Off to the Side: Jazz

Author's note: Perhaps now would be a good time to say that this is not in chronological order. And if that doesn't boggle your mind, try this: Turned Off (last chapter) takes place during this one, and the next chapter will also take place during this one, but before Turned Off. --;; I think I'll put a chronology up when I feel this story is finished (approximately three chapters from this one). Also this was originally going to be Sunny's chapter, but Jazz hijacked it.

WARNING!: Non-consensual sex and blackmail between two Autobots.

Time: Earth

Sunny an' me don't have a lot in common. He's a big, burly warrior, relyin' on his strength an' not so much on his cortex. If I trusted only my strength, I'da been dead vorns ago. Sunny's one half of a twinned spark. There's no slaggin' way I understand that. No one can. Sunny's antisocial, an' some might say I'm a social butterfly. I just like to think I'm friendly.

Nevertheless there's one thing we share in common. We both love someone and can't do nothin' about it. His lover is still on Cybertron. I can't even call my interest a lover, 'cause he's spurned every single one'a my advances. Still, Sunny an' I find a strange camaraderie in not being able to have what we most long for. Not that either of us spend every recharge alone. We both find substitutes to tide us over until the cycle we're in our desired's arms.

So when I saw my opportunity, naturally I seized it.

I was monitorin' th' grid while Prowl was working through what went wrong in th' last battle. I didn't quite understand the diagrams he was lookin' at. I knew that somehow th' 'Cons had separated all three of our gestalt teams. Devastator an' Bruticus had both torn up a good majority of our troops, an' the city to boot. Most of th' crew were still in recovery, or working despite their partial repairs. Ratch was fritzin' because he doesn't have th' materials on hand for some of th' repairs, an' has to wait for them. As a result, Prowl was missin' one'a his doorwings, an' I could see him shiftin' ta regain his balance every so often. I think I got off the lightest outta all'a us. I just had a few holes blown through me, all'a them missin' vital circuits and parts.

"Prowl," Prime stepped up behind his second-in-command. I saw in his face somethin' I rarely saw, an' never directed at Prowl. Suspicion. Naturally my nosy self took th' trouble to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Prime's voice dropped a few decibels, but I could still hear him. "I was wondering if you could explain some inconsistencies in your activities."

I love my visor, it lets me tilt my head ever-so-slightly an' observe without bein' observed. Prowl's expression shifted so quickly, I almost thought I imagined his surprise. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Prime." The Datsun pitched his voice low, so I had ta strain t'hear him.

Maybe Prime was havin' the same problem, 'cause he leaned closer. "Are you sure there's nothing I should know about, Prowl?" Trust Prime not t' outright accuse anyone, at least not before they have a chance ta defend or explain themselves.

I saw Prowl struggle to keep his façade. That's when it hit me. Slag, Prowl was hiding something. He was thinkin' about, or probably had been, lying to Prime. An' I knew Prime realized this, and it hurt him. Of all the mechs Prime put his trust in, Prowl was always th' least likely to betray him. He was too by th' book, he'd pob'ly arrest himself first.

"No, Prime," Prowl finally said.

Anger touched our commander's optics an' he pulled a datapad out of subspace an' thrust it into Prowl's white hands. "Then you have a reasonable explanation for why you weren't where you say you were."

Prowl ducked his face out of Prime's sight, hiding under the edge of his helm an' his chevron as he looked the datapad over. Prime couldn't see it, but I could. Prowl's optics widened at what he read an' his face slacked in shock and fright. I could almost see him processing for a reason for whatever it was.

I managed to catch a few dates and times as Prowl scrolled through them. I didn't know what Prowl was hidin', but that didn't mean I couldn't help.

"Aw, man, Prime. I didn't know you was monitorin' our extracurricular activities."

Both of them turned to look at me, both surprised.

"You know where he was?" Prime asked.

Prowlie, man, I hope y' ain't betrayin' us t' th' 'Cons. Of course that was ridiculous. Prowl of all bots? Tch, right and the Dinobots were rocket scientists.

"Sure, like last April, on the…" I made a point of pausing as though to recall the exact date. Prowl's optics widened further, showing the edges of his optical lens. "…twentieth. He was meetin' me fer some alone time. It's hard to find time together here, y'know." I had to hold back a guffaw as Prowl looked on the verge of a crash. Thankfully, I was known to run off without lettin' anyone know. Bad habit for an officer, but good fer Prowl's situation.

Prime drew himself up and blinked down at both of us.

