Rae: Okay, so, here we go everyone! As promised, the final chapter of New Recruit. And hey, it didn't take me two more years! How about that?
Regardless, I just want to say a huge HUGE thank you to everyone who's been following this story and has stuck with it through everything. It means a great deal to me, and it's amazing to know I have so many supporters. I also actually met one of my readers at Auto Assembly back in August, and I have to say that was a MAJOR highlight and something that may or may not have kicked me in the buttocks to finish this for y'all. Sam, if you're reading this, thank you honey! x
I'd also like to take this opportunity to say that this is not the end of New Recruit's universe. I have a few ideas for more oneshots featuring Jasper, Adam, Orion and the rest of the 27th (and probably Elita too), so keep an eye out for them! My beta, the lunatic who cares, is in the middle of a spin-off story for this all about Heath and Thane, so if you're interested in their history and a much deeper delve into both of their lives, keep an eye on her as well. It should, hopefully, be starting after November, after NaNo has finished.
I myself am also in the middle of a spin-off story for my beta's fic 'Blurring the Lines' which will be Ratchet/Twins, mostly Twins-centric following their lives from younglings to post-war warriors trying to cope. If that sounds fun, be on the lookout for that too!
All in all I'm on a major writing spree at the moment and it's mostly thanks to all of you who have reviewed and kicked me up the backside when I needed it with your gentle reminders (coughcoughthatonegamergirl117coughcough). And of course my beta, her nagging has been legendary while this story's been ongoing! Couldn't have done this without her!
Okay, so, this entire universe is actually all her fault to begin with, but y'know...
If anyone's interested, I've put a playlist at the bottom of the fic of songs for the story. Have a listen while reading if you like! And at a couple of readers' requests I will be adding another "chapter", but this will be the names of everyone involved in the NR-verse mentioned in this fic and their Cybertronian equivalent. If you're confused about anyone, give the list a look and you'll see who's who :)
Anyway, without further ado, I give you all the penultimate chapter for New Recruit! Enjoy!
-x-
It was a couple of hours later when Orion arrived at the hospital to check on his men that he found Adam in the waiting area. He was curled up on one of the longer sofas under his jacket, brown hair loose around his face which looked lined and tense. His sleep was obviously fitful, because he made a low, weak sound and turned over slightly even as Orion sat next to him. The Commissioner put a hand on Adam's shoulder in a calming gesture, but the younger man didn't seem to acknowledge it, unconsciously or otherwise.
It was another half an hour before Adam finally stirred, and he sat blearily upright to blink stupidly at his commanding officer before he finally registered where he was and what he was doing. Orion smiled sadly when he noticed Adam was awake, and offered him a small cup of lukewarm coffee.
"Sorry it's not still hot," he said, a little apologetically. "Any news?"
Adam took the coffee slowly and didn't say anything at first, just sipped the beverage and grimaced at both the flavor - or lack thereof - and the temperature. When he did start talking it was quiet, sounding almost lost.
"No. They're both still in surgery. The doctors..." He hiccoughed slightly. "The doctors won't tell me anything."
"I guess they don't want to get your hopes up."
Adam growled rather loudly then, startling Orion. "I would rather have all the facts to judge for myself than be kept in the dark like this."
"I know, Prowl."
"Don't call me that," muttered Adam back at the Commissioner, but Orion could tell his heart wasn't really in it. His gaze was fixed on the doors into the surgical areas as though willing them to open and Jazz to come dancing out with his cheeky grin and dreads all wild, sipping his coffee periodically, almost mechanically.
To be honest, that was kind of what Orion was hoping too. Jazz seemed to have more luck than anyone he had ever met in his life, and he prayed that the Lieutenant carried on with his luck and pulled through. The last thing he wanted was for Adam to lose yet another partner; he was sure that would finally break him.
Alex, too, Orion prayed for. The paranoid security director was an exceptional worker, but more than that he was a friend. When Orion had first met Officer Redding he'd been transferred from another precinct who didn't seem to want him in their ranks. But the first fortnight on the job found their security systems heightened something chronic and Redding himself having thwarted no less than five attempted attacks, runs or escapes from the station. So Orion had kept him on more than happily, and eventually Redding mellowed slightly and became a good friend to the Commissioner.
-x-
It was another three hours before one of the doctors came back out to talk to them. He walked up to Orion, who was dozing while Prowl had fallen asleep properly on his shoulder, and smiled slightly before holding out his hand. Orion reluctantly dislodged Adam to stand up and shake it, while Adam started awake and peered blearily at the both of them.
"Commissioner Arkham?"
"That's me."
The doctor checked his clipboard quickly. "You're here for Lieutenant Miles and Officer Redding?"
"Yes, we both are."
The doctor spared a brief nod to Adam, who was rapidly catching himself up to speed and standing up. "I'm Doctor Hook. I'm here to tell you that both surgeries were a success, and both officers are in recovery in intensive care. Mr Redding should be out of intensive in a day or two, but we'll be keeping Mr Miles in for a while longer. His body was going into shock when he got here, so he's damn lucky he's alive and we want to keep him for observation to make sure he's well and truly out of the woods. But the prognosis is good, both men should make a full recovery."
Orion released a breath of sheer relief sharply, and Adam slumped against his superior with what sounded like a bad attempt to muffle a hiccup. The Commissioner smiled and shook the doctor's hand again.
"Thank you, Doctor. This is excellent news, I will take my leave and let the rest of my precinct know. They'll have torn down the building by now waiting for any kind of result." Orion clapped a hand gently on Adam's shoulder and picked up his coat to leave. The Detective watched his superior leave.
"Can I see Jasper?" he asked the doctor quietly, who looked surprised but nodded.
"Yes, but he won't be awake yet."
"That's fine," Adam replied. "I need to see for... for myself."
The doctor was silent for a moment before motioning for Adam to follow him. The Detective did, with a little bit more of a spring in his step.
-x-
When Orion arrived back at the precinct he was highly unsurprised to find most of his men in the common room, along with a fair few of Elita's underlings and Elita herself perched neatly on the arm rest of a sofa near the door. When she spotted him she immediately got up and hugged him, causing the room to fall silent almost instantaneously as every pair of eyes watched them curiously.
The 84th's leader touched his face before kissing him gently. "How are they?" She asked, voicing the thoughts of everyone in the room. Orion smiled at her tiredly.
"It was touch and go for both of them, but they'll pull through. Miles will stay in intensive care probably for the next week or so, and Redding won't be awake for another day yet. If anyone wishes to go visit them, please check both with the hospital and each other so they're not crowded."
A cheer rose up at Orion's words, several congratulatory and celebratory words and hugs thrown around the room. Elita's grin was a mile wide and she dragged her boyfriend back down for a much longer liplock, to several catcalls and wolf-whistles which she flipped off without batting an eyelid.
When she pulled away she didn't let Orion go far, tightening her grip on his shoulders. "If you ever," she muttered quietly so only her boyfriend could hear, "do something this stupid without calling me ever again I will filet you, married or not."
Orion chuckled weakly. "Hopefully it won't ever come to that again." He ran a hand down her face gently, then told her to stay put for a moment. He disappeared briefly, Elita tilting her head after him in confusion, but it was cleared up when he came back and promptly went down on one knee, holding up a small open blue box. At her raised eyebrows he smiled more substantially this time.
"Well, you did tell me to do it properly," he said, and Elita rolled her eyes. "So, Elita Carmichael, will you marry me?"
"That depends," she replied wryly, ignoring the fact the entire room was now completely silent and watching the both of them raptly. "Are you going to do something that stupid ever again?"
"I'd say no," Orion hedged, "but apparently my precinct can't keep themselves out of trouble. Someone's got to save their asses."
A round of protests from the 27th present erupted following that statement, and Elita sniggered. She held out a dainty left hand, brown eyes sparkling. "Ahh the joys of being a leader. I did say it before, but yes, you silly goose. I'll marry you."
Orion simply grinned and stood up, slipped the ring onto his girlfriend's finger and then swept her up into an embrace to another round of cheering, congratulations and jeering alike from all the officers filling up the common room. The Commissioner pulled away from his now-fiancée to laugh at them all while Elita needled them all back just as good as they were giving.
Jazz and Alex were going to be okay, Morgan was behind bars and as good as convicted with his operations in shambles, and the most wonderful woman in the world had agreed to marry him.
Things couldn't really get much better.
