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With the excited chatter going through the ranks of the Autobots, the humans were bound to notice sooner or later. Captain Lennox was the first, and he stepped up to Cliffjumper.
“Hey, Cliff, what’s this all about?” He asked.
The red mech grinned. “Oh, Jazz’ll give a concert tonight! He’s the best when it comes to music, having been what you’d call a ‘DJ’ part-time back on Cybertron before the war.”
“Oh?” Lennox raised his brows in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”
“Well, why don’t you come? I don’t think Jazz would mind a larger audience. The more, the merrier, right?” Cliffjumper gave him a wave, then transformed to patrol their surroundings.
***
Jazz had been warned that Cliffjumper had invited the humans to the concert, so he wasn’t very surprised that they made up the greater part of his audience. Not only the soldiers where present, but also, some important politicians that the saboteur didn’t recognize. Well, it was of no consequence, and he wouldn’t change the plans he had for tonight only because the humans had decided to come, too.
His optics searched the crowd of Autobots and stopped when he found the one he was looking for, a grin spreading on his face. The most important mech was present, that was all that mattered, anyways. He stepped in front of the crowd and the talking stopped, optics and eyes focusing on the TiC.
“Ladies an’ Gentlemechs, honoured humans, I thank ya fer comin’. This concert’s due ta a special event: Th’ arrival o’ th’ Ark, which used ta be Optimus’ flagship an’s now bein’ captained by Prowl, Second in Command o’ th’ Autobots. With ’im aboard th’ Ark was Ultra Magnus, an’ I think there’s no need fer me ta explain jus’ how important those two mechs are fer us, is there? It’s been quita while since I last did this, so ya have ta forgive me if it’s not perfect.” Jazz began.
“Oh, c’mon!” Hound yelled, a broad smile on his face. “Don’t sell yourself short. I mean, when have you ever failed when it comes to music?”
There were a few agreeing shouts from the Autobots and Jazz raised a hand to silence them. “Thank ya fer th’ vote o’ confidence. I really appreciate it. But I had ta warn ya anyways. So, this song’s from Earth, bu’ I changed a few words ta make it fit better. A big thanks ta Blaster, Hound, Jacky an’ Racer fer accompanying me. Enjoy!”
He grinned, then began gave the signal for the start.
“It doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong
It really doesn't mean a thing
It doesn't matter if you like my song
As long as you can hear me sing”
There were a few chuckles from the ‘bots and a few startled laughs from the humans who recognized the song. And what if those weren’t his own words? Every present mech and femme knew the truth of what he was singing. It didn’t matter to Jazz if he was right or wrong, he just rolled with whatever circumstances he was in. And every Autobot knew him well enough that he would kill for an audience listening to his singing.
“'Cause I'm the thorn in every lil’ bot’s crystal
You know I cut but never bleed
A shadow in the night, pure delight
I can satisfy your every need”
Jazz waited until he finished the last syllable, then started to move, dancing to the music as he was known for. A familiar, all to long absent feeling came up inside of him, and he felt giddy and excited. He had missed this, very much so.
“I'm a real smooth dancer, I'm a fantasy mech
Master of illusion, magic touch in my hand
All the stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar of love, second hand hero
King of Dreams”
He grinned when he noticed that he captured his audience’s undivided attention and continued to move. Letting the music fill him and guide his steps.
“Don't make a difference what you got
It doesn't matter what you lose
Don't make a difference if you like it or not
Baby, I'm gonna change your attitude”
Jazz didn’t stop his dance, but he caught his optics, the one he planned all of this for. A smirk played at the corners of his lips as he held the mech’s gaze.
“'Cause all around me there is mystery and wonder
Now can't you see it in my optics
I'll crack the sky, make you feel the thunder
You'll never see through my disguise”
His plating rippled, changing briefly from black and white to silver – the colours he had used since the first hundred vorns of the war, after bad luck had Soundwave in the middle of one of his missions, breaking the saboteur’s cover and disguise.
“I'm a real smooth dancer, I'm a fantasy mech
Master of illusion, with my sleight of hand
All the stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar for love, second hand hero
King of Dreams”
Doorwings trembled as the black and white Praxian finally caught up with what was going on, and blue optics brightened. Jazz was able to read the desire in them and satisfaction rose in him, making the whole performance even sweeter.
