[fic] Accident
*shuffles out of hiding* Uh, hi! Lookit what I did! >.> I'm actually not entirely happy with this. It didn't come out the way I intended it to really, but...I've been stuck on it for long enough, and I'm already half-way through #8, so I might as well post it. Suggestions always welcome, as well as corrections of any type. Sorry mmouse, didn't quite come out as focused on Prowl being confused as I'd hoped. I tried, it didn't work. It's really way too difficult to confuse Prowl...
Title: Accident
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Jazz/Prowl, First Aid, Ratchet, the twins, and Mirage
Setting: G1
Summary: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. And sometimes a reaction to the reaction. And then a reaction to the reaction to the reaction. Which is otherwise known as a chain of events leading to an inevitable end...
Note: Sequel to Absence, the sixth part of the Falling series.
---
Jazz wandered into the med bay whistling a jaunty tune, which turned into a broad grin as he heard the wonderful sound of Ratchet threatening to turn the twins into toasters.
"Hey Ratch, feeling better are we?" Jazz asked, still grinning wildly as the agitated medic turned to look at him.
"My apprentice has bolted me down to the slagging berth." Ratchet snarled, optics flashing, as he pointed at the inconspicuous bolts stopping him from removing his legs from the berth. The comment was followed by howls of laughter from Sunstreaker and Sideswipe - the former still in the med bay, the latter obviously visiting. Trailbreaker and Tracks, the other two mechs in the bay, held their laughter to mere snickers. Jazz himself just grinned wider.
"Really now. Wonder where he got the idea to do that." the saboteur said.
"I think I'll start my own toaster company..." Ratchet said, glaring.
"Oh calm down Ratchet." First Aid said, finally making his appearance. "Sunstreaker is making less of a fuss than you."
"I believe the humans have a saying - doctors make the worst patients." Ratchet said icily. "So why don't you do yourself a favour and let me leave."
"But then you'd miss the show." First Aid said dryly.
"Show?" Sideswipe piped up curiously, and in response, the young medic pulled a piece of machinery out of his subspace. Jazz immediately perked up.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"Your transformation cog, fully repaired." First Aid confirmed with a smile.
"Ooooh..." Jazz said, grinning, and hopped up on a berth.
"Considering what Ratchet said about how uncomfortable your first transformation is going to be, I wouldn't think you'd be this eager." First Aid said with a chuckle.
"Hey, quiet in front!" Ratchet heckled from across the med bay.
"Just putting on a show for the poor, bolted-down medic." Jazz said with a snicker, then ducked as a wrench sailed by his head. Startled, both Jazz and First Aid looked over at Ratchet, but not only had First Aid made sure all throwable tools were well out of Ratchet's reach, but the medic wouldn't have been able to pull his arm back enough to throw it due to how he was bolted down. Which left only the other occupants of the med bay...Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
"He ordered me to." Sideswipe supplied, pointing to Ratchet, when Jazz and First Aid looked at the twins.
"I'm not even going to bother pointing out that right now you actually outrank Ratchet. Just please refrain from throwing tools in the med bay." First Aid said with a shake of his head. "I get nervous when anyone other than Ratchet does it."
"Why's that?" Sideswipe asked curiously.
"No one else has his aim with tools." First Aid said, turning and motioning for Jazz to lay down so he could put the saboteur's transformation cog back in.
"Except you." Ratchet commented dryly. "Even I can't knock both the twins out with one wrench."
"That was a matter of circumstance." First Aid replied absently as he concentrated on his work.
"Sure it was." Ratchet grunted, looking amused. "All six times you've done it."
"It's not my fault that they keep their attention on you and leave themselves open to flying wrenches from behind." First Aid said.
"Which, if you've noticed, we've stopped doing so much anymore." Sideswipe piped up.
"Only because we both like to know when we're going to be knocked out." Sunstreaker added.
"Otherwise you tend to wake up in battle mode. Believe me, a few of my scars ache at the memories." Ratchet said dryly.
"Pft, you have no scars." Sideswipe said. "No transformer does. If we did, Sunny and I would be nothing but giant scars ourselves."
"I meant mental scars." Ratchet said snippily. "And you two wouldn't be giant scars because I end up having to replace almost all your parts over the course of every year or two."
"Even ze vocalizer?" Sideswipe asked in a German accent, suddenly grinning.
"Even ze vocalizer." Sunstreaker deadpanned in response. "You are such a dork, Sides."
"And you both have the attention span of goldfish." Ratchet said, shaking his head.
"Unless killing Decepticons is involved." Sideswipe amended, and Ratchet snorted.
"I've heard you during battle." he said. "No attention span there, either." Sideswipe looked insulted, and a round of more serious bickering probably would have broken out, but First Aid straightened and announced that he was done, thereby drawing attention back to Jazz and him.
"Time to test it out, and get rid of those door wings." First Aid said, stepping back as Jazz sat up, flexing said appendages - which he'd been laying on to make things easier for the young medic.