-x-
It wasn't until three days later that Jazz woke up. Adam had taken time off from work, and it hadn't taken any persuasion from Orion for him to do it; the Detective had enough leave and overtime built up that really, he didn't have to come back for nearly three months. As it was, Adam and Byron were both by Jazz's bedside conversing quietly when the saboteur awoke with a low, distressed noise. Prowl was by his partner's side in the next instant before Byron could blink, hand clenching Jazz's but not overly tightly, as though Adam were afraid of causing him any more pain.
"Jazz? Jazzy, can you hear me?"
The Lieutenant groaned again and took a couple more moments to pull himself together enough to wake up, and his eyes opened blearily. They searched futilely for Adam, hissing in pain when he moved his arm to grab at him.
"...Prowl?"
Adam gave him a wobbly little smile. "I'm here, Jazz. Me and Byron, we're both here."
"Good t' see you, buddy," Byron told him in hushed tones, settling himself on his friend's other side. "How are you doin'?"
"Been better." Jazz's voice was raspy, and almost instinctively Adam pulled the jug of water next to his partner's bed towards him and poured a glass, before letting Jazz drink slowly, steadily and only in teeny little sips. Jasper gave him a grateful look when the glass was pulled back.
"Thanks, partner."
"Anything, Jazz. Anything you need."
The Lieutenant's grip tightened. "Prowler, how long yeh been here?"
Byron answered for him, with a definite disapproval in his tone. "Nearly four days. He's only been out for coffee, and food when someone's pushed him."
Jazz huffed a laugh, followed by a whine of pain. "Tha's Adam alright." He poked the other man then. "Detective, yeh need t'take more care o' yerself. 'M fine, 'm in hospital. Yeh need yer rest."
"So do you," Adam grumbled back. "I'm fine, I'm not the one who got shot and then went into shock. Sleeping next to my partner in hospital is hardly-"
"Adam." Jazz's thumb ran soothing circles over the Detective's hand as he interrupted him. "Look after yerself. Fer meh. Yeh ain't doin' meh any good wastin' yer time here."
"I'm with you, it's not wasted." Adam leaned over Jazz, touching their foreheads together. "I needed to know. I couldn't lose you, not after... I can't lose another partner."
"Kyle wasn't your fault," interrupted Byron a little hotly. "How long-"
"I know," Adam said, raising his head to stare at the communications officer. "I know that now. But I just can't-"
"Ya ain't losin' meh that easy, Prowl," Jazz said gently, taking Adam's chin between his forefinger and thumb carefully. "I love ya. I am never lettin' go o' this, y'understand? Never."
There was silence for a moment, and then Prowl nodded uncertainly. "I love you too."
"Good." Jazz fell back against his pillows, tilting his head towards Byron. "How yeh been, bud?"
"I'm better now I know you're okay," replied Byron, smiling. "You really had us all worried, the whole station was in an uproar waitin' to hear you both were okay."
Jazz gave him a faint smirk then. "Ya know meh, man, I like t' keep people in suspense."
Byron snorted. "Yeah, please don't do it again."
"I'll try not t'. How's everyone else?"
"They're fine. A few scrapes and bruises, and Skylar and Heath have a bullet graze each t' show off. T' be honest, we got off extremely lucky, we didn't lose a single man." Byron tucked his arms around himself.
Jazz whistled lowly. "No kiddin'. How'd we manage that?"
"Elita and her team had impeccable timing," sighed Adam. "Any longer, and..." He trailed off, letting Jazz finish the sentence himself silently. The saboteur reached over to touch his hand to Adam's, smiling softly. He then yawned abruptly, and Byron started standing up.
"I think that's our cue, man," he said quietly. "We'll leave ya to sleep off your meds."
Adam looked set to stay, but Jazz pushed at him. "Ya need t' go home 'n get some proper sleep, Prowler. Yeh know 'm here 'n 'm okay, but now I need yeh alright too. 'N that ain't happenin' while yer here. So go."
"I..."
"Go, fer god's sake, Prowler." Jazz pushed at him weakly. "Please."
Adam stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Alright," he said slowly, "I will. I'll be back tomorrow."
Jazz lay back with a sleepy grin. "I figgered. See ya later, man."
"Yeah, see you." Adam stood up, and with one last lingering look at his partner, followed Byron out the door. Jazz watched them both go and sighed, shifting under his covers to get a little more comfortable before going to sleep with a small, contented smile.
-x-
When one of the nurses came in with Jazz's dinner the next day (seriously, hospital food left a hell of a lot to be desired), he asked her which room they were keeping Alex Redding in. She gave him a slightly odd look, but answered him readily enough. He finished his food - as bad as the food tasted he knew he needed to keep his strength up to heal - and eyed the doorway and then his IV. He looked pleased when he discovered his IV was attached to a moveable stand instead of a static one; it meant he could actually pull off this stunt.
Sitting up with great difficulty he swung his legs over the edge of his bed. Jazz waited a moment to collect his strength and then tried standing up, gripping the IV stand and bed railings like a vice until he was sure he could manage his own weight. Once the former gang-banger was sure of that he start walking forwards slowly, leaning heavily on the stand which spindled quite happily next to him.
When he got to the door Jazz took a quick look around to make sure none of the nurses were paying attention before escaping out of his room and heading towards the ward that held Alex Redding.
When he got there the security director was sat up against no few pillows looking thoroughly disgruntled about something and his own finished dinner tray on the table next to his bed. Alex turned his head with his mouth open, obviously about to say something to whoever was disturbing him, but when he registered who exactly was invading his doorway his eyes widened and his jaw clamped shut.
"Jazz?"
The African-American gave him a wavery grin. "Hey, man. 'S good t' see ya awake."
"You as well..." Redding shook his head and pointed a finger at Jazz. "Why are you here? You're meant to be in bed! Last I heard you were worse off than me-"
Jazz cut the other off with a wave, looking away slightly. "I jus' needed t' make sure yeh were okay. I was so sure Corey had gone fer th'kill shot, but 'm glad that's not th'case."
"You and me both," Alex muttered. He eyed the younger man warily, choosing silence for a moment to study him. "So..."
"So?"
"Will I need to be securing the entire precinct against a potential murderous rampage? I hear you were getting pretty kill-happy back there."
Jazz hung his head unhappily, snorting lightly. "Yeah, I was." He tightened his grip on the IV stand, straightening up a little more. "But no, yeh have nothin' t' worry 'bout. Not now, not ever. Foxtrot is away 'n he's stayin' away, Adam will make sure of that." His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "I'd never hurt him."
Alex stared at the dreadlocked man for a moment longer before nodding. "Bear in mind, Miles, I will be keeping a close eye on you when you get back to the precinct. I'll decide for myself whether I like what I see."
"Fair enough," agreed Jasper. "Now, is there a chair anywhere? 'M gettin' tired standin'. Th'morphine really takes it outta meh."
-x-
Adam was signing the papers out in the hallway for his partner's release when Jazz joined him, moving slow and stiff. A week and a half of rest had done the saboteur a world of good, but he still had two holes straight through his body and it was going to be some time before they were fully healed.
Jazz was also perfectly sick and tired of the same white walls and the overly-fussy nurses, the terrible food, the lack of music - something he was positive was like the worst torture ever, and the same damn three channels on TV. He wanted out.
And that was exactly what the Detective was doing after having wrangled a promise from Jazz that he would remain on strict bed rest. The saboteur had replied as long as he got some good food, more TV channels and music as loud as he could ever want he'd agree to anything Adam wanted him to. That seemed to satisfy the brunette, and had left almost straight afterwards to sign the release forms letting Jazz out of his self-proclaimed prison.
After dealing with the paperwork and getting the instructions on his partner's continued care, Prowl hooked an arm through Jazz's and gave him as much support as the saboteur needed. They meandered down to the ground floor and out through the lobby slowly, Prowl letting Jazz dictate the pace and how much he needed the older man. They bundled into the Detective's Fairlady, but the engine remained off as Adam turned to his partner.
"Your place or mine?" he asked, placing a light hand on Jazz's arm. The dreadlocked man sent him a teasing grin, though it was slightly pained.
"Ooo Prowler, yer quick off th' mark!"
His remark was met by the lightest slap on the upper arm. "Jazz!"
"What?" The Lieutenant gave him an expression of innocent surprise, but it didn't last long. There was a quick giggle before he spoke again. "Ma place please. I need t'b' home."
