Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (1/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffyness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Blaster, Tracks, Red Alert, Inferno, Sentinel Prime.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: This is a little piece for snugsbunny, inspired directly by one of her drabbles. Hope you like, Snuggles! Yes, your name is now and forever Snuggles.

The bar wasn't one of the busiest, loudest places one could find in these parts of Cybertron, and quite frankly that suited him just fine. Prowl was never one for loud and crowded places, he preferred the cozy and quiet atmosphere this bar provided.

Sure, there was still music playing, but it was so soft and soothing that was more like a pleasant background noise than the cacophony of booming drums and loud strings one usually heard played on the busier bars. And although the bar provided a small stage where on certain cycles the patrons were welcomed to try their musical prowess either playing an instrument of choice or singing along a pre recorded track; even the worst singers or instrument players could hardly disturb the other patrons.

Prowl leaned back comfortably against his plush seat, feeling the special gel-like filling of the backrest mold itself perfectly to the black and white mech's back. He watched from his place, almost completely enshrouded in shadows, dim lights coming from the small lamp on the table, and the glow of his own blue optics and the data pad he had as companion, a lone cube of high grade only half way consumed rested within his reach in the neat surface of his table.

It was the fourth cycle he came to this bar to unwind from a long and exhausting shift, and he could only imagine how tired others had to be if he himself was taking to come to this place this often in a single deca-cycle. He knew Red Alert would blow a gasket or two if he found out he was coming to this place this often, in his co-worker's opinion, someone of Prowl's status and high standing in the security forces had no business being in such a place, exposed to any of the dangers Red Alert could so easily conjure happening in his mind.

Normally, Prowl would have agreed with Red Alert's assertions, but the past few cycles had been extremely taxing, and quite frankly he needed to unwind a little. Besides, although he would never admit it openly, Prowl enjoyed to sneak away from Red Alert's overprotective gaze once in a while.

No matter how much he liked his job, and the satisfaction it brought to him that his work was meant to do something good for the population of the planet at large, it was still very frustrating to work under someone like Sentinel Prime sometimes. Prowl knew he was but a glorified secretary for their prime, and despite his strict adherence to protocol, and all the extra work he sneaked in during his regular shift in order to try to complete as much of the administrative work required in the Security Forces headquarters; Sentinel Prime's total disregard for the administrative protocol more often than not implied not only Prowl but everyone in the division had to be submitted to a deca-cycle or two devoted to catch up with pending work.

Despite the reputation he knew he held among his co-workers and subordinates, Prowl was not keen on having to spend sometimes several extra joors past his shift devoted to helping to take care of the heavy load of pending work along with everyone else in the force. it was specially grating for him because, by Primus, he already worked so diligently to try to prevent these situations as much as he could, and his direct superior not only did very little to help him out, he added an extra load to everyone's job --and then the mech was in a foul mood because he couldn't understand how that much pending administrative work had pilled up. Those were times when Red Alert would go into a rant that often ended with Sentinel Prime sneaking out of the room to avoid the tirade, and Prowl being the one having to listen to Red Alert rant then about Sentinel Prime making it harder for everyone to do their jobs, specially for the white and red mech.

So, slag it all, if Red Alert at least had Inferno to go back home to and help to ease out the stress; Prowl was going to sit down on this cozy and secluded corner of the bar, data pad in hand, and enjoy a little piece of peace before going back home to drop himself on his bunk for a meagre few joors of recharge before getting up to deal with more catching up.

The black and white mech set his stylus down on the table and reached to pick up his cube, sipping just a tiny amount of the mild brew of high grade, casually sweeping the large establishment with his sharp blue optics. He set the cube down and picked his stylus once again, bringing it back to his data pad. It was a different kind of data pad that he normally used at work, instead of the see through solid holographic display, this pad was mounted against a framework, keeping its contents hidden from prying optics.

The stylus rarely stopped moving, and only a very well trained optic could see the difference on the movements and realize the black and white mech was not writing. The strokes of the stylus' tip were soft, swift, tracing shapes, lines, curves, slowly but surely beginning to take form, depth and finally, identity. Prowl's optics were casually trained on a table on the far side of the room, watching a mech and a femme talking with each other amongst sips of high grade.

'Engaged.' Prowl though, observing carefully their body language as he traced new lines on his pad, giving a more defined look to the hand of the femme on his drawing, holding delicately her cube of high grade. She was smiling, with a dreamy glint coloring her optics, giving the impression she was beyond ecstacied with whatever she was talking about with the mech across from her. Although the femme moved a lot, Prowl had captured already the basic sketch of her and her companion's shapes, and only looked up every now and then to confirm the details and accents he was now adding to his drawing. He added some of the tables and random patrons that were in the way between him and the couple he had been drawing, finally re-touching the subjects of his drawing until he was satisfied and saved the sketch, opening a new blank file to draw something else.

For the past few cycles, he had been doing the very same thing every time he came out of work. Instead of heading right back to his living unit, he detoured to this lovely little bar, pulled out his sketch pad, and drew away for as long as he could before his sense of responsibility and duty told him it was best to go so he could get a decent recharge before work. Nobody in the security forces would ever peg him as the type to have any kind of flair for the arts, let alone that he was actually quite skilled in the trade, a good reason why he kept his artwork a secret of sorts. Couldn't let a few of his subordinates crash their CPU by the realization their stiff 'stick in the slag', 'pipe up his aft', strict and stoic, nagging-bot extraordinaire was actually interested in something other than rules, regulations and protocol. He couldn't help the soft snicker that came from his vocal processor at the thought. Nope, nobody would ever believe he enjoyed art, or that he had the capacity of expressing himself through it.

He kept drawing for a while, little by little draining the contents of his cube of high grade, more interested in capturing moments through his stylus and data pad than on actually drinking the substance. When he was preparing to finish his cube and leave for the night, the black and white mech heard a rather familiar voice, rather loud for the quiet establishment, prompting him to look up from his pad to see a bright orange mech followed by two smaller ones.

Prowl watched the trio curiously, face partly hidden behind the pad. Blaster, the orange mech, led his companions towards one of the tables near the small stage where they sat down and called a waitress to order their drinks. Prowl tried to identify the other mechs, he recognized one of them vaguely, Jazz, as one of the field operatives in the force. He was in a different sub-division so Prowl rarely interacted with Jazz directly, but he knew of his exploits and entire service record. Blaster was a communications specialist serving in the security forces as well, right under Red Alert's command. The other mech, blue with white accents and a red face he didn't recognize, most likely a civilian friend of Blaster.

'Perhaps more than just a friend.' Prowl mused, watching the way the blue mech's and Blaster's hands touched. The black and white chevroned mech pondered if this was a good moment to retreat or if he should stick around a little longer and see what the trio was up to, deciding he'd be more inconspicuous if he just stayed where he was, otherwise he could attract attention easier. In a sea of bright colors and gleaming metallic paint, his primarily black and white color scheme stuck out too much to not be noticed by someone like Blaster, and there was no doubt in his processors that word of where he had been would be passed to Red Alert. He did not fancy an argument about his personal habits clashing with security matters the following cycle, so he stayed on his secluded, partly obscured corner, watching the three new comers.

The trio talked and laughed among cubes of high grade, a little too much and too quickly on Blaster's part for Prowl's taste, but it wasn't his business as long as Blaster was fully functional and attentive at work the following cycle.

A cube or so later, the three mechs took to the stage, beginning to sing some cheerful songs that, oddly enough, fitted the calm and warm atmosphere of the bar. Prowl was impressed by Blaster's performance, and although the red faced mech didn't seem to be that up to his partner's standards, his performance was definitely a good one; Jazz, however, impressed Prowl the most.

The black and white chevroned mech watched the three mechs sing along with each other, happy and content smiles on their faces, enjoying the time together. Prowl couldn't help himself and picked his stylus again, sketching away with a little smile on his lip components, tracing the basic details of the three mechs that sung so happily, trying to capture in his drawing those feelings of contentment and happiness that he found so inspiring.

Blaster, Jazz and the third mech finished their song, earning a round of applause from most of the patrons and even the establishment's staff. Prowl did not clap, but still smiled as he saved his sketch and subspaced his pad and stylus. Reaching to finish the few drops left of his high-grade, Prowl stood up, making his way silently out of the bar. He had no idea a pair of optics hidden behind a blue visor followed him as he left.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (2/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffyness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sentinel Prime. Mention of Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: This is a little piece for snugsbunny, inspired directly by one of her drabbles. It seems this bunny refused to stick to being three chapters only. So for now... let's leave it at 'unknown amount of parts' shall we? Hope you like

Prowl groaned softly, trying his best to tune out the currently on-going argument between the towering mech that was Sentinel Prime and the much smaller Red Alert. This was one of the not so glamorous parts of his job, to work with these two was like working chasing storms, bound to be caught in the middle of a storm threatening to drown him.

He couldn't help but wince sympathetically at Sentinel Prime's less than flattering opinion about Red Alert's demands regarding security upgrades and additional personnel. Prowl did not want to intervene in such a heated discussion, but he had to side with Red Alert on this one.

Clearing his vocal processor loud enough to gather their attention, the black and white mech turned to his superior. "Sir, with all due respect, Red Alert is right on this instance. The security upgrades he is proposing should have been implemented seven deca-cycles ago, they need to be moved to top priority."

Of course, the reason such upgrades had not been implemented in a timely fashion had to do directly with all the administrative backlog the headquarters were carrying. "Likewise, we will need new staff to cover the expanded range of the communications network. This means we'll require additional personnel or extend the regular shifts of the current staff. Needless to say, the latter would require a revision of their salary, and probably a few disgruntled faces for a couple of cycles."

Sentinel Prime frowned deeply but nodded in agreement. "All right, move the upgrades to top priority. I want those finished by the end of the next deca-cycle. Do we have the budget to hire new staff or request a couple of transfers?"

Prowl picked a data pad and stylus, quickly sifting through the data to find the approved budget assigned to the Security Forces in the city. "I do believe we have the budged to squeeze in at least three more 'bots, and perhaps request a transfer from one of the smaller agencies in the city."

"Very well, since you know I'm not much for interviewing prospects, I'll leave that to you, Prowl." Sentinel Prime turned around and headed out of the room.

Prowl's sensory panels twitched almost imperceptibly and he merely murmured an 'Of course, sir.' as the other mech left. Red Alert realized a little too late that Sentinel Prime had not signed his approval to commence the security upgrades and all but scampered out in pursuit for the wayward commander.

"There are some times I really hate my job," Prowl murmured to himself and headed back to his desk. Working with Sentinel Prime was frustrating but it wasn't entirely the other mech's fault. He was a field operative, and although a bearer of the Matrix of Leadership, he was an enforcer first and commander of the Security Forces second.

Unfortunately, the senate was extremely quirky about everything and Sentinel Prime's signature was often required in most of the official requisitions and other things that involved any little bit of currency handled. It was even harder when his superior spent most of the time he should have been devoting to administrative work doing things that were everything but administrative in nature.

This was going to be another very long cycle for him, and Prowl could barely wait for all this catching up to be done and over with for the time being. He pondered the appropriateness of getting overcharged to the pit and back after it was all over.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his musings, reaching for one of the many pads laying on neatly arranged piles of data pads that almost towered over him, Prowl granted access to whoever was waiting outside. "Can I help you?" Prowl asked without looking up from the pad, absently tapping the stylus he held on his hand against the desk.

"I'm just bringin' the reports from the sixth division. Where do ya want me t'drop 'em, sir?"

"Just set them on the third pile to your right." Prowl instructed without tearing his gaze from his work, seemingly unable to recognize the voice of the other mech.

Jazz quirked an optic ridge behind his visor, looking at the somewhat comical pile of data pads on the desk that almost completely dwarfed the other black and white mech. With a little amused smile, he handed another pad to the mech, one that required his signature to prove he received the reports.

Prowl took the pad almost by inertia and quickly slapped his signature onto the pad, handing it back without ever looking away from the other pad.

"Thanks!" Jazz waved although he knew the other wouldn't really see it. Prowl answered with a soft murmur and Jazz turned around to leave, casually looking back at the chevroned mech, his posture was stiff, proper, even his door wings seemed so tense... completely different from the relaxed mech he saw at the bar the previous cycle. As he left, Jazz wondered if Prowl would be at that little bar again at the end of his shift.

--------------------

Prowl sighed heavily and tiredly, sitting down on that favored corner where he always sat, waiting patiently for the waitress that served him regularly. He wasn't in the best of moods, truth be said. His work day had gone from bad to worse after he had to schedule some interviews for potential new staff and squeeze in some calls to look for a transfer mech or femme to take over one of the shifts on the expanded network.

The pink and black femme that usually served him came to his table, bearing a kind and sympathetic smile for him, setting down a cube with the usual brew he always ordered. Prowl thanked the femme and smiled a little, flashing a data card on the small unit she carried on her wrist, paying for his drink and leaving a tip for the kind waitress.

Once he was left to his own devices, the black and white mech extracted his sketch pad and stylus from subspace and began to scribble in one corner. The scribbles soon became small caricatures of Red Alert with pointy fangs and spikier horns spitting fire towards Sentinel Prime who sported a similar arrangement of new parts and armor melting breath.

Prowl didn't realize when it happened but soon he found a content smile spreading over his lips, his mood lifting in light of the silly doodles he had drawn in a corner, amused by his own less than flattering satire of his superior and co-worker.

With his mood already improved, Prowl saved the doodles and opened a new blank file, settling down a little more comfortably against his seat. He didn't look for any subjects to draw this time, he merely relaxed and began to trace lines at random, letting the soft music of the bar indirectly guide his hand. Soon the scattered lines became a drawing of a highway bordered by tall buildings and spiraled pathways.

At one point the music faded but was soon replaced with louder music, the melody was rather cheery, a little out of place in the bar, but he did not mind. Prowl saved his drawing and opened a new file noticing the lights were fading a little more than usual, which meant someone was on the small stage. Prowl looked up from his pad, and his sensory panels flared up a bit in surprise, recognizing another black and white mech on the stage standing before the microphone with an endearing smile on his lips.

Prowl quirked an optic ridge and watched curiously as Jazz canted a hip very slightly , tapping a foot rhythmically to the beat of the cheerful music, his rich and lovely voice filled the bar as he began to sing, quickly capturing the attention of all present.

Prowl allowed himself to just watch and listen to the mech's song, smiling just a little at the incredibly optimistic lyrics of the love song Jazz was regaling to all present. Very soon everyone was sporting a smile of contentment, finding the cheerful yet relaxing mood of the song to be too contagious. Prowl brought one end of his stylus to his lips tapping it against them for a moment or two before he brought the stylus down to his pad and began to sketch, rendering a basic outline of Jazz's cocky pose as he sung with that smile on his face that Prowl found to be really beautiful.

Jazz sung a couple of songs, even doing an encore of the first song at the patrons' request. All the time he was aware of the other black and white mech that watched him on his partly obscured corner, pad and stylus in hand. Jazz liked the way the mech looked at that moment, his sensory panels held up high as usual, but instead of the stiff look they presented, they looked more relaxed, natural, regal even, it felt more appropriate. This had to be the way the mech should always be.

Finally, Jazz left the stage, much to the patrons' disappointment, and headed for his own table, finding a high-grade cube had been left there along with a small data chip and a note from the waiter informing the drink was a courtesy from one of the patrons. Jazz looked around curiously, noticing the corner Prowl had previously occupied was now empty. A sullen mood settled upon the visored mech, having hoped for the chance to speak with the mech this time.

Jazz picked up the drink and took a small sip of it, playing with the chip between his fingers for a moment before he retrieved a display from subspace, inserting the chip on the side of the device before turning it on. He couldn't help the small gasp that left his vocal processors as the gadget flared to life, displaying a drawing of himself on the stage, singing. On the bottom corner of the drawing, written in elegant glyphs Jazz could read: "Your beautiful performance ended what was a bad cycle with a good note. Please, accept this as a humble token of gratitude for these moments of contentment."

Jazz looked for a signature anywhere on the drawing but found none; still, he felt he knew who had left this for him. Jazz turned the display off, tenderly extracting the chip, brushing his thumb gently against it before slipping it into a small compartment within his armor. He sighed contently and finished his drink in one gulp, heading out of the establishment, Jazz hoped he would get to see Prowl again the following cycle in this cozy little bar.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (3/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffyness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Inferno, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: I am noticing a trend with these drawings... Hope ya like it, Snuggles!

It were times like these when Prowl really, really, really felt this place would run smoother if he alone could take care of all the work by himself. It was a very petulant thought, he admitted readily, but having to depend on other mechs to be able to do something as simple as review the dossiers and personal records of the mechs and femmes he was about to interview to fill the new positions just made him wish he could just do it all by himself.

Earlier through the cycle he had made a few calls to request the dossiers of the candidates for transfer and those who aspired to fill the new positions in the communications network. Eight joors later, he still did not have those dossiers and records, and the only reason they were not already on his desk was because of the incompetence and indifference of the personnel working on the local archives. He could locate the files easily through the public network in less than a breem, yet it was eight joors later and the hard copies had yet to be delivered to him.

To make matters worse, due to the Senate's specifications, he didn't have automatic access to those copies, so he could only locate them, but he couldn't open the archives, thus requiring hard copies to be given to him. Highly inefficient in his opinion, but the Senate would not have it otherwise, and few others cared enough to want to push for changes to that system.

Engrossed as he was mentally cursing the ineffectiveness of the administrative personnel in other government facilities, Prowl almost didn't hear the soft knock on his door. "Come in," he answered and glared at the data pads neatly spread over his desk containing a couple of forms and schedules for the interviews. "Can I help you?"

"I'm jus' bringin' the last batch of reports from the sixth division, this should be the last load if Primus is feelin' merciful,"

Prowl looked up from his pad, recognizing the rich voice of the mech who sung so beautifully the previous cycle.

"Hi," Jazz greeted and waved his hand just a little, holding the small stack of pads with his other arm. "May I have yer signature here, please?" the black and white visored mech extracted one of the pads, handing it to Prowl.

"Yes, of course." Prowl took the pad and signed the form, handing the pad back to Jazz.

"Thanks!" Jazz beamed a smile and looked at the desk that was now almost completely clear of piles of data pads, and the visored enforcer could easily tell those pads were not even the same ones he saw the cycle prior. "Ya work fast, I don't think I've ever seen someone clear that much work in such little time!" Jazz sounded impressed and waited for Prowl to instruct him where to put the pads.

Prowl gave a small shrug. "I'm used to it. After all, this kind of work ends up on my desk at one time or another. Please set the pads there, and give my compliments to the head of the sixth division for their cooperation." Prowl nodded his thanks as Jazz set the pads down where he indicated. "I'll see to it that you're all properly compensated for this load of additional work."

Jazz's smile blossomed into a full blown grin. "Well, it helps the mechs in our division actually do their reports in a timely fashion. This could have taken a lot longer."

Prowl quirked an eyebrow, pondering if the mech was deliberately delaying his departure with the small chat. "Certainly. I believe the third division can attest to that." Prowl couldn't hold back the tone of annoyance that filtered through his voice as he spoke. That damnable third division had the largest backlog on their reports and to make matters worse, they were the slowest in catching up.

The visored mech nodded. "Yeah, used t'work there, not the most organized or dutiful of areas. M'glad I transferred to where I am now."

"Is there anything else you need, officer?" Prowl asked, not too eager to go back to his frustrating workload, but knowing he'd rather finish it as soon as possible.

Jazz shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "Not really. I was just wonderin' if ya need any help? I am done for the cycle, and I can always spare some time ta help out."

Prowl's optics narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

The other black and white mech raised his hands up in defense, sensing Prowl wasn't very appreciative of his offer at the moment. "Ya just look like you could use a hand, ya look tired, sir."

Prowl sighed heavily and brought a hand to his nose, idly trailing his index finger up and down along the bridge. "I appreciate the offer, but this is work that I have to tend to personally." he saw the other mech's smile wilt a little in disappointment and felt the need to say something to try to comfort or lift Jazz's mood. "Though, if you know anyone at the Archives that is actually interested in doing their work and have some files delivered to me already that would be wonderful." He said it as a joke, and Jazz took it for what it was, laughing softly. Prowl found the sound of Jazz's laughter to be... nice. More than just nice, but he couldn't quite give a proper adjective to it.

"I'll see what I can do fer ya," Jazz replied with a smile and turned to leave. "Don't work too hard, sir. Ya deserve a break as much as the rest of us."

Prowl allowed himself a little smile as he watched the enforcer leave his office. He let out a somewhat dreamy sigh, feeling his mood had somehow improved just by that short exchange with Jazz.

That less than a joor later a bubbly and cheerful mini-bot knocked on his door to deliver the hard copies of the records and dossiers he requested with Jazz's regards only served to further dissolve that bad mood he had been on all cycle.

------------------

He had debated whether or not he should take that detour from his route back home to that bar he had been going to today. He was feeling in good spirits and had finished his work load earlier than usual. Yet, some how he felt the need to go and drop on his favored corner for no apparent reason other than him feeling so well.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to drop by, Prowl was quick to head straight for the seat he regularly occupied, stopping cold on his tracks when he realized his usual table was occupied.

"Hi," Jazz looked up from his lone cube of high-grade and waved at the mech. "Take a seat." He invited, gesturing to the seat across from his own. When Prowl seemed hesitant between sitting down and just turning around to leave, Jazz offered a reassuring smile. "I swear I don't bite."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge, unsure of what to make of the comment, and still torn between storming out of there or accepting the slightly smaller black and white mech's invitation. He hadn't wanted anyone in the Force to know he had been coming to this bar for a few cycles now, and he feared Jazz might give away their encounter.

In the other hand it didn't seem like Jazz knew he had been coming over, perhaps it was just a coincidence Jazz was sitting on his usual table. Besides, the other mech had been quite helpful today, there was no reason to be rude by turning down his invitation.

"First time comer?" Jazz asked, surprising the chevroned mech, who replied with a soft nod. Although Jazz knew Prowl was lying, he didn't want to corner him and make him feel exposed, calm and composed as Prowl seemed, Jazz suspected if pressured Prowl had a nice and sharp set of figurative claws at his disposal if he felt threatened in any way.

Jazz's comment confirmed his supposition, although something on the back of his processors was telling him Jazz was feigning for his benefit, he choose to ignore it. He accepted the invitation and took a seat across from Jazz, the other mech called a waiter so Prowl could order something.

With new drinks delivered, Jazz decided to start some chit-chat with the other mech. Prowl found himself suddenly listening to the latest gossip around the Headquarters about any and all kind of subjects, from the rumors about who was doing what, and who was dating who to Jazz's gripping of his partying buddy, Blaster, deserting him in favor of 'fragging' his new partner, Tracks.

Prowl couldn't help but chuckle with amusement at Jazz's exaggerated expression of dejection, apparently not very appreciative of being relegated to buddy-in-wait while Blaster interfaced Tracks through the berth. And yet, Prowl could easily tell Jazz was not in the least bothered by Blaster devoting his free time entirely to his new partner, but just making a show to amuse him.

"So, where are ya from?" Jazz asked conversionaly.

"Huh?" Prowl's optics flickered in confusion for a moment, seemingly too distracted by his own thoughts. "Oh, I'm from Praxus."

"Really?" the other mech asked with interest, straightening up on his seat. "Sparked there or jus' raised?"

"sparked, created, raised and educated there." Prowl couldn't help the amusement filtering through his voice.

"Sweet! Hey, ya wanna hear a song?" Jazz's smile was threatening to take over his whole face.

"Sure."

Prowl watched the other mech head for the bar to request use of the small stage, having no problem gaining access to it from the bar's owner. When the lights dimmed a little and Jazz took to the stage, Prowl heard the first accord of a rather familiar melody. On cue, Jazz began to sing the first verses of an old song that was commonly heard in Praxus.

The song was not one of undying love, but one of nostalgia and hopefulness, it spoke of a traveler roaming the world while longing the return back home. Prowl had heard this melody many times, as merchants in ancient times sung it on the roads. Eventually it turned into a lullaby commonly sung to the newly sparked and young sparklings. Prowl himself had heard it sung to him by his spark carrier as a young sparkling.

"There will come a time when my troubles are gone, and when I shall not be all alone. 'Till then I dream of my home, sweet home." Jazz sung the last verse, his rich voice added a note of hopefulness to the verse, turning the nostalgia into an optimistic feel, and earning a round of applause from everyone once again, this time, Prowl included.

Jazz returned to the table, and they continued chatting for a while until Jazz bid him goodnight, needing to go back home to rest for his morning patrol.

Prowl returned to his own quarters, feeling oddly restless, but not in a bad way. He picked a large sketch pad he had laying on a small table and sat by his window, beginning to sketch something while quietly humming the melody of that familiar lullaby, absently wondering how Jazz knew of it. A joor later, Prowl set his pad down and headed to his sleeping chambers, a sketch of the Crystal Gardens in Praxus displayed on his large sketch pad.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (4/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Mention of Sentinel Prime, Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Don't need to elaborate much but those who know me know something unfortunate happened to my family when I was writing this chapter, and a part of it made it hard for me to work on it again and finish it until now. Again, this thing is entirely snugsbunny's fault.

All things considered, this was not the way he expected this cycle to go. It was unusual for him to let words get the best of him. In the worst of cases the comments would sting for a moment but he'd leave them behind once he dipped his head back into his work or indulged in some artwork. More often than not he merely shrugged and let the comments slide. He didn't care what others thought of him as long as he was certain what he was doing was for the best.

Yet, that comment still lingered in his CPU, nagging at him, picking on whatever degree of dissatisfaction or insecurities he stored in the deepest recess of his mind. The comment that he was not as valuable and worthy as the other members of the Force. That snarky little comment that surmised he, Prowl, did not deserve his high standing and income because he didn't put his spark in the line, like the others.

That made his spark ache with a hurt he never thought he'd ever experience. What began with having to deal with all the protocol of preparing a memorial service for a fellow officer who was lost earlier that cycle, had turned into one of the worst times Prowl had ever experienced. Only because of a whispered comment his audios picked up by casualty.

What did they know about him to speak so freely of whether or not he was as valuable as the rest of them? What did they know of the vorns he spent in training in Praxus' academy? What did they know of his vorns of service as a field operative just like them? What did they know of the trainer and partner he lost early during his time of service? Primus, what did they know about how hard he worked to distinguish himself to honor the memory of the old mech that had been his partner?

Yet, somehow, the comment stung even worse because he knew in their optics he was nothing more than that overpaid, glorified secretary that spent his life buried in administrative work that rarely, if ever, stepped out in the field anymore. They probably didn't know he was still the head of the investigative department and he worked closely with their detectives before cases were sent to the prosecutors to try criminals. When was the last time he even held his gun for something other than polish the damned thing?

Well, he could answer the last question easily, as right now he was holding his gun and taking out his newly surfaced dissatisfaction with the target drones in the firing range. He realized as he fired round after round of faux fire, that the moment he was transferred from Praxus to Iacon, he had really become Sentinel Prime's little secretary, and the enforcer he used to be was no more. That hurt. It hurt so much and made that comment sting so much more with this realization backing up their claims. Not because he considered himself unworthy or less valuable, but because he realized he was taken away from his true call, from the dream he worked so hard to make true.

A memorial service would be held in the next few joors for one of their officers, where he would be honored and his departure mourned. Where his career would be exalted, and his achievements congratulated even after his passing. Friends and family would mourn him and miss him, but he'd be remembered by all for his hard work and vorns of service. Prowl wondered if it were him the subject of the service, would someone mourn his loss? Would someone speak of his achievements and vorns of service? Would operatives look at his coffin and believe he was an asset to the Force? That his loss would leave a void in their sparks?

He doubted anyone would miss him, not even Sentinel would mourn him for long. After all, without him there, Sentinel Prime could get away from that constant nagging to perform his administrative duties and just dump them on whoever replaced him. He felt now so expendable.

"They don't understand. Don't let it get to ya." The voice he recognized as Jazz's brought him out of his bitter musings. Prowl turned around to face Jazz for a moment, giving a shrug before he turned his attention back at the firing range.

"They are free to think anything they want as long as it doesn't interfere with their work or mine" he replied in that perfectly schooled tone of his that meant business. Jazz had quickly labeled it as the 'professional' tone, the attitude Prowl would take at work. Jazz didn't like it in the least.

"It still bothered ya," Jazz pointed and watched the other black and white mech take aim again. "I can see why, though, that was a really mean thing t'say about someone."
Prowl shrugged again, drawing a frown from Jazz, though it went unseen because of the visor. "I suppose they think they deserve a better pay and more recognition because they do put their life in the line." Why he was defending their actions he didn't know.

"Silly me, here I thought we all joined because we were trying to do the right thing, to make things better for others. Ya know, that silly idea of protectin' the innocents an' all the nice words." Jazz's voice dripped sarcasm as he crossed his arms over his chest plates, a deep frown painted over his features.

"While that is true, being able to sustain ones’ self is also crucial." Prowl fired another round of faux shots. "I've been an officer too, Jazz. Comparatively, what income I receive now and what I earned back then--"

"Now wait a moment," Jazz interrupted and closed the distance between them, holding Prowl's gun get his full attention. "Ya work a lot, an' just because yer not out there in the field catchin' the bad guys don't mean your work is less important than mine. Primus, ya work more than a lot of us!"

"Why would you care?" Prowl winced mentally, realizing his words came out harsher than he had meant. "I apologize, that was rude."

"Nah, it's understandable." Jazz smiled, seemingly genuinely unaffected by the other mech's tone. "I've been here for a while, ya know? Before you were here things were different, not as smooth as they go now. A mech can feel yer presence here, if attention is paid. Plus, I admit I am intrigued."

"Intrigued?" Prowl quirked an optic ridge finally lowering his gun.

"Yeah, Blaster says good things about ya. An' how ya got such patience t'deal with all the slag that comes with the position." the visored mech shrugged. "T'be honest, I saw ya a couple o' times by accident an' ya always looked so tense, so formal. An' when I saw ya off duty you were a totally different mech, and that is intriguing."

"He does?" Prowl couldn't hold back the amusement that slipped in his tone. "I assume that's because he works with Red Alert on a daily basis."

"Oh, you have no idea. Poor mech, sometimes I wonder how Tracks can keep up with him. Deactivation by interfacing's gotta be one of the most embarrassing ways to go!" Jazz leered prompting an optic ridge quirk from Prowl. That was information he did not need to know.

Jazz couldn't help but laugh at the other mech's expression. His infectious laughter prompted a tiny, almost imperceptible smile from his superior, his wings relaxed minutely, and for a few moments the professional Prowl was forgotten.

Taking advantage of the moment, the visored black and white asked. "This is goin' to sound disrespectful, but ya got any plans after the service?"

Prowl sobered once more and shook his head. "I still have to finish some work for Sentinel Prime, plus must prepare the questionnaires for those interviews I have tomorrow." he could almost see Jazz's mood wilt at his words.

"After that yer still goin' ta work?" Jazz muttered in a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

"Officer," Prowl addressed the other mech in his best formal tone, watching Jazz straighten up and adopting a formal attitude of his own. "Why are you asking this question?"

Jazz couldn't help but shrug. "I don't know, I guess I would like to be your friend?"

"Why?"

"No reason."

"That makes no sense."

Jazz smiled a little. "I've been told a few times I make no sense." His smile widened when Prowl's lip components curved a little, fighting back a full fledged smile. "But if ya want a reason, I guess it's because I like you."

Prowl's optics flickered in confusion a few times. "You... what?"

"I told you I found ya intriguing. I enjoyed talkin' with ya at that place. I liked it an' I would like ta repeat the experience." Jazz shrugged again. "Besides, I still think ya could use a friend."

Prowl pondered over those words for a moment. He did enjoy the time he spent with Jazz at the bar. His amiable chatter, the wonderful, soothing voice, the cheerful and uplifting mood he seemed to set wherever he went. Did he have a reason to deny Jazz his wish to seek his friendship? After a few more moments, Prowl looked back at Jazz. "If you'd like we can have some high grade after the service. But afterwards I must return to my office to finish that pending job."

Jazz's subsequent smile was so bright Prowl could have sworn the place illuminated enough to require optical protectors.

---------------------

The service was just as he had expected: long winding speeches by those who had served with the deceased officer, a curt, quick and to the point speech by Sentinel Prime addressing the importance of every single member of the force and all respective honors that were to be bestowed upon the casket and the traditional 'Till all are one'.

Sentinel Prime did not linger around for long, and neither did many of the higher ranking officers, while the other field operatives remained for a little longer, talking with the family of their lost comrade. Prowl could feel a certain air of tension, the almost despondent attitude that could be felt among the officers, as if ranks separated them like social classes did.

Still, Jazz did not allow him to mull over that for long, and after paying their respects to the officer and some words with the family and friends, the visored mech pulled him away to have some warm energon at small, cozy shop. They chatted some more, Jazz talked about his sparklinghood, what drove him to become an enforcer, and his goals within the force. Prowl shared his own stories, his background in Praxus, tales about his old partner and how much the old mech's teachings and philosophy influenced his work and career.

Although they had to part too soon, Prowl admitted he enjoyed the time spent with Jazz so much, and that left him with a rather cheery mood that not even the remaining workload of the cycle could damper that good mood.

Back in his living unit, the black and white chevroned mech sat back by his window, sketch pad and stylus in hand and began to sketch again. This time a rather unusual piece, as he was part of the sketch he was drawing, something he rarely did. The sketch depicted him and Jazz sitting across each other in the outdoors tables of the small shop, steaming energon mixes held casually between black and white fingers as the two chatted. Both feeling comfortable and at peace despite the gloom start of that cycle.

Prowl saved his sketch and pondered whether to gift it to Jazz or not. Ultimately, he decided he wasn't ready to share this part of his life with his new friend just yet and kept the drawing to himself. As he made his way to his berth, Prowl thought about the cycle's developments, and smiled to himself --for the first time since the passing of his old partner, Prowl had a friend, and that felt good.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (5/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And this is the part where we do a 'time warp' *refrains from doing a pelvic thrust here* to a couple of months later. As usual this thing is completely snugsbunny's fault. S'all hers~ By the way. Any kind soul out there is willing to beta this series?

If there was a kind of mood Prowl never thought he could associate with Jazz, it would be unhappy. Yet unhappy is exactly what Jazz was at the very moment.

Through deca-cycles, the slightly smaller black and white enforcer had become his best friend in all senses of the word. They shared so much of their lives and their friendship had grown to become so close that each other had become a key factor in each other's lives, a presence that filled their daily routine with something to look up to even when everything else could be going wrong.

Prowl had had a few friends in the past, back in Praxus, and he could guess Red Alert counted as friend, even if they rarely talked about anything but work with each other; but the relationship he had with them and the relationship with Jazz were as different as light and shadows. He could confide in Jazz, talk about his problems and worries freely without fearing to be judged, and he admitted he enjoyed being the same for Jazz, to hear his friend talk and share his cycle to cycle doings, adventures and tales. To be there to hear Jazz out when he needed comfort, or someone to share a good laugh with.

So, it was only natural that now Prowl wanted to know what bothered his friend, wanting to push away what troubles weighted him and offer comfort to him, bring that charming smile back into his lips.

"What's troubling you?" Prowl asked and sat across from Jazz's table in the refueling area of the headquarters. Prior to meeting Jazz and their becoming friends, Prowl usually refueled in his office, but now he took to coming to the public refueling area to have his energon with Jazz, albeit still huddling himself in a corner to avoid catching more attention.

Jazz looked listless for a moment but looked up once he saw Prowl's hand setting his own cube on the table. "What makes ya think I'm troubled?" Jazz knew by now he couldn't lie to Prowl, but he tried not to worry his friend out of habit.

Prowl shook his head and smiled just a little bit, just enough for Jazz to see. "Jazz, your whole demeanor just irradiates how unhappy and bothered you are. What's wrong?"