"I dunno, I kind of like them." Jazz said, grinning smugly as he thought back to the night before, with Prowl. That had been an intense overload, and he wouldn't mind doing it again at all. However, he still needed to test out the cog, and so hopped down from the berth and went to the center of the med bay before initiating his transformation sequence. Warnings immediately began to blare in his ears, but he'd already modified his own transformation sequence quite a few times - one did not, alas, get built with the sort of swan-dive transformation he was now sporting - so it was a simple matter for him to override them and force the sequence to go forwards.
And, as usual, it hurt, but even more so now because of the door wings, which were not used to this kind of activity. They'd never gone through a transformation sequence this way before, and they were voicing their protest through large amounts of pain. It wasn't enough to get more than a grunt from Jazz, however, so Ratchet and the twins must have been slightly disappointed. Jazz didn't really pay attention, instead focusing on the end results, including a few quick simulations about alternate method of transformation that might give him back door wings at some point should he want them. The result were not promising, but Jazz could work that out later. For now, he had other matters to deal with - matters like a red Lamborghini sitting with its front bumper against his, engine revving challengingly. Jazz's response was a rev of his own engine, and then with a squeal of tires, the two of them tore out of the med bay, leaving behind the irritated shouts of all three of the remaining occupants.
---
With his transformation capabilities returned, Jazz suddenly found himself with a whole host of things to do, places to go, and people and mechs to visit. He hadn't quite realized all that he'd stopped doing when his transformation cog had been damaged, because he'd been so caught up in his new relationship with Prowl. Now, however, with Prowl on monitor duty and a sudden sense of freedom, he decided to catch up on everything he'd been procrastinating because he couldn't transform. He spent the day driving around the nearby countryside, visiting the various Autobots out on long-term minor missions or the Autobots' various human friends.
Jazz even joined Hound and Blaster on patrol for a few miles, getting himself thoroughly muddy before heading back to the Ark, where he hunted down Mirage and 'accidentally' ran into the other mech. The ensuing chase lasted most of the rest of the afternoon, as Mirage apparently had nothing better to do than to follow his superior officer around with a pail of mud in his subspace, just waiting for a chance to get close enough. Which was fine, since Jazz had nothing better to do than be chased, and it was a good training exercise...right up until Mirage cheated and used his cloak to sneak up behind Jazz and dump mud over him right as he was sitting down to have his evening energon in the rec room. There was dead silence as Mirage uncloaked with a smirk in front of Jazz, who was now dripping in mud. The rest of the mechs watched, waiting to see what Jazz would do, but he merely leaned forward and peered mournfully into his energon.
"My energon is all muddy..." he said pitifully. Mirage let out an exasperated noise and stomped over to the energon dispenser while the rest of the mechs started laughing. The spy returned to the table with a replacement cube of energon for Jazz, and one for himself, and the two quickly began discussing the various methods they'd used in the chase that afternoon, with other mechs piping up at different parts, ready to put in their two cents on the matter.
So Prowl found Jazz almost an hour later, still covered in the mud Mirage had dumped over him, but seemingly oblivious to it as he, Mirage, and Bumblebee informed Cliffjumper and Bluestreak as to which of the bigger bots in the Ark were the best to hide behind. Thanks to Jazz and Mirage's hijinks throughout the later afternoon, most of the mechs in the rec room were in a good mood, laughing and joking, and so caught up in their conversations that no one actually noticed Prowl's quiet entrance. Indeed, he probably would've gotten away with getting his energon and slipping out again, as he seemed to be planning on doing, had Bluestreak not gone to get a refill of energon right as Prowl got his own cube.
As soon as the gunner spotted Prowl, of course, he grabbed him and almost literally dragged him over to the table where Jazz was, giving up his own seat next to the saboteur and forcing Prowl into it before getting himself a new chair. Jazz's greeting for Prowl was off-handed and casual, but Prowl didn't seem to care, merely nodding politely to his new table companions, murmuring a response to Jazz, and then sitting back and sipping his energon with an ever-increasing frown of confusion on his face. Prowl and Jazz didn't notice it, but the rest of the table companions noticed that the longer Prowl sat there, quietly puzzling over whatever was bothering him, the more distracted Jazz became, frequently glancing over at his lover only to pull himself back to the conversation at hand. So it wasn't really any surprise to the now very amused other mechs when Jazz suddenly bid them goodnight.
"I could stay here all night, but last time I checked my schedule, I was back to my early morning patrol tomorrow, and Prowl's got monitor duty around the same time, so we'd better get going," Jazz excused himself easily, then nudged Prowl as he stood up. The Datsun started badly, clearly so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention, and those at the table chuckled. "C'mon Prowl, time for some recharge."
"Of course," Prowl said, recovering quickly, and stood quickly, making a beeline for the door.
"Good luck with him tonight," Mirage commented as they watched him go. "He seems too distracted to fall for your wiles."
"Oh don't worry, the Jazz-man has ways," Jazz said with a grin, then sauntered out, leaving Bluestreak shuddering and exclaiming how he didn't want to hear things like that. Of course, Jazz realized he might have some trouble when he found that Prowl hadn't even waited for him. The tactician was halfway down the hall already, and Jazz had to run to catch up. The last time Jazz had seen the tactician this confused over something had been right before he'd realized Jazz had feelings for him, and that had only been for a few seconds.