Adam nodded and the Datsun's engine rumbled into life.
The drive to Jazz's apartment was mostly quiet, some light classical music drifting from the radio but neither man saying anything. There wasn't really anything to say, and neither of them found the silence between them stifling or awkward. It was a comfortable atmosphere, broken only when they reached the parking block for Jazz's place. The saboteur's Porsche was still back at the precinct, so Prowl simply pulled into where the sports car usually sat, making sure to keep the passenger's side on the spare space next to them to make it easier for Jazz to get out.
They managed to make it to the front door relatively easily - thank god the complex had an elevator - and as soon as they were inside Adam seemed to go directly into Mother Hen mode, guiding the hapless African-American to the bed and ordering him to stay put before disappearing into the kitchen and Jazz heard the kettle being put on. He grinned, speaking up for the first time since the hospital, loudly so the brunette could hear him.
"I love yeh too, Prowler!"
There was a clank from in the kitchen, and Adam reappeared with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm simply making sure you remembered your promise."
Jazz rolled his shoulders slowly, standing up again carefully but in a way he knew damn well outlined every tone in his body. He walked over to Adam, wrapping his arms around a solid waist and smiling up at the older man disarmingly.
"How could I ferget?"
"Jazz-"
"I'll go back t' bed," the dreadlocked man reassured, "but only after I get sommat else."
"And what would that be?" Adam asked, settling a hand on Jazz's waist oh so carefully whilst the other brushed away a stray dreadlock creeping over one shoulder.
Jazz's smirk widened and he leaned up kiss Prowl lightly, a purely simple press of lips that he never even attempted to make anything more of, and then as though to prove his reputation Adam suddenly found himself devoid of his partner who was now laid back on his bed, visor off and one arm over his eyes, smile still well in place.
Adam blinked at him a couple of times before shaking his head and heading back into the kitchen. Five minutes later and he was handing Jazz a large mug of coffee, settling himself onto the bed as well. Jazz took the coffee gratefully, wrapping his hands around it as though to warm them up and taking a large swig. The sigh of sheer pleasure afterwards nearly made Adam question his control.
"There is nothin' greater than a fresh cup o' good coffee," said Jazz happily, golden eyes lidding slightly as he took another sip.
"Mmm," Adam agreed. "The hospital coffee is rather... lacking anything resembling coffee."
The African-American sniggered. "Yeh had some too?"
"Orion gave me some while we were waiting for you and Redding to come out of surgery. I needed it at the time, but... never again." Adam shuddered theatrically, and Jazz leaned up to guide his partner's cheek down to a reachable level for a quick kiss.
"M'brave knight, sacrificin' his tastebuds fer ma sake."
"You sacrificed far more," was out of Adam's mouth before he could stop it, and Jazz blinked before taking hold of his face and turning the older man to him, expression suddenly serious. Somehow his eyes were locked right onto Adam's even though he couldn't see them.
"I'd do it all again in a heartbeat," he said evenly, "if it meant yeh were safe. Puttin' Morgan away... it's made yeh all safe, 'n that's all I could ever ask fer."
Adam studied his partner for a moment, then sighed. "I know, Jazz. But I'm selfish when it comes to you. All I want is you, the rest of it..."
"No, Prowler, yeh'd be unhappy without yer work I know damn well yeh would."
"You make it worth it," growled back the brunette forcefully, bringing their faces closer. "After Kyle died, I survived day to day. Now... now I have something to truly live for, and that makes you priceless to me."
Jazz's answering smile was almost blinding, and he'd barely put his coffee mug down before closing the gap between himself and Adam, this time going for a much deeper, much more passionate kiss. Adam did nothing to stop his partner, instead reveling in the feeling of Jazz alive and well and happy, and the feeling of being loved.
Now there was something they were going to have to talk about, Adam mused, as he pushed the saboteur gently back onto the bed and broke their liplock reluctantly. But for now, he'd settle with just having his partner back in his arms whole, hale and healthy.
-x-
The problem with having two handsome twins from a dubious background round and about the clinic was that a lot of the patients got distracted either by the fact they were so handsome or that unqualified "ruffians" were hanging around. Yes, a lot of Ryan's patients were some of the top names in the world, and more than a few of them were elitist. Not that it bothered either of the twins; they took great delight in tormenting the patients they didn't like in increasingly creative ways, one of which involved a whole crate of duct tape under Percy's bench and several of Ryan's sharp surgical tools. Needless to say Ryan was not at all impressed and his client was even less so. The lecture the surgeon gave the twins about losing him business and many valued patients was loud and raging enough to be heard throughout most of the facility.
However despite their disdain for the general elitists and their holier-than-thou attitudes, Sidam and Sunny were both decent young men to have around. They very quickly learned the layout of Ryan's lab and where he kept all his tools, so if the doctor needed help with anything and Wade and Percy were busy (and they generally were, medicine in Ryan's area of expertise wasn't their strong point and they had deadlines and quotas of their own to reach) the twins were usually on hand to help out.
It didn't take long for Ryan to see what Jazz saw in the two hellions, the potential they both had, and God help him he'd managed to become attached to them since the saboteur gave them to him to look after. He enjoyed the quiet sketching sessions Sunny seemed fond of, the blond twin with no desire for chit-chat which gave Ryan the chance to catch up on anything that required his full attention; prescriptions, paperwork or just general inventory.
He also enjoyed - but he would never admit it and woe betide anyone who tried to tell him so - Sidam's spontaneous bouts of mischievousness, provided they didn't cause any irreparable harm or damage to his patients or his property. The twins were as different as night and day, and for some reason they both had decided during the Morgan Russell debacle to become Ryan's unofficial guardians and afterwards remain his protectors from anything and everything. As prestigious as he was Dr Chester had received quite a few threats, verbal, written and recorded alike. There wasn't a heck of a lot the twins could do about the last two, but any verbal confrontation and before Ryan could let loose one of his infamous tongue lashings the perpetrator would find themselves the focus of two very tall, very physically imposing young men with thunder in their faces.
Occasionally they did disappear for a few hours and come back with - dare he say it - pretty smug expressions, telling the doctor that he wouldn't be getting anymore abuse from some letter sender. Ryan wasn't sure how they found the guilty party and frankly wasn't sure he wanted to know. Not if it was Jazz who taught them anything.
As it was it disturbed Ryan slightly how easily both men had established themselves so firmly into his life, but in he wouldn't change it for the world.
Whatever the consequences, they were firmly entrenched in each other now. He wondered about himself if he kept up the trend of taking ex-criminals under his wing.
-x-
"We need to talk."
Adam had come into Jazz's bedroom where the saboteur was doing some more of his paperwork and documentation on his laptop in bed to hand him his medicines and something to down them with. The saboteur raised an elegant eyebrow at his partner, but dutifully took his pills and washed them down with a mouthful of the peppermint tea before replying.
"That phrase never bodes well."
"I mean about us," Adam said, seating himself next to Jazz. "About our position."
"What, at th'precint, yeh mean?"
"Yes." One of the Detective's hands came up to his hair and started wrapping the red strands around his fingers in a slightly nervous gesture. "You know we're breaking about six different regulations right now, yes?"
"As yer superior," replied Jazz, shrugging slightly, "I can honestly say I don' give a shit."
"They may give us new partners," said Adam in exasperation, swatting his lover lightly on the arm. "Be serious."
"I am." Jazz leaned back on the bed, setting the laptop down on his other side. He turned his face towards Adam smiling slightly. "T'b'honest, 'm kinda okay with that. Hear meh out," he added as Adam's eyes widened and he looked more than ready to protest. "We tell Orion, though 'm pretty sure he already knows. If he makes us separate, worst case is we get new partners. That don' mean we-" he indicated both of them with one hand, "-can't still b'." He grinned. "Jus' means I'll have t' get a little creative 'bout having us put on missions t'gether."
Adam stared at the African-American. "It took me over two years before I got you as my new partner. I can't go through that again."
"Yeh won't." Jazz shuffled over to Adam, taking both the Detective's hands in his, and Prowl admired the contrasting tones of their skin. They were beautiful together. "No matter what happens," he continued, making Adam look back up at Jazz's face, earnest, nervous and stunning, "I ain't givin' yeh up. Not fer anythin'. Not fer Morgan, not fer Orion 'n not fer m'job."
"Jazzy-"
"No." The dreadlocked man shook his head slightly. "I'd give it all up in a heartbeat. I love ya, that's all there is t' say."