Jazz smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his helm. "Well, I'm in a bit of a tight spot right now. You know of my roommate, right?"

At Prowl's nod, Jazz shifted uneasily. "See, we've been havin' problems lately. We ain't getting along well and it's got ta the point he wants me outta there at the earliest convenience."

Prowl raised an optic ridge. He was aware Jazz, like many mechs in the force, lived in a complex close to the Headquarters provided by the Senate. Because of that, most field operatives had to share their living arrangements with one or two more mechs, depending on the size of the unit. To request a change of living unit was a process Prowl knew to be lengthy, and more often than not the personnel in charge of the placement would attempt to convince (and sometimes force) the conflicting parts to remain in the same unit.

"Is there any particular reason you two don't get along? Can't your schedules be changed perhaps? I can arrange--"

Jazz shook his head. "No, Prowl, I wouldn't feel good knowin' ya changin' things on my behalf."

Prowl frowned a little, he knew Jazz meant well but he didn't appreciate the implication he was going to abuse his position to help a friend like that. "You know I'd do this for anyone who'd request it, Jazz. I'm not playing favorites."

Jazz smiled sheepishly again, catching right away the slight hint of annoyance in the other's voice. "I'm sorry, Prowl, I didn't mean it like that. In any case, the problem's we really want nothin' ta do with each other, an' he's hoggin' quite a bit of our shared quarters as it is."

"So you're going to request a change?"

The visored mech shrugged, his smile fading again into a troubled scowl. "Not sure. I've been thinkin' about getting' my own place, but that can take as much time as waitin' to be assigned ta new quarters." Jazz picked his energon cube and took a sip, deep in thought. "I don't think I can stay at m'quarters much longer, so I've been lookin' for a temporary place until I find an adequate unit."

"That could be too costly, though." Prowl picked his own cube and took a sip, watching his friend's shoulders slump visibly. "I know, but I don't know what else I can do at th'moment. Blaster offered ta let me stay with him, but I know Tracks is livin' with him, an' I'd feel like I'm intruding."

Prowl nodded, understanding Jazz's reluctance to accept the communications officer's offer. Finding a place to live in a city like Iacon wasn't necessarily difficult, but finding an affordable place close enough to the headquarters was a different issue. Most of the best complexes were controlled by the Senate to accommodate the majority of their field operatives. Sentinel Prime's quarters were located in a restricted area within the Headquarters and the rest of the high ranking officers like himself and Red Alert were located in one of the most luxurious and spacious complexes. Prowl's quarters probably triplicated in size those of the field operatives, if his old quarters in Praxus were anything to go by.

He had plenty of room, a refueling station where he could prepare, consume and store energon; a large living room, an ample wash rack with a tub, and two spare rooms in addition to his own dorm, one of which was turned into a small studio of sorts where his art supplies were kept. That left one room completely unused, and before he could fully think about it, his vocal processor voiced an offer. "If you're pressed for a place to stay, I have a spare room in my unit and it's closer to Headquarters."

Jazz sat straighter and cast what Prowl assumed to be a surprised look at him. The smaller black and white didn't speak for a while, seemingly pondering the unexpected offer. "Ya sure? It wouldn't be a problem?" Jazz asked finally, sounding a little unsure and hesitant.

Prowl nodded reassuringly. "Not at all. As I said, it's an unused room, all it needs it's some cleaning." However, Jazz still seemed hesitant to accept the offer. "In reality, it's your best option. It's closer so you can probably recharge a little longer, you'd be staying with a friend, and it wouldn't cost anything to you, which would be most convenient if you intend to afford a place of your own."

"I don't like takin' things jus' fer free, ya know?" Jazz smiled a little, and Prowl could tell despite his words, Jazz had taken the decision to accept his offer. "Just don't torture me with loud music too late through the cycle and get your own energon goodies and I'm happy." the taller black and white teased.

Jazz laughed, his face brightening, thankful beyond words for Prowl's help."It's a deal, then. I promise it'll be just until I find a place for myself."

Prowl allowed himself to smile a little, just enough for Jazz to see. "When do you want to move in?"

"As soon as possible!" the smaller black and white threw his arms up in the air in excitement before reaching for his cube, drinking down the remaining contents in one gulp. "Better get goin', gotta finish those reports! Thanks a lot, Prowl." Jazz reached to squeeze his friend's white hand before he exited the room, his carefree, easy step now back in full swing. Prowl watched his friend go, feeling rather pleased with himself for being able to help the mech that had done so much good to him.

---------------------

Moving in was definitely a chaotic experience no matter how well planned it could be. In the end, Blaster and Tracks showed up to help and Prowl was surprised to see the amount of personal effects Jazz possessed. Because Jazz had a room mate, Prowl had never been in his quarters, most of the time they met in the common areas in the Force's headquarters or went to bars and small shops with some chats through comm-links. He always suspected Jazz was the kind to fill his home with little trinkets and various decorations, but he was still surprised about the many storage containers he had brought with him.

Thankfully, the spare room was fitted with a berth and it was large enough to fit two mechs just fine, which allowed plenty of room for Jazz to decorate as he saw fit. Still, Jazz insisted about unloading only the most necessary items, leaving the storage units huddled against a corner. A video screen, a sound system, and a desk with a portable terminal were the only things Jazz allowed himself to move into the room.

Prowl gave Jazz free reign over the living unit with the exception of his dorm and the third room he claimed was currently used as an storage unit. Jazz was content with the arrangement and the pair spent the first night with them living under the same roof devouring the small special treats Jazz brought as a token of his appreciation for Prowl's kindness.

It had been a fun time they spent together, Jazz jokingly sharing some of the most sordid tales about his former room mate and the reasons they couldn't get along. Prowl was surprised someone didn't like Jazz to the point of wanting him out of their living unit, but then after listening to his temporary room mate, Prowl was sure there was no one that other mech would want to have as room mate. He made a mental note to tend to review the officer's profile, knowing as soon as Jazz reported his leaving, someone else would be sent to live there, and he wanted to make sure the new roommate would be at least compatible enough to avoid displeasure within the ranks.

As time for recharge neared, Jazz left for his new room and Prowl headed back to his own dorm. He sat on the berth, leaning against the wall and picked a sketch pad he had left laying around earlier that cycle. He admonished himself about leaving these things around so carelessly now that Jazz was staying with him. Nonetheless, he flipped through the contents of his pad, finding the picture he had been working on the previous cycle and smiled to himself. Prowl picked his stylus once more and began to refine the sketch. It was quite humorous --a depiction of Jazz mounting a large stack of storage units, pointing forward while behind him, standing with a lone crate and few meagre belongings, Jazz's former roommate was left alone with an empty room.

Chuckling to himself, Prowl saved the drawing and subspaced the sketchpad, turning off the small lamp by his berth and laid down to get some rest of his own. As the lull of recharge claimed him, he couldn't help but wonder what was going to be like to have Jazz as roommate, even if it was temporary.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (6/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: This part is fluffimus to the max. Beware of potential cavities or fluffy afros. As usual, this is snugsbunny's fault.

Jazz couldn't remember a time when he had to engage in something like this. He didn't know Prowl actually liked to make his own treats when the time allowed it. He always thought Prowl was the practical kind who would just grab some snacks from a favored vendor and have his energon from the dispensers in the Headquarters, like he did.

But that wasn't the case. In fact, Prowl stated he preferred to make his own when he could because it was most cost effective, although he still indulged in expensive treats from time to time. The first time he caught Prowl 'in the act' he had been surprised to see all the utensils he had acquired for the task carefully spread over the counter while he worked. Prowl had offered him a couple of finished treats to go with some warm energon before they left for work, and Jazz couldn't help but feel a little too cozy enjoying such kind of meal. He couldn't remember the last time he actually sat down to enjoy some energon this way since he enrolled in the academy to become an enforcer.

Now, here he was, after two Deca-cycles of staying with Prowl and little success with his living unit hunting, the visored mech decided to try to repay his friend's kindness with some home made treats of his own. A task that sounded easy enough in the theory but was turning out to be everything but in the practice.

Jazz grumbled and muttered a low curse for the tenth time that cycle, trying with poor results to keep the mixture soft enough to be properly shaped, yet solid enough to be actually picked up. So far his efforts were being met with failure, and the energon mix was barely solid enough to not flow around in a puddle like liquid energon would.

"You need to add more of the blue powdered mix."

Prowl's voice startled Jazz, prompting a little jump of surprise as he turned around to see his room mate looking at him with an amused smile on his lips. "I didn't expect ya t'be up yet." Jazz cast a quick glance at the chronometer on the wall, it was almost a joor before both of them would normally leave their berths.

"The noise woke me," Prowl said absently as he cast a glance over the counter, finding all his utensils spread out in a complete mess along with the ingredients for the energon treats.

Jazz rubbed the back of his helm sheepishly. "I was tryin' ta make us some treats, but... it looked easier when I saw ya doin' it."

Prowl chuckled softly, and shook his head, nudging Jazz to step aside for a moment. The smaller black and white did as he was asked and watched Prowl reach for the utensils and begin to re-arrange them on the counter top. Once he was satisfied with the placement of all the materials he crooked a finger, calling Jazz close. "This is a measuring spoon, Jazz. Use it." He teased as he pointed at the aforementioned utensil.

"I did! But the instructions didn't say more than jus' a couple o' spoons, not how many exactly and how much is a spoonful." Jazz huffed.

Prowl picked the measuring spoon and pointed at a series of small protrusions on the inside wall in the tool. "For this particular size, the spoonful is marked by the third line."

"Oh." Jazz scratched one of his helm horns and watched his friend collect the desired amount of powder and sprinkled it evenly over the mix Jazz had been working on. "Now, add a little more of that one, just a small amount, whatever you can grab with two fingers." Jazz did what he was told and sprinkled the second type of powder into the mix.

"How much oil you've put in the mix already?" Prowl asked, pressing his fingertips gently against the mixture to test its consistency.

"About three capfuls I think."

"All right. Now," the taller black and white took his friend's hands, sprinkling them with some of the same blue powder he spread on the mixture and guided the dusty black hands to the mixture. "Just mix with your fingers firmly, keep rolling it around so all the ingredients incorporate properly."

Jazz did as he was told, occasionally looking up to Prowl for confirmation he was doing it right. Prowl instructed him to arrange the utensils in a certain way so he'd be able to remember where was each tool. "How did ya learn t'do this anyway?" Jazz asked casually.

Prowl shrugged. "Necessity is a powerful motivator."

"Yeah, I bet." Jazz laughed a little and continued his work. Half a joor later, the goodies were done and Prowl cleaned the counter and began to prepare some warm, sweetened energon for themselves while Jazz washed himself.

Once Jazz was clean, Prowl took over the wash rack and Jazz served the goodies he had prepared. He sampled one and frowned a little. Although they had managed to salvage the mixture and make it edible enough, his weren't as good tasting as Prowl's.

"It takes some time to get them right, you know?" Prowl said as he walked into the small dinning area and sat besides his friend, reaching for his warm energon and picking one of the far from perfectly shaped goodies.

Jazz watched Prowl nibble on the small treat absently. "I guess I gotta practice more, huh?" Prowl cast a little smile for his friend, one that recently was making Jazz's spark do a little flip within its case. Prowl's hand laying on top of his own to give it a gentle squeeze brought him back from the mini trance he had slipped into.

"Everything takes practice. And if you wish, I can teach you." Prowl's smile widened a little.

The visored mech smiled back, nodding with excitement. "I'd like that."

"I'll get some ingredients on my way back home, I believe your patrol shift ends a little later than usual today, so it should give me time to have everything ready." With that, both mechs proceeded to drink their energon and finish the goodies Jazz made and readied themselves to head to work.

---------------------------

Prowl sighed a little to himself, absently going through the rows of stacks containing the different kinds of ingredients and mixes to make sweet treats, trying to decide what to get. He picked several things almost at random, deciding he might as well re-stock whatever supplies he was low in anyway.

As he neared the counter to pay for his purchases, his optics swept over the small section with a selection of book files available. He smiled when he found a recipe book and decided to acquire a copy and gift it to Jazz, after all he'd need it when he moved into his own place. Somehow the thought of Jazz moving felt wrong, despite being room mates for a little over two deca-cycles, Jazz's presence had become part of Prowl's routine and he enjoyed his company.

With a soft sigh, Prowl purchased the supplies and book file and headed back to his living unit. He headed for the cooking area and subspaced his purchases, neatly arranging everything that was to be stored within the cabinets, then set aside the ingredients and utensils on the counter. With that done, Prowl headed to the living room and sat on his favorite couch, waiting for Jazz.

As if summoned by his thoughts, his comm-link came to life. "Hey, Prowl?" Jazz's voice sounded a bit strained and high pitched, prompting Prowl to sit up straighter. "Yes? You're all right Jazz?"

"Yeah, just chashin' a miscreant, here. I'll be back a lil' later than expected."

Prowl couldn't help the worried frown that took over his features. "Is everything all right there? Do you need any assistance?"

"Nah, I'm fine, it's just a younglin' thinkin' he's indestructible and doin' some crazy acrobatics. Got my patrol partner here so we're fine. Kid's fast, but I'm faster!" Prowl could practically see the smile on his friend's face and relaxed, shaking his head as if the other could see it. "All right, Jazz. Just be careful, will you?"

"I'll be fine, I ain't lettin' the kid ruin that goodie makin' fun with ya. Jazz out!"

Prowl shook his head again and leaned back against the arm of the couch, since Jazz wasn't coming back for a while he decided to make himself comfortable and pulled his legs a little closer to his chest, extracting his sketch pad and stylus from subspace and opened a blank file. He began to scribble lines at random, not sure what he wanted to draw just yet. It was too quiet in his home and normally he was happy with that, but since Jazz moved in at this hour the field operative would have some music playing softly and Prowl had grown used to it. He set his pad and stylus down and headed for Jazz's room looking for the music player, he fumbled with the device and smiled a little when he found a melody Jazz had been playing the previous cycle that Prowl had liked.

Satisfied with his findings and setting the melody in replay, Prowl headed back to his couch, leaving Jazz's door open to allow the music to filter gently into the living room. He sat down and made himself comfortable again, picking the pad and stylus he brought the latter to his lip components for a moment before he began to sketch. The sketch seemed to be just the drawing of a series of buildings and streets, but soon enough he sketched a couple of vehicles traversing the streets at high speeds.

The first one wasn't anyone in particular, just a mix and match of different vehicle modes he could remember at the moment. The largest, though, he knew very well. He decorated Jazz's alternate mode with all the details he could remember clearly. He always thought Jazz had a very outstanding alternate mode. It was long and lithe and stylish, just like his friend was. The white paint gleamed beautifully under the artificial lights just when he drove at a sedated pace. He could only imagine what it would look like when he traveled at full speed in the middle of a chase.

His drawing was dynamic, trying to depict the acrobatics and maneuvers he knew his friend was capable of during a chase. He added a third vehicle, which represented Jazz's current patrol partner. He added as much detail into the third vehicle as he could remember, wanting his piece to depict the two officers at work as realistically as he could.

Shortly after he finished his piece and had subspaced his tools, Jazz arrived, looking rather worn out but definitely happy to be back home. Prowl prodded his friend to wash himself while he poured him a small cube of high grade. With Jazz all clean and feeling more relaxed, Prowl presented Jazz with the book file and together they worked in one of the recipes. Prowl thought both trying something new would help Jazz to feel a bit more confident in case the treats didn't end up being as delicious as they hoped.

The recipe was quite simple and few ingredients were required, leaving little mess to be cleaned. Once the treats were cool enough to be sampled, both sat down to enjoy the goodies and a mild brew high-grade while they sat on couch in the living room, watching the news feeds until Jazz fell into recharge right in the couch, obviously worn out after an exhausting cycle.

Prowl smiled at his sleeping friend who was resting his head against his shoulder in an angle that was everything but comfortable. Turning off the vid screen, the chevroned mech decided he didn't want to wake Jazz and carefully picked his friend, taking him back to his room so he could recharge properly, heading back into his own room to get some rest himself. As he laid on his berth, he couldn't help but smile contently, he had a wonderful time, and he admitted he almost wished Jazz would stay with him for a long time.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (7/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness. A little Angst. You may wanna bring tissues just in case.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: It would appear this series intends to be a bit long, and you can thank that on snugsbunny because she keeps encouraging the plunnies. One of the parts below was heavily inspired -and pretty much borrowed- from one of ante_luce's fics.

Jazz was convinced somewhere Primus was probably getting a good laugh at his expense. His original intention to stay with Prowl for only a couple of Deca-cycles at most was shot down by the sheer impossibility of finding a good place to live by himself.

He was tired of looking for good prospects only to have his hopes shot down by either ridiculous quotes to pay, horrible location, or downright bad luck. When he had finally found a place that suited his needs, the owners of the place had an emergency of sorts and the living unit was being lent to friends of them and Jazz was left without a home of his own yet again.

To make matters worse, he had been living with Prowl for almost a Meta-cycle now, and Jazz was torn admitting he almost didn't want to leave anymore. It wasn't just the fact that it was a convenient arrangement for him, it was also that... well, he was really enjoying to live with Prowl and not only because they were good friends.

The truth of the matter was that the reason he still pursued a house of his own was because he felt like he was freeloading on his friend, which wasn't really the truth since they shared expenses; and because he realized his feeling towards Prowl had changed, and they had changed a lot.

He couldn't even tell when it happened exactly, but for a while now, his spark fluttered with happiness when he was with Prowl. Their friendly arguments, the time they spent together making energon goodies for each other, the times they would just sit down in the couch and chat or watch something in the video screen. Jazz felt a sense of completion he had never felt in his life, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was no longer thinking about Prowl just like his best friend. The thought terrified him at first, when did he fall so hard for his friend? Sure, he always thought Prowl was a good looking mech, and the idea of casual interfacing with him had surfaced once or twice in his processors when he saw him in that bar the first time, but his feelings had never been this deep in regards to Prowl.

As they became friends, that thought of casual interfaces and the likes had been completely forgotten. It became all about sharing time with him and enjoying his company. It was about those little smiles Prowl had just for him, and that made Jazz feel special in a way, feel privileged to see this side of Prowl. There was attraction, he knew that much, he knew he found Prowl to be handsome, but somehow the idea it was just an attraction what was causing those little flutters in his spark just seemed wrong. He felt Prowl could have been the most deformed and unattractive mech in the world, and his smile could still make his spark do that flip within its case. Jazz was in love with Prowl and there was no two ways around it.

And there in laid the problem. He had no idea if Prowl returned his feelings, and he couldn't think of a way that could help him determine if Prowl even liked him that way, if Prowl even held any attraction for him. And whenever he thought about that, he had mixed feelings about the issue. He didn't want Prowl to just feel attracted to him, he wanted Prowl to love him madly as Jazz loved Prowl.

But if there wasn't even an attraction between the two, if Prowl didn't even look at Jazz and thought he was attractive... Jazz didn't want to risk a wonderful friendship just because his feelings for Prowl had shifted in nature, and the only way to solve that was to get his aft out of Prowl's home, put a healthy distance between themselves and hope that distance would make his feelings more bearable.

But fate seemed hell bent in keeping him stuck in Prowl's home with these growing feelings that refused to back down now that Jazz had admitted their existence. When he had finally found a place he thought could be his and where he could huddle away and not compromise the friendship he and Prowl shared, all his plans came tumbling down when the negotiation was abruptly cancelled.

So, here he was, trying to decide what to do now. Should he just give up and just ask for a transfer? He could ask Blaster to house his belongings for a couple of cycles and he could stay at a nearby hotel until his transfer was finalized. He knew that could easily drain his finances, but he had plenty of savings to last him for at least another meta-cycle.

He decided at that moment it was the best thing he could do for his own sake and that of the beautiful friendship he cherished. With his mind made, Jazz began to collect what belongings he had unpacked when he moved into the room Prowl appointed for him in his living unit. He would inform Prowl of his decision later that cycle when his friend would return from an important meeting that'd keep him in the headquarters until late.

-----------------------

Prowl played with the cube of high grade he held between his white fingers, feeling all traces of his good mood all but gone. He had come home late from a meeting that had been long and tedious, but arriving at his home to spend time with Jazz and refuel together and unwinding by talking with him and venting his frustration always put him in a good mood.

And it had been as uplifting as he had hoped, up until the moment Jazz announced he was moving out. He was discouraged by his poor luck in finding a place to live and decided to just request a transfer at the Headquarters. Prowl insisted Jazz could stay with him for as long as he needed, but the smaller black and white would have none of it. To add insult to injury, Jazz claimed he didn't want to keep freeloading off him and announced he had packed his belongings and said he would be staying at an hotel until his transfer was finalized, informing him Blaster would store his effects until then.

Prowl felt devastated. He wondered, as he played with his cube of high-grade if he had done anything to upset his dear friend. It made no sense whatsoever that Jazz would just want to leave, not even allowing him to store his effects for him, despite having plenty of room, unlike Blaster. By that logic, the only reason he could think Jazz would want to go would be because he didn't want to be around him anymore. He must have done something that upset his friend, but what could it be?

He set the cube down in the counter top, he didn't feel like drinking it anymore. For a while now he had been thinking about asking Jazz to just stay with him permanently. He had the room to spare, his living unit was a luxury provided by the senate so very little was really deducted from his generous salary, and if Jazz didn't want to feel he was freeloading, he could simply split the costs with him.

The past Meta-cycle in Jazz's company had done so much good to him, he was generally happy, and even the stress his work could lay on him due to the very unhelpful boss he worked for was quickly dispelled by his friend's company. He had realized not long ago that Jazz has become more than just his best friend. His presence was now a welcomed constant in his life, a presence that filled something in his life and made him feel complete.

Jazz's charming smile, cheerfulness and attentiveness always made his spark beat a little bit faster. When he realized just what an important part of his life Jazz had become, Prowl tried to dissect the nature of those feelings that were so much stronger now. He had always know he found Jazz to be attractive, a sight to behold. What artistic talent he possessed always presented Jazz to him as a living masterpiece that pranced through the streets of Iacon, underappreciated like the true work of art he was. Well, the last part wasn't entirely true, he knew Jazz had quite a few admirers, and more than once he had been witness to a few times co-workers had invited Jazz out for a drink.

Strangely, he always found those invitations... inappropriate in some ways. He could see with those keen optics of his there was more to the invitations than just wanting to spend some good time in Jazz's company. He felt Jazz's true charms and wonderful personality were, at least partly, ignored in behalf of his attractive exterior. Oh, he knew the kind of offers that would follow after a couple of cubes of cheap high grade, and he knew because it wasn't uncommon for him to hear those very same invitations occurring in that little cozy bar he favored.

Hushed whispers proposing a quick detour to a nearby hotel to spend a 'good time together'. A quick, impersonal interface, just about some selfish pleasure and a good time for a few moments, and then... then what? Prowl always felt Jazz deserved better than just being approached for a good time because he was a very attractive mech.

Jazz apparently knew that, too, because most of time he declined the invitations. Sure, he loved going to bars and parties and be the life of the party, and surely he knew Jazz wasn't immune to accept a casual interface himself, but for the most part, Jazz preferred to make friends than berth hop.

And during those times he pondered over such things, Prowl realized while he definitely found Jazz attractive and beautiful, it wasn't his external appearance what interested him the most. He was drawn to Jazz, to all of him, to the way his smile always looked so pure, so bright. To his boisterous personality that seemed to suffice for the both of them, his passion for what he did, his sneaky ways to get his point across. He loved the way Jazz made him feel, he made him feel cared for, liked, that he mattered for who he was and accepted despite his deficiencies. He loved Jazz, and wanted to keep loving him forever, even if Jazz did not feel the same way about him.

Now, however, he feared not for unrequited love, but for a wonderful friendship that he had grown to cherish and hold close to his spark; to end in a bitter note. What had he done that upset Jazz so much? Was there any way he could make it up to him? Anything to save that beautiful friendship?

Prowl headed quietly to his room, daring a quick look at the door to Jazz's before he disappeared into his own room. He lay carelessly on his own, barely mindful of his wings as he considered his options.

Restless, he climbed down and headed for his studio, collecting a couple of items quietly before he retreated back to his room. There he sat down by his window, turning on a small lamp to cast some light in the room. He picked an unused sketch pad and retrieved the one he always carried with him in subspace. He flipped through different files, transferring copies of his chosen pieces to a data chip which he inserted in the unused pad to download the copies.

With that done, he searched for one of the sketches, the picture he had drawn that cycle of the memorial service depicting both of them sitting on outdoors tables of that small shop. He picked a different kind of stylus and tapped the tip against a corner which displayed a selection of colors. Pressing the tip against his chosen color, the chevroned mech began to color the sketch, working diligently for joors.

----------------------

Jazz felt as if his spark was revolting against him, to the point he was feeling physically ill. He had asked to be allowed to leave early so he could pick his belongings and take them to Blaster's unit where Tracks would wait for him to store them. He wanted to do this when Prowl wasn't around just to eliminate obstacles that could make him back down at the last moment and say "I'll stay." when he said good bye to Prowl.

It almost felt like a separation, like breaking up a relationship that did not exist. Although in reality he was only moving out, he was still Prowl's friend, he would always consider him his best friend, and he had no intention of stopping their outings together, just stop living under the same roof. Yet, he felt his spark shattering by the mere idea, telling him this shouldn't be.

He forced himself to haul a fourth small crate to the living room and dropped himself on the couch, bringing his hands to his face and rubbing away the sparkache. Only then he noticed absently the unusual object that laid before him on the little table. It was a thin silvery box, with his name engraved on the soft metal.

His curiosity was piqued and he reached to take the small box, tracing his fingers idly over the glyphs that spelled his name, recognizing the elegant calligraphy as Prowl's. He undid a latch on the side of the box, removing the top so he could see its contents. He was surprised to find a data pad, and extracted it carefully, turning the display on. He found a file list and he pressed a finger gently over the first file.

Jazz gasped in surprise when the file opened to reveal a drawing of the Force's Headquarters. He opened a second file and this time he was greeted by a sketch of himself sitting on top of a large amount of crates, pointing forward with a big, excited smile and his former room mate staying behind in an empty room with a few scattered possessions. He couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at the humorous drawing, and he opened the next file.

This time it was a drawing of himself, standing behind the counter top, dust of goodie ingredients covering his frame messily and his expression was one of total cluelessness. Jazz's smile grew a little more, stroking a finger fondly along one of his horns in the drawing, completely covered in powder.

The next file was of Prowl and himself over energized, Prowl giving him his patented 'you are insane' look while sitting with his legs crossed on the floor as Jazz balanced on a single hand doing silly acrobatics.

One by one, Jazz opened each file, discovering landscapes of different places, drawings of himself or Prowl that were almost like snapshots hand drawn of special moments in their lives. Finally, Jazz reached the last file, feeling sad this was the last one.

He couldn't hold back a small sound, almost like a mewl as he looked into the rich colors of the only colored piece in the pad. It was a drawing of himself and Prowl sitting together outside of that shop they went to when Prowl first accepted to go out with him. He couldn't help but wonder at that moment if he was really that beautiful in Prowl's optics.

His optics skirted to the bottom of the drawing, finding a message written on the right corner.

'I find myself at loss, wondering what it is that I did to upset you. I have tried to pin point where is it I did harm to our wonderful friendship, but I just cannot figure it out. I suppose now there's nothing left for me to lose, and if our friendship is truly over, then let this be the last nail to seal the coffin. I will miss you dearly, and I am thankful for all the wonderful moments you've graced my life with.

Forgive me for my boldness, but I must make a final confession. I love you, Jazz.'

Jazz couldn't hold back the sob that left his vocal processor, holding tight onto the pad as everything became clear to him. Prowl thought he was angry with him and that he wanted to end their friendship. He felt guilt pilling up within him, a sense of self loathing for hurting the one he loved with all his spark. Yet, at the same time, in an odd kind of mercy, he was granted confirmation his feelings were returned in kind.

He sat there, pressing his forehead against the frame of the pad, dental plates clenched tightly as he fought to rein in the torrent of emotion that washed over him. Prowl loved him. Prowl loved him.

He didn't know how long he sat there, pressing his forehead to the pad, until he forced himself to set it down, feeling the tears that trickled down along his cheeks as he could no longer contain his emotions.

"Jazz?"

Jazz turned around at the almost timid question, looking at the entrance where Prowl stood with an unreadable expression.

"Prowl," Jazz whispered the name like a prayer. He set the pad down and moved quickly, ducking around the crates he had left on the floor until he was standing before Prowl. "I'm sorry!"

Prowl's optics brightened with confusion, why was Jazz apologizing to him? "Jazz, what's wrong?" He asked with concern clear in his voice and his blue optics. Jazz shook his head, reaching behind his helm and pressing his black fingers against the back of his helm, adding just the perfect amount of pressure. A clicking sound was soon followed by the quick swoosh of Jazz's visor retracting.

Prowl couldn't help the small sound that left his vocal processor, seeing for the first time past the visor into the smaller mech's optics. Despite the tears welling in, they were so bright and beautiful, and Prowl felt his spark beating faster, humbled by the opportunity to gaze into those gorgeous optics, and see fully that beautiful face.

"I'm sorry Prowl," Jazz murmured, bringing his hands to cup the other mech's cheeks. "I didn't mean to hurt ya. I... I ain't upset with you. I was just... I was afraid."

"Afraid?" Prowl asked almost in a trance, unable to tear his gaze away from those bright optics revealed to him.

"Of ruining our friendship," he said, tracing gentle black thumbs against the smooth metal of Prowl's cheek. "Prowl, I love you." Prowl suddenly snapped to attention. Did Jazz just say...

"Jazz?" He asked a million of questions in just one word.

"Yes," An answer for all of them.

Their lips curved into little smiles, timid at first, unsure of whether or not to let them blossom into something bigger. They had admitted their feelings, but what was to happen now? What road were they supposed to take?

Jazz leant his face closer to Prowl's hesitant at first, unsure whether or not to take this step, knowing once they did, there would be no turning back. Prowl pulled his head back a little, out of sheer habit to such invasion of his personal space.

Jazz took that to mean Prowl was not ready and backed down, a little disappointment flashed in his optics. The chevroned mech though, was quick to correct that assumption and closed the distance between them, lips pressing shyly against Jazz's in a whisper of a caress. Jazz pressed his lips back against Prowl's, kissing back tenderly and just as timidly. It was a chaste kiss for at the moment they needed nothing more to seal a new promise. Whatever the road, they were going to traverse it together.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (8/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: So, this chapter decided it wanted to come faster, and Blaster demanded a little spotlight. Bunny was shamelessly encouraged by snugsbunny.

Blaster would say they were being terribly domestic, but in hindsight Tracks and himself weren't that much better. Still, he was happy for Jazz, the relationship he had with Prowl was definitely filling all the empty spots in the operative's life. They had known each other for a long time, almost since the moment Jazz came to Iacon as a youngling with hopes and dreams to be accepted in the Academy.

He met Jazz in a run to a favored vendor to acquire supplies, Jazz worked there, singing softly to himself as he re-stocked the cabinets with the proper supplies. Blaster remembered that radiant smile addressed at him when he called the other mech to inquire about some items he required. He seemed eager to do his job as well as he could in a way that seemed almost naive, a fact that worried Blaster, he knew the sector wasn't exactly the nicest area in Iacon and a young mech and eager mech like Jazz could be preyed on by unscrupulous mechs.

But Jazz was absolutely no naive youngster that could be taken advantage of easily. He was an unexpected witness to just how well Jazz could take care of himself during an attempt to rob the vendor. He had defended himself, his ingenuity making up for what he lacked in strength against mechs much older and bigger than him.

Blaster took care of the other mechs easily, relying on his bigger size and strength. Jazz had quickly called the enforcers and the lousy criminals were apprehended. The young mech didn't seem too scared or affected by the ordeal, but Jazz confessed with a shaky smile he had been scared out of his plating.

Blaster had stayed longer than necessary just to make sure the young mech would be fine and was then how he found out about Jazz's wish to become an enforcer himself. Although he was in the communications division, Blaster was a first grade student there and considered if maybe there was a way to have the youngling accepted despite his age.

Over the next few deca-cycles Blaster found what he could and managed to issue a recommendation to have Jazz apply and present the required exams. The younger mech seemed a little suspicious of his sudden help, but Blaster assured he was merely impressed and concerned about him staying in such shoddy sector at his age. Jazz eventually agreed to take the exams, not wishing to be rude and refuse the kindness of the mech.

Jazz passed his exams and was admitted despite his youth, several social workers within the Academy worked in acquiring scholarships for him and afford his last upgrades. Jazz soon became one of the rising stars of the Academy and Blaster was honored for what role he played in Jazz realizing his dreams. Because Blaster's speciality was in communications, his courses took longer than Jazz's and they ended up graduating at the same time. Jazz had definitely blossomed into a wonderful mech, and Blaster admitted for a time he had considered pursuing a relationship with him.

In the end however, Blaster decided it was best not to, simply because he knew his friendship, while strong wasn't enough to hold a formal relationship, and he knew he didn't really love Jazz. They had talked about it and admitted a certain degree of attraction but nothing that merited action to be taken. It turned out to be good for both because Blaster discovered he had a flair for affairs left and right and the last thing he wanted was to hurt a friend so dear to him as was Jazz. Until Tracks came into his life, and... well, he knew exactly how Jazz felt now.

He had come across Prowl a couple of times when he had been in service in Praxus temporarily, he came across as a friendly if reserved mech, very dedicated to his work. He had left a good impression on him back then and he found the mech had a lot of patience and loved what he did. When he saw Prowl in Iacon for the first time and heard about the transfer and respective promotion, he was sure this mech was going to be under a lot of pressure, and hoped he could take on the load.

In one of the first outings he had with Tracks and Jazz, he mentioned their superior, talking about how impressed he was about the way he could handle a quirky character like Red Alert. Few mechs had the patience or the understanding to deal with him without screaming their vocal processors off, and Prowl was one of those few. Jazz's curiosity was piqued and Blaster talked more about what he knew of Prowl.

Little did he know he had paved the road for these two mechs to cross their paths, watching from the sidelines their friendship to blossom into something beautiful and stronger than what Blaster and Jazz shared. He hadn't been jealous, surprisingly, because he knew he was still Jazz's closest friend aside Prowl, and he had Tracks claiming a good part of his attention. They both had seen the first signs that said something else could be born from that friendship, and they were glad that something else came to happen.

And that brought him back to the scene before him where he was grinning like a loon, watching Prowl and Jazz argue good naturedly with each other as they prepared energon goodies. Blaster and Tracks had been invited to Prowl's living unit to spend the evening, talking and sharing some fine high-grade Tracks had brought over from a recent trip to Polyhex and the pair of black and whites insisted to prepare some exotic goodies to celebrate the occasion.

The occasion in question, being Blaster's and Tracks' intention to formalize their relationship. For a mech like Blaster who was known for the ephemerality of his relationships, signing up official documents that'd make Tracks his legal mate was quite the step. They weren't bonding yet, they wanted to wait a little longer, just to make sure they were truly and absolutely sure they both wanted the commitment.

They would have a small reception after the documents were signed, just some friends and family but nothing of the caliber of a bonding ceremony. That train of thought brought him back to look at Prowl and Jazz. Blaster didn't' know Prowl as deeply as his friend did, but he struck him as the kind of mech that would go for the whole thing once he was certain he'd found the one he wanted as his mate. And since he did know Jazz as well, he knew there was a bit of a romantic in Jazz that would also like to bond with the mech he loved. He wondered if they would ever take the step.

Blaster admitted he couldn't begin to fathom those two being with anyone else now that feelings had been accepted and confessed. He knew their relationship, like any other, had its high and low points. They could have arguments and heated discussions and cycles where they had little patience for each other when the stress of their work got the better of them. And he knew because Jazz wasn't the kind to bottle it up, he would call him and talk with him.