“All around, all around
Emotional squeeze through, again and again
I know how to please you, your mind is on the bend
Can't you feel the power, surrender in my arms
Beyond the witching hour, we're traveling on and on”
Jazz made a very suggestive movement before continuing his gliding and elegant movements. He knew very well how to use his body to influence his crowd, and he probably would have dared a bit more if his audience had been Cybertronian only, but as it was, he didn’t want to overwhelm the humans too much. He had already noticed their startled gasps and disbelieving looks.
“I'm a real smooth dancer, I'm a fantasy mech
Master of illusion, magic touch in my hand
The stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar of love, second hand hero
King of Dreams”
Jazz grinned as Prowl shifted, doorwings fanning out to catch every tone, to make sure he didn’t miss anything. They had had this flirting courtship going on ever since Jazz had thrown himself in front of Prowl to shield him from a bullet that would have pierced his head, but then hit Jazz’s abdominal plates and ruptured the main Energon line for his legs. That had been many, many thousands of vorns ago, and Jazz decided that it was time for him to make the first move for more. Time was too precious to waste, as he had been reminded very painfully when Megatron had ripped him into two parts.
“I'm a real smooth dancer, a fantasy mech
Master of illusion, sleight of hand
The stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar for love
King of Dreams”
The audience burst into thundering applause and Jazz bowed, grinning, and cooling fans working hard. Even if he hadn’t had a certain plan in his mind, this would have been totally worth the effort. Jazz bowed twice more, then raised his hand once more to silence the crowd.
“I hope ya enjoyed this. But, I’m not done, if ya’re interested.” The crowd started to clap and whistle, and Jazz grinned. “A’right. The next song’ll be a bit calmer, hope ya’ll like it”
And he started again.
“I’ve been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
And every melody is timeless
Jazz thought back to when he had first met Prowl. It was during the ceremony that had promoted the Praxian to Head of Security. He could still remember how proud those doorwings had towered above everyone else, how those intense amber optics made everyone cower before him. Jazz still remembered that he had wished to have that gorgeous piece of metal in his berth and have his wicket way with him.
Life was stringing me along
Then you came and you cut me loose
Was solo singing on my own
Now I can’t find the key without you
Then, when the war started and they had both ended up with the Autobots, working closely together as Head Tactician and Head of Special Operations. And while Jazz had been smitten from the very first time he had seen the Praxian, he had to work hard to get Prowl to notice him. Every time he had seen Prowl with somebody else, every time the Praxian had been sent away for a mission, Jazz had felt lost. Only to find his groove once more when Prowl returned.
And now your song is on repeat
And I’m dancin' on to your sparkbeat
And when you’re gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
And finally, after hundreds and hundreds of vorns, Jazz’s wooing had been rewarded, leading to that amazing kiss in the tactician’s office aboard the Ark and later to the most amazing night Jazz had ever had. The Polyhexian still dreamt about it, thought about that night when he ‘faced mechs due to his job.
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Jazz still remembered the morning after. He had buried those joors deep in his mind, because that immense feeling of loss? The sparkbreak? It shouldn’t be said that Jazz was a masochist.
“We cannot do this, Jazz.” Prowl whispered, his chevron pressed against the centre of the saboteurs’ forehead. “No matter how much we want this.”
“Pits we can!” Jazz protested. “It’s not as if we bond t’morrow or somethin’.”
“But we would, eventually. And then what? One lucky shot, taking out either one of us, and Optimus loses both his Second and Third in Command.” Jazz made a wounded sound and Prowl kissed him gently, deeply. Their last kiss. “Remember this. When the war is over, when we have peace, I will be yours. I promise.”
Thinking about it still hurt.
I’m sorry if it’s all too much
Every orn you’re here, I’m healing
And I was runnin' out of luck
I never thought I’d find this feeling
Even while dancing, one servo unconsciously came up to touch the welded line that marked where he had been ripped apart. Ratchet had told him that it would fade with time, but it would take vorns. And then – Prowl had been there, here on Earth. Apparently he had arrived not long after Jazz’s death, and when he had learned about the Spec Ops agent’s fate, he had fallen into a shock induced stasis. His processor had been unable to warp around the fact that Jazz had died. It had taken a few years, but then, when he came out of his stasis, he had looked for methods to bring Jazz back from the dead.