He'd found it rather attractive even in those few seconds though - Prowl was normally such an in-control mech that when he got confused, it was...exciting, especially for a mech of Jazz's chosen profession, where the best thing that could happen on a mission would be for his enemies to be confused. Not that Prowl was an enemy, but having him so confused stirred up the same type of excitement in Jazz, and slag if what the common gossip said about special ops mechs and femmes wasn't correct - nothing made one hornier than having a mission go blissfully, wonderfully right. And watching a confused Prowl for the last few hours had done nothing if not gotten Jazz worked up.
The only problem was, of course, that Prowl seemed so wrapped up in whatever was confusing him that he didn't even seem to notice Jazz following him. Or so Jazz thought. It wasn't until the doors to Prowl's quarters had shut behind them that he discovered that Prowl did, in fact, know he was following, and that was thanks to Prowl suddenly walking around behind Jazz, irritably forcing the saboteur to remain facing forwards, and then begin poking around his back.
"Aid repaired my transformation cog, if you're wondering where they went." Jazz shot back curiously, peering over his shoulder and wondering what Prowl was up to, even while hoping he'd finish soon so he could get on with jumping the tactician. Prowl gave him an irritated look, and then his hand suddenly dug into a seam in Jazz's armour. It was almost painful, but mostly pleasurable, especially once Prowl started wiggling his fingers around, and Jazz couldn't hold back a moan. Then Prowl managed to brush against something that was rather sensitive, due to having been exposed to the world recently, and Jazz staggered, putting out a hand to steady himself, before abruptly turning and backing Prowl up against the door, intending to return the grope. Prowl seemed completely distracted again, however, and completely calm, despite the fact that he'd just blatantly groped Jazz, and the saboteur was now leaning over him, obviously revved up and ready to jump him. Jazz watched in a mixture of astonishment and bemusement for a few moments before bracing his hands on either side of Prowl's head and bringing himself nose-to-nose with his lover.
"Prowl." he stated, and there was a pause before Prowl focused his attention on the saboteur, giving him a quizzical look. "What is going through that processor of yours?"
"Nothing important." Prowl said absently, already turning his attention away from Jazz.
"Really. So why does it have you so distracted?" Jazz asked, and Prowl gave him a partially irritated look.
"Because it's...confusing." he confessed after a moment. "I apologise if my distraction bothers you."
"No need to apologise, just explain to me what's so confusing?" Jazz asked.
"As I said, it's nothing important." Prowl said, shifting slightly, and Jazz realized incredulously that Prowl was lying to him. It took a few moments for him to get over his shock, and when he did, he grinned widely.
"Why Prowler, I do believe you're lying." he said, and Prowl gave him an irritated look. The tactician looked ready to deny it, but Jazz cut him off before he could say anything, "It's kinda hot." That stopped Prowl short, and he gave Jazz an odd look. "Mostly because it means I'll have to do my best to get the truth out of you." Jazz concluded in a purr, and it seemed like Prowl became aware, for the first time, of just how close they were, and that Jazz was quite obviously turned on. He didn't have time to say anything in response, though, as Jazz captured his lips in a searing kiss. He didn't stop there, either, let his hands wander even as he pressed in as close as their builds would allow. In other words, he did his best to present Prowl with so many pleasant sensations at once that the tactician would become completely distracted from whatever he was thinking about.
Apparently, he did even better than he'd thought, as when he tried to pull away to make some sort of snappy remark, Prowl did not seem inclined to let him. The tactician wrapped a leg around Jazz's own legs, and brought his hands up to the back of Jazz's neck, pulling him back in when he tried to move. Jazz was quite fine with this - he'd been planning on ambushing Prowl with questions AFTER overloading, anyways. Wouldn't do to get Prowl all distracted and needing a solution while Jazz was standing there with a revving engine and a burning desire to reaffirm his and Prowl's relationship. So Jazz really had no problems giving in, letting his hands wander.
But Prowl, it seemed, wasn't into the 'wandering' thing tonight...everywhere the tactician's hands went seemed purposeful, since everywhere his hands went were Jazz's most sensitive spots. Prowl was so quick about it that Jazz didn't even realize he'd lost control of the situation until his back hit the wall, and he realized Prowl had managed to practically reverse their positions. The saboteur debated trying to regain control, but when Prowl's hands hit just the right spot, and pleasure rippled through all of Jazz's systems, the thought was practically fried from his processor. From there on, it was the best he could do to keep up with the sudden rather aggressive Prowl as both their systems revved higher, nearing overload within minutes.
Then, like the eye of a storm, Prowl suddenly stilled as both their spark chambers opened, instinct causing them both to expose their sparks at the same moment. It was almost calming, the meeting and melding of their sparks, and it was then that Jazz remember his entire reason for starting this. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but poke slightly into Prowl's mind, try to find out what the tactician was confused about. What he found confused him, as well - because there seemed to be a stream of data linking their minds already, a silver chain of sparkling energy that pulsed in a stable rhythm. Curious, Jazz reached out to it mentally - and suddenly Prowl was beside him, staying him, figuratively grabbing his hand.