What Prowl did to dispel his own anger, stress and frustration, he did not know, but whatever he did worked well, because after a little cool down they two would talk, explain their situation, express their feelings and learn what they could from the experience before moving on, their love seeming to grow stronger with each obstacle they sorted together.

"Cybertron ta Blaster," Jazz said playfully and tapped his friend's helm.

"Eh? Oh, sorry!" Blaster smiled sheepishly to his friend, feeling a playful jab on his side courtesy of Tracks. "You were saying?"

"Just said you could help yerself to th'goodies, I need to wash myself. I'll be back in a klik!" Jazz said gingerly before he disappeared for the wash rack, partly covered in powder.

"Is he always that messy after cooking?" Tracks asked party amused and partly horrified at the idea of ever allowing himself to be that messy.

"Only when he wants to make a show out of it," Prowl answered as he cleaned the utensils and the counter top, washing his own hands carefully and inspecting his plating to appraise whether or not he'd need to wash himself as well. Finding himself to be presentable enough, he took the remaining tray containing energon treats filled with a special mix of the expensive high grade and intricately decorated, setting it down on the table where they would celebrate.

Blaster and Tracks were having a good time and were definitely glad they had accepted the invitation, deciding they would ask their friends to make some goodies to have at the reception because they were much better than he had expected. He never thought Jazz would ever be good enough cooking but was greatly surprised. And before they left for their own quarters, Blaster couldn't help the smile growing in his face as he managed to catch a glimpse of Jazz's hand reaching for Prowl's as they saw them to the door, black and white fingers intertwined by the time the door closed.

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"That was fun," Jazz murmured as he walked with Prowl to the room they now shared, still holding each other's hand.

"It was," Prowl admitted, smiling a little at his own beloved. "Do you think they'll bond eventually?"

"Probably." Jazz nodded. "I think they just wanna take it slow right now, but if they're willin' ta go this far, I'm sure it'll be just a matter of time before they bond."

Prowl hummed and nodded as well, leading his companion to their berth. Jazz finally released his fingers and stretched lazily while Prowl laid on the berth and scooted to the father side against the wall. Jazz took the change to take a peek at Prowl's sketch pad he had left laying on the small table by the berth. "You've got a lot of talent you know?"

"If you say so," Prowl murmured, watching Jazz pick up the pad and sift through the most recent files. He was happy to share now this part of himself with Jazz, and made him happier to see the visored mech appreciated this side of him as much as everything else. There were times they could just sit together, he with his stylus and sketch pad and Jazz quietly watching him draw.

"I do say so, mech. Ya could probably sell these for quite a sum." Jazz said and set down the pad, brushing his fingers fondly over the latest drawing Prowl had been working on, depicting Tracks and Blaster together, intended as a gift for the couple, although Prowl had asked Jazz to go with his story they just commissioned the piece to some other artist.

"I don't think so." Prowl sighed, he loved to draw and was a part of him, but every time Jazz suggested he shared his art with the world either by selling or exhibiting some of his pieces, he felt a rush of self consciousness. He didn't consider himself as talented as Jazz claimed, and even more, he had no idea of the way the fine arts world worked like. It was just easier for him to draw and leave it at that, he was content enough sharing his art with his beloved.

"One day I'll find a way to drill into that processor o' yours just how talented you are, Prowl. Ya really don't value yourself like you should." Jazz sighed but smiled and slipped into the berth with the other mech, cuddling against him. "Though, I gotta admit I like ta know I'm the only one who can see this side of yours." And more than anything, Jazz loved to see himself through Prowl's optics in his artwork. what Prowl could not express in words, he seemed to capture with his drawings.

Jazz still found himself humbled by the way Prowl would draw him, it was like seeing some other mech, that beautiful mech he was in Prowl's optics.

"I'm glad I can finally share that with you," Prowl murmured and pressed a kiss to a stubby helm horn, wrapping an arm around Jazz as both initiated their recharge periods. "I still think ya should exhibit some, at least anonymously." Jazz mumbled half in recharge already.

"Recharge, Jazz."

"Aye."

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (9/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Sentinel Prime.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And things now will start to get a little slashier for these two. I owe you 'that thing' I mentioned for this chapter, snugsbunny but I promise it'll happen next chapter!

There were times when Jazz really, really, really did not like Sentinel Prime. The times when Prowl had to pretty much chase him across the halls of the Force's Headquarters almost begging for a breem or two of his attention so he could sign up the slagging forms Sentinel knew had to be returned to the Senate with his signature.

He knew he was a good mech and had his spark in the right place, but his absolute distaste for administrative tasks always made Prowl's job harder than it should be. Even the extreme effort Prowl had to do to acquire a signature from his direct superior was tolerable. But knowing his partner would have to stay past the end of his shift in order to try to process the back log that seemed to never end was upsetting.

It wasn't only the blow this could deal to their time together --he could deal with that. It was finding his lover giving him apologetic glances and embarrassed smiles because he had to devote so much time to doing other mechs' jobs what really angered him.

It was really that hard for others to just do their slagging job in a timely fashion? He hated the administrative work as much as the next mech, he really did, but he'd much rather get over with it soon and do it well so he could get rid of it sooner, save his superiors precious time, and make things move just a little smoother. That was the way he did things even before he met Prowl and became friends with him, so now that their relationship had changed so much, it was especially grating to him to see how this affected the mech he was in love with.

There was little he could do other than do his best to encourage his own co-workers to get done and over with their administrative work, reports and the likes as soon as possible and well done. Sure, he would love to sit Sentinel Prime through a dressing down of epic proportions, but he knew very well that would do very little. Prowl's polite reminders did nothing in the long term, and Red Alert's more forceful and temperamental outbursts only served to put Sentinel Prime into a much fouler mood.

All Jazz could do was try to make Prowl's return back to the home they shared a pleasant experience, make him feel all the work he put forth was appreciated. Prowl did the same for him whenever Jazz was the one bogged down in tasks that could stress him, hard cases to see to, those emotionally draining parts of his job when he'd have to shot down on younglings that took to the bad roads. Jazz knew first hand the dark side of Iacon, the dark side many cities possessed in some measure, and while he enjoyed his job and was used to standing some of the rougher things that came with the position, some tragedies still hit him deep, such as the termination of his patrol partner.

They weren't too close, really, but they got along well, were good partners, and they trusted each other. They always had each other's back and Jazz could trust his spark to the mech. To lose him had been a big shock for him, a good mech that was lost way before his time in Jazz's opinion. The memorial service that followed was particularly hard for him to withstand. That no relatives or significant others came to the service only deepened the extend of the hurt Jazz felt for his loss. The mech was too young to go like that, and in a way it hit home a little, because he was aware Prowl, in a sense, was like his patrol partner. He was aware Prowl had no family, his sire deactivated long ago, and friends... well, that Jazz was considered Prowl's only real friend was sad.

The event had been very emotionally draining for him, but through the whole ordeal, he had his beloved comforting him. Prowl had him laying down on the couch, while the chevroned mech sat on the floor, holding his hand and assuring him he had no intention of getting himself deactivated anytime soon because he had so much to live for, namely him, Jazz.

Likewise, Jazz promised no matter what he'd always fight the odds to come back home every cycle to his beloved, and shower Prowl with all the love he held in his spark for him. Prowl joked Jazz would shower him in energon powder because he continued to be a messy mech when it came to preparing goodies, and eventually, through the laughter, Jazz felt better, thankful to have Prowl in his life making all that hard work even more worth the effort.

Jazz asked Prowl that cycle to draw something for him, anything that came to his mind, just to draw and let him watch while he did. Prowl obliged him and produced a beautiful drawing that Jazz admitted made his spark beat with humility. What Prowl had drawn was a picture of each other standing face to face while being sworn into the Enforcers, looks of hopefulness and determination clear in their optics, proud of what path they chose. Jazz insisted to have that sketch placed in an individual holographic display, mounted like a frame that now decorated their living room.

So now it was his time to do something for Prowl, and with that in mind, he looked down at the new addition to their living unit, hoping Prowl wouldn't mind he acquired and commissioned the installation of a bathing pool inside the wash rack. It was big enough to fit him and Prowl snuggly, but small enough that it could be hidden from sight.

He set up two small squared seats on the floor of the shower, setting aside two containers full to the brim with cleanser and solvent respectively. He scattered small portable dim lights around the wash rack to set up a relaxing atmosphere, and shuffled through a crate filled with small canisters, plucking a dark blue canister out from the assortment.

Jazz opened the top of the canister and reached for a small decorative dish of sorts, pouring a small amount of ground minerals, and carefully poured a few drops of a fluid over it, a soft scent began to spread from the mix and Jazz set the dish down in a corner so it wouldn't get in their way.

Satisfied with his work, Jazz collected his supplies and stored them away in the large cabinets within the rack and checked his internal chronometer, if Primus was feeling benevolent that cycle, Prowl would be back home very soon.

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Prowl strode into the living unit he shared with Jazz, feeling in a particular bad mood. Usually, he would have gone to his favorite bar to draw and wind down for a little, but now he preferred to get back home and share some energon with Jazz, hearing the mech do all the ranting for him while he'd draw very unflattering depictions of the offending mechs that forced him to stay past his shift.

At the moment, though, he really wanted nothing more than to drop himself on the berth, hold onto Jazz and either fall straight into recharge in his lover's arms, or if he could muster the strength, release his stress in other pleasant ways. Though, Prowl just knew he probably didn't have the energy to such amorous activities, pleasant as the thought could be.

As he made his way to the room he shared with Jazz, doing his best to muster what pride he had to keep himself walking straight rather than drag his weight along, his olfactory sensors picked a faint scent slowly filling the living unit, and followed the aroma to the wash rack. He couldn't help but smile fondly as he did, thinking Jazz was probably washing himself while he had a small dish of those aromatic powders laying close by to relax.

The doors of the rack slid open, revealing... Jazz sitting on a small squared block with another before him surrounded by containers of solvent and cleanser and an array of cleaning supplies. All next to a pool full of glowing cleanser that Prowl knew was not there earlier that cycle. "Hey there, lover," Jazz greeter merrily, smiling and waving a hand from his seat. "Come, have a seat." He gestured towards the seat before his own.

"Jazz," Prowl drawled as he strode inside, optics trained on the pool. "Why do we have a bath?"

Jazz's smile grew wider as he took Prowl's hand and tugged down to make the mech sit down, wrapping his arms around his shoulders for a moment and leaning in to plant a peck on his cheek. "Because the love of my life is in serious need of some pamperin' an' I'm about ta administrate said pamperin'. Now, turn around," Jazz replied cheerfully and reached for a small cube of regular energon sitting next to his foot, offering it to Prowl.

"Just what are you plotting?" Prowl asked with amusement, accepting the cube and turning around as instructed so his back was to Jazz. The visored mech didn't reply, instead he began to hum softly and picked a small bowl, picking some cleanser and carefully began to pour it along Prowl's shoulders. The slightly taller black and white shivered a little at the sensation of the cleanser falling against his shoulders and trickling down his arms and against his back.

Jazz nodded to himself in approval and collected some more cleanser, carefully pouring it over his lover's back before he set it down, reaching for a cloth to begin to scrub Prowl's back, dunking it in the solvent. He kept humming softly as he washed Prowl's back smiling to himself when he felt his lover beginning to relax under his attentions. Jazz kept the touch gentle but firm, making sure he'd scrub away every little particle of dirt clinging to Prowl's frame.

Prowl, meanwhile, sighed softly, dimming his optics as he finished his energon and allowed Jazz to wash his back relaxing more and more under the visored mech's ministrations, slowly but surely washing away not just the dirt but also the weariness he felt. Prowl couldn't help the small gasp and subsequent squirming when Jazz cupped a hand under the edge of a wing and began to scrub the appendage. "Stop squirmin'!"

"I can't help it, you know how sensitive they are," Prowl replied, trying to compose himself despite the array of sensations coursing through his wing, from a little stinging from the scrubbing to a slight ticklish sensation, to the soothing motions that were dangerously close to make him purr in contentment.

Once Jazz was satisfied with the state of Prowl's back he poured more cleanser, pressing himself a little closer to the chevroned mech, his legs framing Prowl's side's while he poured cleanser along his chest, arms wrapping around Prowl to spread the cleanser and wash his chest plates and then his legs.

When Jazz was convinced Prowl was clean, he washed away the excess of solvent with the remaining cleanser before he kissed the back of Prowl's helm. "Up ya go now." Jazz helped Prowl to his feet and directed him to the pool, instructing him to get in and lean back. Prowl did as he was told feeling incredibly relaxed and content, he sighed happily as he slipped inside the pool, noticing right away the small currents of fluid flowing at the bottom, keeping the liquid circulating constantly.

Jazz approached and poured something into the pool, Prowl guessed it was an aromatic oil because the fluid's scent changed and he could feel it clinging to his plating. Setting aside the oil's container, Jazz slipped into the pool navigating his way to claim Prowl's lap, facing his lover. "So, feelin' better now?" He crooned, wrapping his arms around Prowl's neck.

"Yes, very." Prowl nodded, wrapping his arms around Jazz and pulling him closer. "Thank you," he murmured and pressed a kiss to Jazz's lips.

"Yer more than welcome, Prowl," Jazz whispered, eagerly returning the loving kiss. Prowl pulled away for a moment, leaning a bit better against the pool, bringing Jazz along. The smaller mech's visor dimmed, and a playful smile graced his lip components, clueing Prowl of what was in his processor.

Well, maybe he had the energy to devote to some of those amorous activities after all.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (10/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Red Alert, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Just as I promised, snugsbunny. Also... you'll find out what 'that' is the next chapter.

Prowl wondered for the tenth time that cycle if what he was doing was the right thing to do. He paced back and forth through the streets of a small specialized commercial district within Iacon, giving appraising looks through the glass of display cabinets to the merchandise the district specialized on. Three meta-cycles had gone by since his relationship with Jazz changed and he looked for something special to commemorate the occasion. He only hoped it would be to Jazz's liking.

Finding a piece that would compliment his lover appropriately in the sea of different models and materials was a little overtaxing, but Prowl had no doubts the effort was worth it. He checked his internal chronometer, glad that he was able to leave his work earlier so he could devote some time to this task before Jazz's shift ended and he arrived home.

After a short while he finally found the perfect piece and commissioned the proper detailing, and after paying for his purchase and being given a pick up date, Prowl made his way back to his living unit to set into motion the next part of his plan, taking a quick detour to acquire a few fine, exclusive treats he and Jazz liked to share on occasion.

Once back in his living unit, the chevroned mech headed straight for the kitchen where he arranged the treats to his liking, leaving them there for now as he subspaced a decanter containing some sweet and very mild high-grade Tracks kindly acquired for him. Leaving the goodies and high-grade on the counter top, Prowl headed to their wash rack where he prepared a soothing and relaxing bath for his lover, shuffling through the canisters with ground minerals to find one appropriate for the occasion.

Although Prowl insisted Jazz was the more prone of the two to be demonstrative and put so much detail into every thing he did --from how he'd arrange the placement of decorative items in a room to adding just that little touch of style to anything he did; Jazz always claimed Prowl had a picky optic for detail and he was incredibly meticulous when he did something as simple as arrange canisters inside a cabinet. So, Prowl reviewed several times the appropriate placement of portable lights, the extravagant scented candles he'd just lit up, until everything was exactly as he envisioned it in his CPU with millimetric precision. Prowl tended to refer to himself as obsessive about such things, Jazz preferred to call it having 'attention to detail'.

Once he was satisfied with the ambient he had created and arranged all cleaning supplies properly, he headed to his studio, carefully looking through his stored materials until he found a sketch pad at least twice the size of the one he used regularly. He brought it over to the living room and rested it against the nearby table and sat down to wait for Jazz, idly scribbling little doodles in his usual sketchpad while he waited for his lover to return back home.

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If there was something Jazz just loved about his work, was the end of his shift, simply because he knew it would mean the return to the living unit he shared with Prowl. A few meta-cycles since they met and began to live together, Jazz longed for the homely feeling and the sense of belonging that filled him. Living with a room mate for vorns used to make him not necessarily care about returning to his quarters. It wasn't he dreaded to go to his quarters, or that he disliked it. It was simply he never felt anything akin to a 'home, sweet home' in those places. In Prowl's quarters Jazz really felt at home, and enjoyed his time there as much as they enjoyed the time away.

It was sometimes a little hard to belive this long had already passed, and that their relationship was going as strong, if not stronger than it was at the beginning. That thought, as Jazz drove through the streets back to the complex where he and Prowl lived; brought up front something that had been taking shape within his CPU for some time now --Jazz wondered what were Prowl's thoughts about bonding.

The visored enforcer was not new to relationships, he had dated a couple of mechs in the past and had indulged in some impersonal, casual interfacings with acquaintances. Those however, had been nothing but attraction that had worked out nice for a while, but the excitement tended to wear out, lacking the deeper meaning and connection of the relationship he had with Prowl.

He remembered Blaster, for example, the mech was a thrill seeker when it came to relationships. Few mechs and femmes could retain his interest after a couple of dates and most of time an interface or two were all the excitement he could draw from his partners before Blaster decided it was time to look for something new. Jazz had to admit, when Blaster met Tracks, he thought Tracks would be yet another quick conquest that'd be forgotten when a newer, shinier model came along.

That Blaster's and Tracks' relationship not only lasted more than a few deca-cycles, but the level of commitment Blaster demonstrated for his new date surprised Jazz in great measure. Now, several meta-cycles later, they were formally mated and, if Jazz's ability to read mechs' was as good as he prided himself on, the two had finally bonded, considering the way their body language had changed since their formal mating.

That Blaster now took to turn down pretty femmes and mechs when before he would have jumped to the invitation even if he had a partner at the moment; spoke volumes of the fact that, yes, Blaster was in love with Tracks and the sentiment was mutual, and they were happy together.

With that train of though, Jazz pondered his own situation. He had liked and cared for his dates whenever he established a relationship, but he never ever thought 'I love this mech or femme' when thinking about them. No, he never said those words, not even to his longest lasting partner. He only said those words, and meant them, when he'd say them to Prowl, and every time he did, he felt his spark flutter with contentment. He loved Prowl, and Primus, he'd bond his spark to the mech's if he wanted.

It was past liking the attractive mech Prowl was, it was past the passionate mech Jazz discovered he could be once their relationship progressed into intimate territory. Even their arguments they could have, albeit rare, that sometimes left him shaking with anger and frustration, they served to get to know each other better and learn to become better mechs themselves.

To go to recharge every night huddled against Prowl and hearing his spark thrumming gently underneath his plating, made him feel so at peace and happy, he felt cared for, he felt he belonged.

It was with such happy thoughts that Jazz threaded with light, easy steps through the halls of the complex, merrily entering the access code to the living unit and sigh contently as he stepped inside.

"Good day at work, I take it?" Prowl's amused voice was like music to Jazz's audio receptors. "Ya could say that." Jazz grinned and made his way to the couch where Prowl was comfortably sprawled, one leg drawn up to his chest, used as a support for the sketch pad. "What about ya? I was surprised t'hear yer shift ended earlier than usual." The visored mech bent a little to place a lazy kiss on his lover's lips.

"Mm, yes, Sentinel crashed Red Alert, so we kind of took the rest of the day off while Red Alert was being taken care of." Prowl returned the kiss, setting down the pad to stand up. "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you but there was something important I had to attend to."

"S'alright. May I ask what?" Jazz smiled, peeking down at the pad to find even more humorous doodles of a rather bitchy looking medic hammering Sentinel Prime's head for breaking Red Alert.

"You may, but I think it's best if you see it by yourself," Prowl drawled softly, a tone Jazz found to be irresistible. "Lead the way, lover." He whispered with a mischievous smile.

"This way, please," Prowl chuckled, purposefully leading Jazz at a sedated pace to their wash rack. Although these baths were nothing new between them, each time was just as wonderful as the first and both enjoyed the whole process, the perfectly innocent act of washing each other, and the not always so innocently bath that followed. Just the effort each one put into creating an atmosphere and the simple fact they cared enough to do something like this for each other was very meaningful and enjoyable for them both.

--------------------------

Jazz stretched out lazily, arching his body a little, the afterglow of their love making and that very delicious bath together still lingered in his body. Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz's waist, murmuring against his audio to head back to the living room and help himself to the treats and high-grade while he cleaned the bathroom.

Jazz did as he was told humming contently with a rather goofy grin on his face plates as he picked the tray with goodies and the decanter of high-grade, picking a couple of cubes before he moved to the couch where he made himself comfortable. Jazz's grin grew only wider while he brought a goodie to his lips. Prowl wasn't a very demonstrative mech, his professional demeanor was always to the point even if it was polite and courteous, even when they hung around with Blaster and Tracks, it seemed his lover wasn't used to be seen being as openly affectionate. But in private, Prowl had all these little details that meant so much to Jazz, making him feel, once again privileged to see these things nobody else could.

When Prowl returned to the living room he sat down on the floor again, smiling warmly at Jazz. He picked accepted the cube of high-grade the visored mech offered him and reached for his larger sketch pad. "Jazz?"

"Yeah?" Jazz replied lazily, now sprawled over the larger couch, resting his head on his arm against the arm rest.

"Would you pose for me?"

Jazz had to double take at the question. This was something Prowl had never asked him to do, he didn't seem to need him posing to be drawn, he was certain Prowl's memory was bordering perfection and infallibility. Still, if Prowl was asking him to pose, he was not going to deny his lover. "Sure," he said with a small smile.

Prowl's lip components curved into a grateful smile, and instructed his beloved to just lay down on the couch whichever way he wanted and just relax and be himself. Jazz laughed at the command but fixed his position a little to be more comfortable, pillowing his head against the armrest completely while he laced his fingers together and rested them on his abdomen, a leg bent up just a little, with a placid smile on his lips.

Prowl's face plates fixed in a look of concentration as he began to sketch the basic draft. Every time he drew Jazz he found the smaller black and white enforcer had a very aesthetically pleasant shape, the contours of his form, the way every segment of his body flowed nicely into the next. He sketched for about a joor, adding as much detail as he considered necessary, capturing not only Jazz and the couch but also what could be seen of their quarters behind the furniture and his lover. Although Jazz was still the central focus of the piece, tracing with ultra fine strokes the shadows and reflections on his plating with precise detail.

"Done?" Jazz asked softly, although his visor was as bright as usual, his voice sounded somewhat sleepy.

"For now." Prowl chuckled and saved his progress, setting the pad down.

"For now?" Jazz asked, stretching a little again in that way that displayed his very delectable shape for Prowl's visual enjoyment.

"Yes, for now. I have the sketch ready, I'll add the finishing touches later. For now, let's get to the berth and recharge." Prowl offered his hand to Jazz to help him up but the visored mech didn't seem eager to move out of the couch anytime soon. "Come on, Jazz."

"But it's so comfy here," Jazz whinned, nuzzling his cheek against the arm rest. "C'mon, lay down with me here, there's plenty o' room for both of us." He tugged on the other mech's hand, trying to pull Prowl on to of him.

"Jazz we can't recharge in the couch." Despite his protests, Prowl obliged and carefully eased himself on top of Jazz, covering his body with his own.

"Who said anythin' about rechargin', lover?" Jazz grinned and wrapped his arms around Prowl's neck, curling a leg around his lover's own leg. Prowl shook his head a little, amusement coloring his blue optics. "You're insatiable."

"Mmhmm. An' who's fault is that?" Jazz purred as he pulled Prowl's head down, lips brushing against each other. Prowl laughed softly, optics dimming to a dark cobalt. "My bad," he murmured before pressing his lips against Jazz's, no more words were to be spoken for a long while.

-----------------------

Jazz hummed along the soft music that filled the small, cozy bar Prowl favored. His lover asked him to meet him here after their shifts, claiming his wish to celebrate a special occasion. Jazz wasn't sure what occasion Prowl could be referring to, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't excited.

He was sitting in that corner table where Jazz saw Prowl all that time ago when he had come with Tracks and Blaster. The place held a special place in his spark, remembering the times he and Prowl had spent here, and that first drawing his lover gifted him all those meta-cycles ago. A drawing he displayed in the room he had been inhabiting when he moved with Prowl and that his beloved admitted to have drawn after their feelings were confessed.

Lost in his remembrance of those wonderful moments spend in this bar, Jazz barely noticed the moment Prowl sat down next to him. "Hey, there." The visored mech greeted his lover, offering him the cube of high-grade he ordered for him.

"Thank you." Prowl smiled at his lover and accepted the cube, taking a long sip that had Jazz quirking an optic ridge behind his visor. That wasn't usual on him and Jazz could only peg the action to Prowl being nervous about something, but decided not to pursue the issue.

They chatted for a while, though Prowl seemed to be growing more and more nervous and anxious as the time dragged on. Jazz was becoming worried so he decided to find out what was wrong with his lover. "Prowl, is somethin' the matter? Yer tremblin', love."

Prowl's optics flickered a couple of times and looked at his hands, noticing the fine, almost imperceptible tremors. With a long, deep sigh Prowl decided it was now or never. "There's something I wanted to show you." The chevroned mech extracted a couple of objects from his subspace and offered the largest to Jazz. "I hope you like it."

Jazz accepted the object and carefully removed the dark plastic wrapping, his optics widening as he took in the sight of the breath taking piece or artwork. It was the sketch Prowl had asked him to pose for, now fully colored. "Oh, wow...!"

'Wow' was hardly the best way to describe what Jazz thought about the gift, but his processors refused to supply anything more helpful. "Prowl, I have no words... It's amazing!"

Prowl's lips curved into a timid, somewhat meek smile, humbled his beloved liked his gift if the expression of amazement in his face was anything to go by. Prowl gathered his resolve and offered Jazz the second object, small enough to fit in his palm. "I hope you do like this one, too."

Jazz set the framed drawing aside carefully and reached to accept the smaller package. He thanked Prowl and fumbled to find the mechanism's trigger to open the small case. Once he found it and pressed his finger against it, the case opened to reveal... was that what he thought it was?

"Prowl?" Jazz gasped and turned to look at his lover for confirmation.

Prowl nodded and smiled, bringing his hands to cup Jazz's still holding the small case. "Jazz, would you bond with me?"

The bright smile that followed threatened to take over the visored mech's face, nodding enthusiastically, whispering, "Yes."

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (11/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Blaster, Inferno. Mention of Red Alert, Sentinel Prime,Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Blargh, sorry snugsbunny, this chapter refused to be any longer than this.

Jazz couldn't help the big grin that currently adorned his face plates, he did his best to continue witting down his report while two of his co-workers were examinating his hand --rather, the object now affixed to the back of his hand. Two young assistants were currently blabbering about the precious bonding gift he sported, black metal engraved and decorated with fine white, red, cyan, blue and golden polymers to form an intricate design.

It was similar to a small shield or badge, placed somewhere in the plating of the mech or femme the proposal was made to. It could be placed anywhere, the choice of where the bonding gift was attached was entirely the bearer's choice, and Jazz decided he would wear his on the back of his hand. He wanted to display his bonding gift openly without really being too showy about it, but without it being too hidden either. To wear it on his hand was discreet enough without hiding it.

Jazz laughed softly, watching a third young mech come close and take a peek to see what all the fuss was about, gasping in surprise when he realized the officer was wearing the mark of a mech gifted a promise of bonding.

"Jazz, you're going to bond?" An older femme approached him, shooing away the other mechs while she took hold of his arm, bringing it close to her face to inspect the bonding gift.

"That I am," the visored mech nodded and tried to remember what he was going to write down a moment before.

"Well, congratulations!" The female said with a big smile, crossing her arms. "So, who's the lucky mech or femme?"

Jazz laughed good naturedly, witting down some notes for his report. "Prowl."

The femme's optic ridges shot upwards, her mouth hung open in a clear expression of disbelief. "Prowl?" By now all other mechs and femmes nearby were standing around his desk, watching with curious interest."As in, stick in the slag, get your primus damned reports done right now, I can't see what a good time is even if it hit me in the face plate, stiff, proper, Sentinel Prime-sitter? That Prowl?"

Jazz's smile faded a little into an expression of mild annoyance. "Yes, that Prowl."

The femme held up her hands in a placating gesture. "No offense, Jazz. It's just I never thought that mech... you know... had it in him." She shrugged.

"Well," Blaster drawled as he pushed his way through the small crowd, his larger size making the task much easier. "Obviously he had it in him enough to catch Jazz. What? Are you jealous?"

"Of course not!" The femme protested scandalized. "I have a partner thank you very much." She huffed and shot a glare at the communications specialist.

"Right, whatever. So, don't you mechs and femmes have work to do? Move yer afts!" Blaster clapped his hands in exaggerated movements to usher all other mechs and femmes back to their work. Once everyone was back to their stations he dropped to sit on the edge of Jazz's desk. "So, he proposed, huh?" Blaster grinned from audio to audio, pointing at Jazz's bonding gift.

Jazz's good mood had returned with Blaster's intervention and nodded, smiling fondly. "Yep! You comin' to our ceremony, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything!" Blaster patted his friend's shoulder. "You've planned the details of the ceremony yet?"

Jazz shook his head, reviewing his report before checking his internal chronometer to see how much time was left before his shift ended. "We haven't planned much yet, Prowl wants ta talk with Sentinel so he can be available for the ceremony."

Blaster nodded, remembering it was their Prime's duty, as bearer of the Matrix, to conduct a bonding ceremony between members of the force or the Senate "I'm surprised Prowl wants a ceremony, to be honest. Or is he just letting you have your way?" He grinned.

"Actually, we both want it. Prowl wants the whole ritual even if we can do without most of the guests." The visored mech chuckled softly, knowing full well that their ceremony would be an event open for anyone within the force to be present if they so desired, plus the usual escort and other formalities proper of a bonding between members of the security forces.

Blaster nodded and tapped his finger to his chin. "Yeah, that's why Tracks and I didn't want a bonding ceremony. Too much protocol for our taste. Will you guys need any help? I'll be glad to lend a servo any time, and I'm sure Tracks would love to help, too."

"Thanks Blaster, once we start sorting out the details of the ceremony and all that we'll let you know."

"All right, I'll let you to your work now, I have a meeting with Red Alert and that's not going to be much fun." Blaster chuckled and waved, walking away towards the communications division's sector.

Jazz looked back at his report, correcting some minor errors, and once he was satisfied with it he saved the progress and set it down in a small pile with other finished reports to take to his superior, finishing with his work. He still had a few breems before his shift ended and decided to head for the common area to take some energon.

The room was mostly empty, which suited Jazz just fine because he wasn't eager to attract attention at the moment. There were many things in his processors at the moment, most of them relating to his and Prowl's bonding ceremony.

There were unresolved issues in his past that he wasn't sure about voicing to his soon to be bondmate. Blaster's question about the ceremony brought things about his past into the light, and he wasn't sure how to proceed about them. Until Blaster unintentionally brought up the issue of their ceremony and how he and Prowl wanted the event to be relatively discreet --after all a bonding ceremony presided by the Prime himself wasn't something that could be overlooked in the Headquarters-- he hadn't even thought about them.

It pained him in a way that he could so easily forget about their role in his life. But what else could he do? He had his own path to pursue, and they had not parted in the most amiable of ways. But even if he did not invite them over, should he broach the subject with Prowl?

He didn't want to hold that kind of secrets with Prowl, especially knowing they would bond sparks soon, and all he was could be revealed to his mate should he desire to explore so during their bonding and subsequent reaffirmation of their bond whenever they interfaced. At the same time, Jazz didn't know what to say to his future mate, should he even bring it up? Should he just let Prowl find out when they merged sparks?

"What's troubling you?" Jazz jumped a little in surprise, looking up to the large, towering frame of none other than Red Alert's mate, Inferno. Jazz tried to smile a little, still deeply bothered by the path his thoughts were taking. "S'nothing important, just thinkin' about our bonding."

Inferno smiled sympathetically and nodded. "Prowl, right?" Jazz nodded and gestured his hand to the seat across from his own, inviting Inferno to sit down. "What are ya thinking about? You sure seem troubled."

Jazz didn't answer for a while, looking down at the back of his hand and tracing a black finger over his bonding gift. "You an' Red Alert are bonded, right? Do ya share everything within your spark with him? Does he know all yer secrets? The past?"

Inferno quirked an optic ridge but nodded, casting a glance at Jazz's bonding gift and smiling fondly. "Yeah, Red knows every little thing about me. My good deeds along with the bad, my deepest secrets an' fears. I opened my spark and very essence for him when I asked him to bond with me."

Jazz nodded absently, brushing his fingertip along the golden detailing of his bonding gift, the color he knew represented Prowl in the gift, while the blue and cyan represented him, the white, red and black representing the colors they shared, their promise to become one.

Inferno frowned, not liking the almost fearful aura Jazz exuded. from "Is that what is troublin' ya? Are you afraid of what Prowl could see in yer spark when the two of ya bond?"

Jazz shook his head. "I ain't ashamed of what and who I am, Inferno. I am open for Prowl ta see anythin' about me. There's just... some things about my past I dunno if I should tell Prowl about or let him discover when we bond."

"Jazz," Inferno spoke softly in a gentle but somewhat stern tone. "If you open up yer spark for Prowl, it doesn't mean he'll rush to want to know everythin' about ya right away. My situation with Red Alert is different. He needed ta know everythin' about me, he needed... confirmation about who I was, who I am. He wanted ta know I was bein' honest in my wish to be his mate, that I truly loved him and had no other reasons to request a bond."

Inferno sighed a little, but his smile had not wavered. "Red is a complicated mech, Jazz. He's had a rough life, he's guarded. I opened myself to him, but the trade wasn't exactly equal at first, ya know? He always had a barrier up, a limit that said 'you cannot go further'. He couldn't trust all that he was in just one moment."

"That... doesn't sound like it was a good experience." Jazz's voice was meek, almost afraid of voicing his thoughts, not wishing to offend Inferno.

"Oh, it was, Jazz." Inferno laughed, patting the smaller mech's shoulder. "I knew what I was getting into when I asked to bond with him. I knew he wouldn't be open with me as I was with him, but I knew why and I needed nothing more than to feel his love when we first joined sparks. Because I pushed no further nor searched for his deepest secrets and fears, he began to open up eventually, and shows me what he wants me to see. That's enough for me."

Jazz nodded, a smile beginning to grow in his lip components. "The best you can do is either talk it with Prowl, see if he wants to know, or let him discover things by himself." Inferno stood up and patted the younger mech again. "And by the way, some congratulations are in order."

"Thanks, Inferno." Jazz nodded again, that aura of uncertainty all but gone now. "For everything."

"Yer welcome."

-----------------------

"Hey, lover," Jazz looked up from his empty cube of energon some time later, watching Prowl coming into the room and rewarding the smaller black and white with that little smile he displayed openly for him.

"Hello yourself," Prowl responded and took a seat across from Jazz. "Red Alert told me I should come to find you." Prowl quirked an optic ridge, watching Jazz turn to look at him with what he was sure was a matching raised optic ridge behind his visor. "Inferno?"

Prowl nodded, "Apparently Inferno relayed to him you were troubled and Red Alert informed me I should come to find you." The chevroned mech reached to brush white fingertips against Jazz's on the hand bearing the bonding gift. "So, what's wrong?"

Jazz shifted a little not sure how to word his thoughts. "I was thinkin' about our bonding," he trailed softly feeling the tension in Prowl's frame through the finger tips touching his hand.

"You still want to bond, right?"

Jazz's visor flickered a couple of times and he took his promised's hands with his own, placing a quick peck on his cheek. "Of course I do! I didn't mean ta imply I was havin' second thoughts." He smiled sheepishly when Prowl's frame notably relaxed. "It's just that... well, there's things about me ya don't know, my past, things like that, an' when we bond... well..."

