rested his head on Prowl's shoulder, he cast all thoughts of Vortex and the Decepticons out of his mind. At least, he tried.