Two sides of Prowl were at war over this; on the one hand the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of Jazz's loss, of his job and his dreams. Adam didn't want Jazz to give anything up for him, he wanted the saboteur to keep doing what he loved, keep on being where he was needed. But on the other hand Prowl was selfish, wanting to keep his partner with him at all times to make sure he would be safe and healthy, to make sure the world could never touch Jasper Miles ever again.
Eventually, Adam nodded slowly. "I want whatever makes you happy," he said slowly, softly. "Whatever that might be, I don't care."
"Good." Jazz shifted himself until he was straddling the Detective's lap. "Because yer what makes meh happy, 'n fuck everythin' else." A soft pair of lips met Adam's, a simple press that was more of a ghost than an actual kiss. The Detective whined slightly at the care, love and determination that Jazz radiated, all for him. Adam couldn't honestly remember that he'd ever felt loved this strongly, and it scared him slightly.
Jazz had given Prowl everything; he had told all about his past, confessions that, had they been told to anyone else, would have likely landed him in jail, lost him his job, his livelihood, his second chance and a wonderful friendship. He had taken a massive risk, and Adam was determined that the risk not been in vain.
Having said that it wasn't like the saboteur's feelings weren't returned. Adam had never been good with emotions, preferring to keep his cards close to his chest. They were easier to control that way. But Jazz seemed to have the uncanny ability to bring all of them to the surface, and as a result Adam had shown Jazz everything. The African-American now held all that Prowl was in his hands, and it was his to do with as he would. And it was that knowledge which scared Adam, he had never let anyone close enough for that before.
And yet, in Jazz's arms like this he felt impossibly, wonderfully safe, like the world couldn't touch him. He hoped Jazz felt the same with him, because he really wanted the saboteur to know exactly how he made the older man feel.
Being in love was an amazing thing, Adam decided as he held Jazz to him carefully.
-x-
The next port of call a couple of days after returning from hospital for the Lieutenant was Ryan's. The visor holder on his left side was still damaged and needed fixing or replacing, and it was a little disconcerting wandering around with only one "eye" working, as it were. As a result Jazz had taken to not using his visor unless it was absolutely necessary, falling back onto his text-to-speech software and intimate knowledge of his own home.
Ryan of course berated him for waiting so long after being released from hospital to come to the surgery, and Jazz simply rolled his eyes before hauling himself up onto one of the waiting beds for an examination. Wade came in and joined them when Ryan took what remained of the holder's cover off so they could examine the internals together.
After about twenty minutes of poking, prodding, soldering and arguments, eventually they both agreed that there was no way to fix the current holder and it would need to be replaced. That meant more surgery for Jazz, though thankfully this time it wasn't a life or death thing. The saboteur resigned himself to the anaesthetic, needling the scientist and the medic mercilessly until he succumbed that they were only doing this to get back at him and he didn't really need the whole shebang replaced.
Adam requested to sit in on the surgery, half of him unwilling to let Jazz out of his sights even for a moment and the other half thoroughly curious as to the whole procedure. Ryan eyed him for a moment before agreeing, but only after he made the Detective go through decontamination and put on a clean pair of scrubs, then drilling into him that he was to touch nothing while inside the operating theater. Ryan and Wade would both be going into Jazz's head, quite literally, and it was a very delicate operation. Adam agreed without hesitation; anything to keep Jazz safe was okay by him.
As the Detective watched he was simultaneously fascinated by the technology enabling his partner's vision and repulsed by just how much of it was actually inside Jazz's head. According to Ryan, Jazz's eyes were the only parts of him that weren't working, destroyed as a teenager by retinitis pigmentosa. The rest of it - the optic nerve, occipital lobe and visual cortex - all functioned perfectly well, there was just no input for any of it to process.
Which is where the visor and holders came in. The holders either side of Jazz's head provided a direct pathway to the optic nerve, much like the eye itself. It translated everything the visor saw into a form the brain could understand, which was then passed down through the optic nerve and into the relevant processing areas.
Overall it was a marvel of engineering, but as Wade mentioned it was far from being able to be made available to the blind or partially-sighted. It was still very much in the developmental and experimental stage, and Jazz at the time had nothing left to lose by become one of the first human trial subjects. Thankfully most of the problems that cropped up from time to time in simulations had yet to appear with Jazz, but the African-American had had his fair share of issues. The first implant had sent Jazz wandering around for two days with vision that randomly fluctuated on and off, and the implant after that shorted itself out in the holder. The saboteur had been incredibly lucky that the short had stayed within the holder, as it could have caused untold damage had it reached the optic nerve or visual cortex.
So far Jazz's current holders seemed to be the most stable, but as Ryan threw over at Wade there was still a chance the entire set-up could explode at any given moment. The scientist had kicked the surgeon for his jibe (after making sure he wasn't actually doing anything in Jazz's head; he wasn't that stupid no matter what Percy said), but it simply caused Ryan to cackle evilly and go back to his work.
They were done around three hours later, snapping the last pieces of the holder into place. Ryan pressed a box of codeine into Adam's hands as they wheeled Jazz out of the operating theater, saying he would probably need them over the next couple of days as the surgeries always left the African-American with immense headaches. He'd also be very light sensitive and potentially disorientated. The codeine helped, but it didn't get rid of everything so Jazz would be suffering for a few more days yet.
It wasn't exactly what Prowl wanted to hear, although Jazz had gone through this a few times before so he was likely used to it, however unpleasant it was. Looked like he was going to be nursing his partner a while longer yet.
As predicted Jazz came to with a massive migraine, a low whimper and clutching at his head the only outward indications of his discomfort. Ryan refused to give him longer under the anaesthetic; as far as the surgeon was concerned it would only make the headache worse the more he did it, so the saboteur had better get used to it fast. A new visor found its way into Adam's hands as well, since Jazz's original visor had been shattered and he was currently using his only spare.
The Detective stayed with his partner in one of Ryan's recovery wards, and spent the rest of the day in bed with a young man who refused to move an inch from his position draped all over Adam's stomach, so Adam had simply picked up one of the books by the bedside and settled down for an afternoon of reading while Jazz slept off his headache.
-x-
Whatever Adam McCallen had expected, three weeks later when he came into work one Tuesday morning, it wasn't this. Dana greeting him at the lobby, Heath waving at him from where he was grabbing a coffee in the common room, Simon and Skylar debating something that seemed utterly riveting just outside Simon's office, Orion on the phone to someone highly irritating judging by his expression, sure. He expected all of those.
What he hadn't was for his partner Jasper Miles, who should have been at home resting, to come dancing down the corridor from around the corner - their office space - with an iPod in one hand and a pair of bright pink earbuds trailing from either side of his head.
Literally dancing.
And singing Whitney Houston rather loudly, but very well. How he was even moving with his stitches Adam didn't know; maybe he'd taken a little too much of his codeine. Either way he wasn't supposed to be here for another couple of weeks yet, and Adam was pretty sure "light duty" didn't involve anything Jazz was currently doing with his body. Even if it was kind of sexy to watch.
Okay okay, very sexy. Prowl then promptly told that part of his brain to shut the frag up.
Point is, he wasn't supposed to be here, so Adam started towards him intending to meet him halfway. Jazz spotted him and sent him a cheeky little grin before ducking into the common room just as he started on the chorus. He deliberately raised his voice as Adam drew closer, shimmying around Heath who looked more than a little amused at the whole thing.
"Oh I wanna dance with somebody," sang Jazz, drawing Byron from his seat at one of the tables and making him stand up to dance with the saboteur, "with somebody who loves me."
Byron snickered, obliging his friend and starting to sway. "Pretty sure ya singin' that to the wrong person, dude."
Jazz snorted, moving on to try and coax Heath into joining in. "He's standin' at th'door. He knows who I'm singin' to."
Heath clutched his coffee, laughing slightly as the Lieutenant gave him the biggest pair of puppy eyes. "Are you sure you should be doing this? I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be on bedrest duty, not disco duty."
Jazz shrugged, spinning away with a mad grin as Raji rolled his eyes and got up to start moving with Byron from where he'd been sat at one of the tables. "'M goin' mad stuck in bed all day, man. I need t'do somethin' t'keep mehself entertained!"