"Jazz," Prowl murmured and brought a hand to cup one of Jazz's black hands still holding his other hand. "I have not inquired further about your past, because that doesn't matter in the big scheme of things. If there is anything about your past you want to tell, do it when you feel you're ready. I promise I won't go snooping in your spark when we bond if that's what's worrying you."

Jazz stared into his future mate's optics, deciding that, at least for now, there was no need to bring up that part of his past. He was bonding with an enforcer after all, they wouldn't accept it, and he did not need that shadow obscuring such happy and important occasion. Yes, it was best to let the past rest. "All right. Thank you, Prowl." Jazz smiled and squeezed his promised's hand. "C'mon, let's go back home, we have much to plan!"

Prowl laughed softly and nodded, allowing Jazz to tug on his arm and pull him up.

--------------------------

Prowl hummed to himself, watching Jazz recharging peacefully against him with his head pillowed against his shoulder, having fallen into the lull of rest after going through the initial list of preparations to be tended to for their ceremony. The chevroned mech turned his optics back to his sketch pad where he had been doodling absently while they planned.

He set his pad down by the small table, giving a last critical look at the rough sketch of the ceremonial halls, where their bonding rituals would be carried. Prowl laid back on the berth carefully, pulling Jazz to lay better against him comfortably before turning off the dim lights. Only a few more deca-cycles and Jazz would be his bonded, the thought making his spark beat in anticipation, eager for that merging.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (12/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Blaster, Tracks, Sentinel Prime.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: As promised, snugsbunny here's the ceremony, I owe you the uh... other thing for the next chapter. And yes, the hammer thing is totally borrowed from Ultra Magnum Magnus.

Upon reflection, Jazz wasn't sure whether to regret or be thankful about Tracks' involvement in the bonding ceremony that would take place in less than a joor. He wasn't sure just how long he had been standing in the wash rack, nor the amount of waxes and oils the red faced mech had been applying to his finish. He felt like one of those expensive candles Tracks loved to burn, and he was sure if the other mech kept going he was going to shine so much he'd blind a few mechs.

Jazz could only imagine just how Prowl looked like considering Tracks had spent at least two joors, 'fixing that finish of his'. Jazz never considered himself or Prowl to have a bad care for their paint jobs and detailing, but apparently Tracks decided the occasion merited his intervention.

The visored mech was pretty sure Tracks had at least commanded a few other mechs to have Sentinel Prime as polished as possible, considering the Prime was more than likely not going to allow Tracks to keep him standing for joors to polish him and embellish his armor to his satisfaction.

"All right, you're almost done. I just need to fix something and you'll be presentable for your ceremony." Tracks headed to a crate he had brought along containing all manner of expensive waxes, oils, cleaning and polishing supplies and some cans of fine paints. "Turn around and tilt your head back," he instructed the black and white mech.

Jazz did as he was told, mentally reminding himself the torture was almost over and his stiffened joints would get some rest soon. Jazz felt Tracks apply strings of a special masking tape over his chest, forming a pattern. Shortly after, the paint brush he had brought along was dipped in one of the paint cans, then brought over his chest to start repainting his stripes.

After a few retouches and standing under special lamps to dry him up, Jazz was ordered to sit on a chair fitted with a soft material to make sure the paint job wouldn't be damaged. Jazz waited seated in his plush seat for the time where Blaster would come to get him for the ceremony. His gaze fell to his hand where he had been wearing his bonding gift, the accessory no longer attached to his hand, nor in his possession.

His bonding gift had been removed earlier that cycle when they arrived at the Headquarters ceremonial hall and both were ushered into different rooms to be prepared. The bonding gift was currently guarded by Blaster, who would act as the head of the guard during the climax of the ceremony, the most vulnerable and sacred moment.

Jazz couldn't decide if he was nervous or excited or a combination of both. They had planned everything so carefully and counted the cycles until the ceremony was to take place, it felt almost surreal to know in just a few breems he would be taken to the hall where he would be proclaimed bonded to Prowl.

"It's time, Jazz," Blaster spoke softly, smiling down to his long time friend and extending his hand to help the mech up. He carried a silver box cradled against his chest, where Jazz knew his bonding gift to be stored.

Blaster guided his friend out of the room, finding their path separated by four rows of officers standing to attention, their bodies blocking Jazz's view as he made his way to the alter, knowing Prowl was walking down the same path across the four columns of officers that kept them hidden from each other until the very end.

Finally, Jazz reached the alter and the last four officers blocking the path stood back, allowing them to see each other for the first time in joors.

Prowl's wings twitched minutely, his, until that moment, stern expression fell into one of astonishment and admiration, his optics gliding greedily over Jazz's frame. His paint gleamed so beautifully, his white paint somehow had become even more vibrant, his polished glass reflected the light in an almost ethereal way, and his bright blue visor glowed with excitement. Prowl uttered a silent prayer, begging for this wonderful mech to never be taken away from him, thanking whatever fates brought them together.

Jazz himself stared in awe at the mech that would become his bondmate that cycle. Tracks had certainly put as much work into Prowl as he did with Jazz, his black paint seemed to glow, reflections on the polished metal all the more evident than before. His white paint reflected the light so elegantly, just as did the golden crest on his helm. Jazz couldn't help the small sound that left his vocal processor, optics locked on that handsome face accented by that polished red chevron that gleamed like a blade, and the enforcers' emblem painted on his chest.

Blaster nudged Jazz gently, earning himself his friend's attention. With a small smile he pushed his friend forward, watching his own mate encourage Prowl forward. Blaster stopped when Prowl and Jazz were face to face and stepped aside, offering the silver box to Tracks to hold for a moment before Blaster took Prowl's and Jazz's hands, bringing them close and cupping their hands between his own. Blaster looked up at Sentinel Prime, who nodded back at him.

The tall orange mech bowed at his Prime's silent command and whispered something in ancient Cybertronian to Prowl and then to Jazz before he released their hands and stepped back to join with Tracks, recovering the box.

Sentinel Prime gestured the couple to approach him, both falling down to one knee to proceed with the ceremony. Sentinel Prime addressed first the guests who had come to pay witness to the union, sternly reminding all present the implications of a bonding. Following tradition, he recited the same verses that for millennia had been spoken during bonding ceremonies, the first addressed to those present, to take joy and be honored to be allowed to witness the event.

He spoke then to Prowl and Jazz, reminding them of the changes that would befall their lives, not only in status but also in body and mind. Stern words to remind them the paths they would traverse were to be traveled together, that life would have its ups and downs and the challenges of one would be the challenges of the other. Sentinel Prime then took a long staff crowned with what looked like a glowing hammer head.

"It is still time for you both to back down now," Sentinel Prime's voice echoed like a roar in the ample hall. "I ask you, Prowl. Is this what you want?"

"Yes," Prowl answered immediately, his head bowed respectfully.

"It is this what you desire? Are you willing to put your life and spark in the hands of another? It is not late, back down now."

"This is what I want." Prowl's voice was firm.

"Are you so sure? This is your last chance. It cannot be undone."

"I want this." Prowl answered firmly.

Sentinel Prime then turned to Jazz, whose head was bowed respectfully, just like Prowl. "I ask you, Jazz. Is this what you want?"

"Yes," Jazz's voice was as firm and determined as Prowl's.

"It is this what you desire? Do you wish to entrust your very essence and self to another being?"

"I do. This is what I want."

"You know once joined there's no turning back. Do you still want to proceed?"

"Yes, I want to proceed."

There was an eerie silence filling the hall for a few moments, until the silence was broken as the long hammer was banged mercilessly against the ground three times, once for each time the pair accepted to go through the bonding, the hallow hammer head producing a sound that was interpreted as the Prime's acceptance of their vows.

Blaster moved forward, bringing the silver box with him. The box was handed to the elderly mech who removed the bonding gift from it, setting it inside a pot of sorts. Blaster then moved to stand before the couple, facing the crowd. He crossed his arms behind his back as four more mechs came from each side of the alter, all wearing long armor pieces resembling a cape. Two stood to Blaster's left and the other two to his right, forming a semi circle around Prowl, Jazz, the Prime and his assistant. Blaster and the four guards began to sing an ancient anthem, while they blocked from view the events taking place between the two soon to be bonded.

Sentinel Prime offered his hands to the pair, helping them to stand up. Prowl and Jazz looked at each other while they watched their Prime accept an instrument from his assistant. Sentinel Prime approached Jazz, kneeling down so he could perform his next task. Jazz took a deep intake of air, willing his chest plates to split, shift and part to reveal his spark chamber, casting a glance to his future mate who smiled back reassuringly.

Sentinel Prime traced his fingers carefully along the protective casing, finding the exact place he was looking for. He brought the instrument, a laser scalpel of sorts and carefully began to engrave glyphs into the plating. Jazz held back a soft hiss, it wasn't painful but he felt a little stinging after each glyph was traced. The voices of their guard singing echoed in the hall, while they protected them in this moment of vulnerability where their spark chambers were exposed.

Jazz sighed a little once Sentinel Prime stood up and took a step back, Jazz's black fingers rested on his spark chamber below the string of glyphs carved into the plating. The incisions weren't really deep and did not compromise the chamber in the least, just deep enough to allow the last step to be fulfilled. As Sentinel Prime moved towards Prowl and the chevroned mech willed his own chest plates open, Jazz traced carefully the glyphs on his spark chamber, spelling Prowl's name.

Prowl looked at Jazz while Sentinel Prime carved Jazz's designation on his spark chamber; a look of humility and gratitude painted his face plates. When Sentinel Prime was done carving the glyphs, the elderly mech approached with the pot where the bonding gift had been deposited previously, a long and thin tube was introduced in the pot, and sentinel Prime collected the glowing red melted material that had been the bonding gift.

The Prime approached Jazz, kneeling down with his assistant next to him, holding the pot in his tray solemnly. Jazz felt the melted mixture filling the first of the glyphs, solidifying almost immediately. One by one the glyphs on both spark chambers were filled with the material, and Sentinel Prime ordered them to close their chest plates.

The remnants of the bonding gift were poured in a small mold, and once solidified the badge was cut in half with a complex but symmetric design, each half deposited in each other's hand. Sentinel Prime took the long hammer once more, and banged the bottom of the staff against the ground one time for each glyph he carved.

With the last echo of the hammer's hollow head, Blaster and the guards's song was brought to an end and they stepped aside, two aids running to place ceremonial armor pieces on Prowl's and Jazz's shoulders as the pair turned, holding each other's hand and their halves of the badge between their palms. Prime pronounced the traditional blessing of the union, echoed by every single 'bot present in the hall as the row of enforcers stood to attention, saluting as Prowl and Jazz began to walk away from the hall, followed by Blaster and Tracks, now proclaimed each other's bondmate.

Their actual bonding would take place later in the privacy of their quarters, but for now, a celebration was in order, after all they had so much to celebrate.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (13/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz. Mention of Blaster and Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And because the snugsbunny needs some hugs, have some fluffs. Look, ma! Spark bonding without smut!

Taking part in festivities and celebrations tended to be sometimes a very exhausting endeavor. Prowl wished his body did not feel as tired as it was at the moment, knowing in a matter of breems he would require his strength to physically join his spark with Jazz's.

They were escorted to the complex they lived in by the same mechs who acted as their guard during the ceremony, Blaster leading the procession with Tracks on their tail. As they approached the complex, Blaster transformed and ordered the guard to stay behind, from that point onwards, Prowl and Jazz were led to their living unit by Blaster and Tracks, who would keep guard outside their living unit's door for the remainder of the cycle, both to guard the couple and to prevent them from being disturbed.

Prowl and Jazz entered their living unit, the visored mech headed for their kitchen where he retrieved a package he and his now mate had prepared earlier in the cycle. The package contained fine energon treats and regular energon for the mechs who'd stand guard for them for joors, a traditional token of gratitude new bonds offered to their guards for the time and rest they sacrificed in their honor.

Tracks and Blaster accepted the package, smiling at them and offering their congratulations once more, bidding them to good rest after they completed the last step before they could truly be called bondmates. Jazz waved at his friend and his mate as the doors slid shut, feeling his spark fluttering with excitement and nervousness. Prowl took his hand and Jazz glanced into his mate's optics, studying the attractive face of the mech that in a matter of breems would be forever his.

They shared a soft kiss and their hands took hold of each other, fingers interlinking as they headed to the room they had been sharing for meta-cycles now, to complete their bonding.

Their room had been arranged early in the cycle for the event, their big berth's padding had been replaced, and laying on the middle of the ample surface lay a tray with two empty cubes, an tiny, ornate decanter containing a special kind of energon that could only be acquired with a medic's authorization. The joining of their sparks was going to be a very taxing effort, and the energon supplied by an authorized medic was a very concentrated and energizing kind. The exact amount of energon had been measured carefully according to their bodies frames and specifications, each cube marked with the amount to be poured for each one.

The enriched energon had a horrible taste, so a long rectangular treat intricately decorated was to be shared after imbibing the energon. Prowl and Jazz knelt across from each other on the berth with the energon cubes, decanter and treat in between. Prowl took the decanter, opening the lid and began to fill the cube designated for Jazz, mindful to stop when he reached the mark and offered the decanter to Jazz.

Jazz accepted the decanter and carefully poured the remaining energon in the cube designated for Prowl. Jazz set the decanter aside in the nearby table picking his cube as Prowl picked his own, both drinking the foul tasting energon in a long sip. Prowl grimaced at the horrible taste but laughed a little at Jazz making a show of it, coughing and cursing lowly at the 'energon tasting like slag'.

The chevroned mech picked the treat and offered it to his mate, holding the sweet in his hands like he were offering a precious gift. Jazz coughed one last time and set his cube down, smiling at the treat prowl offered him. He took his mate's hands with his own, carefully bringing them up to his face, taking a small bite of the jelly-like substance still held in his beloved's hands. Prowl understood what Jazz wanted to do and leaned his own head down to take a bite from the opposite end of the energon treat still held on his hands, Jazz's still cradling his. They repeated this, taking small bites until they consumed the treat completely.

With the treat and energon consumed, they set the empty cubes on the table and moved closer, knees brushing against each other's. Jazz smiled at Prowl, a somewhat timid smile that spoke of the importance of this moment, in which he'd be bearing his spark for Prowl for the first time. Prowl leaned forward a little, pressing a chaste kiss to his love's lips in encouragement.

Jazz's hands raised to stroke Prowl's chest plates, tenderly asking his mate to part his plating for him. Prowl obliged the silent request, metal plates shifting and parting to reveal his spark casing. Jazz's smile widened as he brought a hand to trace the glyphs on Prowl's spark chamber spelling his name. Prowl's hand caught his squeezing it gently as his free hand brushed white, loving fingertips over matching white plating adorned with vibrant stripes.

Jazz's free hand reached behind his helm again, pressing his fingers with the perfect pressure to retract his visor. Prowl smiled at Jazz, looking into his beautiful optics as his chest plates parted, exposing his spark chamber to him. He felt Jazz's hand taking his own, bringing it to press against the metal of the protective casing, feeling through it the gentle pulse of his spark.

"Love you," Jazz whispered and pulled Prowl's hand away a little as his spark chamber began to split and part, bathing the room in an ethereal light. Prowl couldn't help the look of wonder that overtook his features, watching the spark chamber open to expose Jazz's spark to him. Prowl's spark chamber began to open almost by inertia, bringing in even more light into the room, murmuring words of love back to his mate.

Jazz let out a soft sound like a mewl, looking into the bright orb that was Prowl's life force and very essence. The orb that would soon merge with his own, leaving part of Prowl within himself, and taking a part of him for Prowl to guard.

Prowl whispered Jazz's name like a prayer, his spark pulsed with need --the impervious need to clash and merge with its intended mate. They were so close and yet so far away still. The chevroned mech laid down on the berth on his side, his mate following his lead, and soon both were laying together, legs loosely intertwined and arms wrapped around each other, bodies so close that their sparks were nearly touching. Jazz's spark sent small trickles of energy, brushing against Prowl's spark, pleading for the ethereal touch of its future mate. Prowl's spark emitted its own filaments of light, caressing the outer layer of that beautiful spark beckoning.

"Prowl," Jazz whispered, his tone pleading, feeling his spark yearning for the other. He felt as if his spark was now only a half, feeling oddly incomplete and lacking, needing Prowl's spark to complete it. Prowl nodded, feeling the same void in his spark begging him to join with Jazz's already and make it whole.

Their chests pressed together almost at unison, the sparks colliding and tendrils of light lashed out from both orbs of energy, the outer layers creating a reaction, repelling each other's energy, it hurt at first, and both mechs panted at the unexpected pain.

They pulled back for a moment, allowing the crackling energy to settle down for a moment, holding each other tight as they pressed their chests together once more, feeling the outer layer weaken. They pulled back again, fingers digging tightly into each other's plating as they gripped each other to resist the pain.

Jazz whimpered softly, it was an agony he had not expected, the pain of being so close yet their own sparks repelled, denying them the completion they desired. Prowl panted reassuring words of love, feeling the same agony but willing to stand the pain for the blissful reward that awaited them. Their chests pressed together again, with each collision the outer layer weakened more until it finally broke apart, allowing the sparks to begin their merging.

The further the sparks merged the more they lost sense of their physical beings, the pain faded away, their senses dulling until they ceased their function. The room stopped existing, and suddenly all that existed was a vastness, like a miniature universe formed by their merging consciousness. Prowl's consciousness felt a timid, tentative nudge, taking shape in a being of light realizing suddenly he, too was now a silhouette of pure light, shapeless at first, like the timid being before him.

This representation of himself within the universe that were their merged essences took shape, just a silhouette with his characteristic wings, arms, and a head crowned with tips that would be his chevron. The presence next to him took a familiar shape as well, the lovely fins and those stubby horns he adored. He felt joy irradiating from that being of light he knew to be Jazz, watching the silhouette swirl around him, dancing blissfully around him, beckoning him to join him.

He followed the dancing light that was his mate, feeling every emotion Jazz was feeling, his joy, his excitement, his gratitude, his love. He knew Jazz could feel his own emotions, watching the dancing light curling around him as their danced in the nothing and everything that were their merged sparks, leaving behind them a trail of light as they spiraled around each other, together searing higher and higher. Everything was open to each other, stars that were thoughts, feelings, memories, everything they were laid there for each to see.

Neither bothered at that moment, neither cared to see into the depths of each other's souls, at least for now. All they wanted was to bask in each other's presence, continuing their dance, glowing brighter as their did, until the light became so bright they couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, neither able to process any coherent thoughts anymore as their shared light engulfed everything filling them with a sense of peace and bliss.

Prowl's optics powered up feeling as if he had just awoken from recharge, Jazz's optics flickered on as well, alerting him his mate was slowly coming to as well. They smiled at each other before looking down at their chests pressed together. Where once were two sparks now floated a single, larger pulsing orb bright blue light almost white. The spark began to split gently and painlessly, a long tendril of light kept the two halves in contact until each nestled in their respective chambers, the link of energy fading as the chambers began to close.

Prowl brought a hand up to Jazz's now closed spark chamber, stroking the warm metal lovingly, feeling the pulse of a spark that was now partly his own. He could feel a part of Jazz nestled within his own spark, both now conscious of what each other felt, feeling their own touch on their mate's body in their own.

Jazz realized now why they were required to drink that special energon, feeling extremely tired and worn out. He sighed softly and allowed his chest plates to close once Prowl's hand retreated. They held each other close, relishing on the feeling of their proximity and the knowledge they were now really bonded.

Jazz murmured words of love to his mate, pressing tender, innocent kisses on his cheek as he snuggled close to Prowl, needing to recharge badly. Prowl murmured words of love back to his bondmate, holding Jazz close as he made himself comfortable and fell quickly into a much needed recharge.

Prowl felt tired as well but couldn't bring himself to initiate his recharge cycle, feeling oddly restless and yet so at peace. He watched Jazz's face, smiling at the peaceful, content expression on his attractive face. With Jazz cuddled against him, Prowl decided to pull out his sketch pad from his subspace, bringing a leg up to his chest to rest his pad against it, beginning to sketch, hoping the movement of his arm wouldn't rouse his mate from his sleep.

Jazz was not disturbed in the least, recharging peacefully against his mate while Prowl sketched. The chevroned mech smiled at his drawing, depicting those ethereal beings of light spiraling around each other surrounded by that universe in miniature. He finished his drawing, feeling his restlessness all but gone now, and after saving the drawing and subspacing his sketch pad and stylus, Prowl settled against Jazz, giving into the lull of recharge with his bonded.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (14/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Blaster, Tracks.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: I'm not entirely happy with how this chapter ended, but hopefully the next will make up for it. Sorry for the suckage, snugsbunny. Also, part of the 'bond' explanation drew inspiration from vericus' fics. Oh, and mmouse15 where should I send the chapters I'm having you beta reading? XD

Jazz could not remember a time in his life where he had recharged as good as the previous cycle. His systems onlined slowly, almost lazily, growing aware of the warmth of another body pressed against his own, but most importantly, aware of the presence within his own spark that let him know his beloved was still deeply in recharge.

He powered up an optic, bringing the lustrous white paint of his mate's chest into his field of view. Jazz powered on the other optic as a smile spread over his lips, his black fingers stroked lazily the smooth surface of Prowl's chest, feeling a trickle of contentment that did not come from him. It was a little unnerving at first to be aware of his mate's emotions like this. It wasn't unpleasant, but he admitted it felt strange to be this aware of what Prowl felt even though the mech was most definitely nowhere near to wake up.

The sensation was there to remind him that they were interlinked so deeply, bringing to his memory the long lecture they had to sit through with the medic who authorized and proportioned the enriched energon for their bonding. There would be a period of time in which their sparks would require the closeness of each other, otherwise they would agitate and grow anxious. It was a period where the merged spark now split in two would need to familiarize with the feeling of being apart. Time to allow the sparks to grow used to being housed in two different mechs rather than be one entity, and the farther apart they were, the more the sparks would seek each other, overriding logic processes in order to try to reconnect.

Reconnecting the sparks regularly for a couple of cycles was required so the sparks would settle down, so, in many cases, bonded pairs were given shorter shifts for while if their work places were close enough. In the case they weren't, both bondmates were given time off to spend together and allow their bond to stabilize.

In their case, Jazz was given the choice to suspend his patrol shifts and take on desk duties through his whole shift since he'd be close enough to Prowl. Patrolling was definitely out of question, as they both knew it would be reckless to allow Jazz to engage in a chase while his bond with Prowl was this new, his spark would yearn for Prowl's, the feeling would filter and echo in Prowl's spark and then feed his growing anxiety back to Jazz, crippling his performance and definitely endangering his partner. They were both also given the option of taking a vacation period if they wished, especially since Prowl had not had a vacation period since he was first transferred to Iacon by his own choice.

Jazz was going to accept to be put in desk duty until their bond had stabilized, knowing his mate worried about how his taking time off could affect the never ending backlog. However, Prowl decided to literally throw his working ethics and strong sense of duty through the proverbial window and declared they were taking a vacation period. Jazz was shocked at first, but he admitted to feel a little streak of pride in knowing Prowl decided to finally get some well deserved rest because of him. After all, Jazz reassured his mate he would do all within his power to help if things got too bad at the Headquarters.

Prowl had plans of the things they would be doing, places he wished to visit and time to spend together as the mates they were now. Jazz, of course, had no objection to that plan.

With Prowl still deeply in recharge, Jazz decided to let his mate continue his rest, but his systems were beginning to protest the excessive energy expenditure of the previous cycle, demanding refueling. Jazz carefully pushed himself away from his recharging mate and rose from the berth, stretching a little to work out the kinks of stiffened joints before heading for the kitchen and the refueling station. He filled a cube and drained the contents in one long sip, sighing contently as the fluid slid through his conduits, refreshing him and placating partly his systems' hunger.

Jazz picked two more cubes and filled them, heading for the door to see if his friends were still there, smiling warmly as he was greeted by the sight of Blaster and Tracks still standing guard at each side of the door's opening.

"Hey there," Jazz greeted, holding out the cubes. "Ya two still here? I thought you'd been ta your own quarters about a joor or two ago."

"We didn't want to leave until we were sure you two were fully online and recovered." Blaster smiled and accepted the offered cube readily, draining its contents greedily.

"Translation: He wanted to hear how the little deed go." Tracks smirked with amusement, watching Blaster sputter and cough as the energon was swallowed too fast.

Jazz laughed and patted his friend while Blaster cursed lowly at his own mate. "It went all right, we're both fully bonded now. Prowl's still rechargin' but I had ta get some fuel in, I had no idea the mergin' would take so much outta me."

"That's why medics insist in prescribing that enriched energon, if you aren't properly fueled by the time you initiate the process you could damage yourself or your partner, send each other into stasis lock or even offline yourselves." Tracks nodded gravely but his lips curled up into a smile a moment later. "Well, since it seems you two are all right, I believe it's time we take our leave. We have a transport waiting for us at the entrance."

"Yeah, thank ya so much for everythin'. Get some recharge you two." Jazz waved and watched his friends leave until they disappeared down the corridor. The black and white visored mech smiled to himself as he headed back to the kitchen, deciding to get some energon goodies prepared by the time Prowl onlined, knowing they would spend the cycle preparing for their vacation together.

Jazz hummed softly to himself while he retrieved the book file Prowl had gifted to him meta-cycles ago, flipping trough the files looking for something he'd feel like preparing.

---------------------

Prowl onlined to the feeling of something warm snuggling against him, and his olfactory sensors picking up the faint scent of sweetened energon and treats pervading the room. He powered up his optics, and the view of a pair of stubby black horns greeted him.

Jazz felt a wave of warm emotion, a fondness and love that beat into his spark, an echo of what Prowl was feeling, thus prompting him to look up at his mate. Prowl's optics flickered for a moment, feeling a flutter of joy in his spark that he knew had not come from him. He realized he was feeling an echo of Jazz's emotions through their newly formed bond and his wings twitched minutely at the strange feeling. Jazz smiled, feeling his confusion and concentrated in sending thoughts of love through that special link.

"It's our bond," Jazz murmured gently while he sent those loving feelings to his mate. Prowl nodded, understanding what their bond was doing, but still surprised at the unusual feeling. He felt Jazz's consciousness brush against his own, sending those comforting and warm feelings, and he understood Jazz had had a little more time to get used to these new sensations, to this new presence within his spark.

The medic they visited to prescribe the energon had warned them that at least during the first few cycles after the bond was formed they'd be feeling these echoes so strongly and would be very unsettling at first, hence why they'd require to be close for a while, both to give time to their bond to settle and to allow themselves to begin to control the amount of emotional input they would perceive in their sparks.

Eventually, the new presence and emotional input would become something so natural that they would no longer feel disconcerted nor distracted by the ability to feel each other's presence's and thoughts, permitting a physical separation without each bond going crazy with anxiety. The medic explained the bond would also allow them to track down each other, and after some time, they could communicate their thoughts to each other in a way similar to a private com link.

"This will take a bit ta get used to, huh?" Jazz laughed softly, stroking his bonded's cheek gently.

"A little, yes," Prowl admitted but smiled and nuzzled the black fingers that caressed his face, deciding to experiment a little himself he concentrated in sending feelings of love back to his mate, feeling his mate curl a little closer, his spark filling with happiness at this new way to caress each other with their thoughts, feelings and emotions.

They lay like that for a few breems, giving each other time to grow more and more familiar with each other's presence within each other, until Prowl's systems began to protest vehemently the lack of nourishment. Jazz laughed softly, feeling Prowl's irritation as his systems flashed warnings about the low levels of energon and pushed himself away from his mate, vacating their berth just to pick the tray with energon and goodies he had set down in the nearby table.

They consumed the treats and energon amidst discussing their plans to enjoy their vacation, primarily where they wanted to spend them. It didn't take long for both of them to decide to visit Praxus, not only because Prowl hailed from there, but because the city was an important cultural and artistic center. Jazz had visited Praxus as a youngling and had fallen in love with the many wonders the city offered. Prowl commented the would be a festival in the upcoming cycles, something that cemented their decision to visit Praxus.

---------------------

A transport took them from Iacon to Praxus, and the pair was immediately in motion, heading for the living arrangements they rented for the duration of their trip. On their way there, Prowl stopped at a small residential area bordered by small clusters of glittering pinkish crystals.

"Know this place?" Jazz asked as he followed Prowl closer to the fence created by the crystals.

"Yes," Prowl responded and pointed towards a block of living units, more specifically towards the second top most window. "I used to live there with my sire when I was a sparkling."

"There?" Jazz moved a little closer, noticing some silhouettes moving inside the living unit Prowl showed him.

Prowl nodded and smiled fondly, his spark filled with a feeling of fondness, projecting that feeling to his mate's spark. "Yes, that's the window of what used to be my room."

Jazz gasped in surprise as an image flashed through his CPU, so fast all he could recall about it was the shape of a sparkling. He realized he had caught a flash of a memory from Prowl and smiled fondly as his spark felt the echo of his mate's happiness at being back in his home. "Come on, we have much to see." Prowl took Jazz's hand and tugged gently, leading his bondmate to the place they'd be staying at.

Along the way Prowl stopped to point at certain places or buildings: The headquarters of the force where Prowl served until his transference to Iacon, the local mausoleum where his creator's plaque was displayed, the museum where some of the greatest pieces of art in all of Cybertron were in display, a theatre where actors and musicians performed regularly, and the road that led to the revered gardens for which Praxus was most famous. Places Jazz before in Prowl's drawings and a few of which he had seen in person a long time ago.

As he was led to their temporary quarters, Jazz smiled with excitement, looking forward to the time they'd spend in Praxus.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (15/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: I wasn't sure where I wanted to finish this chapter, so I hope the ending isn't too abrupt. Hope ya like snugsbunny. I think we're gonna do a time warp after this one. XP

The artificial lights of the city were in full force by the time they reached their temporary quarters, the lights reflected against the crystals that seemed to sprout out of every surface in the area, twinkling beautifully in the dark sky.

That was one of the things that made Jazz fall in love with Praxus, there were crystals growing everywhere and they were often integrated into the architecture and design of the city and its buildings.

The crystals weren't exclusive to Praxus, there could be different kinds with different shades in some other cities, Iacon itself had some in a couple of parks, but they were usually smaller and seemed rather lacking. Here in Praxus the crystals were abundant, bright, clear, in all kinds of different shades, possessing an intrinsic beauty, and no other city or region within Cybertron seemed capable of sprouting such beautiful crystals.

After they settled in their temporary living arrangements, the pair headed for the main plaza, bursting with life. There were vendors all around the large fountain in the geographical center of the city. The fountain was formed by beautifully sculpted crystals, the liquid that filled the fountain glowed in a matching shade of blue, casting an ethereal glow over the crystal sculptures --a sight Jazz found gorgeous.

A tugging on his hand had Jazz turning to look at his mate, bringing a wide smile to his lips. Prowl smiled back and squeezed Jazz's hand a little. "Come, I want to show you something."

Jazz nodded and followed Prowl to one of the establishments, the lights were dim, almost non existent, as most of the illumination was provided by the twinkling reflections of the crystals affixed to the walls. Prowl led his bonded to one of the tables on the far end of the room, close to the counter. "I'll be back in a moment." The chevroned mech strode towards the counter, calling the attention of the mech behind it. After a moment Prowl was back holding a tray of sorts containing beautiful bowls, pots, canisters and glasses carved from green crystals.

"I didn't know everyone used the crystals so much around here." Jazz pointed towards the utensils Prowl had brought to their table, taking notice of a small heating unit.

"Not everyone does. This is one of the few establishments that uses the crystals to produce their serving sets. Most places prefer pre-produced sets, while these were hand made by the artisan who owns this shop." Prowl began to set aside the utensils and canisters, arranging the bowls and glasses on the strange box-like tray.

Jazz watched Prowl arrange everything meticulously, casting a glance around as he heard some music coming from outside, a familiar melody that brought memories of a night in a bar, singing that same song for the one who was now his bondmate. Unlike his take, however, Jazz realized this version was interpreted in what he assumed to be a dialect he was not familiar with.

Sensing Jazz's sudden curiosity about the melody, Prowl laughed softly, pouring some heated cleanser on the glasses and bowls as well as one of the pots. "They're singing backwards."

"Backwards?" Jazz's visor flickered a couple of times and concentrated all his attention in the voices singing outside, realizing they were, in fact, singing backwards.

"It's because of the time." Prowl murmured as he took a pair of ornate tweezers to pick the cups and drop the cleanser into the small bowls. "The festival will start officially during the early joors of the next cycle. Traditionally, this song is sung backwards to welcome the travelers and merchants that return back home for the festival. Even if technically they are welcoming anyone coming for the festival, whether it is a Praxan or not, but the original intent was to say 'Welcome home' to those who'd been away from home for a long time."

"Oh. It's fittin' for ya, isn't it? Yer comin' back home after so long." Jazz smiled and watched what Prowl was doing with interest, realizing there was quite a bit of a process behind whatever it was he was doing. "This looks a little..."

"complicated?"

"No." the visored mech shook his head, following with his gaze everything Prowl was doing. "Jus' very intricate, lots of things ta do."

Prowl nodded and poured the heated energon mix he prepared into a long cup, covering it with a small bowl and setting it down on a rectangular saucer of sorts, carefully setting the saucer and cups before Jazz before doing the same for himself. "My sire used to bring me to this place when I was a sparkling."

"Really?" Jazz smiled warmly, perceiving that feeling of fondness coming from Prowl within his spark. Prowl nodded and showed Jazz how to hold the longer cup and how to turn it around to transfer the energon to the tiny bowls. Jazz jumped a little again as another image flashed on his CPU, once more too fast to make much out of the image aside a tiny sparkling holding the drinking cup in. "I think yer projectin' memories across the bond." He laughed softly, watching Prowl look at him with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

"Ya were a cute sparklin', ya know?" Jazz teased and reached to take Prowl's hand across the table, squeezing it gently. "Thanks," Prowl murmured with a little smile, returning to his hot drink and squeezing Jazz's hand back. After a while they headed back to their living unit to get some rest, their excitement for all they had seen so far and would see the next cycle filtering through their bond.

--------------------------

Jazz was elated, visiting some of the places of great importance in Praxus, allowing Prowl to show him around and surprised of how well the chevroned mech remembered the layout of the entire city despite all the time that had passed since he left for Iacon.

They toured the public areas of the enforcers' headquarters in Praxus, and the memorial wall where the name of Prowl's partner during his time as a field operative was located. Prowl shared some stories about the elderly mech who was his partner and trainer.

They visited the museum next and Jazz was surprised by all the different works of art in display, though Jazz couldn't help but feel the museum was missing artwork from, in his opinion, one of the best artists in Cybertron, who casually happened to be holding his hand all through their tour.

As the cycle dragged on, Prowl decided to take Jazz to one last place before they headed to the plaza to partake in the festivities. The visored mech looked around in confusion as he was led to a long semi open area full of ornate and intricate
rows of monoliths and walls. Prowl approached one of the walls and Jazz realized then they were in the mausoleum.

The chevroned mech searched through the lines of golden plaques, stopping at the one spelling his creator's designation, brushing white fingers along the glyphs engraved in the metal, below the name the deactivation date was also displayed.

"Is that your creator?" Jazz asked solemnly, feeling a pang of sadness and a little guilt coursing through his being, although he hoped Prowl wouldn't feel that. By the date engraved in the plaque, Prowl's sire deactivated when his mate was barely a youngling.

"Yes," Prowl replied softly, feeling the pang of sadness and guilt from his mate resonating in his spark. "Do not be sad," Prowl murmured and pulled Jazz close, nuzzling Jazz's cheek with his own. "I'm not alone now."

Jazz nodded and hugged his bonded close, offering comfort and basking in the comfort Prowl offered him in return. After a moment Jazz pulled away and brushed his fingers along the plaque. "Care ta introduce us?"