Prowl reached out a hand an' placed it on mine. I could feel th' slight tremor of his fingers from that contact. "You know how hard it is for me to get away from work, Prime. I'm always bringing it to my quarters. It distracts me from Jazz when he'd rather have all my attention."

When Prowl tried to pull his hand out of mine, I wrapped my fingers around his an' brought them up to place a kiss on his knuckles. "'s okay Prowlie, I know you're a busy mech."

Prime shifted with distinct discomfort. "Ah, well, certainly that is nothing to hide, Prowl. I'm sorry, I hadn't realized. How long…?"

I couldn't answer that, 'cause I didn't know how far back we were coverin'.

Thankfully, Prowl did know. "Shortly after we woke here." He placed his other hand on top of mine, giving it a grateful squeeze. "We came so close to permanent deactivation I couldn't bear him dying without knowing how I felt."

"Very good then." Primes' optics brightened in relief. "If you need time off, Prowl, I'm sure we can work something out." Prime put a large hand on our shoulders. "You're not…?"

"No."

Ouch, Prowl. Careful there, y'might blow yer cover.

The Datsun glanced at me. "We'll wait until after the war for that. If you could keep it quiet until then, Prime."

"Ah. You don't want to share quarters?"

"That would most certainly give it away, so no, thank you."

Slag.

I'm sure by the time the war ends, we'll have 'fought' and 'broken up.' Well, not if I have anythin' t' say 'bout that. In th' meantime, I'm gonna t' pump this for all it's worth.

Prime seemed satisfied an' walked back to his office.

I leaned towards Prowl an' nuzzled his cheek , fully aware that Red's cameras had caught all of that. "Least now we don't have t'hide it."

The look he shot me could'a frozen fire. "You know I don't like public displays, Jazz." He caressed my cheek with stiff fingers as he pushed me away. "We'll talk about this tonight in my quarters, love," he whispered in my receiver.

Y' know I'm there Prowl.

My shift ended before his, so I went to spruce myself up. Cleaned. Fresh coat of wax. I think I could'a competed with Sunny an' Tracks. Now, if a certain tactician would notice.

I gave him thirty earth minutes to get off and get some energon. Then I chimed for his attention. The door slid opened an' I stepped into his room.

He kept the lights at a medium brightness, enough t' see by, without being too drainin' on th' reserves. He sat at his desk, starin' at a datapad. I had the feelin' he'd been staring at it a while.

He looked up at me, and it was th' most vulnerable I'd ever seen him.

"Jazz…"

"I just wanna know somethin', Prowl."

He shifted, optics dim, dreading. "Depends on what it is."

"Y'ain't betraying us t' any 'Cons, are y'?" Thank the Matrix that Red couldn't get permission ta set up cameras in any quarters. Prime considered that a breach of trust.

Prowl relaxed, air sighing out of his vents. "No."

"Y'ain't Megatron's interface toy, or any of th' other 'Cons?"

The tactician drew himself up. "That's ridiculously illogical."

I grinned and continued forward to lean against his desk. "I'd love ta know what I'm covering you for."

I could hear gears grind as Prowl set his jaw. "I'd rather not."

"Well, I ain't gonna force you. Just let me know th' dates an' times."

The Datsun sat back in surprise. "You're willing to continue this?"

"Well, it ain't gonna be free, if that's what you're thinking."

Suspicion narrowed his eyes. "What did you want from me?"

I leaned across the desk and pressed my lips against his. "You."

I'd never seen him move so fast. Still didn't see it this time. Papers flew, the chair clattered to the floor and datapads slid off the desk. Next I saw, he stood with his wingless shoulder pressed against the wall, refusing to look at me. His doorwing shielded his panting mouth.

I straightened and slid after him, reaching out. "Come on, Prowl. I'll get in serious trouble if Prime finds out. So will you." I slipped an arm around him. "Consider it a part of the cover."

He flinched away from me as I kissed his cheek.

"No," he ground out, and turned his head.

"I could always tell Prime that I made a mistake. It's not too late for me to get out light."

If he had laser eyes, I'm sure I'd have two holes burned through me.

I pulled him closer, kissing his unresponsive mouth. He trembled in my arms and I sought to sooth him with caresses and kisses. I could've jumped him then and there, but I wanted him comfortable. So I drew him to his berth

I explored his body with my fingers and lips. 'Screen had shown me how sensitive doorwing joints were. I wanted Prowl to react, to squirm. I slid my hands along his side and plunged my fingers into both junctions, scraping against wires and hinges.

Finally the black and white body jolted and I captured the cry that exploded from his lips.