Emotions, memories, flowed through Jazz - Prowl waking up, feeling better, and kissing Jazz goodbye before heading off to his shift. Then feeling disoriented the farther away from his quarters he walked, but eventually recovering, blocking the sensation. A cube of energon, reporting for duty, relieving a grumpier-than-normal Gears, settling himself for his shift. Then sudden white-hot pain, rippling up and down his back where his door wings would be - pain enough to cause him to shut down for a minute or two. He woke in a panic, already looking for Jazz. When he discovered that the saboteur had just left the med bay, he realized what had happened - but that didn't quite explain the odd sensation he now had of sunshine and wind. He tried to ignore it, anyways, and continue with his shift, but couldn't help but be distracted as the day wore on and the odd sensations continued to change.
Somewhere in there, his shift ended, and someone suggested he get some energon since he was looking a little dazed. He wandered off to the rec room just to stop whoever it was from worrying, and was grabbed by Bluestreak. Fast-forward to the walk back to his quarters, when he realized the odd disorienting sensation had gone away, and, suspicious, he'd dug his fingers into Jazz's innards looking for the saboteurs now-hidden doors. A brush against them, which he felt, and he figured out what he'd been feeling, but wasn't sure what it meant. And then he saw this - this tenuous connection, linking him and Jazz together.
A thought occurred to Jazz - permanent? The answering response from Prowl was both a denial, a confirmation, and a sarcastic you think I know? Amusement rippled between them, then Jazz reached out to do what Prowl had stopped him from doing before - probing the connection. And suddenly he was swept along, into a morass of images, thoughts, feelings, memories, ideas....it overwhelmed him, and he would have shut down had it not been for the hand that reached in and pulled him out...
...and then Jazz came to his senses as Prowl jerked away, staggered backwards, spark still exposed. Jazz sagged against the wall, drained from the odd experience, but oddly euphoric. He had a feeling he should be concerned, or worried about what just happened, or at least wondering what had happened, but all he could summon the energy to do was stare goofily up at the ceiling. He wasn't even sure if he'd overloaded somewhere during the whole thing, though he certainly felt as if he was very slowly coming down from an overload. Very slowly. Eventually, Jazz summoned the will to look over at Prowl, and found the tactician sprawled on the floor, looking curiously up at the ceiling.
"It's called a ceiling." Jazz snickered.
"I know that, Jazz." Prowl replied with exasperation. "I was...attempting to figure out what you just did."
"Hey, I'm not the only one at fault here." Jazz said. "And why are we assigning blame?"
"Not blaming. Just trying to understand." Prowl replied evenly. "You are, without a doubt, the most confusing mech I have ever met. And my life has only gotten more and more confusing the closer I've gotten to you."
"Is this a problem?" Jazz asked.
"No, it's quite...refreshing." Prowl decided, and Jazz snickered at that.
"I'm refreshing?" he asked, still laughing, and Prowl raised his head to look at the saboteur and then shook his head before letting it fall back down with a slight clang. There was a moment of quiet, and then Prowl slowly lifted his head again, and curious expression on his face.
"Jazz?" he asked.
"Yeah Prowl?" Jazz replied, then frowned at Prowl just continued to stare at him. And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, the tactician...snickered. The snicker grew, and within moments Prowl was full-out laughing, something Jazz had never seen before. The saboteur could only watch for a few moments, taking in the unusual sight and sound.
"Uh...Prowl? Y'alright there?" Jazz asked, finally recovering from the shock. Prowl waved a hand vaguely, still laughing. Jazz, not knowing whether that was a 'yes, fine' or a 'no, please help me', pushed away from the wall and cautiously approached the tactician. When he crouched down and reached out, resting a hand on Prowl's shoulder, the other mech quickly quieted himself, looking Jazz in the visor, an amused smirk on his lips.
"Only us." the tactician said with a chuckle.
"Only us what?" Jazz asked blankly, then gasped at a ghost sensation of hands running along his hidden door wings. Before he could recover, Prowl had wrapped an arm behind his neck and pulled himself up to capture Jazz's mouth in a passionate kiss, and then images popped into the saboteur's processor, extremely...nice images. And oddly, they were all from Prowl's...point...of...view... Jazz's processor stuttered to a stop as he realized what was going on. When it started up again, he looked up into Prowl's smirking face and began laughing.
"Only us indeed." Jazz snickered as he slowly calmed himself down. "This should be interesting."
"Very, I'm sure." Prowl said dryly. "I think we're going to be off battle duty for a little while longer."
"Hey, as long as I'm not stuck behind alone again, I think I can handle it." Jazz said with amusement, then added slightly wonderingly, "Though I guess I'll never really be alone ever again."
"No, you won't." Prowl said softly. And though they spoke softly for several more minutes before going to the med bay, not a word was heard in the room, nor had one been heard in the past ten minutes.
---
"An accident." Ratchet stared disbelievingly at the two officers standing in front of him. First Aid had gone for recharge for the night, and since there were rarely any injuries during the night and Ratchet was mostly repaired anyways, the CMO had actually been let up from his berth.
"More of an unintentional consequence." Jazz supplied.
"I believe that's one of the definitions of an 'accident', Jazz." Prowl intoned.
"OK, so it was an accident then." Jazz said, giving Prowl a grin, and the tactician shook his head, but Ratchet couldn't help but notice that Prowl was smiling slightly.