Prowl quirked an optic ridge but nodded, speaking to the plaque as if his creator was there, listening and interacting with them. He knew that was a custom in Polyhex, where Jazz came from, and introduced his mate to his deceased sire, asking for his blessings and protection for himself and his mate. Jazz greeted Prowl's creator, promising to take good care of him in his name.

They lingered for a while, until Prowl decided it was time to go so they could catch the beginning of the festival before the plaza would get too crowded. Jazz's mood was still somewhat somber, fighting back to suppress memories he didn't wish to project into his mate, he was not ready to reveal those to Prowl yet.

"Are you all right?" Prowl asked as he led Jazz across the streets, feeling a strong apprehension coming from Jazz, a little too much for comfort. It was beginning to distract him and distress him.

Jazz shook his head, finally noticing the effect his apprehension was producing on his mate. "I'll be fine, it was just... an experience I wasn't expectin'."

Prowl nodded, blue optics dimming a little. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't say yer sorry, love." Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl, hugging him tight and resting his head against his shoulder. "I'm glad I got ta meet yer father, I jus' couldn't help but think 'bout how hard it must have been for ya when you lost him." Jazz pressed a loud kiss on Prowl's cheek, laughing a little at the other mech's unamused expression at the very loud smacking sound he produced right next to his audio. "C'mon, let's go have some fun."

They reached the plaza before the serious festivities began. At the moment there was a group of performers providing music while mechs, femmes, younglings and sparklings alike moved around, going from one stall to another. Others were dancing around the fountain to the upbeat melodies the performers played.

Prowl eased himself down over one of the well kept benches bordering the streets, Jazz was a few steps away, enjoying himself greatly as he danced around while Prowl watched him with a little smile on his lips.

Prowl had always admired the grace with which Jazz moved, regardless of what he was doing, there was always a gracious, elegant and stylish quality to his movements. Since he was alone in the bench, Prowl decided to indulge himself for a few moments and pulled his sketch pad from subspace, scribbling down a sketch of Jazz as he danced to the interesting mixture of upbeat yet quite regal melody, something that definitely could be associated with the parties at the Towers in Iacon sans the very upbeat tones.

Prowl watched Jazz dance for a while as he sketched, quirking an optic ridge with amusement as mechs and femmes, even younglings and sparklings tried to score a dance with his talented bondmate. His amusement had Jazz turning to face him as he was asked for a dance. Prowl merely smirked and nodded, watching Jazz accept the invitation from a pair of little femmes, dancing along the younglings who were elated to have been picked for a dance with the handsome and stylish mech.

After a couple of dances Jazz decided he had enough and danced his way to the bench, sitting down next to his mate. "Having fun?" Prowl asked as he saved his sketch, allowing Jazz to take a peek at the drawing before closing the file. "Mmhmm." Jazz nodded and leaned a little against Prowl, watching everyone enjoying themselves as the festival officially started.

They were both thoroughly worn out yet euphoric by the time they were back on their temporary quarters, all but collapsing in their berth together. Jazz nuzzled against Prowl, pressing a loving kiss to his lips, and despite how worn out he felt after the events of the cycle, his spark was filled with joy and excitement, both his own and the echo from Prowl's. Even though they were tired, their sparks longed for one another to share the euphoria coursing through them, bodies growing receptive as soft, tender kisses became more heated and passionate, surrendering themselves to the mutual need for each other in wonderful love making.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (16/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Blaster, Tracks, Steeljaw.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And this is the part where we do that jump to the left! I hope you like, snugsbunny. :D

If anyone ever told Prowl life couldn't get any better a deca-cycle ago, he would have agreed. Now, though, life had most definitely become even better.

He huffed a little and dropped himself on the floor of the new living unit he and his bondmate had been given shortly after Jazz received a promotion. He himself had received a promotion of his own earlier that meta-cycle, and both were given a much larger living unit.

They had been bonded for ten vorns already, and their relationship kept getting better and better, just as they kept rising among the ranks in their respective works. Jazz insisted in remaining a field operative despite the many promotions he had earned through the vorns, which made Prowl quite happy, he didn't want his mate to ever stop doing what he loved.

Through the vorns their relationship strengthened, adapting and overcoming any new challenge that presented in their lives. They had developed a strong bond, not only in the form of the actual spark bond they shared. Both learned to use their bond to the maximum advantage be it in their work or their personal life, learning to locate each other wherever the other went, always knowing the other was fine and safe thanks to that link, and even through those rare occasions when they had arguments, neither ever regretted for a click their decision to bond with each other.

They had no secrets for each other in regards to their present lives and their hopes and plans for the future, and Jazz had been slowly opening up parts of his past he felt he wanted to share with Prowl, and Prowl had shared all his life with Jazz. From the moment he lost his only creator as a youngling, to the moment they met for the first time.

"This is goin' ta take some work," Jazz spoke as he plopped down next to Prowl, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "I can't believe they gave us this place."

Prowl nodded, tilting his head a little to touch Jazz's sensory horn with his helm. "I had no complaints about our previous unit. This place is so much bigger."

"I'mma miss our old pool, though," Jazz laughed softly, powering down his optic and just enjoying his mate's company, basking in his physical presence and that part of his spark that was Prowl's.

Prowl chuckled and wrapped an arm around Jazz's waist. "Well, we can get a new one, and christen that one, as you would say, with style."

Jazz's rich, melodic laughter echoed in the ample room --a sound Prowl considered the most beautiful music the universe would ever see. "Well, love, I ain't one to say no to that kind of proposition."

Prowl smiled and produced a data pad and opened a file that was a catalogue for such pools, poking his mate gently to get his attention. They began to review the catalogue to decide upon a new pool, deciding they wanted something a little bigger this time since they had a bigger wash rack this time. "Oh, by the way, would you agree if I propose our unit to be given to Blaster and Tracks?" He asked as he looked over the specifications of one of the pools displayed in the page.

"Yeah. I'm actually glad ya wanna do that, they're goin' ta need the extra space," Jazz replied absently as he pressed a finger against the picture of one of the pools to bring up a holographic, interactive display of the pool.

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm, Blaster told me he confirmed with the medic he's spark splittin'." Jazz's lip components twisted in a frown, not very convinced about the pool and he pressed his finger to the screen again, dissolving the display. "Seems in a couple a deca-cycles we're gonna be welcomin' a new sparklet to Cybertron."

Prowl turned to look at Jazz, surprised about the news. "That soon? I thought sparklings took longer to develop."

"It's because Blaster's a carrier." Jazz looked up from the catalogue to look into his mate's optics. "From what he's told me, carriers can successfully split their sparks into smaller portions that can become fully functional sparklin's in a few deca-cycles. I think they can have a load of 'em, actually."

"That still seems like an awfully short time for a sparkling to develop, though."

"That's because it ain't goin' to be a normal sparklin'." Jazz scratched a horn, trying to recall all the details Blaster so excitedly blurted about his upcoming offspring. "He said it's gonna be like a symbiote or somethin', the sparklin' will recharge inside of him for the rest of his life."

"That's... unusual."

"Yeah, but he's happy 'bout it an' Tracks is enjoyin' the idea as well." Jazz flipped through the files, finding a pool he liked which he showed to his mate. "But the extra room would be nice, even if the sparklet recharges inside Blaster it's gonna need a place of its own when it turns older."

Prowl nodded his agreement and looked at the pool the visored mech showed him. They discussed the pros and cons of the pool before making a call make their purchase. With that settled, Jazz headed for the kitchen and the energon dispenser to pour a couple of cubes for themselves. They began to discuss how they wished to arrange their possessions in their new home until it was time for recharge. As they had not picked a room to move their berth into yet, they decided to 'camp' in the living room, recharging on portable sets of padding and huddled against each other, resting for the first time in their new home. Somehow, in the brink of unconsciousness, Jazz felt this was the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

--------------------------

Home decor was most definitely not one of Prowl's strengths, despite his artistic skills and fine optic for detail. He concentrated in arranging their furniture and possessions in a functional manner, leaving the touch ups to his stylish mate. They looked around the different rooms, finally deciding which one would become their room. All rooms were rather large, but they chose the one with the best view of the city.

After several cycles in between their work shifts and the furnishing and decorating of the living unit, Jazz finally declared their new home was officially ready, hanging a beautiful crystal bell on the wall of the kitchen, a souvenir they acquired in Praxus vorns ago.

"Ya know," Jazz said conversationally as he and Prowl began to prepare energon goodies together. "This place is so much bigger, it feels almost empty with just th'two of us. It's so much space."

Prowl nodded "Well, we can always turn the spare rooms into something else. We're not in a hurry to use all the extra space, or are we?"

"Guess not, I just got used to how cozy our old home was." The visored mech smiled at his mate, playfully flickering a little of powder at him. Prowl scowled for a moment but shook his head at his now very messy mate, knowing it was Jazz's not very subtle way to let him know he wanted to christen that new pool as soon as possible, preferably during the cycle.

Jazz tore his processors away from the pleasurable thoughts of bathing with his bondmate in their new pool, and then doing other things that were not related to getting clean. "Oh, Blaster told me their transfer was approved, which is a good thing, they gotta get the sparklet's protoform ready soon. Maybe we could lend 'em a hand settling in?"

"Already?" Prowl quirked an optic ridge. "Just how soon is that sparkling going to be fully developed?"

"The protoform is special, it'll need a lot of checkin' by the medics, the sooner they get it the better, in case anythin' needs ta be replaced." Jazz laughed softly, surprised at how knowledgeable he was becoming just by listening to his friend happily sharing details about his symbiote.

"Well, once they're given the clear we can go and help them to move in and install themselves."

"Sounds good ta me!"

--------------------------

The following deca-cycles passed quicker than they expected and Prowl felt himself humbled by the opportunity their friends were sharing with them, allowing him and Jazz to be present during the moment the little spark fragment that separated from Blaster's spark infused the small protoform. It was to everyone's surprise the sparkling turned to be something nobody, not even Blaster were prepared for.

The basic protoform took to a quadrupedal shape, and where they expected a tiny sparkling possibly in orange or blue colors, the golden sparkling turned out to be more like a cyber cat than any the sparklings all were familiar with. The sparkling was diminutive, so small it fit on Blaster's large hand just fine with room to spare.

The medic explained Blaster had created a primitive, a rare kind of mechlet that would be incapable of speech but highly intelligent and most definitely possessing of qualities that other Cybertronians would not. It was a surprise and Tracks was mildly disturbed about the new development, they had been expecting a sparkling that would be like them, not one that looked more like it belonged in the hunting grounds.

Blaster however, was not bothered by his creation's condition, he was shocked, of course, but anyone could see right away the bond of love the bitlet shared with its creator already. Blaster picked the sparkling, cupping the tiny body in his hands and bringing the feline's face to his own, bumping his nose gently against the sparklings to gain its attention.

The golden sparkling whimpered, even its sounds were most definitely primitive, not even producing clicks and soft whirrs like normal sparklings did, and still, a smile crept into Blaster's lip components tenderly nuzzling his creation.

Jazz couldn't help but reach to hold Prowl's hand and squeeze it, feeling concerned about the future of this family due to the unexpected development.

Blaster seemed to share his concerns and worries, as he turned a worried glance at Tracks. Tracks realized all optics were on him and his reaction and pushed aside his apprehension due to the appearance of the sparkling, he knew it would be different, he just never expected it to be this much. Regardless it was still his sparkling, too, due to the bond he shared with Blaster, even if the splitting was in response to his mate's carrier nature.

Tracks approached Blaster and the sparkling, smiling a little to his mate and sending comforting thoughts through their bond before he reached a hand tentatively, brushing his fingers gently over the tip of one of the sparkling's ears. The sparkling whimpered again but flickered his ear, turning his attention to Tracks. The red faced mech could definitely feel a little of the sparkling's presence within his spark, there was a connection between them through Blaster, and the mechlet seemed to recognize that connection, nuzzling its head against Tracks' hand.

Prowl shifted a little, feeling like an intruder in such private moment. He felt Jazz lean more against him, both of them watching their friends welcome the little Primitive into their lives, becoming a family. Jazz looked up at him and smiled before turning back to see his friend, happy to see Blaster happy with his sparkling and his mate.

---------------------

Blaster and Tracks choose to name their sparkling Steeljaw in honor of the impressive bite the little one possessed, having bitten more medical staff that prodded him in ways he didn't like than Blaster cared to count. Steeljaw was still tiny and tired easily, but was already developing wonderfully for his kind. He was curious and playful and most definitely adored to be the center of attention.

And Jazz was certainly lavishing attention on the sparkling just fine, holding Steeljaw against him and talking to him in sing song, amused by the mildly annoyed look the sparkling would throw his way after the attention got to be too much for even him to stand. Prowl laughed and watched Steeljaw decide Jazz was talking too much and pressed a little golden paw to the visored mech's lips in a very blunt request for Jazz to shut up already and let him nap.

"Blaster won't ask you to look after Steeljaw again if you keep doing that." Prowl smirked a little, sparing a glance to his mate over his data pad, Jazz currently sitting down across his desk in his office with the sparkling.

"I know, I know. I can't help it, though, ya gotta admit he's unlike anythin' we've ever seen before, it's amazing ta be able to even hold him." Jazz smirked when Steeljaw glared up at him for being loud again before the sparkling huddled against the crook of his arm, making himself comfortable for his nap.

"He is, but you're lucky he likes you, or else you'd be testing why they called him Steeljaw." Prowl watched his mate with amusement, feeling Jazz's excitement through their bond. As Jazz picked up a pad from the desk to help Prowl with what reports he could finish for him, the chevroned mech watched his mate for a while. He finished the report he had been working on and extracted his sketch pad and stylus --although he rarely ever allowed himself to sketch at work, he couldn't help but want to capture the image of his bonded holding the recharging sparkling, deciding as he sketched, that he'd draw one of Steeljaw alone for Blaster and Tracks.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (17/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Red Alert, Steeljaw. Mention of Blaster, Tracks and Inferno.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Brace yourselves for more Steeljawness, shamelessly encouraged by snugsbunny.

Prowl had the nagging suspicion Jazz was up to something. His bonded's behavior in the past few cycles had been unusual, a sure sign Jazz was plotting something that involved him in one way or another, and he wasn't sure whether to try to find out what Jazz was plotting or hide somewhere where his bondmate wouldn't find him and drag him into whatever shenanigans he was up to.

He could feel his mirth and shameless glee through their bond despite Jazz's half sparked attempts to mute the echoes of his emotions. Prowl was certain whatever Jazz was up to he was going to find out as soon as he stepped out of his office, prompting once more the dilemma about whether or not he should set foot outside of his sacred office.

But as the end of his shift approached, Prowl decided it was best to just endure whatever mischief his mate had planned and get over with it. When his internal chronometer warned him of the end of his shift, Prowl took a small stack of pending reports he subspaced, deciding to finish those at home.

As soon as he stepped out of the office he saw a small group of mechs and femmes standing around the door of Red Alert's office. He quirked an optic ridge when he saw Jazz on the background, holding both of his hands to his mouth as if to quiet himself down, his frame vibrating lightly with repressed laughter --it was then when he noticed one of the females had something golden and decidedly alive in her arms.

Before he could even utter the low curse that was forming in his vocal processors, Red Alert stepped from his office, and as soon as he did, the femme greeted the security director before that golden sparkling leaped into the air towards Red Alert's face, sputtering a loud but far from threatening roaring sound. There were a couple of clicks of absolute silence while Steeljaw clung so happily to Red Alert's head.

"Blaster!!"

The loud roar of indignity coming from the security director had Prowl wincing as he was a bit too close to the screaming mech, his audio receptors protesting the loud sound. The mechs and femmes standing around all collapsed in fits of laughter, some even dropping to the ground to add some dramatics to the situation.

"Get him off me this instant!" Red Alert stood still, ramrod straight as his fingers curled and uncurled into tense fists. "Now!!"

The loud roar coming from Red Alert managed to startle Steeljaw enough for him to loosen his grip, suddenly falling to the ground but not without leaving a couple of scratches on Red Alert's face and helm.

The laughter died down very quickly when Steeljaw hit the ground and whinned pathetically, looking up at Red Alert with a truly terrified expression, fearing this mech would hurt him. "This is inexcusable!" Red Alert glared at all the mechs and femmes around before he cast a heated glare at the sparkling. "Why in Primus name is this sparkling even allowed here? This is no place for them!"

"Hey, hey! Calm down Red," Jazz pushed past the gathering of mechs and quickly collected Steeljaw in his arms, watching the sparkling curl against him, seeking his protection. "Don't take it out on 'im! It ain't his fault, ya know?"

"That's irrelevant. He still should not be allowed here, and besides, why did you allow this to happen?" Red Alert pointed an accusing finger at Jazz, taking a step forward and earning a loud whine from the, by now, shaking and scared sparkling. "I thought he was under your care when Blaster isn't around. What kind of guardian are you?"

"That's quite enough, Red Alert." Prowl pushed past the mechs in his way, holding Red Alert's arm. Red Alert glared at him but relented, turning his glare at Jazz once again. Prowl also turned his gaze to Jazz, although his was definitely not hostile, but certainly stern. "Jazz, was Steeljaw under your care?"

Jazz's mouth twisted into a deep scowl, an expression Prowl really didn't like to see on his mate's faceplates, it just didn't suit his beloved's face. "No, I was on patrol 'till a few breems ago. She," Jazz nudged his head towards the femme kneeling on the ground looking scared out of her plating herself. "Was carryin' Steeljaw 'round."

All optics turned to the femme in question, Red Alert glaring energon daggers at her while Prowl looked at her with that stern expression. "Would you be so kind to explain the situation?" He prompted.

The femme was quick to her feet, quickly informing them Blaster was required somewhere else and Steeljaw refused to stay within his chest compartment, and she was asked to watch over him for a couple of breems and the subsequent discovery Steeljaw was doing that pouncing on unsuspecting victims, and along with a couple of her co-workers they began to prank others using Steeljaw.

Prowl's optics narrowed a little, his mouth drawn into a tight line that spoke of how displeased he was with that confession. "I will not fill reports on any of you this time, as no serious damage was done," he glared at Red Alert when he felt the mech tense, ready to protest that but refrained from it under Prowl's glare. "However, this behavior is irresponsible, someone could have been harmed. You purposefully placed Steeljaw in a situation that could have endangered the sparkling, and I believe I don't need to mention the irony of us, enforcers endangering a life rather than protecting it."

"I will be lenient this time and this will not go to your records. Regardless there will be disciplinary actions taken." He turned his glance to Jazz who was stroking the still very scared Steeljaw. "Jazz, please collect the names of all present. I want all of you to report to the armory for inventory duty."

No one dared to let out the groans forming in their processors, nobody willing to tempt their luck any further. Jazz approached his mate and carefully set Steeljaw in his arms before he pulled a data pad to write down the names of the mechs and femmes involved. Prowl turned to Red Alert who was glaring angrily at the sparkling, prompting a soft whine from Steeljaw whose ears were now flat against his head. "Red Alert, I need a word with you."

"Save it, Prowl. I stand by what I said, this isn't a place for sparklings!"

"And I agree. This has proven Steeljaw shouldn't be here." Prowl's voice was calm and collected while his hand stroked the sparkling's back gently, trying to ease him. "That doesn't excuse your own behavior. It's not Steeljaw's fault if our elements' processors are stuck in their younglinghood. You owe him an apology."

"But Prowl!" Red Alert tried to protest, but the glint in Prowl's optics stopped him. He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his scratched face plates. He knew Inferno would blow a gasket if he heard of this, furthermore, Prowl was right, it wasn't Steeljaw's fault. "All right. I'm sorry Steeljaw, I didn't mean to yell at you."

Steeljaw lifted his head, tilting it as he heard the genuine apologetic tone in the red and white mech's voice. The sparkling let out a soft mewl, pulling a paw out he held out to Red Alert. The security director looked at the offered paw with confusing, looking from the paw to Steeljaw and then to Prowl. "Take his paw," Prowl replied, fighting back the smile threatening to spread over his lips.

Red Alert gave him a weird look but did as he was told, taking Steeljaw's paw between his thumb and index finger, giving a little shake. Steeljaw purred and let go of the other mech, curling contently against Prowl's chest. "That... was strange."

"I'd say you'll get used to it, but I intend to make sure Steeljaw isn't brought over anymore." Prowl stroked the sparkling's back, watching Jazz bark an order at the mechs and femmes to report to the armory and heading back to them, scowl still in place.

"I apologize, Jazz," Red Alert mumbled, feeling through his own bond his mate was not far. "I lost my temper, I'm sorry."

"S'cool, Red." The scowl Jazz sported dissolved into an understanding smile, nudging his head to the side to warn Red Alert of Inferno approaching. The larger red mech greeted them and asked his mate if they were ready to go, showing obvious concern for Red Alert despite his attempts to hide it. Red Alert brushed it off, assuring his mate he was fine and that just needed a quick stop at the medical wing to tend to the scratches on his face, explaining Steeljaw had been a bit too affectionate with him.

Prowl and Jazz watched the pair stroll away, the visored mech turned to look at his mate, smiling a little at how tender Prowl was while handling the sparkling.

"You knew what they were up to, didn't you?" Prowl asked as he turned to face his mate, his gentle strokes along Steeljaw's back never ceased.

"I saw 'em nail the first victims, but it was all harmless fun at that point. Nobody reacted bad to Steeljaw an' he was havin' fun so I just followed them 'round ta make sure they wouldn't get in trouble." Jazz admitted, scratching a sensory horn. "I saw 'em coming here an' they were talkin' about doin' that to you, so..."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge. "Thanks for the timely warning."

Jazz shrugged sheepishly. "I know ya can take the joke, love. If I had realized sooner they went after Red Alert instead I would've stopped 'em."

"Just how did all of you miss my door? My name is right there."

Jazz smiled sheepishly "I dunno 'bout them but I was too busy thinkin' about the expression ya would get on yer face when Steeljaw did his trick that I didn't notice they were standing on Red's door."

The chevroned mech released a long exasperated sigh. "Well, things could have gone worse than they did, but what Red Alert said holds true. This proves it." Prowl smiled down at the sparkling now on the verge of recharge before he turned back to look at his mate. "Steeljaw is becoming more active and curious, Jazz. Blaster won't be able to keep him within his chest compartment for long periods anymore, what happened just now is bound to repeat itself, and the consequences could be far worse than Red Alert getting some scratches."

Jazz nodded gravely. "Blaster ain't goin' ta like it, but yer right, Steeljaw needs ta be in a controlled an' safe environment, he's gotta stay with Tracks durin' Blaster's shifts."

Just as they discussed the matter, Blaster came rushing through the halls with a panicked expression, seemingly on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The two black and whites calmed the mech who had felt his symbiote's distress and had al but bolted out of his post to find him. Once calmed, Jazz and Prowl breached the situation about Steeljaw with his creator, and thankfully, Blaster agreed with them, deciding the sparkling would stay back home with Tracks.

--------------------------

Jazz sighed contently, feeling warm and snuggly as he stepped into his and Prowl's room after washing himself. He grinned to himself as he watched Prowl sitting down on the recliner they had on the balcony of their room, sketch pad and stylus in hand.

Jazz hummed softly, running a finger casually along one of the tips of Prowl's red chevron, smiling as Prowl lifted his pad up to allow Jazz to make himself comfortable on his lap, pillowing his head on Prowl's shoulder as he watched his bonded draw a landscape of the city. They had a wonderful view and Prowl was making sure to capture it, familiarizing himself with the new layout.

Jazz hummed a little louder, watching Prowl smile at him without looking away from his drawing. Prowl loved when Jazz sung or hummed for him, finding Jazz's melodic voice and melodies to be incredibly inspiring. The visored mech looked up at his bondmate's handsome face and couldn't help but think about the way Prowl looked while he handled Steeljaw earlier that cycle, so confident on what he was doing, so certain he was tending the sparkling properly. Jazz couldn't help but wonder what Prowl would be like handling sparklings of his own.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (18/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Angstage. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Because snugsbunny will have my hide if I leave her with the cliffhanger for long. Excuse the bit of angst.

When Prowl took his mate for a bath on their ample wash racks that cycle, he expected a few things, but Jazz blurting out of the blue he wanted a sparkling was not one of them. Whatever amorous plans he harbored were promptly shot down by his bonded's admission.

A sparkling. Were they ready for that? Well, they were in a very good moment in their careers, they had most definitely enough spare room to house a sparkling, acquiring enough supplies of specially graded energon for the sparkling would be no problem, upgrades and other things the developing Cybertronian would need could be easily covered just on his income alone. Economically speaking, they were in a great moment to have sparklings.

But Prowl's concern was not about whether they could afford to have a sparkling or not. His concern was about the time factor and things in their lives they'd have to put on hold if they had one. His position in the Force was high enough and his dedication had afforded him plenty of time for a medical leave if he became the carrier, and although he'd need to control the amount of stress he could be subjected to for the healthy development of the spark, he could very well afford to become a creator. The problem wasn't if he could be a creator, the problem was Jazz.

"Ya don't want to." Jazz's voice broke through his musings, bringing him back to the here and now.

"I never said I didn't want a sparkling, Jazz." Prowl paused, thinking carefully how to word his worries. "I am just... concerned about whether we're ready for one."

Jazz's mouth curved a little into a frown. "Prowl, jus' when is one ready for a sparklin'? Blaster--"

"Jazz, Blaster sparked a symbiote and even he has had some problems with Steeljaw, and you know it." Prowl hated to see his mate's expression turn more and more somber, disappointment filtering vividly through their bond.

"It ain't like only one of us would be carin' for it?" Jazz asked hopefully, looking up at his mate.

"Jazz, I am not adverse to us having a sparkling and I am more than willing to care for it as much as I care for my bondmate." Prowl paused.

"But?" Jazz's mood was spiraling down easier than a ground bound mech falling off the top of a building.

Prowl hated doing this, the disappointment filtering through their bond kept increasing exponentially as he spoke. "But... are you ready for the sparkling? Do you realize what a sparkling would mean in our lives? The changes and sacrifices we'd have to do for it?"

"I wouldn't mind!" Jazz replied eagerly. "I know things change with a sparklin', but Prowl--"

"Jazz, if we have a sparkling you would have to give up your work as field operative and accept a desk position in the force." Prowl frowned, feeling a tug in his spark, feeling guilt over the words he was speaking, even though they were true. He didn't want to make his mate unhappy, but these were concerns that had to be addressed.

Jazz froze at that moment, realization crashing on him with such force he only remained standing because Prowl was holding him. He had never thought about that, the idea he'd have to give up his career as a field operative, even if temporary, never ever crossed his processors.

Prowl's expression softened, able to read on Jazz's face that the mech had not considered the situation, and feeling like the worst bondmate in the universe for bringing this much unhappiness to the mech he loved beyond reason, but these things had to be said for their own good in the long run. "Jazz, if I were the carrier, even then it would be unwise to allow you in the field."

Jazz said nothing, merely looking away and resting his head against his bonded's chest. Prowl was right, even if the chevroned mech carried, their emotions would intensify through their bond, and even if they muted it when Jazz was on patrol duty, the muting itself could become detrimental to Prowl's emotional state and thus to the sparkling. And if he became the carrier he would be out of the field hands down from the second the sparkling was confirmed.

Could he give up the career for which he worked so hard to attain? The career for which he defied mechs and walked away from his younglinghood's home? The career that indirectly brought him to his mate?

"Jazz, I wouldn't want to create my children with anyone but you," Prowl murmured, loathing every second of what he was doing, yet the price was too high to overlook this. "But if we're not ready for the sacrifices that must be done, that would harm the sparkling in the long run. I want you to be happy Jazz, and if you give up something that makes you happy there's no guarantee that negative feelings towards the sparkling wouldn't develop."

To hate his sparkling for bringing an end to his dreams. That was what Prowl was trying to make him see. Was he really ready to give up that dream so their child would be cherished and loved like it should and not looked upon as the source of his unhappiness?

Jazz wasn't sure anymore. He had no answer for that question, at least not yet. He didn't want to hate his sparkling, he wanted to love it and feel that same pride and love Blaster felt for Steeljaw, to give it all the cares it would need, to online every cycle and thank Primus for the blessings bestowed upon him in his bondmate and their child.

"Jazz," Prowl murmured, holding his mate tighter.

"Yer right," Jazz cut him off softly, his rich and melodious voice colored with disappointment, pain and uncertainty. "I hadn't thought 'bout that, an' I have no idea what t'do anymore."

"We'll wait, Jazz," the chevroned mech whispered, sending all his love and comfort through their bond, an apology for what he had just done, and a promise they would try for a sparkling when they were both certain and ready.

"Yeah." Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl tightly, accepting the comfort, basking on it, accepting the apology, knowing his love only wanted him to be happy even if he had to hurt him first; holding onto that promise.

--------------------------

Depression, Prowl thought, was a horrible thing, a monster that wrapped its cold, merciless claws around one's spark sinking it into a void of despair and dragging along loved ones. Depression was most definitely something he had never wished to see befall Jazz, yet there was no other possible explanation for the state his beloved had been in for deca-cycles now.

He still smiled, he would sing and hum for him, they'd still make energon goodies together, getting all messy, washing each other and making love to one another as if it was the first time. But somewhere there was something missing, something in Jazz that curbed that bright, lovely glow of his visor and the optics hidden behind. Something in his spark that echoed in Prowl's, something that saddened and depressed him. Something that made the moment they'd step out of their living unit for work an effort Jazz had to struggle with.

Jazz was not happy about something in his life, and Prowl originally pegged the feeling to Jazz's disappointment over not having the sparkling he desired. However, he found out that was not it, Jazz was actually coping well with that, after all they never said they wouldn't ever have one, just postpone it for a while.

The chevroned mech tried to dissect all the feelings and emotions of his mate in relation with his cycle to cycle routine, searching for something that could clue him to what was making Jazz unhappy. He found it unexpectedly when Jazz took to come to his office more often, working on his own reports and helping Prowl with his own. Jazz was happy when he was with him in the office, the longer he could spend there, the better he felt. His patrols seemingly becoming now a chore rather than the part he loved the most about his job.

He wondered if it was a subconscious reaction Jazz was having to that part of his life obstructing his desire to form a family, or if Jazz was trying to find out if he could actually give up that part of his career in order to have a sparkling.

Prowl decided to wait out a little before acting to confront Jazz about the situation, wanting to see if this was just something Jazz was doing to rush the conception of a sparkling or if he really was becoming that unhappy with his job.

In the end, Jazz himself came to him, unsure of how he was feeling anymore. He claimed he didn't hate his job or was disenchanted with it, but he admitted he didn't feel the same satisfaction from it anymore, and he, too, feared it was because of the sparkling he still wanted.

They talked about it for joors, the pros, the cons, what this would mean for them both, drawing the conclusion Jazz was really ready for something else in his life. He had a successful career and fulfilled his dream, had found a mech he loved with everything he had and bonded to him, he was ready to become a creator and face the challenges of being one.

They agreed then that they would try to create a sparkling together. Prowl still did not want Jazz to give up his dreams, and insisted he wanted to be the carrier so Jazz could return to the field after the sparkling was placed into its protoform. Jazz asked his mate if he wanted the sparkling as well, as he didn't want to pressure him into doing it if he didn't want to or wasn't ready himself.

Prowl insisted he wanted the sparkling as much as Jazz, and his only concern was for his mate to be happy, and if Jazz was happy with the arrangement, they'd go through with it.

Prowl wrapped his arms around his mate from behind, watching over Jazz's shoulder the landscape of Iacon as they stood on their balcony. He had scheduled a visit to their medic to see about the conception and which one was better suited to become the carrier, what was the best way to go about it, and pretty much get a sparkling creation 101 course if they could get away with it.

Jazz smiled at his mate, pressing a loving kiss to Prowl's chin as he felt Prowl's excitement about the step they were about to take filtering through their bond, happy to feel his mate's excitement matched his own.

The chevroned mech hugged his mate a little tighter, kissing a sensory horn as he turned his gaze back to the skyline, his thoughts wandering back to that drawing of Jazz holding Steeljaw in his arms, looking forward to drawing his mate holding their own sparkling now.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (19/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Remember this was going to be a 3 chapters fic? Har har har... I can't believe it's almost 20 chapters and it hasn't taken me half a year to get to this point. XD Big bad warnings for fluffy 'fro attacks. Some ideas and concepts are snugsbunny's fault!

Jazz was almost sure Primus was smiling at them somewhere. Shortly after their first meeting with their medic they decided they would like to conceive their sparkling somewhere special, by mutual agreement their child would be conceived in Praxus, no matter how long they'd have to wait to be able to visit Prowl's home city.

Their medic maintained a very strict control over them, with constant check ups to make sure both would be in perfect condition to conceive, having confirmed both of them were suitable to become the carrier. Although the plan was for Prowl to carry, they were made aware the process didn't always go as planned and either of them could end up becoming the carrier, so Jazz, too, had to be under strict medical control.

After their decision was made, they continued their lives as usual, although Jazz had started the protocol to be placed in desk duty, accepting a position as instructor for their newest officers. Prowl himself was starting to re-organize his work schedule and although he wasn't keen about relaxing so much his work and his 'nagging' on other officers to keep the backlog at bay, he knew he had Jazz's support and help should he need help, plus Blaster was doing his best to help as well.

Everything was going very well, and in an unexpected but very welcome turn of events, they both were required to travel to Praxus for a conference of sorts where new expansion programs for their respective academies and training programs would be discussed. It was a work trip of course, but it would leave them quite some time to attempt to conceive their sparkling.

Jazz could feel his own thoughts were shared by Prowl, that playful side of his mate he shared just with him kept nudging his consciousness, sharing his excitement, and that passion that burned deeply within his mate's strict and stoic exterior.

They hopped off the transport, although it was already late they couldn't help but want to look around again, embed the image of the city Jazz had come to love as if it was his own home city, loving that his mate was created here and that, if Primus continued to smile at them, their child would be conceived here as well.

They were given instructions and codes for their temporary quarters, which would be in one of the high ranking officers complexes around the academy where Prowl studied to become an Enforcer vorns ago. Barely able to contain their excitement, like a newly bonded couple that visited Praxus for the first time in their lives, they looked around, visited places they were familiar with now, but that felt as if this was the first time they ever saw them.

Everything felt so novel, so exciting. Their sparks pounded against their casings, drowning in that exhilarating feeling. They felt as if they had just fell in love anew, as if they had bonded their sparks again just now. The rush flowing through them was intoxicating, everything passed by in a blur. Nothing mattered but each other, the love they felt for each other growing stronger and stronger, and the life they hoped to create as their wandering led them back to their temporary quarters, miraculously finding their way to their berth amidst hungry, fervent kisses and wandering hands, light and shadows mingling together as sparks were bared and their selves became one once again, their love converging into that glowing orb, and the flickering light of a new life that had been created.

------------------------

Fidgety was probably too mild a word to describe the pair, although Prowl hid it better. Enduring the long joors of that first cycle at the conference had been an effort. All Jazz wanted was to bolt from there, head back to Iacon and have their medic confirm what they knew in their sparks already. They didn't know who was carrying their sparkling, both feeling an echo of its presence but no certainty of which spark was protecting the newly created Cybertronian, and neither dared to open their spark chambers to confirm, fearing such action could endanger their little one.

Prowl's processors were currently divided between paying attention to the exposition describing the changes to be implemented in the programs along with the construction of additional facilities, and beginning to plan out what things they would require for their sparkling. Thinking about the room they would give to their child, acquiring a recharging tank suitable for the sparkling, toys, specially graded energon, even thoughts about what to name it.

Jazz smiled, fighting back the urge to laugh at the path of his mate's thoughts, ever the planner his thoughts were projected unconsciously to his mate. Jazz nudged Prowl through their bond, sharing his own excitement and beginning to conference between themselves, thinking and plotting the arrangements that would be required for the sparkling's arrival.