"Jazz…"

Ah, to hear him say my name…

"Please!"

I pressed my fingers deeper and his vocalizer crackled with another cry. He arched his back, whimpering, feet sliding against the berth.

He gripped the edge off the berth, refusing to touch me and, when I released his lips, he twisted his head away.

"Jazz, please. Sto-"

I dug my fingers into his wingless side, eliciting a shriek, sure to be heard throughout the Ark.

Someone banged on the door. "Is ev'rythin' all righ' in thar, Prowl?"

Prowl and I looked at one another. I twisted a wire on his left side.

"Fine!" Prowl yelped. "Everything's fne."

"Ya don' sound fine." Concern colored Ironhide's voice.

"You're not helping," the tactician hissed at me, trying to squirm away.

I grinned back. "Can't resist ya." I drew my hand from his winged side and caressed the cables in his neck, playing my lips over them.

"I tripped over something," he shouted at the waiting mech.

"In your quarters?"

"Yes, I had a…hn" His engine finally came to life. "Accident. I had an accident. Made a bit of a mess."

"You did?"

Prowl panted, mouth gaping, optics flickering. It wasn't difficult ta realize that he was close t' overload. "Yes, but I'm fine."

I chortled, tracing the edge of his black accent, enjoying him shaking beneath me.

"A'right. If yer sure." Ironhide's heavy footsteps shuffled away.

I resumed my attentions on his side. "Does it hurt, Prowlie?"

He glared at me, mouth set in a defiant line. With an unbelievable amount of concentration, he cut his engine of. He seemed determined not to enjoy my touch. I'll see about that. I coaxed his engine back over, attacking both door hinges. I'd never heard him squeal before, but I muffled the sound with a passionate kiss. I didn't feel like getting' interrupted again.

"Jazz," he burst, the words catching on his vocalizer, "Sto- Hng!" He bucked as I pressed his hinges.

"Why don't y' act like yer enjoyin it, an' maybe I'll stop." I played my lips over his chestplate, back to the cables on his neck. My fingers scraped their way up to the windshield on his back. His optics flared and he pressed himself away. A restrained cry crackled out of his gaping mouth.

I could feel him shift, and hear the protest of metal as he bent the sides of his berth.

"C'mon, Prowl, I ain't gonna leave y' alone till y' do.," I murmured.

He writhed a few moments and then he attacked me. Metal squealed as he sought to bring my already aroused self into a quick overload.

But I got him first.

He jerked, his systems fritzing. His hand stilled as he reset. I dug my fingers into his injured side, forcing him to react. He whimpered, pitiably, and winced, spent.

"C'mon, Prowlie."

He dragged his hands along sensitive seams. He turned away every time I tried to kiss him. When the world cleared of the static form overload, I found myself on my back.

I could hear air hiss from him as he cycled to cool himself down. He faced the wall, resting on his wingless side. I rolled over and draped an arm over his waist. I hummed happily and nuzzled against his neck.

"Are you satisfied?"

"Hm. Fer now."

"For now," he deadpanned back to me. "Then get off my berth. And out of my quarters."

He turned over and all but threw me out.

I stood outside his door, and a soft glow on my fingers caught my attention. Pink fluid glistened on the fingers I'd dug into Prowl's side. I had ta have been hurtin' him. So, why hadn't he said anythin'?

"I hope you're not deluding yourself that I'll fall aft over cortex for you."

I paused in tryin' t' coax another charge outta him. "Might just take some time. I can wait."

Imagine my surprise when he actually laughed and kicked me out.

I still didn't know what he was hidin' from everyone. A cursory exam of th' records didn't show nothin'. An' our relationship, such as it was, didn't seem ta be goin' nowhere. He asked that I refrain from cuddling up t' him, an' calling him endearing names 'round th' others. I respected that, hopin' t' earn some brownie points on his board. Still I knew he wasn't happy with th' arrangement, but I couldn't give him up so soon.

I lay on my berth, tuned into my internal radio. I was watchin' tv, an' wasn't payin' attention t' the door. I still don't know how I missed it openin'. All I knew was that Prowl was suddenly standing by my berth, staring down at me as though he were even now weighing his decision. He must'a used his security override. Sneaky slagger.

I don' know if my open-armed invitation helped make up his mind or not. He climbed up with me, which is more than he'd ever done. His purring engine belied his dispassionate face. I only managed t' keep my hands t' myself for a little bit, but he was way too tempting. I ran my hands up the bottom of his doorwings. He buried his face in my neck junction, moaning and clutching. It wasn't all that hard, since his engine already thrummed readily, t' convince him ta plug in. Th' heady, double feeling of our hands on one another sent us both into simultaneous overload.