"Alright...alright. I'll advise Prime that your recommendations for continued removal from the battle duty roster have good reasoning." Ratchet said, trying to plow his way through the oddness of a smiling Prowl. "Just...tell me one thing. How the frag do you accidentally bond?!"
- No wait, there's one more part! -
Title: Accident
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Jazz/Prowl, First Aid, Ratchet, the twins, and Mirage
Setting: G1
Summary: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. And sometimes a reaction to the reaction. And then a reaction to the reaction to the reaction. Which is otherwise known as a chain of events leading to an inevitable end...
Note: Sequel to Absence, the sixth part of the Falling series.
---
Jazz wandered into the med bay whistling a jaunty tune, which turned into a broad grin as he heard the wonderful sound of Ratchet threatening to turn the twins into toasters.
"Hey Ratch, feeling better are we?" Jazz asked, still grinning wildly as the agitated medic turned to look at him.
"My apprentice has bolted me down to the slagging berth." Ratchet snarled, optics flashing, as he pointed at the inconspicuous bolts stopping him from removing his legs from the berth. The comment was followed by howls of laughter from Sunstreaker and Sideswipe - the former still in the med bay, the latter obviously visiting. Trailbreaker and Tracks, the other two mechs in the bay, held their laughter to mere snickers. Jazz himself just grinned wider.
"Really now. Wonder where he got the idea to do that." the saboteur said.
"I think I'll start my own toaster company..." Ratchet said, glaring.
"Oh calm down Ratchet." First Aid said, finally making his appearance. "Sunstreaker is making less of a fuss than you."
"I believe the humans have a saying - doctors make the worst patients." Ratchet said icily. "So why don't you do yourself a favour and let me leave."
"But then you'd miss the show." First Aid said dryly.
"Show?" Sideswipe piped up curiously, and in response, the young medic pulled a piece of machinery out of his subspace. Jazz immediately perked up.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"Your transformation cog, fully repaired." First Aid confirmed with a smile.
"Ooooh..." Jazz said, grinning, and hopped up on a berth.
"Considering what Ratchet said about how uncomfortable your first transformation is going to be, I wouldn't think you'd be this eager." First Aid said with a chuckle.
"Hey, quiet in front!" Ratchet heckled from across the med bay.
"Just putting on a show for the poor, bolted-down medic." Jazz said with a snicker, then ducked as a wrench sailed by his head. Startled, both Jazz and First Aid looked over at Ratchet, but not only had First Aid made sure all throwable tools were well out of Ratchet's reach, but the medic wouldn't have been able to pull his arm back enough to throw it due to how he was bolted down. Which left only the other occupants of the med bay...Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.
"He ordered me to." Sideswipe supplied, pointing to Ratchet, when Jazz and First Aid looked at the twins.
"I'm not even going to bother pointing out that right now you actually outrank Ratchet. Just please refrain from throwing tools in the med bay." First Aid said with a shake of his head. "I get nervous when anyone other than Ratchet does it."
"Why's that?" Sideswipe asked curiously.
"No one else has his aim with tools." First Aid said, turning and motioning for Jazz to lay down so he could put the saboteur's transformation cog back in.
"Except you." Ratchet commented dryly. "Even I can't knock both the twins out with one wrench."
"That was a matter of circumstance." First Aid replied absently as he concentrated on his work.
"Sure it was." Ratchet grunted, looking amused. "All six times you've done it."
"It's not my fault that they keep their attention on you and leave themselves open to flying wrenches from behind." First Aid said.
"Which, if you've noticed, we've stopped doing so much anymore." Sideswipe piped up.
"Only because we both like to know when we're going to be knocked out." Sunstreaker added.
"Otherwise you tend to wake up in battle mode. Believe me, a few of my scars ache at the memories." Ratchet said dryly.
"Pft, you have no scars." Sideswipe said. "No transformer does. If we did, Sunny and I would be nothing but giant scars ourselves."
"I meant mental scars." Ratchet said snippily. "And you two wouldn't be giant scars because I end up having to replace almost all your parts over the course of every year or two."
"Even ze vocalizer?" Sideswipe asked in a German accent, suddenly grinning.
"Even ze vocalizer." Sunstreaker deadpanned in response. "You are such a dork, Sides."
"And you both have the attention span of goldfish." Ratchet said, shaking his head.
"Unless killing Decepticons is involved." Sideswipe amended, and Ratchet snorted.
"I've heard you during battle." he said. "No attention span there, either." Sideswipe looked insulted, and a round of more serious bickering probably would have broken out, but First Aid straightened and announced that he was done, thereby drawing attention back to Jazz and him.
"Time to test it out, and get rid of those door wings." First Aid said, stepping back as Jazz sat up, flexing said appendages - which he'd been laying on to make things easier for the young medic.
"I dunno, I kind of like them." Jazz said, grinning smugly as he thought back to the night before, with Prowl. That had been an intense overload, and he wouldn't mind doing it again at all. However, he still needed to test out the cog, and so hopped down from the berth and went to the center of the med bay before initiating his transformation sequence. Warnings immediately began to blare in his ears, but he'd already modified his own transformation sequence quite a few times - one did not, alas, get built with the sort of swan-dive transformation he was now sporting - so it was a simple matter for him to override them and force the sequence to go forwards.