"And this is restful entertainment for you, is it?" Adam finally piped up, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
"Nope," was the cheery reply. The dreadlocked man unhooked himself from his iPod and plugged it in instead to the speakers next to the kettle, letting Whitney properly loose in the common room. "This is what I call a cure fer sheer boredom." He pranced back up to Adam and tugged on a sleeve. "C'mon, Prowler, come dance with meh!"
"Thanks, no."
"Spoilsport." Jazz blew a raspberry at the older man, and Adam let out an exasperated sigh as he remembered just how immature his partner could be.
"Jazz, you're hardly in any condition to be-"
"Adam," Jazz interrupted, suddenly looking perfectly serious and, somehow, straight into Adam's eyes, "'m fine. Trust meh, I'd b' th'first t' stop mehself if it got too much. This ain't doin' anythin' but makin' meh feel a load better." Adam blinked, and Jazz was abruptly back to his mile wide grin. "Now, yeh sure yer not joinin' in?"
Adam stepped aside to allow Dana, Ben, Skylar and Simon through to join the dance-off that was now happening a few feet away between Byron and Raji, Heath laughingly caught in the middle. "No, thank you Jazz. I'm fine."
"Eh, yer loss."
-x-
Adam let his partner Orion's office first, and he bounded in to immediately seat himself down onto one of the nearest chairs. The Detective closed the door and went to stand next to where Jazz was sat, blue eyes watching the commanding officer steadfastly. Orion stared right back unwaveringly.
"I trust you both know why you're here," he rumbled quietly. Adam nodded tersely, and Jazz simply tilted his head, visor brightening slightly.
"I know how your relationship has changed recently, and before I say anything I need to know something." Orion leaned forward on his desk and steepled his fingers. "Will this affect your work?"
Adam immediately replied, "no," while Jazz simultaneously said, "yes,". The brunette shot the saboteur an annoyed look, and Jazz raised his hands at him.
"Hey, 'm gonna b' as truthful as possible. Yeah, it's gonna affect mah work, but I can deal with it." Jazz turned a golden gaze on the Commissioner. "I took mah role in Operation Kaon because I knew what it would mean fer this precinct, fer Detroit PD. But it took meh away from Adam, right when he needed meh. I had a decision t'make, 'n it ain't one I made lightly."
Adam looked curiously at his partner. "What made you so sure-"
"Orion didn't tell meh much when I joined," Jazz interrupted softly, "jus' that yeh'd closed yerself off from everyone 'n he needed meh t'break past yer barriers. So that's what I did, 'n what I found was worth more t'meh than anythin'." Jazz reached up and Adam touched his hand lightly, almost hesitantly. "So yeah," he added, directing his next words at Orion, "it's gonna affect mah work, but only so far as I got a different reason than most as t'why I do m'job. I can't put mah feelin's aside, but I can override 'em."
Orion's steady gaze held Jazz's for a moment longer, then looked up at Adam instead. "And you, Detective McCallen?"
"I..." Adam seemed a little lost for words for once, glancing between his partner and his superior. He knew Orion had assigned him a new partner because he had needed one, but he didn't realize the whole set-up had been entirely for the Detective's benefit. He clicked suddenly that the Commissioner had deliberately picked out Jazz because of who he was, the personality he had. So similar to Kyle with an easy-going attitude and sense of adventure, yet so different with a mischievous streak a mile long, the most annoying habit of getting under one's skin and a history most would never touch him for.
All of it had accumulated into more feelings than Adam had ever been used to. He'd never fallen in love before - his previous girlfriend had never ever evoked the reactions and emotions Jazz brought out in him, so maybe he had been but it was never this strong - so sending the Lieutenant into undercover work like that with little warning had taken all his control not to turn the station upside-down in protest. He couldn't lose another partner.
But, he mused as he thought about it more, it was those very feelings for Jazz that drove him to find the best solutions, the fastest way around everything, pushed him to see his partner safe and sound. It had made him better, more efficient, and he couldn't deny that his work, too, would be affected.
"Lieutenant Miles is right," Adam said eventually, tightening his hold on Jazz's fingers. "It will affect my work, it already has. But it made me better. I don't think I've ever been as efficient as I was while Jazz was undercover." He spared the African-American under his palm a caring glance, and while Jazz never saw it his lips turned upwards slightly. "I am better with him," Prowl concluded simply.
The Commissioner was silent for a moment, looking between the both of them. Adam and Kyle had been well-known and well-liked in the 27th, with one of the highest arrest records of any partnership. They were renowned for their bickering over the silliest, smallest details, anything from a discrepancy in a witness testimony to (only once) the color of the staplers on Kyle's desk. Apparently Prowl didn't mind that Kyle had a dozen staplers for whatever unknown reason, but drew the line at having every one of them either a bright lime green or a fluorescent pink. Kyle was more the 'but why' or 'but why not' kind of arguer, which Orion knew drove Adam right up the wall and back down the other side.
Kyle was also the one who came up with Prowl's nickname. 'The Prowler' was something he'd overheard one of the rookies say, and when questioned the rookie admitted that pretty much the entire station called Adam that behind his back. Kyle had mused on the information, and eventually managed to get it shortened around the precinct to 'Prowl'.
Adam hadn't been particularly impressed, but he lived with it.
Now it was Prowl and Jazz who were the new partners on the block, and hell if they hadn't made a first impression. There was no denying they worked well together, and everything that made them both great policemen became much more apparent when they were parted.
Orion couldn't destroy a partnership like the one in front of him now, but he knew the consequences if they ever let it get away from them. He heaved a sigh, eventually speaking up.
"I'm not going to separate you two," he began, and almost chuckled to see nearly all the tension in Adam's frame drain away, "not when I put in the effort to ensure the two of you ended up as partners. Not when I know I'll get hell if I tried."
Jazz gave his commanding officer an expression that was the picture of confused innocence, but Orion wasn't fooled. Jazz was crafty, above all else that much he'd learned. "However, I will say this. If either of you put each other before the job, it won't be my decision to make regarding keeping the both of you together. Keep it professional at work, put your personal feelings aside while on the job and please don't traumatize any of the others."
At that Jazz just laughed, a pleased and satisfied sound, and Adam's palm abruptly made friends with his face as it lit up in a flush.
"Aww, sir, yer ruinin' all mah fun!" the saboteur protested, still laughing. Orion couldn't help joining in slightly, both because Jazz's giggles were infectious and seeing Adam embarrassed was pretty entertaining.
"Is that all, sir?" Adam asked, trying to hide his still-red cheeks.
"Yes Detective McCallen," replied Orion, chuckles subsiding. "That's all for now. Dismissed."
The two men made their way to the door, Prowl elbowing Jazz in the side rather obviously. That only made the saboteur's grin widen. Right as they were leaving though Jazz snapped his fingers as he realized something and leaned back into Orion's office.
"Oh, by th'way, congrats sir! Byron told meh, I hear she's a bit o' a firecracker."
It took a moment to realize what Jazz was talking about, but when he did Orion smirked slightly. "Indeed she is, thank you Jazz. You better be careful around her, she has ways of making incorrigible younglings like yourself toe the line."
"Oh now sir, yer jus' makin' that sound like a promise." Jazz's visor lit up in amusement. "Can't wait t'meet her properly."
"Get out," Orion half-growled, tossing a pen at the Lieutenant who cackled and dodged it, vanishing out of the office. The Commissioner sat back in his chair and sighed, tilting his head at the ceiling and closing his eyes. His was going to be a very interesting precinct from now on, and for the second time he started to wonder about the sanity of this place.
-x-
To make sure Jazz didn't overwork himself while he was still recovering Orion made him take a few days off in between his on-duty days. He did it with most of his men, though he was having trouble convincing Alex to take any time off. The security director was convinced some huge catastrophe would be fall the precinct if he left it for any amount of time. The fact he'd been out of commission for so long in the hospital was unspeakably irresponsible, and he needed to keep an eye on Jasper.
Or, so he said. Jazz had become somewhat adept at avoiding Alex, which was driving him absolutely nuts.
Redding would have been blowing his top something chronic if he realized what Jazz was doing just now. He wasn't sure even Adam would approve, so the saboteur hadn't told his partner what he was doing or where he was going. A quick stop at the mall with a small wad of cash was his first port of call, then his Porsche pulled up outside a large apartment complex about fifteen minutes later.
He made his way upstairs, passing a few of the other residents either coming or going whom he greeted amiably, until he reached the floor he wanted. One of his men was standing guard a little ways down the corridor, and snapped off a short salute when Jazz approached.
"Lieutenant Miles."