I wondered if this had anything to do with Wheeljack's lab blowin' up. If so, I might have t' see that it happens more often.

All th' ground I thought I'd gained, I realized had never been there when Prowl walked out, without a word, bowed with shame. I doubt th' usually observant tactician even noticed Sunstreaker passing by, though the golden warrior certainly noticed him. He even reset himself in a double take. A disturbing frown crossed his handsome face as he locked optics with me before the door closed.

By this time, th' rumors about 'Prowl and Jazz' were flyin'. I found both of us the subjects of curious looks and whispered conversations. But I kept my promise t' him and never confirmed th' gossip. Prowl had been continuing his disappearance acts. I tried t' follow him once, only t' have Sunstreaker stop me with an intriguing question. How he found me, I don't know. I'm no Mirage, but I can usually avoid bein' noticed when I want to.

The room was lit as it always was, not too dim, nor too bright. Prowl sat at his desk, sorting through datapads. He didn't look at me, even after his doors closed.

"Not right now, Jazz. I have a lot of work to do."

I slunk over to his side. "I could always talk to Optimus about your work."

He paused and glanced at me. Finally with a resigned sigh he stood an' let me drag him to the berth.

As always he turned away from me afterward. I traced my finger down his arm, still trying to process the fact that, in essence, he was mine. Briefly I wondered if I could talk him into spark bonding. I could just 'test the waters,' as th' humans say.

"Hey, sparkles," he went rigid as I leaned into whisper into his receiver, "what would y' say t'-"

He flipped over, his doorwing whapping me in my face. I found myself on th' floor, tryin' t' calibrate my visor. His feet clanged on the floor as he shoved himself off th' berth. He grabbed my arm and hauled me off my aft.

"Don't call me that," he snarled in a voice normally reserved for Decepticons.

"Why?" I asked, dumbfounded. Not like anyone was around t' hear.

"I… hate that name."

He shoved me outta his room and the door hissed between us. I frowned at the orange panel. My sensors tingled and I whipped about to face a golden shoulder.

Sunstreaker loomed over me. I opened my mouth t' apologize when I noticed the expression on Sunny's face. Th' same expression I see out on th' battlefield. Cold, an' full of barely contained fury. He moved, faster than me, an' lifted me off my feet by my throat. I struggled against him uselessly. I reached for my gun, but he grabbed my arm, bending metal with his grip.

He shoved my back into th' wall, apparently not caring that Red's camera's were watchin' us. "So, it's true?"

I decided ta play dumb. "What?"

He tightened his grip. "You and Prowl? Is it true?"

Aw slag. I chose t' just bite th' bullet. No use lyin' now. "Yeah, Sunny. It's true."

He leaned closer t' me, his container of fury cracking at th' edges. "How long?"

Why did Sunny seem so mad? "We started not too long after we woke," I replied with the story Prowl told Prime. "What, nine earth years ago?"

"Nine years?" Despite his calm words, his grip squeezed lines in my neck, cuttin' my power t' my cortex

Then he dropped me, though hi s face thundered with rage, an' he slid a sneering glance toward Prowl's door. His steel blue optics turned back to me, waiting.

Confused, I retreated t' my quarters. Suspicion niggled its way through th' confusion, an' I sat down at my desk an' hacked into secure files. I pulled up th' list Optimus had shoved at Prowl. Then I pulled up duty logs from our time on Earth.

I narrowed th' parameters t' find correlations between Sunstreaker's off time and Prowl's disappearin' acts. It didn't make sense t' me. First of all Sunny would have beat the circuits outta me if he were interfacing with Prowl. Secondly, Sunny had someone, an' was considerably loyal t' that one. Sure he had his flings, but they were just that, flings. He couldn't care less if they interfaced with anyone else. As if it mocked me, the duty roster confirmed that Prowl and Sunstreaker's times didn't match.

I keyed in a change of parameters, replacing Sunstreaker's name with Sideswipe's.

It matched.

Every single time.

I sat there stunned. Prowl an' Sideswipe? I couldn't spark my processor t' those two spending more time than necessary in each other's company.

What a perfect cover-up.

I delved deeper, back t' when we were on Cybertron, as far back as the memory banks went uncorrupted.

Few, very few, were th' times that Prowl's off time didn't coincide with Sideswipe's.

How long have we not noticed them? How long…

Oh slagging Primus.

Sunstreaker knew.