And, as usual, it hurt, but even more so now because of the door wings, which were not used to this kind of activity. They'd never gone through a transformation sequence this way before, and they were voicing their protest through large amounts of pain. It wasn't enough to get more than a grunt from Jazz, however, so Ratchet and the twins must have been slightly disappointed. Jazz didn't really pay attention, instead focusing on the end results, including a few quick simulations about alternate method of transformation that might give him back door wings at some point should he want them. The result were not promising, but Jazz could work that out later. For now, he had other matters to deal with - matters like a red Lamborghini sitting with its front bumper against his, engine revving challengingly. Jazz's response was a rev of his own engine, and then with a squeal of tires, the two of them tore out of the med bay, leaving behind the irritated shouts of all three of the remaining occupants.
---
With his transformation capabilities returned, Jazz suddenly found himself with a whole host of things to do, places to go, and people and mechs to visit. He hadn't quite realized all that he'd stopped doing when his transformation cog had been damaged, because he'd been so caught up in his new relationship with Prowl. Now, however, with Prowl on monitor duty and a sudden sense of freedom, he decided to catch up on everything he'd been procrastinating because he couldn't transform. He spent the day driving around the nearby countryside, visiting the various Autobots out on long-term minor missions or the Autobots' various human friends.
Jazz even joined Hound and Blaster on patrol for a few miles, getting himself thoroughly muddy before heading back to the Ark, where he hunted down Mirage and 'accidentally' ran into the other mech. The ensuing chase lasted most of the rest of the afternoon, as Mirage apparently had nothing better to do than to follow his superior officer around with a pail of mud in his subspace, just waiting for a chance to get close enough. Which was fine, since Jazz had nothing better to do than be chased, and it was a good training exercise...right up until Mirage cheated and used his cloak to sneak up behind Jazz and dump mud over him right as he was sitting down to have his evening energon in the rec room. There was dead silence as Mirage uncloaked with a smirk in front of Jazz, who was now dripping in mud. The rest of the mechs watched, waiting to see what Jazz would do, but he merely leaned forward and peered mournfully into his energon.
"My energon is all muddy..." he said pitifully. Mirage let out an exasperated noise and stomped over to the energon dispenser while the rest of the mechs started laughing. The spy returned to the table with a replacement cube of energon for Jazz, and one for himself, and the two quickly began discussing the various methods they'd used in the chase that afternoon, with other mechs piping up at different parts, ready to put in their two cents on the matter.
So Prowl found Jazz almost an hour later, still covered in the mud Mirage had dumped over him, but seemingly oblivious to it as he, Mirage, and Bumblebee informed Cliffjumper and Bluestreak as to which of the bigger bots in the Ark were the best to hide behind. Thanks to Jazz and Mirage's hijinks throughout the later afternoon, most of the mechs in the rec room were in a good mood, laughing and joking, and so caught up in their conversations that no one actually noticed Prowl's quiet entrance. Indeed, he probably would've gotten away with getting his energon and slipping out again, as he seemed to be planning on doing, had Bluestreak not gone to get a refill of energon right as Prowl got his own cube.
As soon as the gunner spotted Prowl, of course, he grabbed him and almost literally dragged him over to the table where Jazz was, giving up his own seat next to the saboteur and forcing Prowl into it before getting himself a new chair. Jazz's greeting for Prowl was off-handed and casual, but Prowl didn't seem to care, merely nodding politely to his new table companions, murmuring a response to Jazz, and then sitting back and sipping his energon with an ever-increasing frown of confusion on his face. Prowl and Jazz didn't notice it, but the rest of the table companions noticed that the longer Prowl sat there, quietly puzzling over whatever was bothering him, the more distracted Jazz became, frequently glancing over at his lover only to pull himself back to the conversation at hand. So it wasn't really any surprise to the now very amused other mechs when Jazz suddenly bid them goodnight.
"I could stay here all night, but last time I checked my schedule, I was back to my early morning patrol tomorrow, and Prowl's got monitor duty around the same time, so we'd better get going," Jazz excused himself easily, then nudged Prowl as he stood up. The Datsun started badly, clearly so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he hadn't been paying attention, and those at the table chuckled. "C'mon Prowl, time for some recharge."
"Of course," Prowl said, recovering quickly, and stood quickly, making a beeline for the door.
"Good luck with him tonight," Mirage commented as they watched him go. "He seems too distracted to fall for your wiles."
"Oh don't worry, the Jazz-man has ways," Jazz said with a grin, then sauntered out, leaving Bluestreak shuddering and exclaiming how he didn't want to hear things like that. Of course, Jazz realized he might have some trouble when he found that Prowl hadn't even waited for him. The tactician was halfway down the hall already, and Jazz had to run to catch up. The last time Jazz had seen the tactician this confused over something had been right before he'd realized Jazz had feelings for him, and that had only been for a few seconds.
He'd found it rather attractive even in those few seconds though - Prowl was normally such an in-control mech that when he got confused, it was...exciting, especially for a mech of Jazz's chosen profession, where the best thing that could happen on a mission would be for his enemies to be confused. Not that Prowl was an enemy, but having him so confused stirred up the same type of excitement in Jazz, and slag if what the common gossip said about special ops mechs and femmes wasn't correct - nothing made one hornier than having a mission go blissfully, wonderfully right. And watching a confused Prowl for the last few hours had done nothing if not gotten Jazz worked up.