"S'alright, I jus' need t'talk t' Thane."
The guard nodded and Jazz knocked on the door to Thane's safehouse. It was opened cautiously by another one of Jazz's men, and the dreadlocked man greeted him and grinned slightly as the guard seemed to deflate that it wasn't anyone or anything exciting but still saluted regardless.
"Sir."
Jazz waved a hand at the guard, shooing him towards the door. "Both o' yeh, scram. Go grab a sandwich or sommat." His gaze turned towards Thane. "We need t'talk."
"But sir-"
The saboteur cut the guard off with a look, and reluctantly he left the room to grab his partner.
"Give us half an hour," he called after them, receiving a "yessir" in response. Once the both of them were gone Jazz locked the door behind him and then leaned against it, tossing the keys in one hand. "So…"
Thane eyed him for a minute before going back to what he had apparently been doing before Jazz showed up, preparing a couple of cups for coffee.
"I hope you don't care what this comes out like. It's not the best coffee ever," the assault specialist said bluntly.
Jazz raised an eyebrow, tapping the floor with one of his feet. "Anythin's better than hospital coffee." He caught the keys in one hand in a rather dramatic gesture, but stayed at the door. "'M not here t' tell yeh off, though I think Orion would probably want that."
"Like I give a fuck if either of you want to do that." The look Thane gave the saboteur was flat and unimpressed, and Jazz had to swallow a laugh. It really wouldn't make a difference if the dreadlocked man decided to go through with the dressing down, he knew Thane would do it again in a heartbeat. Instead Jazz matched the unimpressed look, choosing that moment to stride forward and level himself with the assault specialist. Golden eyes narrowed deliberately.
"Listen, Thane, 'm in charge o' yer protection while this whole thing's goin' on. I honestly don' care that yeh went t' see Heath, I'd've done th'same thing in yer shoes. What I don' like is yeh not recognizin' when yeh have an ally. Ya shoulda told meh where ya were goin' so I, at least, knew where yeh were." The African-American stepped back, folding his arms over his chest. "I know it ain't easy, but ya gotta trust meh a little more 'n that."
Thane paused noticeably for a moment before continuing with the coffees almost robotically. "Did you really expect me to ask for help? I don't think you know me well enough to make that call and I went to see Heath… it's complicated and private."
Jazz shifted in his seat, visor catching the light as he studied the assault specialist. The entire time the saboteur had been undercover Thane was the person he had observed the most. Him and his trinemates had been up to something, and when Warren spilled their plan in the elevator Jazz had kept an even sharper eye on them. He'd seen a lot of himself in all three men, but it was Thane in particular with whom Jazz seemed to share the most. Neither of them were good men. Maybe now they were starting to make up for it, but they both still had a long way to go. The attitude, the lack of trust, the constant ingrained anger at the general world around them and the awkwardness was everything the dreadlocked man had been and more, so he knew Thane better than the older man thought.
"Yes," Jazz said simply. "I do." He dug into his pockets, and then a few seconds later there was a small mobile phone on the counter top. Nothing fancy and obviously a burner, but a phone nonetheless. He pushed it towards Thane, and the older man stared at it for a long moment before shoving one of the coffees at Jazz across the counter.
"I'm not going again. You don't need to worry about that now."
"Maybe not, but trust meh," Jazz tapped a finger to his temple, fingernails catching the metal of his holder, "yeh'll at least want t'talk t'him. Yeh can't do this without him."
Thane's fingers turned white as he gripped his own mug a little tighter. "Don't remind me. It…" There was a pause, and then Thane's head turned to Jazz abruptly with slightly widened eyes. "How do you know?"
The saboteur couldn't help but grin at that. "Oh please, yer both 'bout as subtle as bein' bashed by a barn door. 'M observant, I see things." He tilted his head, allowing his dreads to spill over one shoulder before tucking one of his hands into them. "Look, Thane, yeh gotta realize, 'm on yer side. Whatever yeh choose t' do, whatever yeh 'n Heath want, 'm behind ya. It'd b' real hypocritical o' meh not t', fer starters."
"Nothing had happened the last time you saw us so…" The assault specialist's head shook. "It's not the same for you and McCallen and you know it. I could end Heath's career just by going anywhere near him and I'd never forgive myself if I did but at the same time…" He turned and walked away from the kitchenette, stopping at one of the windows and staring out of it absently, mug between both hands that looked like he was hanging onto it for his life.
"I know." Jazz leaned against the counter, propping himself up on his elbows. "Believe meh, I know. One toe outta line from either o' us, and one or both o' us lose our jobs. That follows us around so th'rest o' the career track's out." He shook his head. "Jus'... I understand, I know, 'n yeh gotta trust meh more. I trusted yeh gettin' us outta Morgan's hole, all 'm askin' is fer a little back." The saboteur righted himself, picking up his own coffee. "His number's th'only in the th'phone."
"Wouldn't need it anyway." Thane shifted slightly, his back turned to Jazz. It was an unconscious gesture that Jazz recognized. He was still wary about giving the saboteur his full trust, but he held enough certainty that nothing would happen to be able to turn his back on Jazz. He never would have before, and the saboteur appreciated the knowledge.
"I'll use the phone and I won't slip out again." There was a moment of silence before Thane turned his head to see Jazz. "All I ask is that you watch out for him and you let me see Spencer and Warren before the trial. We have things we need to talk about."
The African-American inclined his head, visor dimming slightly. An easy enough request to fulfill, especially as Heath was already being monitored. Jazz didn't trust for one second that Morgan wouldn't try something. "Consider it done. Yer both under mah protection, I ain't lettin' anythin' happening t' either o' yeh. Yer trinemates have their new identities, but it won't b'hard t'arrange a meetin'."
"Good. Don't tell them. Warren can't keep a secret to save his ass." Thane nodded before sighing. "Thank you. I can't promise you my trust Jazz, not now. Maybe in the future but right now I'm too tired of all of this to try to break any habits of a lifetime."
Jazz snorted inelegantly. "I hear that." He stretched his arms above his head, feeling his back pop in a very satisfying way, then wrapped both hands around his coffee mug. "At least lemme know next time yeh plan an excursion, yer lucky I managed t' avoid a manhunt last time." Sipping from his mug, he managed a small snigger. "Though I guess it woulda broken th'monotony o' paperwork…"
"No more excursions. I won't be breaking up the paperwork." Thane's smirk told Jazz exactly what he thought about that arrangement. "And I'm glad it didn't because I'm not ready to share Heath with the world yet."
Jazz chuckled, following it with a noncommittal noise and settling back onto one of the stools around the kitchen counter to wait for the guards to get back. They had another good twenty minutes yet, assuming they kept to Jazz's half-hour break order. "Th' world can wait, man. Yeh got sommat good, hang on t' it."
"I know. He's mad, he shouldn't be with someone like me but he keeps letting me stay…" Thane's shoulders rose and fell, before his gaze was drawn into his coffee mug.
"So does Adam," Jazz eyed the assault specialist, visor brightening. "Mayb' we jus' attract th'mad ones."
The older man was just taking a swig of his drink, and the loud snort of amusement nearly had him spraying it everywhere. "That would explain so much. Detectives Mad and Madder."
"God that sounds like a bad sitcom, or romcom," Jazz laughed. "Th' Madness Twins. That'll b' their new nicknames round th'precinct."
"I've met the Twins, we don't need anymore and I hate romcoms, so I say we'll be forced to keep them a little bit sane to save them from that fate."
"Oh, I think we might enjoy that," the saboteur remarked, hiding his smirk behind another swig of coffee. He sensed more than saw Thane's slightly cheered up demeanor, and resolved to come back again when he had the free time. The assault specialist needed someone who knew his situation and understood how hard all of this was on him, and who had his back. Heath and Thane had been friends for a couple of years now, who was he to deprive them of something that could only make them stronger? Frankly Jazz wasn't sure Thane would ever be able to stick to the rules of his new identity and leave everything behind, and if that was the case then they were going to have to think of something else for Thane otherwise he would end up in jail. Exactly from where the saboteur was trying to keep him away.
The rest of Jazz's visit was spent with another mug of coffee and a contemplative silence for both parties, Thane likely caught up in thoughts of the trial, his trinemates and Heath, and Jazz plotting for every scenario he could think of come the end of Morgan's trial and conviction.
Perhaps he should speak to Orion. That might give him some ideas.