While they were in Praxus they decided to look through the marketplace, collecting a few nick knacks for their sparkling, even those it wouldn't be able to use or enjoy until it was older. They stopped by a shop dedicated entirely to musical instruments and technology, and Jazz was immediately drawn to it.

"Want to take a look?" Prowl suggested as he watched his mate stop for a moment to look at the goods in the displays.

Jazz smiled. "Sure."

The shop's outer look was deceiving, for the inside was incredibly big, filled with all kinds of instruments and technology specific for music creation. Jazz's other love (after Prowl and now their sparkling) was music, he was quite talented, and more often than not, Prowl had tried to encourage him to pick on it a little more seriously. His optics were drawn to a particular piece of equipment, the kind that could play different kind of sounds and become pretty much a one mech orchestra.

"Do you want it?" Prowl asked, smiling a little at his mate.

"Think I should?" Jazz turned to look at his mate then back at the instrument. Prowl nodded and wrapped his arm around his mate's waist in encouragement. Deciding he could very well compose some music for their sparkling, the visored mech agreed to acquire the piece of equipment which would be delivered at their home in Iacon by the time they returned.

With their purchase secured, the black and white pair continued their window shopping, pointing at things they would like to get for their sparkling but would wait until they knew it was old enough to actually decide if it liked the trinkets or not.

They talked about things they wanted in the sparkling's room, with Jazz insisting Prowl should paint a mural on the walls, offering to help as much as possible. They selected the room they wanted to use, thinking about the placement of things, even about the kind of little sparkling berth they would get for their child although there was still a long way for their sparkling to be placed in its protoform, let alone be able to recharge on a berth.

----------------------

The return to Iacon had been very anticipated, no sooner had they set foot inside their living unit they rushed to arrange a visit to their medic to confirm the sparkling's creation and see who had become the carrier. They spent several joors in the room they had picked for their sparkling, going over and over through the things they wanted to do in it before they finally forced themselves to retire for some energon and recharge.

The next cycle had them both up early, heading for the headquarters to do as much work as they could before their scheduled visit with the medic. Surprisingly for both, they were actually able to concentrate in their work just as usual, both half expecting to be unable to focus. The time came for their check up and the bonded pair walked hand in hand towards the medic's office.

Both were laid on medical berths next to each other, hands still linked and fingers intertwined as they parted their chest plating and opened their chambers for the medic at unison. The medic scanned both sparks, knowing that at the earliest stage a new spark could be easily hidden from view by the glow of its genitor spark.

The medic moved from Prowl to Jazz, then back to Prowl and back to Jazz once more. He ordered them to close their chambers and chest plating.

"Well?" Jazz pressed as he sat up, looking at the medic with excitement and nervousness.

"I believe congratulations are in order. I have a very good reading of a very strong and healthy spark."

"Who is carrying?" Prowl asked as he and Jazz took a seat across from their medic, excitement rushing through their bond as they confirmed the successful creation of their offspring.

"Jazz is, although for you'll both feel the echo of its spark energy for a while," The medic replied with a small smile, pulling out a data pad and began to write down something. "You will require check ups every four Deca-cycles. The spark is diminutive right now but in about twentyDeca-cycles or so we should be able to see it clearly nestled against your spark. I'll prescribe some special energon you'll have to take once a deca-cycle, preferably before recharge. Prowl you should take some as well but I'll prescribe a smaller dose for you, just as precaution."

Both parents smiled to each other, neither really caring who was the carrier, only happy to know their sparkling was a strong one according to their medic. Their routine did not change much after that, Jazz took everything lightly and in stride, allowing Prowl to spoil him rotten.

As they worked on their sparkling's room, Prowl helped Jazz to make a small studio in one of the spare rooms where he could enjoy devoting time to his love for music. More often than not, Jazz would sit down and play or mess around with his new toy while Prowl sat in a nearby couch, watching him and drawing.

The mural Prowl was painting on the sparkling's room had three landscapes merging together. One way became Polyhex merging slowly into the next wall depicting Iacon and slowly merging into Praxus on the next wall. The remaining wall was painted as a semi empty space with small buildings of random cities peppering the landscape.

The Deca-cycles kept passing, and their sparkling grew stronger, both feeling cautiously optimistic about the health of their little one. The twentieth Deca-cycle finally came, Prowl and Jazz were excited as this would be the first time they'd see the baby spark with their own optics. They washed and consumed their energon as they chatted, Jazz suggesting to have Blaster, Tracks and Steeljaw over soon.

Prowl smiled and watched his mate, mostly allowing Jazz to chit chat while he listened to all his mate had to say, but something in the back of his processors nagged at him, somehow he felt this visit to their medic would bring about a new development, he wasn't sure whether it would be a good or a bad thing but he tried to push aside any worries, the sparkling had been pretty healthy and strong, there was no reason to fear anything wrong. Yet, that feeling something was about to change lingered in the back of his CPU. All he could do now was hope nothing wrong would befall his mate or sparkling.

Chapter Text

Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Angstage. Fluffiness. Implied Character Death.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: All right, there was a reason why Jazz is the one who ended carrying and you find that out here. The Polymer bodies for a sparkling was used with snugsbunny's permission.

Also, I made a small fan mix (gonna have to excuse me, I suck at this) thing for this fic as a gift for snugsbunny, if you'd like to get a look it's available HERE. Please be warned the tracklist containts spoilers for this chapter so you may wanna wait until after reading it to head there. The tracklist contains the original names of the songs and other credits.

At one point in his life, Prowl did not believe in luck, but ever since Jazz came into his life he could do nothing but think about how lucky he was to have the other mech's love. Luck, thus became something he was willing to believe in as long as his beloved was concerned.

Now, though, he truly hoped for good luck to be with them, for Primus to continue to bestow his blessings upon them. That feeling of dread kept growing and growing as the time for their scheduled visit with their medic approached. Something was going to happen, he knew it, and he couldn't fight back the feeling that something wasn't going to be good in one way or another.

They sat outside the medic's office, awaiting to be admitted. Jazz was understandably excited, fidgeting a little and squeezing Prowl's hand as he hummed softly to himself, awaiting anxiously to see their sparkling. Prowl tried to share his excitement as much as possible, trying to think of that first time he'd lay optics on the child he and his mate conceived and represented how far they had come. How far he had come from that lonely life as a youngling who lost it all when his sire perished.

His remembrance was cut off by the voice of the medic, prompting them to come into the office. The medic wasted little time in pleasantries, instructing Jazz to lay down on the berth and open his chest plates and casing. Prowl was by his mate's side, feeling his spark beating anxiously, hoping that everything will be all right with his bonded and their child.

"Ah, there we have it. Everything seems well so far. I'll make some quick scans to make sure and I'll connect the camera so you both can see it. The spark seems pretty healthy."

Jazz turned to his mate, smiling brightly and excitedly, barely able to wait to be able to see the baby spark nestled next to his. Prowl smiled, feeling relieved that everything seemed to be all right, and yet he still felt something was bound to change very, very soon.

"What is this?"

The medic's voice caught their attention, Prowl's hand's that were holding one of Jazz's tightened their grip, his spark skipping a beat. "Is there something wrong?" He couldn't help but ask.

"I... wouldn't call it something wrong, but I certainly wasn't expecting this." The medic turned to the parents, quirking an optic ridge. "Any of you has a twin or had twins among their line?"

This time it was Jazz's grip on Prowl's hands which tightened almost painfully. Prowl shook his head. "Why?"

"It seems the spark split recently," The medic replied absently and turned on a monitor, aiming the camera carefully to show the baby spark and a slightly smaller one nestle against it, almost as if cuddling. "It appears you're now the proud progenitors or a pair of split sparked twins."

Prowl could feel his spark beating in excitement, his lip components curving into a smile. Twins. They had sired split spark twins, one of the rarest occurrences in Cybertron. The now actually painful grip of Jazz's hand around his forced him to tear his gaze away from his children, his smile all but dissolving into a frown, as his mate's expression was not one of happiness but one of utter dread, even terror.

"Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, using the hand that was not being painfully gripped to stroke the back of Jazz's hand, trying to ease his bondmate.

"Oh Primus, no..." Jazz murmured more to himself than in response to Prowl's inquiry, optics locked into the two little sparks that snuggled against his own, dread, fear, terror, guilt, a myriad of emotions going through him, panic rising quickly through his systems.

"Jazz, what's wrong?" Prowl called his mate, his own voice raised in concern. Why was his mate reacting like this? They had conceived twins, and his bonded was acting like they had conceived the unmaker itself.

"Jazz, you must calm down, your systems are agitating and that'll affect the sparklings!" The medic cried sternly, managing to bring Jazz out of his panicked state if only a little.

"S-Sorry, I... are they-- Are they all right?" Jazz's frame was trembling, becoming suddenly aware once more of Prowl's hands holding his own, turning a little to look at his bondmate and turning to look away quickly, unable to meet his beloved's optics at the moment. What was he going to say to Prowl now?

"The sparks are both pretty healthy according to my scans. The split was pretty recent, and they seem to be adjusting fine." The medic moved the camera a little, allowing the parents to look at their sparklings. "They seem to be pretty strong, but obviously this is going to change things. I want you back for check ups every Deca-cycle, Jazz. I need to keep a very strict control of you and the twins. Likewise I'll up your dose of special energon, you must have plenty of rest as well. And Prowl, I'm upping your prescription as well, I want you to monitor Jazz's condition closely."

"Yes, of course." Prowl's voice was a little strained, a little cold. He could feel Jazz's fear through their bond, and although he was trying to send as much comfort as he could, he was becoming aware Jazz was trying to block him, growing more and more fearful.

--------------------

The trip back home had been tense, Jazz did not speak and more than once Prowl had to hold back his mate when Jazz was about to cross a street while vehicles were also crossing. Prowl wasn't sure what bothered Jazz but he was determined to find out once they were back into their living unit.

Jazz dreaded the moment they'd arrive to their home, knowing his mate would most definitely inquire about his unusual behavior. He was afraid of Prowl's reaction, not only because of the secret he would be forced to reveal but because in keeping that secret he could have placed their sparklings in danger.

There was no turning back, however, the spark had split and the sole sparkling they originally hoped for became twins. He sensed Prowl's original outburst of joy, happy that they were sires to a pair of twins. He was afraid in keeping his secret he could crumble his mate's hopes, leaving them both in anguish and hurt if his case repeated with their children.

"Jazz," Prowl called softly as they entered their home, taking his mate's hand to lead him gently towards the couch. "Jazz, please tell me what's wrong." His voice wasn't cold and stern anymore, instead there was a deep concern for his mate coloring the tone.

"I'm scared," Jazz admitted softly, looking up at his mate as he retracted his visor to allow Prowl to see the spark shattering terror.

"About what?" the chevroned mech sat next to his mate, wrapping his arms around Jazz, trying to offer as much comfort and reassurance as he could.

"I'm afraid ta lose our sparklin's, Prowl."

"But why?"

"I..." Jazz looked away for a moment, knowing his mate needed to know this, he couldn't hide it any longer. "I had a twin. We were spark split like them." Jazz brought a hand to his chest.

Prowl's optics widened, realizing immediately the spark splitting was probably a consequence of Jazz being a spark split twin himself. "You said you had a twin," Prowl paused, almost afraid to ask. "Did the other..."

Jazz nodded, clutching his chest a little tighter. "He didn't make it past a joor after we were placed into our polymer forms." The smaller black and white looked up at his mate. "I'm afraid by not tellin' ya this I might have put our sparklings in danger."

Prowl held his bondmate tight against him, sending as much love and comfort as he could through their bond. "Was there any reason why he didn't make it?"

"Weak spark or somethin' like that. Our creators refused ta tell me, they never wanted t'talk about that. It hit them so hard to lose one of us... Sometimes I feel they would have been better if I had deactivated, too." Jazz curled against Prowl, all but latching onto the love and comfort, thankful his mate was not upset with him for the secret he kept from him and pretty much everyone.

"Well, I'm glad you made it, or I'd be living a very lonely life without you," Prowl murmured and kissed a sensory horn tenderly. "We'll do everything in our power to keep our children alive. I promise you that."

Jazz nodded, feeling a small burst of love in his spark, one that did not come from Prowl. The two black and whites stared at each other before their gazes fell to Jazz's chest, recognizing their sparklings were projecting affection towards their carrier, echoing in their sire's spark. They had previously felt small bursts of emotion from the lone spark, but it was nothing as easily discernable as this. They couldn't tell before what was their sparkling was feeling or what emotions was projecting, now, however, it was easy to understand the emotion, the pure affection the twin sparks projected, as if they were trying to reassure their parents they were there and had no intention to go anywhere. The burst faded as quickly as it came.

"It would appear they're letting us know we better not give into fear." Prowl smiled at his mate, stroking a hand over Jazz's chest plate, right over his spark chamber currently housing his bonded's spark and their twins' little sparks. Jazz nodded, feeling a little relieved but still worried. He knew his fears would not go away completely until their sparklings were placed into their Protoforms and declared healthy and strong enough to survive.

"What was his name?"

Jazz turned to look up at his beloved, "Huh? What?"

"Your twin's name, did he receive one?" Prowl asked, stroking a sensory horn gently to ease his mate.

"Ricochet," Jazz replied absently, thinking about the only picture he had ever seen of his twin. His plates were black where Jazz's where white, almost like Prowl was to him. There were a few rare times when he wondered if Ricochet perhaps was looking after him, sending Prowl to him, as his creators would often claim Ricochet gave up his spark and life for him, preferring to save his twin than allow both to perish, though, Jazz often dismissed the thought.

"Did you lose your sires young?" Prowl could feel his mate's mind was wandering, possibly back into that past he had kept hidden for reasons Prowl never tried to find out, respecting his mate's wishes and waiting until Jazz would feel comfortable sharing those memories with him. Now, however, he couldn't help but ask.

Jazz shook his head, deciding he might as well spill everything. "No, they are still alive an' functionin', that much I know." the smaller black and white mech let out a long sigh, cuddling closer to Prowl. "I left my home because they didn't want me ta become an Enforcer, but that was what I wanted ta do an' wouldn't give it up, so we parted in bad terms."

Prowl nodded and held his bonded a little tighter, choosing not to press the issue further. "Come on, you need to rest, there's much we have to do later about this development. We'll have to request your medical leave a little sooner than we expected."

Jazz nodded and smiled a little, allowing Prowl to lead him to their room, feeling a new determination to do everything he could to make sure their sparklings would be healthy and come to full term. "We gotta start thinkin' about names again, gotta pick names for two sparklets now."

Prowl laughed a little and nodded, helping Jazz to the berth and excusing himself for a moment to get some energon for himself and his bondmate. They talked about things that had to be changed, acquiring a second recharging tank for the other sparkling, some extra supplies of special energon for their infants, pondering what to do about toys and trinkets, possible names and so on.

Not long after that, and after taking his prescribed energon, Jazz was out like a light, thoroughly worn out from emotional and physical exhaustation. Prowl though, was the epitome of restless, unable to settle down for recharge and constantly turning to check on his bonded. Unable to rest, the chevroned mech produced his sketch pad and stylus from subspace and sketched a series of shapes, a pair of faceless, almost featureless mechs holding a pair of sparklings, one was clearly Jazz, the other meant to represent his twin but without defined features.

Prowl set his pad down, rising carefully from the berth he shared with Jazz and headed to their balcony. He murmured a soft thank you to Primus and the deceased sparkling Ricochet, pleading softly for the well being of their sparklings. He sighed softly, feeling suddenly at peace as he turned back to the berth, easing himself onto the surface, wrapping his arms around his mate and pressing his chest plates gently against Jazz's, feeling the steady pulse of three sparks protected underneath the plating. Prowl smiled a little to himself as he powered down his optics, initiating finally his recharging cycle.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (21/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: I am not too happy with this chapter, but I had to introduce a couple of aspects and this was the best chapter to add them in. Hope you like, snugsbunny

Jazz wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused at the state his class had devolved to. As soon as he announced he would be taking his leave earlier than anticipated due to his carrying of twins, most of his trainees started showing more interest in asking questions about the sparklings and himself than about what he was supposed to train them about.

He couldn't blame them too much, after all twins were a rarity in Cybertron but spark split twins were even rarer, so everyone wanted to know about them. In some aspects Jazz felt his sparklings were going to be looked upon as a some sort of attraction or rarity only by the fact they were spark split twins. He didn't want his children to be defined by their particular origins, the reason why he intended to discuss the upbringing of their children with Prowl and how the sparklings should be treated as individuals first and twins later.

He was feeling rather overprotective of their sparklings, in a way wanting to shield them away from what he perceived was a superficial look at their sparklings because of their unusual origins. He couldn't help it, he felt people were treating them like curiosities, attractions that earned interest because they were unusual in the first place. He would be slagged if he allowed anyone to treat their sparklings like that. "All right, that's enough chit chat fer now, you two, ta the mat, we'll start from the beginnin' again."

--------------------

Prowl sighed softly, watching his mate curl up against him on their couch, exhausted after a long day of work, both at their workplace and around their home, arranging the two cribs they acquired for their sparklings and going through a list of things to do. Jazz had approached him with the idea of an early retirement from the force, knowing with two sparklings they'd have their hands full.

Prowl wasn't sure what to think about Jazz's idea. He had been vehemently against it when Jazz first mentioned it, insisting Jazz was already sacrificing so much, feeling that things were not equal among themselves. He tried to think of ways to change his mate's mind, try to even the load between them both, but Jazz insisted that while there were other officers who could do his work, there were few that could take on Prowl's load.

They had had a small argument over the issue, but Jazz insisted he wanted this, that he was more than ready to end that chapter of his life and open a new one. The excitement he could see in his mate's optics as he talked about caring for their children and devoting time to his other passion were all it took for Prowl to accept Jazz's decision, encouraged by his mate's claims that once their little ones were old enough, he might re-take his career as an Enforcer.

Still, Prowl was feeling he wasn't going to be doing enough in the upbringing and care of their sparklings, but agreed his work was important, and in the long run it was best if he continued with his duties. That didn't mean he wasn't going to change his habits and scheduling whenever his work required him to endure longer shifts. He refused to be just a provider and not be there for their sparklings, he wanted to be a father as much as possible, and Primus help whoever got in the way, Sentinel Prime included.

In the end, he had to accept the facts, and accepted to help Jazz deal up with his retirement process while keeping a watchful optic on his mate and the evolution of their sparklings. Something, though, had been in the back of his processors for a while now. For some reason he kept thinking about Jazz's creators and his mate's estrangement from his family. He knew Jazz was happy with his life, was happy with his mate and the family he was forming himself, yet Prowl wondered if Jazz didn't miss his sires.

Perhaps because he had become an orphan at a young age, and how much that loss influenced his life, Prowl couldn't help but think the separation hurt Jazz. After all, it was not the same to lose a sire, than to having both creators alive and uncaring to the events in his life because of a disagreement. It was something that had to affect Jazz in one way or another, or else he would have never been so tight lipped about that part of his past. The chevroned mech wondered if perhaps there was a chance to bridge the chasm among them, to bring them back together. He had loved his progenitor, and now as a sire himself, he loved his sparklings as much as he loved his mate. He couldn't think of a time when he wouldn't love them, and it hurt to think his sparklings could ever stop loving him and his bonded.

At the same time, he wasn't sure how much he should involve himself in his mate's family matters. How would Jazz react to him meddling with affairs that were not his own? Still, he could at least suggest to Jazz to try to contact his creators and perhaps make amends, their sparklings deserved to at least be able to meet one of their creators' parents.

----------------------------

Jazz smiled nervously at his bondmate as he lay on the medical berth, allowing their medic to run all the appropriate scans and check ups on their sparklings.

"They're developing wonderfully," The medic spoke as he turned on the monitor to show the parents the growing sparks. They had almost doubled their size since the first time the twin sparks had been discovered, both still snuggled against each other but both bright and strong, speaking of very healthy sparklings. "They are going to start projecting through your bond often now, they're becoming active. You're going to need plenty of rest from now on."

Prowl and Jazz nodded at unison, looking back at each other with bright smiles adorning their facial plating. "How much longer do you it will take before they detach?" Prowl asked and smiled at the image on the monitor, watching the sparks pulsing steadily, unconsciously sending a wave of love through the bond he shared with Jazz, gasping softly when the baby sparks reacted, the slightly bigger one pulsing a little faster for a moment, the smaller twitched up and down, almost as if it was bouncing.

"Well, continue to get them all excited like that and it could be sooner than we expect." The medic joked but smirked at the good condition of the bond between both parents and the sparklings. "Being serious, though, it's good that you two try to devote at least some time to project feelings towards the sparklings, it'll make it easier for them to recognize your spark signature when they are placed into their polymer bodies, it'll reduce the stress of the separation. In any case, I'd say there's still a good ten Deca-cycles to go before we meet these two in their bodies."

After being released and given their new doses of special energon, the bonded pair strolled around the streets at a leisure pace, happily chatting amongst themselves about the events transpired at the medic's office. Jazz mentioned the sparkling still needed names, and Prowl insisted they needed to know if their sparklings were little mechs or femmes or if they had one of each.

By the time they were back at their home, Jazz was promptly ushered to the room he shared with his bonded and eased onto their comfortable berth. Prowl busied himself on their kitchen, preparing some goodies for his mate and some warm energon bringing a tray to their room so Jazz could refuel. Jazz thanked his mate and reached for one of his favorite goodies, loving when Prowl spoiled him like this, something he'd do even before they created their children. As he was about to bite down on one of the treats he felt a surge of dull pain on his chest, clasping a hand to his chest plates, feeling panic rising.

"Jazz?" Prowl asked and gasped softly, feeling an echo of the pain Jazz was feeling through their bond. The pain subsided almost as quickly as it came, and Prowl was at Jazz's side in a moment, calling their medic.

Jazz was trying hard to keep his fears at bay, shakily projecting a burst of love and concern for their sparklings, feeling oddly relieved when both of them responded with their own surge of affection.

"Yes, it was a dull pain, it lasted a few clicks at best." Prowl was speaking with their medic through com-link, stroking his hand along Jazz's chest plates in a soothing manner. He frowned at the medic's response, his feelings of mild annoyance had Jazz looking up at him with a puzzled expression. "Yes, I understand. All right, we'll keep you informed." Prowl cut the communication and looked back at his mate, irritation clear on his face. "He said, and I quote: 'Welcome to the last stage, Jazz is going to be feeling aches every time the sparklets get too active, oh, and Jazz will be rather sore and moody for a while'."

Jazz looked up at Prowl's face, unsure whether to be annoyed at the medic's reply or burst out laughing at his bonded's expression, finally opting to go with the latter.

"What is so funny?" The chevroned mech quirked an optic ridge in annoyance as he watched his mate shake as he tried to muffle his laughter with his hands. "Yer face!" Jazz couldn't hold it in anymore and began to laugh loud and clear. "Oh, love, ya look like yer already the moody one!"

Prowl's face plates heated a little and he was about to respond to his mate's claims, but anything he could have said was cut by a little gasp from Jazz, who brought a hand to his chest plates again, feeling the vibration of one of the sparks energetically sharing his mirth. "This is gonna get some time ta get used to." He smiled sheepishly to his mate.

Prowl laughed softly and nodded, feeling the sparklings glee echoing in his spark along with the little ache Jazz had felt. "I suppose that means we're going to have to spoil your daddy even more now, little ones," He murmured as he pressed his head to Jazz's chest, talking to their sparklings as he stroked the warm plates with a hand.

"A nice and warm bath would be much appreciated." Jazz grinned at his bonded, stroking Prowl's helm lovingly, idly stroking Prowl's bright red chevron.

"Mmm, yes, I suppose I can do that."

Jazz's grin morphed into a leer. "Ya know, it's been a while since we last used our pool."

Prowl quirked an optic ridge but smiled mischievously to his mate, lifting his head to plant a sweet kiss on Jazz's chin. "Well yes, I don't think we should be doing what I am certain you have in mind while our sparklings are still in your spark chamber."

Jazz groaned in disappointment but still stole a kiss from the chevroned mech. "Ya know, once our sparklets are in their own bodies an' tucked in their cribs I ain't lettin' ya out of this berth for a couple o' cycles."

Prowl laughed and kissed Jazz back before he pried himself away from his beloved's embrace. "We'll see about that once our sparklings are brought home, for now you better refuel while I prepare your bath."

"Aye!" Jazz saluted and picked another energon goody, gingerly nibbling on it as he watched Prowl exit the room. He stroked his chest absently, feeling very relaxed after that initial scare. He looked around their room, casually finding Prowl's sketch pad laying around the nearby table, the visored mech reached to pick it and smiling fondly at the incomplete sketch of two recharging tanks pressed together and two featureless sparklings curled within, each one holding some soft toys shaped like Prowl and Jazz. Jazz could barely wait for the moment when Prowl would be able to draw their sparklings and actually give them proper features.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (22/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness. Implied Character Death.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Tracks, Steeljaw. Mention of Blaster.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: People wanted moar Steeljaw fluff so here's more. The Polymer bodies for a sparkling was used with snugsbunny's permission. Hope you like, bun bun!

Prowl would have argued moody was too mild a word to describe Jazz lately. He took it in stride as best as he could, but even his patience was put to the test when Jazz was feeling particularly sore after a big burst of activity from their sparklings.

Most of the time, the chevroned mech would carry Jazz to their wash rack and deposit his mate in their pool with all the care worthy of handling a crystal doll, giving long and relaxing back rubs and massaging the joints of his shoulders and arms. Most of the time that earned him a mumbled thank you at best, a grumpy and exhausted and very much ready for recharge Jazz at worst.

Still, Prowl didn't hold it against his bonded, he knew the not so glamorous part about being a carrier was hitting his mate hard, especially with two sparklings intensifying the aches and three different moods wrecking chaos in his beloved's attitude. He did all he could to avoid rubbing his mate the wrong way, knowing even a simple word said at the wrong time could trigger extreme reactions from his bonded.

It couldn't always be helped, and Prowl had experienced some really hard times whenever a careless comment could bring forth a bad reaction from Jazz. He had been more verbally abused and had more data pads thrown at his head than he wanted to count. Only to have Jazz come to his senses and his remorse would hit him so hard that Prowl was then by his side soothing him and comforting him and swearing he wasn't upset. How the mech managed to never once raise his voice at the carrying mech it was anyone's guess. The few times Blaster and Tracks had dropped by to watch over Jazz while Prowl was at work had been very unpleasant, and the chevroned mech himself had to offer small presents to Tracks in apology for Jazz's behavior in a few occasions.

The only one ever spared Jazz's verbal lashings was Steeljaw, and Prowl suspected it was partly because he was a sparkling and because Jazz seemed unable to ever raise his voice at the symbiote. Blaster took to bringing Steeljaw around often, persuading his sparkling to lay with Jazz on the berth and make a rather adorable purring sound as he pawed on Jazz's chest, seemingly calming the active sparklings with the vibration of his purring.

All in all things could always be worse, and Prowl much preferred to suffer through the verbal abuse and ducking data pads if that meant their sparklings were developing well and were strong and healthy. Blaster claimed Prowl was becoming the very definition of 'patience', because even the cool, laid back communications officer could not hold back a few choice words to his friend when Jazz took out his aches and mood swings on him.

That fact wasn't lost to Jazz, in those moments when his sparklings and unstable emotions gave him a reprieve, he could tell how tired and worn out his mate was becoming and yet Prowl had never uttered a mean word back at him, apologizing instead if anything he said upset the visored mech. It was one of such reprieves that Jazz found himself awake late on the cycle and turned to look at the chevroned mech laying next to him on their berth. His optics hidden behind his visor softened as a smile crept into his lip components, watching Prowl rest peacefully yet Jazz could see Prowl was really worn out, tending to his demanding work, and putting up with him and making sure he and the sparklings were healthy.

He wasn't swimming in a pool of happiness himself, his emotions were intensified, raw and conflictive. He knew he was being an aft to everyone and he did not enjoy that in the least, but accepted it was part of the process, and was determined to make up to his friends and bondmate as soon as he could regain control of himself. He appreciated and enjoyed Prowl's cares, even though lately he was so achey he could barely enjoy the gentle baths and attentions Prowl was giving him.

Jazz pondered what he could to do compensate his bonded for all he was putting up with, knowing Prowl needed as much rest as he did. He considered convincing Prowl to stay on their berth longer than usual and let him take care of his own needs, prepare some goodies for his bonded and perhaps something else. With that thought Jazz cuddled against his bondmate and powered down his optics, sending a gentle surge of love to his beloved through their link, smiling a little when he felt the baby sparks in his spark chamber stir and project affection towards their sire as well in a manner Jazz would have considered sleepy.

-----------------------

Tracks wasn't sure what Jazz was up to, and wasn't too sure he wanted to find out. For once in the past couple of Deca-cycles Jazz seemed to be in a permanently good mood, quietly going about his business around his home unit, preparing goodies and chatting with him while spoiling Steeljaw with as much attention as he could give to the sparkling.

In a way Tracks was still a little wary of Jazz. He didn't hold it against the mech and he knew he probably would be as insufferable if he was in a similar condition, silently thanking Primus Blaster never acted like that, granted it only took a couple of Deca-cycles for Steeljaw to be given his own Protoform, while Jazz had been carrying for a while now.

"Hey Tracks, think ya could do me a favor?" Jazz's sudden question snapped him out of his mussing, nodding once as he looked at Steeljaw making himself comfortable on his lap, nibbling happily on a sweet treat. "Yes?"

"See, I want ta get somethin' for Prowl but I don't want ta go into th'marketplace all by myself."

Tracks understood the other mech's concerns. Although Prowl had insisted Jazz didn't have to hole himself up in their home, encouraging him to go out if he wisher, Prowl also asked Jazz to take one of his friends along if he wanted to go out, merely as a precaution, just in case anything happened there'd be someone who would know what to do and would contact Prowl and Jazz's medic if needed.

"Of course," Tracks reached into his subspace for an accessory he and Blaster had been forced to acquire for those times when they had to go out and their sparkling was feeling adventurous. Steeljaw looked up at the offending accessory, whinning already and covering his head with his paws to prevent Tracks from putting the collar around his neck, an action he knew already wouldn't deter the other mech but he wasn't going down without a fight.

Tracks sighed heavily, earning a soft laughter from the visored mech. "Poor 'Jaw, I don't think he appreciates the collar an' leash."

"Personally I'd rather not have him wear it, but he's proven he has to wear it if I'm to take him anywhere. Blaster almost had spark arrest the last time I lost Steeljaw in a crowd," Tracks muttered as he wrestled the golden sparkling in his lap to attach the collar and its very strong leash.

After a couple of attempts Tracks managed to secure the accessory around Steeljaw's neck and adjusted the other end of the leash around his wrist. Steeljaw whinned, turning to look at Jazz while giving him his best miserable expression, hoping the visored mech would intercede for him and save him from the evil leash.

"Sorry, 'Jaw, I can't do a thing 'bout that." Jazz smiled sheepishly at the sparkling, trying to cheer him up with another goodie. Steeljaw's hopes crushed he all but deflated and drooped on Tracks' lap, grumpily gnawing on the offered treat --If he could not get rid of the leash and collar at least he'd make Tracks carry him around then.

"All right, where are we going exactly?" Tracks asked as he picked Steeljaw, used by now to the sparkling's tantrums.

"The music district there's something I wanna get fer Prowl. An' perhaps ya can take me ta that place you get those scented powders from, I can't find Prowl's favorite scent anywhere!"

"Very well, I'll share my secrets but only because I like you both."

Jazz smirked. "Lead the way."

-----------------------

Prowl wasn't sure what to think when Jazz all but ordered him to stay in the berth while the visored mech merrily strolled his way to their kitchen to get refueled. Not that he minded much, he did admit to needing some rest, his cycles were becoming longer and more difficult the closer they became to their sparklings being ready to detach from Jazz's spark. With a soft sight he decided to indulge himself this once, powering down to sneak in some extra recharge while Jazz was in such complacent mood.

What Prowl did not expect was for Jazz to spoil him bringing his energon and some goodies to their berth, snuggling with him for a while and then ushering him into their wash racks where he was given a thorough and relaxing bath, all the while feeling the love his mate was pouring through their bond, smiling at the little outbursts of emotion and activity of their sparklings. He couldn't help but send gentle waves of love to their children, trying to convince their sparklings to be economic in their movements and outbursts to give their daddy some reprieve. Although the bouncy little sparks did stop bouncing so much the emotions they projected did not stop in the least, both seemingly excited to share the three way communication between their creators.

Jazz found it amusing how every time he used the bond to project thoughts of love and affection for Prowl the sparklings would mimic him and project affection towards Prowl, and when Prowl answered the twins projected affection towards Jazz.

After helping Prowl dry up, he guided his bonded to their living room, both sitting on their couch, chit chatting and discussing names for the sparklings, having finally narrowed down their options to three pairs of potential names. It was then when Jazz dug into his subspace and produced a box he offered to his mate. "I made this for ya, call it a little thank you fer bein' so patient these past few Deca-cycles."

"You know there's no need to thank me. I'm sure I'd be worse than you if I had been the one carrying." Prowl smiled and accepted the box, carefully opening the lid.

"No ya wouldn't. I don't think anyone could get as bad as me." the visored mech smiled and pressed a kiss to his bonded's chevron grinning as Prowl lifted the lid, discovering a couple of new pads and stylus designed especially to draw on along with some pigments and other tools. "Thought ya could use a few new ones, yer favorite pad is cryin' for a retirement of its own."

Prowl laughed softly and admired the new supplies his mate acquired for him, thanking the other black and white and stealing a peck from Jazz's lips, deciding he'd christen his new pad that cycle. His optics darted to a small graphic display in the corner of the box, picking it up he activated the device, being greeted by an holographic projection of large crystals suspended in methane, a sight common in the Crystal Gardens in Praxus, twinkling pleasantly as a soft melody played. When the music was over Prowl turned to look at Jazz who was giving him that grin that meant he was feeling proud of himself.

"Hope ya liked it, love."

"I did." Prowl nodded and turned the display off carefully, setting it down gently in the box and then setting the box in the nearby table. "Is this a composition of yours?" he asked as he wrapped his arms around Jazz in a tender hug.

Jazz nodded leaning against his bondmate and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Let's say it's your song, Prowl."

"I'm honored."

"Now, let's not--" Jazz's words were cut by a pained gasp as Jazz brought both hands to his chest.

"Jazz, what's wrong?" Prowl held his mate carefully, immediately pinging a comm-link with their medic.

"It hurts...!" the visored mech gripped his chest tighter, feeling his sparklings tugging and rattling against his spark, a mixture of conflictive emotions projected from the twins.

Prowl gasped in pain himself, feeling that their sparklings were indeed trashing within his mate's spark chamber. He called their medic, advising him they'd be there in a couple of breems.

Prowl wasn't sure how they managed to make it to the medical facilities, barely remembering the trip from their living unit to the medical wing. Their medic and a staff of nurses and assistants were waiting for them. Jazz was quickly laid on a medical berth with the nurses and assistants swarming him. The medic ran a few scans and called for the tanks containing the special polymer to be brought, announcing the sparklings were incoming.

Prowl worried immediately, feeling both Jazz's pain and panic in his spark. The sparklings weren't supposed to be detaching just yet, a fact that greatly concerned both parents. Jazz called for Prowl, and the medic barked orders for the nurses and assistants to give the chevroned mech room to come to his mate, his presence being fundamental to aid Jazz in the process.

Prowl was quickly at his mate's side, holding his hand and trying to calm his bonded as much as himself. As the tanks were brought over and Jazz was ordered to part his chest plates and open his spark chamber, Prowl was able to see his sparklings vibrating, trying to detach themselves from the bigger spark, tugging, shaking pushing against each other. Jazz cried in pain with each aggressive movement from the baby sparks that gave him no rest.