The only problem was, of course, that Prowl seemed so wrapped up in whatever was confusing him that he didn't even seem to notice Jazz following him. Or so Jazz thought. It wasn't until the doors to Prowl's quarters had shut behind them that he discovered that Prowl did, in fact, know he was following, and that was thanks to Prowl suddenly walking around behind Jazz, irritably forcing the saboteur to remain facing forwards, and then begin poking around his back.
"Aid repaired my transformation cog, if you're wondering where they went." Jazz shot back curiously, peering over his shoulder and wondering what Prowl was up to, even while hoping he'd finish soon so he could get on with jumping the tactician. Prowl gave him an irritated look, and then his hand suddenly dug into a seam in Jazz's armour. It was almost painful, but mostly pleasurable, especially once Prowl started wiggling his fingers around, and Jazz couldn't hold back a moan. Then Prowl managed to brush against something that was rather sensitive, due to having been exposed to the world recently, and Jazz staggered, putting out a hand to steady himself, before abruptly turning and backing Prowl up against the door, intending to return the grope. Prowl seemed completely distracted again, however, and completely calm, despite the fact that he'd just blatantly groped Jazz, and the saboteur was now leaning over him, obviously revved up and ready to jump him. Jazz watched in a mixture of astonishment and bemusement for a few moments before bracing his hands on either side of Prowl's head and bringing himself nose-to-nose with his lover.
"Prowl." he stated, and there was a pause before Prowl focused his attention on the saboteur, giving him a quizzical look. "What is going through that processor of yours?"
"Nothing important." Prowl said absently, already turning his attention away from Jazz.
"Really. So why does it have you so distracted?" Jazz asked, and Prowl gave him a partially irritated look.
"Because it's...confusing." he confessed after a moment. "I apologise if my distraction bothers you."
"No need to apologise, just explain to me what's so confusing?" Jazz asked.
"As I said, it's nothing important." Prowl said, shifting slightly, and Jazz realized incredulously that Prowl was lying to him. It took a few moments for him to get over his shock, and when he did, he grinned widely.
"Why Prowler, I do believe you're lying." he said, and Prowl gave him an irritated look. The tactician looked ready to deny it, but Jazz cut him off before he could say anything, "It's kinda hot." That stopped Prowl short, and he gave Jazz an odd look. "Mostly because it means I'll have to do my best to get the truth out of you." Jazz concluded in a purr, and it seemed like Prowl became aware, for the first time, of just how close they were, and that Jazz was quite obviously turned on. He didn't have time to say anything in response, though, as Jazz captured his lips in a searing kiss. He didn't stop there, either, let his hands wander even as he pressed in as close as their builds would allow. In other words, he did his best to present Prowl with so many pleasant sensations at once that the tactician would become completely distracted from whatever he was thinking about.
Apparently, he did even better than he'd thought, as when he tried to pull away to make some sort of snappy remark, Prowl did not seem inclined to let him. The tactician wrapped a leg around Jazz's own legs, and brought his hands up to the back of Jazz's neck, pulling him back in when he tried to move. Jazz was quite fine with this - he'd been planning on ambushing Prowl with questions AFTER overloading, anyways. Wouldn't do to get Prowl all distracted and needing a solution while Jazz was standing there with a revving engine and a burning desire to reaffirm his and Prowl's relationship. So Jazz really had no problems giving in, letting his hands wander.
But Prowl, it seemed, wasn't into the 'wandering' thing tonight...everywhere the tactician's hands went seemed purposeful, since everywhere his hands went were Jazz's most sensitive spots. Prowl was so quick about it that Jazz didn't even realize he'd lost control of the situation until his back hit the wall, and he realized Prowl had managed to practically reverse their positions. The saboteur debated trying to regain control, but when Prowl's hands hit just the right spot, and pleasure rippled through all of Jazz's systems, the thought was practically fried from his processor. From there on, it was the best he could do to keep up with the sudden rather aggressive Prowl as both their systems revved higher, nearing overload within minutes.
Then, like the eye of a storm, Prowl suddenly stilled as both their spark chambers opened, instinct causing them both to expose their sparks at the same moment. It was almost calming, the meeting and melding of their sparks, and it was then that Jazz remember his entire reason for starting this. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but poke slightly into Prowl's mind, try to find out what the tactician was confused about. What he found confused him, as well - because there seemed to be a stream of data linking their minds already, a silver chain of sparkling energy that pulsed in a stable rhythm. Curious, Jazz reached out to it mentally - and suddenly Prowl was beside him, staying him, figuratively grabbing his hand.
Emotions, memories, flowed through Jazz - Prowl waking up, feeling better, and kissing Jazz goodbye before heading off to his shift. Then feeling disoriented the farther away from his quarters he walked, but eventually recovering, blocking the sensation. A cube of energon, reporting for duty, relieving a grumpier-than-normal Gears, settling himself for his shift. Then sudden white-hot pain, rippling up and down his back where his door wings would be - pain enough to cause him to shut down for a minute or two. He woke in a panic, already looking for Jazz. When he discovered that the saboteur had just left the med bay, he realized what had happened - but that didn't quite explain the odd sensation he now had of sunshine and wind. He tried to ignore it, anyways, and continue with his shift, but couldn't help but be distracted as the day wore on and the odd sensations continued to change.