-x-
"You shouldn't have done that," Adam said from the kitchen doorway, startling Jazz when the dreadlocked man entered his apartment. The saboteur blinked at him before folding his hands behind his back and tilting his head, a picture of innocence that didn't fool Prowl for a second.
"Done what, man?"
"Oh don't give me that," Adam retorted, pushing himself off the doorframe to walk up to his partner, "you know Thane can't have contact with anyone, let alone Heath."
"They need each other," said Jazz honestly. "Would yeh b'able t'do sommat like this without meh? I couldn't do it without yeh, that much I do know." He wend his way to the brunette slowly. "All this will b' fer nothin' if they don' have th'freedom t'choose. We fight t'free Mitchell, 'n then what? Take away his freedom again? I ain't standin' fer it."
Prowl studied Jazz for a moment, then sighed and smiled slightly. "Of course not. I would expect nothing less from you."
"It's a burner phone, can't b'traced. I trust Thane t'b'discreet." Jazz unhooked his visor, and it dimmed rapidly in his hand as he cast his eyes to one side. "All a person needs, sometimes, is a second chance. I should know that better than anyone."
"I suppose so." Adam held out a hand and walked towards Jazz, taking his partner's hand when he reached him. Dark fingers closed around the pale ones already in place, and a small smile lit up full lips.
"Shoulda known yeh got mah back."
"Always, Jazzy." Prowl tightened his hold, and Jasper leaned into the warmth of his partner, closing golden eyes. His visor dropped to the floor in an uncaring gesture, and Adam automatically brought a hand up to touch at the holder secured onto Jazz's left temple, as though to reassure himself that it was still there and still whole. The surgery, fascinating as it had been, had rattled Adam slightly. There was a lot of tech in Jazz's head, experimental and potentially dangerous tech. That was so easily forgotten because Jazz just made it so easy.
His exuberant personality, intense aura and undeniable charm caused people to give no more than a passing query about his visor and blindness before forgetting all about it, a skill likely honed and perfected to avoid the inevitable onslaught of questions he had to put up with when he first had the visor fitted.
The holders prettied up what was otherwise a rather grim reality; two holes in the side of the head leading straight to the optic nerves was not exactly the greatest thing to be wandering around with. Luckily Ryan Chester was the best in the field, and aside from being completely sealed off and kept perfectly sterile the holders were very advanced and quite discreet so when the visor wasn't in the African-American's dreads all but covered them.
Not that it ever bothered Adam. All of it - Jazz's laid-back personality, his blindness, his tendencies to be anything but by-the-book, his love of music, his cheeky smiles, the risk-for-reward way of working, his dramatic past and his determination - simply shaped the African-American into the man he was today, and Adam wouldn't change any of it for the world.
Prowl rested his head on top of his partner's, closed his eyes and wondered if Kyle would be happy with his new partner and proud of him for opening up once more. Wherever he was, the Detective was certain Kyle was watching over them.
-x-
Recovery was slow for everyone; not only were the ones who were injured in the raid having a fun time wrapped up in bed at home going out of their minds from boredom (last time anyone had heard Jazz was driving both his neighbors and Adam crazy with the weirdest music and TV he could possibly find as loud as he possibly could, and Alex was threatening to quit if he wasn't let back to work this instant), but the fallout from the whole fiasco at Morgan's operations base had sent ripples through every law agency operating not only out of Detroit but everywhere else that Morgan had had his dirty little fingers. The paperwork and evidence collation were Mt Everests all by themselves, but put together with the interviews, trial preparations, fielding other agencies who wanted to muscle in, legal obligations for the officers involved, operation justifications and a whole host of other equally lovely and time-consuming jobs meant Mt Everest turned into a mountain that would probably reach Saturn and back.
As it turned out, Jazz wasn't needed, per say, for the trial, despite being the biggest player involved in taking Morgan down. However the defense had insisted so strongly that he be brought to the witness stand that in the end, the saboteur had to go. He wasn't looking forward to it in the slightest; he just knew they were going to bring up his past and try to discredit most of the prosecution's case. Luckily Jazz's actual identity as the original Foxtrot had been kept under wraps, so the most anyone outside the 27th knew Jazz had been part of the Los Angeles Aces and that was it.
That wasn't going to stop Morgan bringing it up, but without any recorded proof or witnesses willing to come forward the accusation would be dead in the water before it began. Foxtrot had simply been a cover of convenience.
As it was, the day Jazz was called to the stand was the first time any of the 27th precinct had seen the young man in a proper suit. Normally he opted for smart casual; suitably professional but loose and comfortable enough to actually do his job. The full-on suit look was another ball game entirely, and it had taken Adam a good few moments to pull himself together sufficiently to brief his partner on the trial and what would be expected of him instead of drooling, much to Byron's amusement, Orion's exasperation and Alex's consternation. Jazz had been through courts before - his rank of Lieutenant came with responsibilities, after all - but never for as high a profile case as this one. He couldn't afford any mistakes.
Luckily Jazz had nothing if not a silver tongue.
"And tell us, Lieutenant Miles," Niall Spinner asked, his sweet tone barely covering his contemptuous attitude, "what did you do before you joined the police?"
"Gang runner," Jazz replied instantly. "Wrong side o'th'tracks, is all."
"No affiliation with Foxtrot at all?"
"Only that I ran with th'same gang," the Lieutenant shrugged. "Kid was off th'rails, 'n frankly scared th'hell outta meh. Usin' his name was logical 'n convenient."
"Logical and convenient." Spinner didn't sound at all convinced, his tone suggesting exactly what he thought of the Lieutenant. "So you expect us to believe you didn't enjoy a single minute of your work? That what you did was purely for 'taking my client down', as you so eloquently put it?"
"Well, I wouldn't say that," Jazz began, tapping at his chin thoughtfully. "I enjoyed some parts o' it, but honestly? There's only so many times yeh can cause a fight between White 'n Russell, or put superglue on Shiv's keyboards b'fore it gets old." There was a light wave of sniggers through the courtroom at that.
"You haven't answered my second question," retorted Spinner. "I'm inclined to think you miss being in a gang, that doing what you did was simply a way to get back into the life. Who's to say you won't stay there?"
"Miss mah gang?" Jazz stared at the defense attorney for a moment in disbelief. "Okay, lemme lay out a scenario fer yeh. Yeh wake up in th'mornin', 'n th'first thing yeh do is strap around three or four guns t'yerself. That's, o'course, assumin' yeh woke up at all. If yer not fast enough yeh get dragged unceremoniously by a buncha badass bastards who won't think twice 'bout puttin' a bullet in yer brain. Then yer put t'work, sommat different every day. Recruitment, drug dealin', pimpin', shakin' down th'girls for what they owed us, sellin' guns. Yeh name it, we did it. Then yeh got th'gang fights, 'n suddenly yer in a shoot-out with another posse who yeh ain't got a problem with personally but b'cause yer gang does yer expected t'die fer 'em if necessary. 'N far too many did." The saboteur fixed Spinner with a level, empty gaze. "Oh yeah, I totally missed what I did while with th'Aces, drug-dealin' 'n forcin' kids t'work fer us was th'best kind o' life."
Niall Spinner made a low humming noise, the kind that said that you're going to agree anyway despite the fact you think the person in front of you is spouting utter bullshit. He turned on his heel and faced the rest of the courtroom, but still spoke to Jazz.
"And the 27th? Taking on a gangbanger like yourself? What kind of people would they be?"
"Yeh'd have t'talk t' Philly PD first," Jazz replied, unruffled. "They got meh b'fore Commissioner Arkham ever saw mah files. As fer th'27th themselves…" The dreadlocked man trailed off, thinking for a few seconds. "Well, so far I've only been with 'em a month 'n a bit, 'n a month o' that was undercover. I've not really been around long enough t'form an opinion yet."
The questions continued along the same vein for several more minutes, Spinner trying his best to put doubt in the jury's mind and try to discredit Jazz as a witness and reliable officer to have in the field. It was eventually stopped when the prosecution, a sturdy middle-aged man by the name of Nick Bentham, objected to the line of questioning, citing its relevance to the proceedings at hand. The judge agreed, ending the defense's queries.