Prowl could do nothing but watch and try to ease his mate, shouldering some of the pain he felt through the bond, almost as if he wanted to absorb Jazz's pain. The agony increased every time the sparklings gained some ground, tearing apart the connection between them and their carrier.

The process was surprisingly fast and just as painful, but finally one of the sparklings detached, the baby spark captured in a small glass container by the medic, one of the nurses took the sparkling to one of the tanks, releasing the spark into the pool of polymer. Barely a few klicks after the first spark detached, Jazz screamed in pain, and Prowl muffled his own cry against Jazz's shoulder, holding his mate tightly as he watched the younger twin detach and be captured in the container, quickly moved to the other tank.

Prowl helped Jazz to sit up better as they turned to look at the contents of the tanks now pressed against Jazz's berth. The clear polymer swirled and morphed, and soon enough two little frames were curled tightly into small balls, whimpering and shivering with the remnants of the polymer clinging to their translucent bodies. The nurses hurried to clean the sparklings, finally handing two tiny, gray sparklings to the new progenitors.

Prowl kept Jazz propped upright, allowing his bondmate to lean against him while holding his oldest child to his chest while Jazz carried the younger twin. Both were identical, little gray bodies that they knew would gain distinctive colors through the joor.

The medic scanned both sparklings who began to whimper loudly, squirming in their parents' arms until the medic instructed Prowl to bring the older sparkling to his other arm so he could be close to the younger. The twins' whimpers quieted immediately once they were brought close enough.

"Well, aside from them being a little premature, they seem to be perfectly healthy. Although they'll probably be rather clingy to each other for a while." The medic smiled, noticing Prowl and Jazz weren't paying him much attention, their gazes fixed on their sparklings. "I'll have you both transferred to a room here for a couple of cycles so we can monitor you both and your twins."

Prowl nodded absently, stroking a finger along his sparklings' hands that were currently touching. "Thank you," he murmured to the medic before he finally teared his gaze away from his children to look at his mate, Jazz looked back at him, smiling happily. Prowl pressed a chaste kiss to his bonded's forehead. "I love you," he whispered and turned to look back at the sparklings. "And I love them."

"We love ya, too," Jazz returned the kiss, resting his head against Prowl's shoulder, feeling their twins little sparks filled with contentment and affection towards each other and their creators.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (23/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Little Angstiness. Fluffiness. Implied Character Death.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: With the sparklings born, be ready for a fluff attack. No, seriously, beware of the fluffy 'fro. These two are making it hard not to bump the rating of this fic sometimes. Polymer bodies are used with snugsbunny's permission, some concepts included in this are also her fault. Hope you enjoy bun bun!

Jazz smiled tiredly as he turned to lay on his side on the berth, his optics trained in the glass container currently functioning as a crib for his sparklings. They were incredibly small, a consequence of their premature detaching according to the medic, but he was told they were healthy and strong otherwise, and they would probably grow up as tall or even taller than their parents as time went by.

The twins were currently huddled against each other, deeply in recharge with not so much as a small beep or soft click from one of them, who Jazz considered was the sparkling taking after him because he seemed to be the most talkative of the two. Their gray bodies had finally gained color, surprising him with the unusual color mix considering their parentage.

The twins were identical, both sporting helms that were an interesting variation of Jazz's own, both with little stubby horns, although they did not seem to be nearly as sensitive as Jazz's. Prowl had joked their colors definitely took after two key elements of their parents, noting how the primarily red twin was the exact same shade of the Red stripe adorning Jazz's paint job while the other was golden like the crest decorating Prowl's helm. They both had little black afts like their creators and even sported a little arrow on the pelvic armor like Prowl.

Jazz smiled at the way their sparklings huddled against each other, they were going to be a heavy load, he knew that. The medic couldn't really explain why at the moment but the sparklings seemed to need to be physically close to each other to be at peace. He remembered those little sparks that beat with such strength as their clear spark chamber was formed and the baby sparks commanded the polymer to take form. A moment that had been both blissful and utterly terrifying for him.

He knew from what little his creators had shared with him, that his twin, Ricochet, had survived that part of the process, but some time after his polymer form gained colors, his brother began to fade. Jazz had watched closely the moment the gray bodies began to acquire color, not so much in anxious expectation to see their sparklings' colors, but with the fear that after gaining color one or both of the sparklings could have perished, like his twin.

Although he was relieved his children had survived past that stage and seemed healthy enough, Jazz knew it would be a very harsh first meta-cycle until the sparklings were ready for their Protoform, knowing anything could go wrong prior to that and even during the process to grant them their own definitive bodies. Jazz couldn't help but wonder, though, as he saw the sparklings, realizing the golden one had one little hand rested on his brother's arm as they slept, if he and Ricochet had been like his children, if they had needed that closeness and if so, how losing his twin could have affected him back then. He could only wonder, though, as he had no memories of that time in his life.

That lack of knowledge about his own twin's demise only managed to bring to the forefront the pang of guilt Jazz felt about keeping that part of his origin a secret from his mate. His creators never wanted to speak much about the cause for Ricochet's death, and sometimes Jazz wondered if even they knew exactly what had killed his brother. He feared at any time whatever took Ricochet could claim one or both of his children, and he knew he wouldn't ever forgive himself if such a thing happened.

His thoughts about the twins were interrupted when the door of the room slid open to admit Prowl into the room. Jazz smiled at his mate, watching the chevroned mech set down a few data pads on top of a set of cabinets, which he had no doubt his mate would tend to once they were done with one of the every cycle rituals that were incorporated into their lives with the arrival of their twins. Namely, the feeding of their little bundles of joy.

Something they had learned pretty soon about their children was they had a pretty clockwork system and always clamored for their nourishment at specific times during the cycle, always punctual an both at the same time. The first time he was faced with this, Jazz had been disconcerted, unsure of what twin to try to feed first. Luckily the distress he and the sparklings felt prompted Prowl's most welcomed apparition, and the crisis was averted when both parents were able to feed the sparklings together.

After the first two cycles, they realized their sparklings had a set schedule of when they wanted to be fed and Prowl took to drop by to tend to the feeding of his children. It was one of the benefits of being currently housed in the medical wing of the Force's headquarters, allowing Prowl to leave his post while still being around if he was needed.

"Hi," Prowl murmured once he arranged the pads he left on the cabinet, wrapping his mate in a hug and pressing a chaste kiss to a sensory horn.

"Hi, how's the workload?" Jazz snuggled against Prowl, enjoying the few breems he and his mate indulged in before their twins would wake and demand to be fed.

"As usual, Blaster's been on everyone's tail pipes these past few cycles, making sure they deliver their work as punctually as possible. Red Alert is impressed." the chevroned mech leaned against the headboard of the berth, taking one of Jazz's hands and gently rubbing his thumb along the back of the black hand, looking at the glass crib where the sparklings rested. "The medic said they'll probably be like this for at least six more Deca-cycles, then we can take them home."

Jazz nodded and looked up at his bonded, grinning at the look on Prowl's face, anyone could tell he adored the sparklings as much as Jazz, completely taken by the twins. "We gotta name 'em, the medic's been throwin' fits because their medical profiles don't have names yet. They're goin' by 'Red' an' 'Gold' in that thing."

"Yes, we have to give them names." Prowl replied absently, smiling when the red sparkling shifted, rolling his little body around so his back was no longer to his creators. The sparkling's optics lit up slowly, flickering a couple of times as he gained consciousness. Only a few kliks later the golden twin was also aware and staring at his parents from behind his brother.

"Hey there," Jazz greeted the sparklings, carefully freeing himself from his bonded's embrace as he reached into the crib, picking the golden sparkling. Before the younger twin could even begin to protest, Prowl reached carefully to pick him up, holding him against his chest and close to his brother. Jazz reached for the energon he had previously readied for the twins, offering one of the small cups designed for sparklings to his mate. Prowl took the offered cube, carefully bringing it to the red twin's mouth.

Feeding the twins was quite the experience in itself. During those precious breems when they were being fed the sparklings' optics focused in nothing but the creator currently feeding them. It was almost as if every time the little ones were studying them, and both parents soon discovered their children had a preference to be switched between creators often. They wouldn't allow the same parent to feed them twice in a row.

All through the feeding process both Prowl and Jazz could feel their children prodding tentatively the creator-creation bond they shared, testing what mood their creators were in, and drawing a sense of comfort and security from them. In return, the sparklings projected trust and affection towards them, something that humbled both parents beyond words.

After their meal was consumed, the sparklings would indulge their parents with some soft chirps and clicks before curling up to recharge again. Jazz was a little worried the sparklings recharged so much and barely made sounds, but the medic assured him it was a compensation for their premature detachment and they'd be perkier and awake more and more as time passed. Prowl and Jazz indulged themselves holding their children as they recharged, feeling at peace with their little ones sleeping soundly in their arms.

After setting the twins back in their crib, making sure they were in contact with each other, so they recharged well, Prowl coaxed Jazz into getting some rest himself, knowing all too well Jazz was still fretting over their little ones and needed some peace and calm of his own. Jazz lay on the berth, huddled against his bondmate as Prowl kept an arm around his mate, with a data pad on his other hand and a pile laying on his lap, sneaking in as much work as he could just to be able to have these moments with his family and not go back to his office to finish the pending work.

---------------------------

The return to their home had been yet another learning experience. Although the twins were no longer so clingy and did not need to be fed at the same time, each apparently taking a turn if only one parent was around, Jazz definitely missed Prowl's presence during the sparklings first meal.

Prowl solved that as much as he could by sending thoughts of love to his mate and children through their bond and calling his mate through comm-link to make up for not being physically there with them. Jazz projected images of the sparklings as he tended to them as much as he could, allowing Prowl to see these moments with the sparklings so he wouldn't entirely miss out on them.

All in all, though, they adapted, and Prowl preferred to be back at home a little earlier, even if it meant having to take work back home with him. Jazz did not mind in the least, finding joy in sitting down with his mate to help him work out through what workload remained so they could enjoy their twins together.

And enjoy them they did, when their twins were awake, the sparklings were curious about their new surroundings and each other. More often than not, Prowl and Jazz found the sparklings trying to sample everything that would come to their hands, including each other. Such was the case now, when the red twin was looking up at Jazz with a most innocent expression but with his twin's foot in his mouth.

"Now, Sideswipe. What have I told ya 'bout tryin' ta eat yer brother?" Jazz grinned as he managed to pry one of his sparkling's foot out of his brother's mouth. Sideswipe tilted his head curiously, chirping in confusion as he did not understand what his daddy was saying to him. "No eatin' Sunstreaker now." Jazz grinned and poked his child's white middle section, earning a wheezing chirp and giggles from his sparkling.

Sunstreaker huffed and grunted, shaking his foot now that it was away from Sideswipe's mouth. Prowl laughed and shook his head, taking a small cloth to clean away the remnants of energon Sideswipe left on his brother's foot. All clean now, the golden sparkling chirped and huddled on his side of the recharging crib, ready for some rest after exploring as much of their tank as they could considering they weren't even able to sit up yet. Although there were two recharging cribs available, the twins still refused to be laid to rest on separate tanks, and physical separation was still a touchy subject for them, unable to stand much time apart from each other for more than a few steps.

After Jazz cleaned Sideswipe's mouth, he arranged his sparkling so he was laying even with his twin, watching the red sparkling huddle closer to his twin and Sunstreaker, half way into recharge already, turn around so he was facing his brother, and soon enough both sparklings were deeply in recharge. "We're so lucky," Prowl murmured softly as he moved around the crib to take Jazz's hand, intertwining their fingers with each other. "Yes, we are." The two black and whites just stood there for a while, watching their sparklings sleeping soundly.

"I've been thinking," Prowl murmured, a soft hint of hesitation was discernable in his voice.

"About what?" Jazz looked up to his mate, frowning a little as he picked up on his bonded's hesitation.

"Don't you think maybe we..." Prowl paused, mentally preparing himself for the potential outcome of the words he was about to utter. "Maybe we should present them to your creators?"

As Prowl expected Jazz tensed visibly, his visor flashed bright once before the glow faded back to the almost normal shade of blue, a tad brighter, which Prowl knew meant Jazz was still tense and disturbed by his suggestion. "I don't think that's a good idea." Jazz answered flatly, not daring to look up at his bonded.

"Why not?" Prowl pressed, gauging Jazz's responses to see how much he should push for this. "Jazz, if my sire was alive he would have loved to see them."

"Yes, your sire would, and if he was alive I'd be the first ta suggest we hauled our afts to introduce him ta our sparkin's." Jazz turned around, his hand still interlinked with Prowl's. "I don't think we should discuss this here."

Prowl acquiesced and allowed Jazz to lead him out of their children's room, following him to their room. "Look, Prowl, I know ya mean well but I just don't think we should do what you suggest." Jazz released his mate and paced around the room, something Prowl knew meant Jazz was distressed.

"I understand this is not an easy situation for you, Jazz," Prowl spoke calmly. "But our sparklings deserve to know all their family."

"Deserve to and need to are different things. They might deserve it, but they don't really need to know." the visored mech countered. "Yer sire would have loved 'em, Prowl, but my progenitors... jus' no, Prowl. I don't want 'em to know a thing 'bout them."

Prowl's wings quivered and Jazz stopped his pacing, realizing a little too late he had managed to anger his mate, soon confirmed by the indignation that managed to filter through the bond despite Prowl restraining himself some.

"Were they really such bad creators to you that you cannot bring yourself to attempt to make amends with them for your children's sake?" Prowl asked in that detached tone Jazz disliked, the tone that meant Prowl was trying not to involve himself emotionally. The visored mech realized now his mate was hurt.

"S'not that." Jazz's voice softened and he reached behind his helm to retract his visor. "They were overbearin' with me, but they really cared fer me an' loved me... I don't hate 'em, Prowl, it's just I don't know if they do not hate me for my choices."

Jazz approached his bonded, wrapping his arms around Prowl in a comforting manner, understanding that Prowl, who had lost his only family so young, did not want Jazz and their twins to lose what other family they still had, to at least give a chance for their differences to be sorted.

"You'll never know if you don't approach them." Prowl wrapped his arms around Jazz, offering as much comfort as he could. He couldn't begin to understand what Jazz was going through, and he didn't pretend he knew what it was like, but he did know if at one point Jazz's parents had loved him, there was the hope things could be mended between them, bring them together and allow Jazz to recover what he thought lost.

"I'm scared." Jazz admitted, basking in the comfort his bondmate provided, relishing in the undying love he felt Prowl had for him, knowing that no matter what Prowl would be with him through thick and thin.

"I know, beloved," Prowl murmured, holding Jazz tight for a moment before bringing a hand up to Jazz's face, brushing white fingers along his bonded's cheeks before he pressed his lips against Jazz's in a tender kiss. "But know that I'll always be here for you, and our children. All I want is your happiness, Jazz."

"You an' our twins are my happiness, lover." Jazz smiled at his bonded, pressing soft kisses to his lips. "But I guess it's worth a try, ain't it?" Prowl nodded, returning the kisses, as they held each other, soon the sweet kisses turned playful, lingering, needy. Prowl mused Jazz was about to make good on his promise to not let him out of their berth once their children were settled, and never one to disappoint his bonded, Prowl obliged Jazz's and his own desires.

-----------------------

Jazz stretched lazily, making his way slowly and placidly to the twin's room, feeling in incredibly good spirits, his spark and body sated and filling him with a sense of calm and peace.

He was up only to check on their sparklings, intending to go back to the room he shared with Prowl to cuddle up against him once more. Jazz smiled down at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, both still deeply in recharge and still huddled together. The visored mech couldn't help but to keep looking, feeling such warmth in his spark at the beautiful sparklings he and Prowl had created.

Something within him flared to life, as a melody grew in his processors, like an old song heard a long time ago and then forgotten that was now resurfacing. Jazz stroked his twin's helms once before he left, heading for his studio. That was where Prowl found him a couple of joors later.

"Inspiration struck late?" Prowl asked as he watched Jazz save his composition, and begin to turn off his equipment. "Ya could say that, ya know what it's like when that happens."

"Oh yes, I know." Prowl smiled mischievously, leering really. "Right now, though, I am in need for a model for a risque piece I'd like to render."

Jazz had to cover his mouth to muffle his laughter, managing to compose a little before he left his seat, all but stalking with slow steps towards his bonded. "It's such a short notice, but I'll see what I can do."

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (24/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Angstiness. Fluffiness. Implied Character Death.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Long chapter is long. Tissue and fluffy afro asplosion warnings might be appropriate for this chapter. Polymer bodies are used with snugsbunny's permission and some concepts here are entirely her fault. Hope you enjoy bun bun!

Jazz watched intently the message displayed on his field of view, a comm-link request awaiting for his confirmation before the signal was transmitted. Finding the proper codes and frequency to establish a comm-link with his creators had been the easy part. To gather the nerve to actually submit the request was another story.

What could he say to his creators? Would they even accept his transmission? And if they did what should he say? He looked at his bonded, Prowl was currently setting Sideswipe down in the crib with his brother after feeding the younger twin, looking back at him with an encouraging glint in his optics.

Jazz decided it was now or never, and he confirmed the command, submitting his request for the comm-link to be established. For almost a breem nothing happened, no denial to the request but no acceptance either, and when Jazz was about to cancel his request, the message reporting the permission to establish the transmission had been granted appeared.

"May I help you?" A voice he hadn't heard in vorns spoke softly, wringing a shiver from Jazz, Prowl was quickly at his side, white hand taking hold of a black one, squeezing it gently. Jazz couldn't help the small sob that escaped his vocalizer. "Daddy?"

There was a moment of silence, and Jazz feared the transmission would be cut. "...Jazz?" The voice sounded different than he could remember, a little raspy, tired, he couldn't help but wonder if his carrier was ill.

"Yes, it's me." Jazz leaned against Prowl, feeling his spark pulse with anxiety.

"It's been a while," the voice spoke softly, and Jazz could tell his carrier was probably as shaken by the call as he was. It had been too long since they last talked, and it hadn't been in good terms.

"I know, I'm sorry." the visored mech bowed his head a little, feeling his anxiety growing.

"You're sorry." The words were spoken with so much dejection. "Obviously not sorry enough if it took you this long to talk to us."

Prowl felt Jazz tense and he wrapped his free arm around Jazz's middle, stroking his abdominal plates soothingly, trying to ease and encourage his bonded.

"I know. I..." Jazz decided to cut to the cross of the matter before he lost what ground he had gained. "I called ya because I would like ya t'meet my children."

There was a long pause, and once again Jazz feared his carrier would cut the transmission. "Children?" The voice asked surprised. "You have children now?"

"Yes, I have two beautiful sparklin's, an' a wonderful bondmate." Jazz was surprised how easily and with how much pride he could speak about his twins and his bonded. "I would like ya ta meet my twins."

"You're bonded and didn't bother to tell us. Now you expect us to go and see these twins of yours after all this time as if nothing happened?" The voice's raspy tone was laced with a little static as the accusation was thrown. "How considerate of you!"

Before Jazz could ever say anything the voice spoke again. "I suggest you do not attempt further contact with us. As far as we're concerned our dear son Jazz joined his twin brother in death several vorns ago. You are not our son, we have nothing to do with those twins you speak of."

Jazz clenched his dental plating tight, understanding right away the hurtful words were spoken as punishment, knowing his creator was expecting Jazz to apologize and become submissive, to beg for forgiveness for daring to go against their wishes. His creator was being cruel for the sake of earning apologies, to have Jazz rush to them and beg for their pardon.

"Yeah, you're right." Jazz's tone was cool, low and lacked that inflection Prowl loved. The visored mech pushed himself out of his mate's embrace, fury radiating from his frame.

"Jazz," Prowl called his mate pleadingly, asking in the utterance of the name for his bonded to control his temper and rein in his emotions, but Jazz would have none of it.

"Your children are dead t'ya, an' so are my children, because you don't deserve to meet them. I apologize for wastin' your valuable time." Before he could receive any answer, the visored mech cut the transmission and stalked out of the sparklings' nursery.

"Jazz!" Prowl called his mate as he rushed after him.

"Leave me alone, Prowl. I don't want t'talk to ya." Jazz quickened his pace and stepped into his studio, figuratively closing the door on Prowl's nose and locking himself within.

Prowl stared at the door for a few moments, knowing he could easily override the lock, but understanding Jazz needed time for himself. He was angry with his creators, and Prowl couldn't blame him. He also knew his mate blamed him for the hurt he had been subjected to just a moment ago, and again, Prowl understood his mate's anger. He was angry himself, although he only heard Jazz's half of the conversation what he heard and what he felt in his spark was enough to anger him. He was a father now, and he couldn't even fathom the idea of ever saying to their twins that they were dead to him.

The cries coming from the twins' nursery had Prowl marching away from the door to Jazz's studio. Prowl peered into the crib holding his children, Sunstreaker was crying with evident distress, and Sideswipe was all but trashing, wailing his own discomfort. Prowl knew exactly what was wrong with his sparklings and reached carefully to pick the thrashing red twin, holding him on his front against his chest, his black helm resting against his shoulder. Prowl had discovered before that when the sparklings were distressed and crying, calming Sideswipe first usually made Sunstreaker easier to handle.

"Shh, it's all right, Sideswipe, daddy will be fine," the chevroned mech murmured softly as he stroked his sparkling's back in soothing circles, managing to calm the sparkling enough to carefully take hold of Sunstreaker whose cries had subsided to whimpers. Maneuvering to pick the golden sparkling with his free arm, propping the sparkling to lay like his brother, with his head occupying his father's other shoulder, Prowl murmured soothing words to the older twin, making his way to one of the seats they had installed in the nursery.

Prowl seated himself, wiggling just a bit to lean better against the seat, prompting the piece of furniture to begin to rock back and forth gently. The sparklings were still whimpering quietly, cuddling against their father as the black and white mech began to hum, sending a surge of comfort and love through the bond he shared with his creations.

It didn't take long for Jazz to appear on the threshold of the nursery, Prowl didn't look up at him, knowing Jazz was feeling vulnerable at the moment and he'd feel Prowl was scrutinizing him. The smaller black and white mech made his way to his mate, moving the second seat next to the one where Prowl was rocking with their twins. Prowl handed one of the sparklings to his bonded, and for a while neither spoke, they merely rocked their children, both humming the melody Jazz composed for the sparklings some time ago.

"I'm sorry," Jazz spoke finally barely above a whisper, stroking a finger along Sunstreaker's cheek, the sparkling having fallen into recharge finally.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, I understand your situation." Prowl answered, stroking a finger idly along one of Sideswipe's little horns, watching the sparkling's optics flicker as he fought valiantly a lost battle against the need to recharge.

"I still wish things could have gone better." The visored mech's voice was soft, tingled with hurt and rejection.

"I know." Prowl reached to stroke his bonded's cheek, pulling Jazz close to press a kiss on a helm horn. The slightly smaller mech leaned better against his bondmate, thankful he had Prowl with him to help him shoulder through such times.

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Prowl wasn't entirely sure what Jazz would think of the action he was taking. Of course he could calculate the many potential outcomes, but he decided not to, knowing that could deter him from his chosen course of action.

Locating Jazz's creators had been a relatively easy thing, finding the appropriate time to leave Iacon for Polyhex without Jazz's suspecting what were his plans had been the hardest part. He managed, citing a work issue that required his presence in another city, claiming he'd be back home that very same cycle. Blaster had agreed to help with the cover up story, and soon enough Prowl was in Polyhex, searching for the living unit where Jazz's creators lived.

Why he was here was still a little fuzzy in his own Processors. He wasn't entirely certain what he hoped to achieve with this action, but the hurt that still lingered in his bonded's spark after the ill fated call to his creators prompted him to at least attempt to do something. What, exactly, he wasn't all that sure. He was angry, he was upset, but more than anything, he was disappointed.

Perhaps before he became a creator himself he could have felt some sympathy or understanding towards Jazz's progenitors, as after all he understood Jazz not contacting them in such a long time after their bitter parting was bound to sting. But now that he had children of his own, he just couldn't wrap his processors around the idea of ever claiming his children dead to him merely because they chose to follow a path that made them happy, even if he didn't approve of it.

Furthermore, he couldn't wrap his processors around the idea of them not being even willing to look at what a wonderful mech Jazz was and feel proud of their son. So, at the very least, he wanted to let them know what a great mech Jazz had turned out to be even without their help. It didn't matter to him whether the mechs would see the figurative light or not, he would defend his bonded even from his own creators.

Prowl was surprised to find Jazz's sires did not live in a complex full of living accommodations, but instead they owned a parcel of land where their home was built, a space of their own that they didn't share with other mechs. It was quite different from the kind of living accommodations he was used to, as it was extremely rare in Iacon to find someone owning a home like this. He couldn't help but imagine his darling Jazz toddling around in such a large space, having no worries about neighbors above or below and having all that room to roam free. Prowl admitted that, although his living unit was most definitely not modest and quite spacious, a place of their own like this would have been wonderful to raise their twins.

Gathering his wits, Prowl pressed the small pad on the door, quirking an optic ridge as the chime turned out to be a rather melodious tune, instead of the rather annoying beeping sounds he was so used to. It didn't take long for a mech to open the door, he was almost half a head shorter than Jazz, but Prowl could already see some similarities between the mech and his bonded.

"Yes?" the voice was a little raspy, tired, somewhat faded, making the mech sound much older than he looked. The mech's optics narrowed a little as they caught sight of the star emblazoned on the other mech's chest and the rank bars on his shoulder plates. "Can I help you, officer?" Prowl's wings twitched ever so slightly, the movement imperceptible for those who did know him well. He could hear a hint of a venomous tone in the mech's voice at that last word.

Prowl hadn't been referred to as an officer in such a long time, and quite honestly he wasn't an officer anymore really, his rank already pretty high in the security forces. Still, Prowl wasn't about to sour things even more by correcting the mech, it didn't quite matter in the end, he was still an Enforcer regardless of position -even if he was still more of an administrator by now. "Good evening, sir. My name is Prowl, I am looking for the family of one of our officers called Jazz. I presume you are one of his creators?"

The shorter mech didn't bother hiding the look of disgust that took over his features. "Perhaps. May I ask why are you here, officer?"

Prowl's wings tensed just a little bit, seeing already this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Not that he expected it to go well considering the outcome of Jazz's call but he was certain now he was going to make use of his by now legendary patience to not give this mech a good dressing down, at least for now.

Before Prowl could speak, though another mech approached, calling his own bondmate and asking what was going on. There was no doubt for Prowl that one had to be Jazz's other progenitor, something about the way he carried himself seemed so similar to Jazz, not so much in the grace of Jazz's movements, but in that gentle but confident way he carried himself. "Oh, hello officer. May we help you?"

This other mech's voice held no trace of the apparent hatred his smaller companion poured into the word. "It's about a member of your family, Jazz." Prowl watched the mech carefully to gauge his reaction, he saw the mech's shoulders slump a little, rather than tense as he expected. Prowl understood although Jazz was also a delicate matter for this mech, he didn't seem as hostile as his bonded.

"Jazz? Is there something wrong about him?" The mech held his bonded by his shoulders, tugging on him a little to prompt him to step away from the door. The other mech obliged him reluctantly, his narrowed and not very friendly gaze still locked on the enforcer. "Please, sir, come in."

Prowl thanked the mechs and stepped into their home, sweeping his gaze around the room quickly. "Jazz is fine, sir. May I ask if you are his creators?"

"That's not--" the smaller mech snarled but was cut off by his bonded.

"Yes, sir, we are. May we ask who are you and what brings you here if Jazz is fine?" The tone was rather calculating, and Prowl knew this mech was suspecting his visit was most definitely not an official matter.

"My name is Prowl, sir. Jazz is my bondmate."

The hiss that followed the admission had Prowl and the other mech turn to look at the shortest one, a look of pure, unrestrained anger adorned his features, his mouth pulled into a tight snarl. "An enforcer. He slagging bonded to an enforcer!"

The taller, silvery mech held his mate by his shoulders, calling him softly in a vain attempt to placate his ire. "What do you want here? You had not enough taking our son away from us? What more do you want? To rub it in our face plates just so we'll never forget your accursed bunch stole our son away from us?!"

"Stole?" Prowl quirked an optic ridge, squaring his shoulders unconsciously. He had no intention to present himself intimidating or imposing in any way, but he could not help the fire burning in his spark, how could this mech speak about the security forces like this? What did this mech know of what being an enforcer meant? "Sir, I assure you nobody has taken your son away from you."

"So you say! We had a wonderful life here, we had everything we could have hoped for until the moment our son abandoned us for the security forces!"

"Abandoned you?" Prowl's tone raised a little, thinking about the way Jazz had to live to achieve his dream. No, Jazz did not walk away from a loving home to make a career in the security forces without caring for who he left behind. Jazz had not an easy life after he left, that much Prowl knew. "Were you not the one who claimed he was dead to you when he approached you to make amends and meet our children?"

"Jazz left us for you!"

"No, you let Jazz go because he wouldn't conform to what you wanted." Prowl accused, locking a heated, challenging gaze with that of the smaller mech. "I do not know what future you had envisioned for Jazz, but his true call was with the enforcers. He didn't just walk from home to the academy and was warmly received there and had all his life sorted for him. He worked hard to achieve what he wanted. It was his dream, and he went through a lot to make it happen."

Prowl paused for a moment, reigning in his emotions to keep them from filtering through the bond. "I cannot believe you'd rather hold onto your bitterness than be proud of the great mech Jazz has become by his own means." Prowl brought a hand to his chest, right over his spark chamber, stroking as if with that action he was stroking and comforting his beloved. "I love him beyond words, and thank Primus every single cycle for the wonderful mech I have the honor and privilege to be bonded with, and the beautiful children we've created."

The silvery mech's gaze fell to the ground, while still holding his mate, his grip tightening a little as he heard the black and white mech speak in such way about his son. He could understand the mech, he could relate to the burning pride this enforcer felt for his mate and the gratitude he felt for having Jazz as his bonded. After all, he felt the same pride, love and gratitude for his own bonded. Finally he spoke, cutting off whatever his mate was about to say. "Officer, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. My bonded doesn't need any more of this. Please, leave."

Prowl looked back at the silvery mech who had remained silent through the ordeal, he saw in his optics a genuine apology, and a plea to spare his bonded any more sparkache. Prowl nodded and turned to leave. "I'm sorry," he muttered before he exited the living unit.

The silvery mech turned to his own bonded, "Go to lie down, I'll be with you in a moment." The shorter mech nodded and headed inside, shaking with hurt and bitterness. The silvery mech headed for the door, looking around quickly to locate Prowl, rushing after him. "Officer, please wait!"

Prowl stopped an looked over his shoulder, turning around as the silvery mech caught up with him. "I apologize for all of this. I beg you to forgive my mate he is... Jazz's departure was extremely hard on him." Prowl nodded, although he understood the other mech was hurt, it was hard for him to forgive the attitude he had towards his own son.

"Is Jazz -- How is Jazz doing?"

Prowl felt a flicker of respect growing for this mech, realizing the separation had been as hard on him as it was on Jazz, hoping that perhaps this mech would attempt later on to approach the visored mech for a reconciliation. "He's doing all right, though admittedly things haven't been easy for him lately."

The silvery mech nodded, rubbing a hand over his face plates "His carrier is a good mech, but sometimes his vocalizer runs before his processor and... he's quite emotional." the mech shook his head, knowing perhaps there was little he could say to convince Prowl what he saw of his mate wasn't his usual self. "I... was told you both had twins?"

Prowl nodded, a tiny, nearly imperceptible smile curved on his lips and he reached into his subspace, retrieving his sketch pad and sifting through his files to find a recent sketch of his children. He handed the pad to the mech to show him the sketch of their twins curled together against each other in their crib in peaceful slumber.

"They're gorgeous," Jazz's sire murmured with a hint of static permeating his voice, a sure sign of the emotion he was trying to hold back. "Jazz and Ricochet were curled like this shortly after they got their polymer forms," he said absently, brushing a finger over the drawn faces of the sparklings. "Are they doing all right?"

"They are our pride and joy," Prowl smiled fondly, thinking about his wonderful children, though he sobered when his mate's twin's name was mentioned. He was hesitant to answer the question, not wishing to pain the mech by talking about his lovely, healthy and curious twins when the mech lost one of his sparklings almost as soon as the little one detached. "They are doing well. They're very strong and healthy."

"I'm glad." The mech handed the pad back to Prowl.

Prowl subspaced his pad again, leveling a sympathetic look at his bonded's creator. "You're welcome to come to see them anytime if you wish."

The silvery mech nodded absently. "Thank you. I won't detain you any longer, please take good care of my Jazz and your sparklings."

"I will, sir. You have my word." Prowl bowed his head politely, bidding good bye to the other mech before transforming and taking off.

The silvery mech watched him until Prowl became but a dot in the distance, heading back to his home at a sedated pace. His mind focused in what Prowl said before about his son, much as it hurt him that Jazz left to take on a career they considered too dangerous, he admitted perhaps Jazz's true call was really as an enforcer. It wasn't just a random whim, as he understood Jazz left everything behind and would have had to struggle to survive and make his dream come true.

The silvery mech stepped into his home, feeling suddenly much older than he really was, his home feeling a lot emptier than before, and his longing to see his son once more grew more and more with each step he took inside his home towards the room he knew his bonded would have retreated to. As he expected, his bonded mate was sitting on the berth in the room that used to belong to Jazz, holding a small toy to his chest.

"You went to talk with him, didn't you?" The smaller mech asked, his primarily white armor plates reflecting the pale light provided by a small lamp on the wall above the berth's headboard.

"I did." The taller mech, a mixture of silver and black approached his mate, sitting down next to him, wrapping an arm around his bonded. "He's a good mech. Prowl really loves Jazz."

The smaller mech look up at his mate for a moment before turning his gaze back to the small toy in his hands. "He better."

"I know this is hard for you but what he said is right, you know?" The silvery mech wrapped his arms around his mate, pulling him closer. "I know we wanted nothing more than to protect our son after losing Ricochet, but we had no right to try to dictate what his life should be like. Jazz's spark was really set into becoming an enforcer, the reasons why we never gave him a chance to explain."

"I just couldn't do it," The smaller mech murmured, static permeating his voice. "I couldn't ever think about my sparkling being in danger every single cycle. Knowing every cycle something could happen to him. I saw one of my sparklings die, I just couldn't stand to see the other rush head first into getting himself killed."

"I know," the silver mech stroked his mate's arm. "But what's done is done. I think this was bound to happen nonetheless. It's time to let it go, my beloved."

"I can't do this." the smaller white mech shook his head. "He didn't even bother to call us to tell us he was bonding."

"With your reaction to his bonded choice, what did you expect?" the taller mech pressed a kiss to his bondmate's helm. "We hurt Jazz as much as his choice hurt us. We did tell him if he insisted in becoming an enforcer, he might as well consider us dead to him. He must have gone through a lot, going from the loving home where he had everything he wanted, to being all by himself in Iacon at such a young age. We have a very strong son, we should be proud of him."

"I miss him. I miss both of them." the smaller mech admitted, clutching the toy to his chest, the toy fashioned after their deceased child.

"Then, dearest, we must let go, forgive and ask to be forgiven for the wrongs we did to our son." the silver mech held his mate tighter, bringing his free hand to clutch the hands that held onto the toy. "We lost Ricochet, let's not lose Jazz again."

The smaller mech nodded and buried his face in the crook of his mate's neck. "I'm scared."

"I know. I am scared, too."

-----------------------

"Hey Prowl, there's something here for you." Blaster smiled as he peeked his head through the door of the black and white's office.

"Something for me?" Prowl looked up from his work, pushing aside the faint irritation about Blaster always barging into his office nearly screaming when he was in a good mood without any warnings.

"Yeah, a courier just delivered this message addressed to you." Blaster didn't bother coming further into the room, and instead threw the holographic display at the mech. Prowl caught it effortlessly reading the display's information as he quirked an optic ridge. "I see. Thank you, Blaster."