Somewhere in there, his shift ended, and someone suggested he get some energon since he was looking a little dazed. He wandered off to the rec room just to stop whoever it was from worrying, and was grabbed by Bluestreak. Fast-forward to the walk back to his quarters, when he realized the odd disorienting sensation had gone away, and, suspicious, he'd dug his fingers into Jazz's innards looking for the saboteurs now-hidden doors. A brush against them, which he felt, and he figured out what he'd been feeling, but wasn't sure what it meant. And then he saw this - this tenuous connection, linking him and Jazz together.
A thought occurred to Jazz - permanent? The answering response from Prowl was both a denial, a confirmation, and a sarcastic you think I know? Amusement rippled between them, then Jazz reached out to do what Prowl had stopped him from doing before - probing the connection. And suddenly he was swept along, into a morass of images, thoughts, feelings, memories, ideas....it overwhelmed him, and he would have shut down had it not been for the hand that reached in and pulled him out...
...and then Jazz came to his senses as Prowl jerked away, staggered backwards, spark still exposed. Jazz sagged against the wall, drained from the odd experience, but oddly euphoric. He had a feeling he should be concerned, or worried about what just happened, or at least wondering what had happened, but all he could summon the energy to do was stare goofily up at the ceiling. He wasn't even sure if he'd overloaded somewhere during the whole thing, though he certainly felt as if he was very slowly coming down from an overload. Very slowly. Eventually, Jazz summoned the will to look over at Prowl, and found the tactician sprawled on the floor, looking curiously up at the ceiling.
"It's called a ceiling." Jazz snickered.
"I know that, Jazz." Prowl replied with exasperation. "I was...attempting to figure out what you just did."
"Hey, I'm not the only one at fault here." Jazz said. "And why are we assigning blame?"
"Not blaming. Just trying to understand." Prowl replied evenly. "You are, without a doubt, the most confusing mech I have ever met. And my life has only gotten more and more confusing the closer I've gotten to you."
"Is this a problem?" Jazz asked.
"No, it's quite...refreshing." Prowl decided, and Jazz snickered at that.
"I'm refreshing?" he asked, still laughing, and Prowl raised his head to look at the saboteur and then shook his head before letting it fall back down with a slight clang. There was a moment of quiet, and then Prowl slowly lifted his head again, and curious expression on his face.
"Jazz?" he asked.
"Yeah Prowl?" Jazz replied, then frowned at Prowl just continued to stare at him. And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, the tactician...snickered. The snicker grew, and within moments Prowl was full-out laughing, something Jazz had never seen before. The saboteur could only watch for a few moments, taking in the unusual sight and sound.
"Uh...Prowl? Y'alright there?" Jazz asked, finally recovering from the shock. Prowl waved a hand vaguely, still laughing. Jazz, not knowing whether that was a 'yes, fine' or a 'no, please help me', pushed away from the wall and cautiously approached the tactician. When he crouched down and reached out, resting a hand on Prowl's shoulder, the other mech quickly quieted himself, looking Jazz in the visor, an amused smirk on his lips.
"Only us." the tactician said with a chuckle.
"Only us what?" Jazz asked blankly, then gasped at a ghost sensation of hands running along his hidden door wings. Before he could recover, Prowl had wrapped an arm behind his neck and pulled himself up to capture Jazz's mouth in a passionate kiss, and then images popped into the saboteur's processor, extremely...nice images. And oddly, they were all from Prowl's...point...of...view... Jazz's processor stuttered to a stop as he realized what was going on. When it started up again, he looked up into Prowl's smirking face and began laughing.
"Only us indeed." Jazz snickered as he slowly calmed himself down. "This should be interesting."
"Very, I'm sure." Prowl said dryly. "I think we're going to be off battle duty for a little while longer."
"Hey, as long as I'm not stuck behind alone again, I think I can handle it." Jazz said with amusement, then added slightly wonderingly, "Though I guess I'll never really be alone ever again."
"No, you won't." Prowl said softly. And though they spoke softly for several more minutes before going to the med bay, not a word was heard in the room, nor had one been heard in the past ten minutes.
---
"An accident." Ratchet stared disbelievingly at the two officers standing in front of him. First Aid had gone for recharge for the night, and since there were rarely any injuries during the night and Ratchet was mostly repaired anyways, the CMO had actually been let up from his berth.
"More of an unintentional consequence." Jazz supplied.
"I believe that's one of the definitions of an 'accident', Jazz." Prowl intoned.
"OK, so it was an accident then." Jazz said, giving Prowl a grin, and the tactician shook his head, but Ratchet couldn't help but notice that Prowl was smiling slightly.
"Alright...alright. I'll advise Prime that your recommendations for continued removal from the battle duty roster have good reasoning." Ratchet said, trying to plow his way through the oddness of a smiling Prowl. "Just...tell me one thing. How the frag do you accidentally bond?!"
- No wait, there's one more part! -