As it was Jazz hadn't been tripped up, not even when Spinner tried attacking Adam and Adam only, attempting to get a rise out of the saboteur. Whether fortunately or not, Jazz had already endured a month of Morgan, Shiv, Spencer, Thane and Warren all at each others' throats and dragging him into the middle, not to mention Rumble and Frenzy's constant attempts to at least maim him and Samuel's apparent utter disdain for him and his work, so Spinner was a breath of fresh air. Certainly nothing the dreadlocked man hadn't heard before, and it only seemed to frustrate the defense attorney. Bentham simply watched the whole facade unravel in amusement until it was his turn to question Jazz.
Once Bentham had the floor his questions turned Spinner's discrediting attempts into focus on the work Jazz had done during his career in the Force, how he had got out of his life with the Aces, making Lieutenant by the age of 26, what he'd done as a sniper and what missions he'd been on, any undercover work he had done previously. Nick highlighted the reports from Philly, most of them excellent with the odd 'didn't follow orders but situation turned out better because of it' comments dotted in among.
Street instincts, Nick Bentham pressed, could be vital to the police force, and Jazz appeared to have it in spades.
"They say," Bentham said loudly, "that a cop remembers not only the face of everyone they've killed, but everyone they've saved. I think Lieutenant Miles may have trouble with the second part as I'm not sure anyone realizes the number of people he saved that day." The lawyer turned to face Jasper. "Tell us what happened after you escaped your hostage situation, thanks to your two informants."
"I ran back t'th'barricade, followed mah partner's voice. Got shot twice on th'way there," Jazz replied, unconsciously touching the still-healing wounds. It would easily be another four or five months yet before they were properly healed.
"And yet you managed to get to safety, despite having been shot not just once, but twice, and completely blind." Nick paused briefly. "Any idea who shot you?"
"No." The saboteur ducked his head slightly. "At firs' I didn't even realize I'd been shot, I thought it was debris."
"And even after you'd been shot, you persisted with not only with carrying out your assignment but succeeding in it as well, nearly losing your life in the process."
Jazz smiled slightly then. "I think that's th' nicest way someone's ever told meh 'm a stubborn bastard," he said, to another round of nervous titters. Nick chuckled obligingly.
"That, Lieutenant, is what I would class as dedication, above and beyond the call of duty. You could have been medivaced out at any point, but you chose to stay and defend your co-workers despite your injuries."
"Th'Force is, first 'n foremost, yer family," was Jazz's only reply.
Bentham didn't keep Jazz much longer, and at the end of it both lawyers presented their end-session speeches to the jury and the galleries. Afterwards Jazz was allowed off the witness stand, where Adam met him outside. The brunette had been in the gallery as silent support, and while Jazz had not looked at his partner once Adam knew he knew he was there. Neither of them went for anything more than a professional air while still inside the courthouse, unwilling to give the defense anything more to run with, but Jazz appreciated the back-up.
That didn't stop Adam ravaging his partner (carefully, of course) when they got back to the dreadlocked man's apartment. Jazz made a mental note that Prowl apparently had a suit kink, right before all his mental functions went offline and all that was left was Prowl, mine, guh.
-x-
Alex's promise to keep an eye on Jazz was apparently not made in vain. During the trial and their recovery period Redding made it a point to find out exactly where Jazz was and what he was doing at any given time. It made the saboteur a little bit antsy, but also challenged him to keep himself out of the security officer's admittedly pinpoint accurate radar, and Jazz had to concede he hadn't been tested like this in a long while.
So instead of letting the annoyance at the constant surveillance get to him too much the dreadlocked man tried to turn it around instead, avoiding Alex at every opportunity possible. Poor Orion ended up caught in the middle of an extremely irate security director convinced that Jazz was going back to his old ways and a mischievous Lieutenant who was getting very good at being a ghost. He tried his best to keep the two of them in line, but reason only got so far with Alex when he was in full-blown paranoid mode and Jazz was having far too much fun to think about listening much.
Luckily Orion had back up. As good as Jazz was getting at avoiding Redding Adam was getting better at reining his partner in, and Fire Chief Ivan Ferrow seemed intent on making Alex as much a part of the liaison between their stations as he could, which seemed to mollify the security director pretty well.
As it was, eventually the scrutiny got too much for Jazz, and even with his skills at avoiding it all honed he ended up dragging Redding into Orion's office to have a heart to heart and request that the stalking stop. Immediately. The saboteur just had to add an 'or else' on the end of it too to wind Alex up, and ended up laughing his ass off at the resultant explosion of paranoia. When they calmed down enough the Lieutenant reminded Alex that actually, he was of a higher rank (so there), and the 'or else' was the threat of a day of non-stop pranks.
That didn't do anything to assuage the security director, so instead Orion suggested the compromise that Alex would stop the out-of-work surveillance right away if Jazz stopped avoiding it at work. The saboteur agreed easily but Alex took a little longer to be convinced that Jazz wouldn't be going anywhere unorthodox or doing anything bad on his off hours. In the end it was the suggestion that he didn't trust Adam or Ryan, the two men to see the most of Jazz at that moment, that made up his mind.
Afterwards Jazz ended up in a deep discussion with Alex over the flaws he'd discovered in the security director's web, how he'd managed to avoid him for so long and with such apparent ease, and the evolved into back-and-forths on how to go about fixing the exploits without exposing other parts of security.
By the end of it Alex Redding thought Jasper Miles might actually be useful for something other than constant migraines.
-x-
"Jazz? What are you doing?"
The saboteur leapt a mile, letting loose a couple choice swear words before turning to face an extremely amused Adam standing relaxedly next to the bookcase by the door of his little office, a couple of books from it in one hand. The Detective's hair was down, falling in soft waves around his shoulders, and a pair of sweatpants stuck themselves to his hips while the rest of him remained bare. Jazz pursed his lips in faux annoyance, then stood up and stretched.
"Nothin' much. Jus' checkin' on a last couple details fer th'mission."
"Details? I thought we'd wrapped everything up," said Adam curiously, shifting himself from the bookcase and moving to Jazz. The saboteur moved aside so Adam could see what was on the screen, and his eyes widened.
Staring out at him, slight smile touching still lips, was a familiar face from a photo stuck on a Michigan driver's license. Granted, the hair was completely different and his skin was a little more tanned, but the mahogany eyes were definitely those of Thane Mitchell.
"'Aaron Thane Holt'," the Detective read aloud. "Jazz... is this...?"
"Jus' finishin' Thane's work," replied Jazz, raising his hands. "Look, Thane Mitchell was practically erased from existance anyway through his own doin' 'n Aaron Holt was there in his stead. Birth records, schoolin', job reviews 'n references... everythin' was in place, Mitchell jus' needed t' take out a last few remainin' info pieces."
"You finished his new identity?"
"I told yeh b'fore, Prowl. Second chances." Jazz sighed and switched off the monitor, standing up and stretching his arms over his head until his shoulders cracked. "B'sides, it means he 'n Heath can get a lot more time t' get t' know each other fer who they really are. No more lies, no more secrets. A clean slate."
Adam smiled while he placed his books down, canting his head to one side and raising a hand towards the dreadlocked man. Jazz returned the smile, lighter and freer than it had been in so many years, and took Adam's outstretched hand, interlacing their fingers. The brunette tugged lightly, and Jazz went willingly into the kiss Adam swiftly wrapped him up in.
When they parted Jazz stared into the brilliant blue eyes of his partner, best friend and lover, and couldn't help the whimper at how much care and love radiated from them. "I love you," breathed the African-American, putting a hand against the other's cheek. Adam's smile grew and he closed his blue orbs to the world, leaning into the hand and covering it with one of his own.
"I love you too, Jazz."
-x-
Rae: And there we go. Our boys are happy, we're happy, hooray! So much love to you all, and I hope you've enjoyed the roller coaster that has been New Recruit! (blows kisses)
Playlist:
Viva La Vida - Coldplay
Take Back The City - Snow Patrol
Away from the Sun - 3 Doors Down
Leave a Light On - Belinda Carlisle
Beautiful Disaster - Kelly Clarkson
Here's To Us (Guest Version) - Halestorm
Black or White - Michael Jackson
You Get What You Give - New Radicals
Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
Clocks - Coldplay
Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day
Teenage Dream - Katy Perry
Duck and Run - 3 Doors Down
Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield
Lost Boys - The 69 Eyes
Naturally - Selena Gomez
Illuminated - Hurts
I WIll Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin
Blow Me Away - Breaking Benjamin
Wings of a Butterfly - H.I.M
Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace
Let the Bodies Hit the Floor - Drowning Pool
Headstrong - Trapt
Whispers in the Dark - Skillet