And he had succeeded. Prowl had used the last shred from the Allspark that the human femme, Mikaela, had possessed and revived Jazz.
'Cause I’ve been hearing symphonies
Before all I heard was silence
A rhapsody for you and me
And every melody is timeless
And still, even after all that had happened, even with Megatron dead, Prowl had kept his distance. Jazz couldn’t have that, wouldn’t stand by and let it happen. Thus, this concert had been set up.
And now your song is on repeat
And I’m dancin' on to your sparkbeat
And when you’re gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
I just wanna be part of your symphony
Jazz had Prowl’s sparkbeat memorized. Even across the Ark’s recroom filled with ‘bots, Jazz would recognize it. Always. Heck, even with lightyears between them, one of them on each end of the galaxy, Jazz could always tell the rhythm of the Praxian’s spark. And for Jazz it was the most alluring music there was.
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Of course, if Prowl had truly wished to wait until the war was over, Jazz would have respected his wish, no matter how he felt about it. But then the moment outside the hangar of their base had happened…
Jazz had been staring into the sky, wondering why the pits he was alive. Sure, it had been Prowl to come up with the idea, and Jazz had been the only Autobot to perish on Earth, but he didn’t feel worthy of this. He should have stayed dead. Too absorbed in self-pity, he had failed to notice the approach of a mech until two arms had wound around him, holding him close to a warm frame. A reassuring field had engulfed him and Jazz had relaxed into the safety of Prowl’s embrace, listening to the familiar sparkbeat.
And then, to his honest surprise, lips had been pressed against his neck, peppering him with kisses. They had stayed like that for a few hours, enjoying the comfortable silence, before Prowl had left without a word. And while many would have seen that as nothing more but one friend comforting another, it had given Jazz the hope he had needed.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah ah, ah
Jazz changed his rhythm, and while most ‘bots and humans in his audience would think that he had lost his timing, Prowl and Jazz knew better. Because the saboteur was moving to the rhythm of the Praxian’s spark.
And now your song is on repeat
And I’m dancin' on to your sparkbeat
And when you’re gone, I feel incomplete
So if you want the truth
I just wanna be part of your symphony
And honestly, there really wasn’t anything that Jazz wanted more. He wanted Prowl, and he wanted to be Prowl’s. For now and forever. There had never been anybody who had captured his attention more that the icy tactician.
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Symphony
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Symphony
Like a love song on the radio
Will you hold me tight and not let go?
Again, the end of the song was met with thundering applause, and Jazz bowed with a flourish. “Thanks a lot.” He grinned, before the grin turned into something gentler. “I don’ know if ya’ve guessed by now, bu’ this concert has a reason. It’s dedicated ta somebody, and I think th’ mech in question already knows who he is.”
“Aw, Jazzy, I never knew you cared.” Blaster called from behind him. The Autobots burst out laughing, while Jazz flipped him off good-humouredly.
“Sure thin’, Blast, ya’re th’ love o’ m’life.” Jazz said theatrically, which sent another it of laughter through his Cybertronian audience. The humans merely seemed to be confused. Jazz waited a moment, then interrupted his fellow Autobots. “’Kay, now seriously. Y’all know whom ’m talkin’ ‘bout, an’ I, uh…” He trailed off, looking at Prowl with hope and nervousness. “Wanna come up here?”
There was a pause, then, when Jazz feared that he would be rejected, the Praxian stood up and made his way up to the stage. The saboteur whipped on the tip of his pedes, even more nervous about what he was about to do. Prowl stopped a few steps in front of Jazz, and the Polyhexian vented his systems to calm himself.
“Prowler – Prowl. I know wha’ we said, I know wha’ we swore, bu’…” He shook his helm. “Slag, this is hard.” This earned him a chuckle from the audience. “Make fun o’ my misery.” Jazz told them, but the humour in his voice betrayed him. “Prowl, I’ve loved ya fer a very long time, an’ I know ya’ve loved me, too. I know we’ve decided ta wait ‘till th’ war’s over ta start a relationship, bu’ after recent events,” Jazz touched the line where Megatron had ripped him apart, “I’ve noticed tha’ – an’ I hope th’ humans forgive me fer this – life’s short. An’ I don’ wanna wait any longer, ‘cause we don’ know what’ll happen in th’ future, an’ should somethin’ happen ta ya, I don’ think I could go on. I wouldn’ wanna go on. So, ta cut my ramblin’ short: Bond with me?” His field betrayed the nervousness tingeing the edges of his hope.
Their audience was holding their breath, looking at the Praxian with expectant optics, while the humans tried to process what they’ve just heard. Most of them still though of the ‘Transformers’ as robots mimicking sentient life, not ‘real’ sentient beings. That they could love – that was knew to them.
“C’mon, Prowl, just answer!” Somebody – Sideswipe? – called out. “Don’t leave us hanging!”
Prowl smiled ever so slightly, and then when he opened his mouth, instead of answering, a song spilled from his lips. Everyone stared at the tactician, never having expected him to have such a
beautiful voice.
“Spark beats fast
Colours and promises
How to be brave?
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?”
Jazz’s vents hitched and found himself unable to take his optics off of the Praxian, he was mesmerized. True, he had yet to receive an answer to his question, but he knew this song, and if Prowl meant it…
“But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt
Suddenly goes away somehow
One step closer”
Prowl took one step towards Jazz, never missing a beat, gaze locked with the saboteur’s.
“I have died every orn waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you for a million vorns
I'll love you for a million more”
Jazz’s vents stalled and it took his every restraint to not throw himself at the winged mech. But he wanted to listen to Prowl sing, because he had never heard him sing before. Well, not in this way. The Praxian had sung Jazz’s designation quite beautifully when they’d ‘faced.
“Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every vent
Every hour has come to this
One step closer”
Prowl took another step, possessiveness and submission at the same time in his optics, taking and offering. His wings trembled ever so slightly and swayed in a very distinctive way. Mine. Jazz found himself unable to move, pinned down by that look, cooling fans kicking on again.
“I have died every orn waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid
I have loved you for a million vorns
I'll love you for a million more”
Jazz had known that Prowl loved him. Had known it since that night. But Prowl had never actually said those words, and hearing them now… There was a difference between knowing and hearing. And Jazz’s spark fluttered with excitement every time he heard the Praxian sing those words.
“And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your spark to me
I have loved you for a million vorns
I'll love you for a million more”
Time? Well, if a few nano-kliks was time, sure. Jazz’s spark had been Prowl’s nearly from the very beginning. He stared into those blazing optics, remembering every time they broke a bit when the saboteur had taken somebody else to his berth, had danced with another mech. Jazz had always tried to ignore those looks, used the ‘facing to forget what he couldn’t have yet.
“One step closer
One step closer”
Prowl took two other steps, now standing right in front of Jazz. He could feel the Praxian’s every ex-vent on his plating.
“I have died every orn waiting for you
Darling don't be afraid
I have loved you for a million vorns
I'll love you for a million more”
Both of them had suffered the consequences of their decision, both of them had coped differently with it. Because deep in their sparks they had known that their were their perfect match, had longed for each other, but couldn’t, wouldn’t. But now – now they didn’t care anymore. Now they would take what they wanted.
“And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your spark to me
I have loved you for a million vorns
I'll love you for a million more”
No matter what Optimus had deemed appropriate for the Autobots to do in front of the humans, Jazz didn’t care anymore (not that he had cared about the rules when he had proposed to Prowl). He placed a servo on the back of the Praxian’s helm, the other on his waist and claimed those lips he’d dreamt of for million and millions of vorns on a passionate kiss.
There were whoops and catcalls, but he didn’t care, this here right now, this was Prowl’s and his moment. Arms wound themselves around Jazz’s frame and the tactician gave as good as he received, trying to take control of their glossae’s dance. But dancing was the Polyhexian’s domain and Prowl eventually surrendered. And that was the sweetest victory Jazz ever tasted (quite literally, that was) and he felt as if his spark would burst.
“Mine.” Jazz whispered.
“Yours, always.” Prowl agreed, pressing his chevron against the centre of Jazz’s helm.
The saboteur retracted his visor, silver optics full of hope. “Bond with me?”
A sweet, genuine smile graced the Praxian’s lips. “Yes.”