"No problem!" The orange mech waved of and left, the door sliding close afterwards. Prowl activated the display to read the message. He frowned after he was done reading, not sure what to make of the invitation. He did tell Jazz of his trip to Polyhex to see his creators, and although Jazz was still hurt by the reactions, he was grateful for his mate's support and the sliver of hope his sire might someday approach him again.

Prowl turned off the display and subspaced it, focusing back on his work for the time being, he'd show the display to Jazz and let him decide what he wanted to do. Although he was hoping for amends to be made between Jazz and his creators, Prowl wasn't keen on the idea of subjecting his mate to another potential bout of hurt delivered by his own creators, especially so soon.

Jazz himself had his own doubts about the issue once it was presented to him. He admitted he was open to see his sire, knowing from his mate's account that the silver mech had shown interest in him and their sparklings, and if he wanted to meet the twins, Jazz wasn't going to deny that to him.

His worry was about his carrier, and whether the mech was really willing to make amends with him. Jazz didn't want to expose his children to rude or harsh words coming from his carrier, he would not tolerate the mech to offend his mate or their sparklings and he knew if it came to that, Jazz would never forgive him.

Ultimately, Jazz decided, for his sire's sake, that they would accept their invitation to meet in Polyhex. The trip there had been relatively uneventful, save for the couple of times Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had been awake during the trip, both twins taken completely by the fast moving panorama. Prowl and Jazz laughed softly and were forced to pull down the blinds of their window every time to prevent their sparklings' processors from crashing trying to process the myriad of images moving quickly before their optics.

As they climbed down from the transport, the pair looked around for a moment, Jazz taking in the sight of Polyhex with a look of nostalgia adorning his attractive face plates. "It's been so long," He said softly, fixing his hold on Sideswipe, the sparkling was deeply in recharge, curled against his daddy.

Prowl said nothing, merely reaching to take his mate's free hand and squeeze it gently in encouragement. "Let's get going."

They headed straight for the area housing Jazz's living unit, not bothering to stop to look at places of interest in the city just yet, both wanting to get the meeting out of the way as soon as possible, hoping for the outcome to be favorable.

Jazz stood before the door of the home he grew in, feeling his spark flutter with anxiety, apprehension and fear. The myriad of emotions unsettled the sparklings and Prowl wrapped his arm around Jazz's shoulders, whispering words of comfort and encouragement, easing his bonded ad much as he could. They had no time to compose themselves much before the door opened, revealing a silver mech.

"Jazz, you came." the silver mech breathed the words, almost as if he was seeing a ghost, and in a way he was.

"Father," Jazz looked his sire up and down, finding the mech was almost exactly like he remembered him after so many vorns apart. Though Jazz could see the mech's optics were a little duller, they didn't glow as brightly as he remembered them to, and made him look far more aged than he knew his sire to be.

"Come in, please." The mech moved aside, bowing his head politely to Prowl in silent thank you for forwarding his invitation to Jazz, certain that Prowl had a hand in his son accepting to visit them. "Primus, it's been so long..."

Jazz nodded, looking around the walls of the home he left when he was still a youngling. The visored mech turned to look at his sire, a small quivering smile was growing on the silver mech's black face plates and Jazz had to turn to his mate, carefully depositing Sideswipe in his father's free arm before Jazz nearly threw himself a his own father's arms, pulling him into a tight hug.

"I've missed ya," Jazz murmured against a silver shoulder, feeling the arms of his sire tighten around him in response, a little of the hurt in his spark healed at that moment, feeling that faded connection between him and his sire rekindling. "I've missed you, too, my sparkling." Was the whispered reply.

Prowl smiled a little, holding his children a little tighter as he watched his bonded and his creator making a connection again, happy that at the very least Jazz was gaining back one of his progenitors. He tensed, however, when he caught a glimpse of the white, shorter mech on the threshold of the hall connecting with the living room.

"Jazz," the white mech's voice was different than it had been when Prowl last heard him, it was subdued, meek, fearful.

Jazz pulled himself away from his sire's embrace, peering over his shoulder at his carrier. He wasn't sure what to say, how to address him anymore. The silver mech seemed to sense his son's apprehension and hesitation, one he knew his own bonded shared and eased the process by extending his hand towards Jazz's carrier, encouraging him to join them.

Prowl watched as the shortest mech took a few slow steps before he was all but running to his son, wrapping Jazz in his arms, burying his face on Jazz's shoulder, holding him so tightly that Prowl was a little concerned his mate would return to Iacon sporting a couple of dents. The chevroned mech decided his mate and parents needed some time for themselves to sort things out, and quietly exited the living unit, taking a stroll around the area with his sparklings still deeply in recharge in his arms.

He was stopped a couple of times by random mechs and femmes in the street, curious to see the two recharging twins, and in more than one occasion he heard mentions of a couple who had sired twins but lost one of them, a few even sharing tales of the surviving twin whom they got to known when he lived there.

"Prowl!" Jazz called his mate, there was a definitive tone of relief and even joy in his voice, and the chevroned mech knew his mate was finally at peace with his creators. Prowl made his way back to his bonded, allowing Jazz to relieve him of Sunstreaker as they moved into Jazz's creators' home again.

"I guess ya two already know him, but this is Prowl, my bonded, an' these are our twins," Jazz said as he nodded towards his mate and then to his children.

"They're as beautiful as that drawing depicted." The silver mech said and smiled as he approached along with his own mate, looking down at the sleeping sparklings with a fond but somewhat melancholy expression.

"This is Sideswipe, would you like to hold him?" Prowl asked, holding his child out for Jazz's sire to take. The silver mech thanked him and carefully picked the sleeping red sparkling, a smile blossomed on his face as he held the sparkling to his chest.

"Wanna hold Sunstreaker, dad?" Jazz offered the golden sparkling to his spark carrier, grinning as the smaller mech nodded vigorously and took the sparkling in his arms. Jazz's creators seemed to glow with happiness as they held the slumbering twins, sitting together with their optics locked on their grandchildren.

Jazz smiled happily, wrapping his arms around Prowl's waist and resting his head on hi shoulder as the chevroned black and white mech wrapped an arm around him, watching his progenitors and his own offspring together, feeling everything was coming full circle, and that they were a family once again.

When Sunstreaker and Sideswipe woke to find themselves in those strangers' hold, the twins immediately whimpered, looking around for their parents. Prowl and Jazz were next to them in a click though they did not relieve the older mechs from their charges, merely stayed close enough for their sparklings to know they were there, relaxing them. "Hey sparklin's, meet yer grandfather an' granddaddy."

Sideswipe chirped curiously, looking from his daddy to the silver mech holding him before he just huddled a little better against the silver plates, as long as his own sires were around any mech warm enough was as good to use for recharge.

Sunstreaker looked at all the mechs around intently for a while before he decided to follow on his brother's steps, chirping softly as he made himself comfortable in the older white mech's arms, grunting a little when the four adult mechs broke in soft laughter and finally able to go back to sleep when they quieted.

"They're something," Jazz's carrier said, stroking the now recharging Sunstreaker's helm.

"They know what they want an' when they want it." Jazz nodded and stroked a finger along Sideswipe's cheek, looking at Prowl with adoration and then to his parents.

Later that cycle, Prowl and Jazz followed the older mechs to the local mausoleum. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker looked around with interest at all their new surroundings from their comfortable perches in their parents arms. "This is it," Jazz's carrier murmured solemnly, stroking his fingers along the golden plaque spelling his lost sparkling's name.

Jazz approached and brushed his own fingers along the carved glyphs of the plaque. Although he never knew his twin, having no memories of their first joor of life, his creators brought him often to visit the plaque, the only marker left of his brother's existence. It was then when he was introduced to the custom of speaking to the plaque as if the departed mech could hear them and interact with them. "Hey, bro, it's been a while," Jazz spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I haven't come ta see ya in so long."

Prowl approached his mate, holding Sunstreaker in his arms while Jazz held Sideswipe. "Look, bro, these are my little ones, they're like us, ya know?" Jazz watched Prowl hand cup his against the golden plaque, and felt two tiny, stubby hands touching him. He looked down at the sparklings in his and his bonded's arms, Sideswipe had his little hand on his chest plates, looking at him with a look that could only be interpreted as worry. Sunstreaker had his own little hand on Jazz's arm, looking at him with the same concern his twin showed. "I'm fine." he reassured his sparklings, pressing a loving kiss on the twins' helms, then turned to look at Prowl, smiling at him.

Prowl smiled back to his mate, releasing his hold on his hand to look at the plaque. He spoke softly, greeting his bondmate's twin, thanking him for looking after Jazz all this time, and promising to him he'd take good care of his twin and their sparklings.

"It's getting late, we should go back home, we moved a bigger berth into your room for you and your bonded." the silver mech laid a hand on Jazz's shoulder. "We installed your old crib into your room as well, I hope Sunstreaker and Sideswipe don't mind sharing."

Jazz laughed softly, shaking his hand. "They share a crib back at home, they refuse ta recharge in separate tanks so far."

"Let's go then." Jazz's sire turned around and began to lead his family back to their living unit. Prowl followed at a sedated pace, allowing Jazz to chat with his sire.

"Prowl?"

Prowl turned to look at Jazz's carrier, who had fallen into step with him. "Yes?"

The white mech sighed, watching Sunstreaker for a moment, the sparkling looking back at him, patting his arm before he focused his attention back on his surroundings. The white mech smiled a little at the sparkling but sobered as he leveled his gaze with Prowl's. "I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you the first time we met. Jazz told me you lost your own sire too young, so I just wanted to say: welcome to our family."

Prowl's lips curved in a grateful smile, bowing his head a little. "Thank you."

---------------------

Jazz smiled down at his twins, watching Sideswipe and Sunstreaker cuddled together, both clutching a little hand to the toy his spark carrier gifted them when they were laid to rest --the toy fashioned after Ricochet.

He fixed a thermal blanket around their legs to keep their temperature to their liking, knowing Polyhex could be a little colder than Iacon. The visored mech turned to his mate who was reading a data pad, laying on the berth in his old room, no doubt trying to catch up with pending work. Jazz eased himself on the berth against his mate. Prowl set the pad down and wrapped his arms around Jazz, pulling him closer. The slightly smaller mech smiled to his bonded, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "Thank you, love. Fer helpin' me ta regain my family."

Prowl smiled back at his mate, returning the tender kiss. He didn't need to say anything. They lay together in companionable silence until the lull of recharge claimed them, happy and at peace.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (25/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Steeljaw.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Here you go bun bun, more sparkling cuteness with an extra dose of Steeljaw. snugsbunny's permission and some concepts here, and showy Jazz are entirely her fault. I think we'll be making another time warp soon. Hope you like bun bun!

Prowl returned to his living unit to an unexpected silence. He verified the time in his internal chronometer, confirming it was the time Jazz would usually be feeding their twins and readying them for the bath. That usually entailed Jazz talking to the sparklings, making some time to wait for Prowl to get home so he could partake in the bathing duties.

Prowl peeked in the kitchen but found no one inside, then headed for the sparklings' nursery and found it empty. As he had passed by the wash rack on his way to the nursery, Prowl knew his mate and children weren't there. He detoured towards Jazz's studio but it was empty as well. Prowl was certain they weren't in the other free room and certainly not in his own studio, that left only one more place within their living unit where his family could be.

The chevroned mech headed for the room he shared with his mate and stopped under the threshold, a fond smile curved on his lips as he took in the scene before him. Jazz was laying on their berth on his side, resting his head over one arm and pressed against his abdominal plating Sideswipe and Sunstreaker recharged peacefully, curled against each other and their daddy. Jazz's free arm was wrapped around them, keeping them secure and warm, the visored mech also deeply in recharge.

Prowl watched his family quietly for a moment, feeling torn between the temptation of joining his bonded and children for a nap, and the sudden urge to draw the beautiful scene before him. His artistic impulses won in the end, and he moved silently into the room, seating on the ground far enough from the berth to get a good angle and view of the slumbering mechs. He extracted his pad and stylus and began to sketch away.

The chevroned mech managed to finish a very detailed sketch before his mate and children even awakened, deciding to save the drawing and subspace the pad and stylus. He didn't want to disturb their rest, especially since he knew the care of both sparklings demanded a lot from his bonded even with his help, yet he knew the twins needed their bath and to be refueled again or they'd be in a very grumpy mood for the remainder of the cycle, making it even harder for them to get enough rest.

Prowl approached the recharging mechs, taking Jazz's hand to remove it carefully, hoping perhaps he could bathe the twins by himself and allow his mate to continue recharging. He moved his mate's hand away gently, setting it on the visored mech's own thigh and began to pull Sunstreaker away from his daddy. It was the action that immediately had Jazz awake, sitting up a little to see what was going on. Prowl smiled apologetically, cradling his child in one arm and bringing his free hand to stroke his bonded's cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'alright," Jazz murmured with a sleepy slur, nuzzling the hand stroking his cheek. "I didn't mean ta crash like that."

"Get some more rest then, I'll take care of their bath." Prowl stole a kiss from his mate's lips.

"It's okay, ya know I like ta do this with you." Jazz smiled and claimed a sweet kiss back from his bondmate. Prowl nodded picked Sideswipe up to allow Jazz to sit up better.

Jazz stretched for a moment, smiling playfully as he arched his body a little more than necessary just to give his bonded a view, watching Prowl's optics darken just a little. "You're incorrigible, you know that?" Prowl murmured affectionately, holding the sparklings better against him as he leaned up to nip at Jazz's lips.

"Can't help it when ya keep givin' me that look," Jazz responded and stood, relieving his bonded from one of their sparklings. "Let's get these two mechlets ta the wash rack."

"Have they had their energon yet?" Prowl asked as he left the room with his bondmate and children, carefully beginning to stroke one of Sunstreaker's open little palms, an action that often brought the sparkling from his recharge quietly.

"They have, we had our energon a little earlier, Tracks dropped by with Steeljaw."

Prowl smiled down at his sparkling when Sunstreaker chirped sleepily, peering up at his father and then looking around for his daddy and brother. "I'm sure they were elated to see Steeljaw."

"As much as Steeljaw was ta see 'em, he likes t'play with our little ones, I think we should have him around a little more often, the twins could benefit from havin' him as playmate." Jazz grinned and brushed the back of a black finger against Sunstreaker's little nose, earning himself a tweet and a couple of clicks before the golden sparkling took hold of the finger waving it around as he chirped. It didn't take long for Sideswipe to wake from his own nap once his twin was fully awake, rubbing his little fists over his face.

"Hey there, lazy mechlet." Jazz grinned down to Sideswipe, rubbing his cheek against the red twin's little horns affectionately, earning a peal of happy chirping and squeaking from his sparkling, his finger still trapped in Sunstreaker's hands.

Prowl smiled widely, loving to watch his mate interact with their children. The twins were a handful and required a lot of cares and attention, and plenty of time devoted to their needs now that they were awake and active for longer periods of time; but Prowl couldn't say he minded. Jazz was happy and parenthood brought about new challenges he was more than happy and willing to take on, and both loved their sparklings as much as they loved each other.

The two black and whites prepared the tub for their sparklings, filling it with some cleanser and solvent. Jazz dropped a couple of toys in the tub, laughing contently as the twins dove to pick a toy each. For some reason the sparklings seemed to swap back and forth between which toy they wanted, as if by mutual agreement they decided who would play with which toy that time. It was something that surprised Jazz and Prowl alike, but they were glad the sparklings shared everything that way, preventing tantrums over the rights to play with the toys.

Prowl mused quietly as he dipped a cloth in the solvent and began to wash Sunstreaker's back, the sparklings seemed to have defined personalities already, Sunstreaker was the quieter of the two, he shared his twin enthusiasm about things, but was often a lot more subdued in his reactions. That didn't mean Sunstreaker didn't react as vividly and enthusiastically as his brother to some things, they both literally squealed loudly about certain things, and he was just as vocal when he protested certain things.

However, Sideswipe was the more extroverted, he tweetered, chirped, warbled and squealed over everything and anything, he bounced on his little aft when he was excited. He was the adventurous one while Sunstreaker was more cautious, and Sideswipe always made sure to let his presence be know, making as much noise as he could to make sure everyone would know he was there, it was as if the sparkling often made the introductions for him and his more introverted twin. In a way, Prowl felt the sparklings mirrored him and Jazz.

He watched Sideswipe play happily with his chosen toy, splashing the cleanser around while his daddy carefully and dutifully washed him. Sunstreaker was also playing with his toy, but seemed more interested in making little purring sounds of appreciation as his father rubbed circles with the cloth on his back. Washing the twins was always a special moment for them as a family, Sideswipe enjoying the whole process of being bathed, from feeling clean and fresh, to even the scrubbing and have his parents tend to his little body to playing around in tub with his toys and the cleanser. Likewise Sunstreaker really did enjoy to be bathed, playing in the tub with his toys and twin, and all the tender and dutiful physical contact with his creators as his body was cleansed.

Likewise, Jazz loved to watch Prowl bathe the sparklings, admiring the way he held the sparklings with such confidence, certain he was in no way harming the little ones and happy to make the twins feel good by being fresh and clean, and Jazz knew how talented Prowl was in the whole washing another mech's department. He could almost fall into recharge every time Prowl worked his talents on his own body when he spoiled him with a warm, soothing bath.

"Jazz."

Prowl's voice broke the near trance Jazz had fallen into thinking about Prowl washing him. "Yeah?"

"You're purring and projecting." Prowl smirked and nodded his head towards the tub, where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were making that cute sparkling sound that was almost like a purr but not quite there yet. Their optics closed, their little mouths curved into delighted smiles, and their little frames vibrated ever so slightly in absolute contentment.

"Oh!" Jazz's face plates heated up a little, not so much in embarrassment but about the effect his content thoughts and emotions had in the twins. He smiled sheepishly and continued to clean Sideswipe, laughing as the sparkling squeaked in contentment.

Prowl's smirk faded into a fond smile. "It would appear we have to spoil your daddy again, my sparklings."

Sunstreaker chirped vigorously his agreement, splashing cleanser in Jazz's direction. Sideswipe squealed and followed his brother's lead, except he ended splashing the cleanser towards Prowl instead.

"Hey!" Jazz protested in between peals of laughter but that only earned him more cleanser splashed in his direction from his golden sparkling. Prowl laughed as well, using an arm to shield himself from Sideswipe's attack. By the time the twins were fully cleaned, Prowl and Jazz were soaked from chevron and horns to toes.

The black and white pair dried their sparklings and themselves before taking their twins to their nursery, sitting on their rocking seats and fueling the sparklings before tucking them in to recharge. With the twins sleeping, Prowl took Jazz to their wash rack to properly wash themselves, making full use of that pool they both enjoyed greatly before they, too, headed to their room for some much needed recharge.

---------------------------

Jazz smiled as he watched Steeljaw happily pounce on a big toy of sorts earning squeals of excitement from Sunstreaker and Sideswipe who were watching him from their fort of padded mats. The visored mech sipped on his energon, just relaxing against his mate as he watched the three sparklings.

"It was a good idea ta look after Steeljaw while Blaster an' Tracks spend some time alone," Jazz spoke softly sneaking a peek to his bonded's sketch pad to see the drawing of the three sparklings Prowl was working on.

"It was," Prowl agreed and watched the sparklings enjoying their time together. Sideswipe picked toys and threw them as far as he could, which wasn't that far because he still wasn't coordinated enough to use the full extent of his strength; and Steeljaw chased after the toys all but rolling and stumbling around as he did. "They'll be Steeljaw's nightmare when they learn to crawl."

Jazz nodded his agreement and leaned better against Prowl, feeling rather warm and snuggly with all of his family enjoying a good time. "We ought ta take 'em for their check up at the end of the Deca-cycle."

"Yes, I already confirmed with our medic." Prowl looked back at his pad, refining details as he saw fit.

"An' my creators want ta see the twins again soon." Jazz smiled to himself, incredibly happy knowing his progenitors wished to spend as much time as they could with their grandchildren.

Prowl tapped the tip of his stylus to his lips, pondering. "We have security network upgrades to carry over and I'll have to be available at any time during the next three Deca-cycles for any incontinence. It would be preferable if they could come to stay with us for a few cycles." He saved his sketch and subspaced his tools, wrapping an arm around Jazz.

"That sounds good, actually. I can take 'em to have a look around Iacon, an' show 'em our home." The visored mech sighed contently, wrapping his arms around Prowl's waist gently nudging a toy that rolled nearby with his foot to allow Steeljaw to gnaw on it, prompting peels of squeals, chirps and giggles from the twins.

Later that cycle, Prowl laid Sideswipe and Sunstreaker in the crib they shared, carefully accommodating the toy fashioned after his bonded's twin in between the sparklings, pressing a kiss to each sparkling's helm. He turned to look at Jazz, who was tucking Steeljaw in a small basket like berth, designed to sustain Steeljaw temporarily until he could return to Blaster's chest.

With all the sparklings tucked for sleep, Jazz took his bonded's hands and led him to their own room for some recharge of their own.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (26/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And we have another short time warp, with chances in sight for our family, not entirely as fluffy as the previous chapter but important things are beginning here. Polymer bodies are used with snugsbunny's permission and some concepts here are entirely her fault. Hope you like bun bun!

When Prowl said the twins would become Steeljaw's nightmare once they learned to crawl, Jazz was not expecting the treatment would extend to himself. He had to keep all his sensors at maximum to keep up with the sparklings' pace. The adventurous Sideswipe let nothing crumple his avid desire to explore his surroundings freely now that he could move himself anywhere he wanted. And where Sideswipe went, Sunstreaker wasn't far behind.

What was worse is that their sparklings had quite a few places to explore and several potential hiding spots, which made to look for the twins quite an effort in itself. Jazz sighed softly, rubbing the back of his neck gently to soothe away the soreness from being with his head stuck underneath any furniture that could help as hiding place, he almost missed the sound of the door opening and closing. He whipped his head around to see his bonded strolling into the room, only to tense and release a hiss of pain as his neck protested the action.

"What happened?" Prowl asked and quickened his pace towards his mate, moving to stand behind him so he could see what was giving his mate such pain.

"Ah, jus' a little sore, been peekin' under the furniture a lot in the past joor alone." Jazz chuckled, feeling Prowl's fingers pressing gently against the neck, rubbing gently along the cables, tubing and joints to ease the tension. Jazz couldn't help the soft moan that left his vocal processor, feeling the pain slowly ebb away.

"Chasing the twins again?" Prowl asked softly, carefully massaging his bondmate's neck.

"More like we're playin' hide an' seek, but they failed ta let me know." Jazz sighed again, leaning a little better against his mate, feeling a little drowsy at the wonderful touch of his beloved. "Gotta find 'em still. How was work?"

"Mm, we'll talk about that later. Let's go find those little miscreants." Prowl pressed a soft kiss to the back of Jazz's helm and stepped aside to look for the sparklings. They had installed a small barrier on the door to the hall leading to the rooms and the kitchen, so the twins were definitely confined to the living room and entrance hallway.

"You know, I'm considering to have a tracking chip installed to them at this rate." Prowl joked as he lowered himself to his knees, studying the scene of the crime before him. Jazz was crouched at his side in a moment, laughing softly. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' about getting 'em a harness and a leash like Steeljaw."

They both laughed softly at the idea, knowing that they would probably refrain from any kind of restrictive measures for their sparklings unless it was absolutely necessary. Prowl studied the area full of padded mats where the twins would normally be lowered to play with their toys, trying to follow the trail of their children without confusing it for the trail Jazz himself left in his pursuit of the wayward sparklings.

"Over there." Prowl pointed behind one of the corner tables, there was a lamp attached to the wall atop it, casting some light on a toy left carelessly on the ground. "Then, they moved in that direction." Prowl pointed behind one of the larger couches that wasn't pushed fully against the wall. "From there, they probably have been moving around as you approached."

"That means it's time for some team work, lover." Jazz grinned and stood powered down his optics, focusing the input to his sensory horns and his audio receptors. Prowl took his position and began to walk around the room, he knew the sparklings could see him and more than likely would move away if he came too close, giving Jazz a lock on their position by use of his sensory horns and audios.

Jazz listened carefully, his acute senses picking on the movements in the room, he could discern the difference between Prowl's body moving and the sparklings' bodies, and Prowl was a very quiet mech, his steps produced the faintest of sounds, allowing Jazz to focus on any other sounds. As they expected when Prowl got too close to them, the sparklings crawled away to hide, giving their position away. "Found 'em!" Jazz cried triumphant and pointed towards where the two sparklings were hidden, and shortly after Prowl was walking towards him with two armfuls of sparklings.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker clapped their hands happily despite their little game having come to an end, they were happy to have been found by their father. Prowl handed one of the twins to Jazz and they headed to the kitchen to get their energon so they could refuel the sparklings.

With the energon retrieved, Prowl seated himself on the floor with Sideswipe in his arms, beginning to feed the sparkling, Jazz sat next to him, feeding Sunstreaker. "What's eatin' ya, love?"

"Mm? What?" Prowl replied distractedly, tearing his gaze away from his sparkling to look at his bonded.

"I asked what's got ya in this broodin' mood. Somethin' wrong at work?" Jazz asked with concern showing clearly in his voice. "Ya didn't seem too willin' t'talk about yer work when ya got here so I assume somethin' ain't right?"

Prowl vented a heavy sigh, blinking when Sideswipe retired the special cube's little opening from his mouth and tried to imitate his sire blowing air out instead of sighing. Sunstreaker tried to do it too but his attempt was no more successful. Prowl and Jazz both laughed at the sparklings and Prowl shook his head. "Something happened and I'm not sure if it's a good or a bad thing."

Jazz said nothing, waiting patiently for Prowl to pick back up when he felt ready. Prowl's wings twitched a little before he began to speak again. "I'm being removed from my current post."

Jazz felt his pump stop for a moment. "Why?"

"By order of the senate I must undertake a series of courses in tactical planing, military strategy, and a rather extensive list including undergoing an upgrade." Prowl forced himself to remain as neutral and even minded about the issue as he could, not wishing for his feelings of uneasiness to project to their twins as they refueled.

Jazz however, was perplexed. "What? But why?"

"Remember I mentioned the head of Kaon's security forces was visiting?" At Jazz's nod Prowl's wings twitched again. "Well, commander Shockwave went through the dossiers and personal records of the staff and apparently decided a few of us should be relocated to other areas where our distinctive talents would be better taken advantage of."

"An' he decided ya weren't being properly taken advantage of in yer current position?" Jazz himself wasn't sure what to make out of this, Prowl already carried a very heavy load.

Prowl nodded as he set down Sideswipe's now empty cube. "Well, he also read my medical report, personally took a look at my processors and determined I shouldn't be in my current position. He claims I have all it's needed for me to become a tactical advisor, apparently he was impressed by the complexity of the logic centers in my processors and filed a report directly to the senate advising of a promotion, the upgrade and courses."

"He can do that?" Jazz moved Sunstreaker over his shoulder, rubbing gentle circles around the sparkling's back.

Prowl mimicked Jazz's actions, bringing Sideswipe to his shoulder. "Apparently the Senate favors him greatly, I'm sure if Sentinel wasn't our Prime Shockwave would be the head of the security forces at large."

"An' the senate approved it."

"Yes. Shockwave claimed I had potential that was being wasted in my current position. In his opinion I should be Sentinel Prime's second and dealing with tactical planing and strategy." the chevroned mech set Sideswipe on his knee, playing gently with the sparkling's hand.

"So, how's that goin' ta affect us?" Jazz asked as he picked one of Sunstreaker's favorite toys, handing it to the golden twin.

"Well, I'm being sent to attend courses in the Cybertronian Academy, My shifts are being cut in half to allow me time to attend to these courses, but otherwise and until I conclude the training and recover from the upgrades, nothing will change." Prowl paused, gathering his thoughts, trying to break out the not so glamorous part of his reassignment to his mate. "After that, though, I'll be moved from my current position to take over the tactical unit, and in extreme cases my presence in the field could be required."

"What about us?" Jazz asked, already feeling rather apprehensive about the news.

"The duration of shifts should remain the same, it just means sometimes I'll be late if something extreme comes up and my presence is needed for an evaluation." Prowl reached to take his bondmate's hand, squeezing it gently. "If it's any consolation, I'll have longer leave periods now."

"Jus' make sure ta let me know what yer doin' when ya gotta be out there, please." Jazz tried to smile but he couldn't help the worry evident on his face. He understood now why even if Prowl had been the twins' carrier Jazz wouldn't have been able to remain in the field, he was terrified of his mate being in any dangerous situation, although it was unlikely Prowl would see direct action he knew his mate could be required to direct extremely delicate situations.

"I am not leaving you and our children just like that, Jazz. Nothing's going to stop me from coming back home to my family." the chevroned mech pressed a kiss to his bonded's forehead. "I won't be going anywhere for a while anyway. Let's go out for a while, I think we all need to relax and do something fun."

Jazz smiled at his bondmate and stood up, heading for the nursery. "Let's get these two gentle bots ready then." Prowl followed his mate, already making plans about the places to go and what to do.

--------------------

By the time they were back at their living unit, the twins were deeply in recharge, and both Prowl and Jazz carried small crates full of trinkets for the sparklings and some for themselves.

"I still say we should have bought the sparklets a cleanser spittin' turbo fox for their bath time." Jazz commented in a low voice as he tucked his children in their crib. "Ya know, I don't think Sunstreaker an' Sideswipe will be able to share their crib for much longer, they barely fit comfortably together now."

"They make enough of a mess just by themselves as it is, I'd rather if don't get them more ammunition." Prowl huffed softly, carefully sorting through the items they had acquired, smiling at the image capture they had taken of their sparklings that cycle, chuckling softly at Sideswipe's grumpy expression at the flash of light hurting his optics and Sunstreaker all but wailing, the capture showing his open mouth in detail as he screamed some audios off. "I think maybe we should give another try to have them recharging on different cribs, otherwise we're going to need a bigger tank."

"Well, we can try that later, dunno 'bout ya but I'm exhausted." the visored mech smiled tiredly at his mate, taking his hand and tugging to guide him out of the room after a quick stop to kiss their sparklings goodnight.

As they lay together on their berth, Prowl sighed softly, holding the sleeping Jazz against him as he uttered a quiet plea to Primus to allow for the changes that'd inevitably take place in the near future would bring good things for his family.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (27/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: More sparkling cuteness, and I swear these two really make it hard to keep this rating from going up. Polymer bodies are used with snugsbunny's permission and some concepts here are entirely her fault. Be getting ready for moar time warping. /Jet-twins st00pidly fun fake Russian accent.

Sideswipe chirped unhappily, throwing a death glare at the damnable barrier blocking his path to the glorious freedom of the hall and the many rooms he could be getting into. He used the netting of the barrier to stand better on his wobbly legs before he let go and with a huff dropped back on his aft, warbling what had to be a plethora of not very nice words for a sparkling to speak.

One would think it was lucky sparklings did not require diapers, or else the red little demon would be hiding a screwdriver in his.

With his path blocked, Sideswipe did the next best thing he could, get on his hands and knees and head to the couch his father was laying against, sitting on the ground with a collection of pads next to him, while his blue optics were locked in the content of the one he was currently holding in his hand. Sunstreaker was sitting next to him, sampling one of his favorite toys while looking up at his father.

Sideswipe plopped in front of his sire, giving him the best unhappy pout he could muster. Although Prowl was concentrated in his studies, he did not miss the look on his son's face and set the pad down gently, holding his hand out for Sideswipe to come to him. Sideswipe chirped happily, maneuvering himself to his feet to attempt the glorious feat of walk to his father, but as soon as one foot left the ground, the red twin was soon to find himself landing back on his aft.

Sunstreaker removed his toy from his mouth and began to giggle and chirp at his brother's unsuccessful attempts, earning an angry warble from his twin. "Language, young gentlemech," Prowl chided his sparkling, having realized pretty soon that kind of sounds were definitely equivalents to words he'd rather not hear from his children so young. Sideswipe chirped meekly and tried to stand up again and attempt to walk but his polymer body couldn't support him just yet. Sunstreaker hadn't even tried and although that had Prowl and Jazz worried at first, their medic assured them it was quite normal, Sideswipe was just becoming impatient and attempting such feats a little too soon. The medic warned they wouldn't be able to walk until they received their definitive protoform. Jazz had answered to that statement with 'You try tellin' that to Sideswipe.'

Their children's Protoforms would be ready sometime during that same Deca-cycle, and both parents were extremely nervous about the event. The first upgrade would be the most critical, if something did not go right with the procedure or the spark wasn't strong enough, the sparkling could perish attempting to reform the protoform into a new, definitive body. Jazz was understandably fretting about the issue, scared and anxious, and although Prowl wasn't that much better, he reminded himself and his mate Jazz was strong enough to survive that procedure despite being a split spark twin himself.

Prowl had convinced his mate to go out for a while, go window shopping or something to calm his nerves after they received word the Protoforms would be ready through the deca-cycle; offering to stay at home and watch over the sparklings so Jazz could have some time to himself. Sideswipe's unhappy whimpers and chirps were becoming distressed and Prowl shook his head smiling to his sparkling. "You don't have to try to walk all the way over here, my dear sparkling, just crawl."

Sideswipe huffed in defeat but did as his sire suggested and just crawled to his father, sitting on Prowl's lap. The red sparkling chirped as his optics looked down at the pile of pads, grabbing one between his diminutive hands, which required considerable effort. He chirped quizzically and looked up at his father, Prowl met his child's gaze and stroked his helm gently. "That's a book file about search and rescue protocol."

The sparkling looked back at the file, then back at his father and back at the file before he let it drop to the ground with a huff, apparently finding the topic was everything but interesting and fun. Sunstreaker let his toy drop to the ground and clapped his hands over his optics in what looked a bit too much like a gesture of frustration from the golden sparkling towards his twin. "It's not the most recreative of texts, I'll give you that." Prowl laughed softly, watching Sunstreaker lean over his father's thigh, using it as pillow.

Sideswipe clicked and tweetered softly, his own optics flickering on and off to confirm Prowl's suspicion his sparklings were ready for a nap. Carefully moving his pile of pads aside, Prowl picked Sunstreaker with one arm, securing Sideswipe in the other and headed towards the sparkling's nursery, ducking the barrier that was the bane of Sideswipe's existence.

The chevroned mech lowered the sparklings to their respective cribs, a relatively small hole had been cut through the protective walls of the tanks, pressing them one against the other to allow the openings to meet. It allowed for the sparklings to still have some degree of contact if they needed it, while each sparkling had enough comfortable room for each other now that they had grown too big to share the single tank. The sparklings had adapted well to the change, both quickly positioning themselves in their cribs to have their little hands touching through the hole.

Prowl set their Ricochet toy on the space between both cribs and pulled up thermal blankets around the sparklings' legs to regulate their temperature, pressing a kiss to the twins' helms and turning on the monitoring speaker, heading out of the room to let his children have their nap.

He lowered himself on the couch, leaning against it as he picked his discarded pad to return to his studies. It didn't take long before he heard the familiar sound of their home's door sliding opening, knowing his mate was back from his trip the slightly taller black and white stood to meet his bonded. "Had fun?"

"Yep!" Jazz grinned and gave a little jump over the barrier to meet his bondmate, wrapping his arms around Prowl to steal a kiss from him. "Found Tracks around the commercial district, he showed me around some of the new music shops, I got a couple of book files, an' took the chance to resupply our cabinets, too."

"I see you certainly busied yourself." Prowl laughed softly and returned the kiss, watching Jazz deactivate the barriers and head to the kitchen, pulling a crate from subspace with his purchases. "Well, I'm pretty sure yer gonna like what I got for ya." Jazz's grin was threatening to split his face in two. The visored mech picked a canister he threw at his bonded, Prowl caught it effortlessly. "Wax?"

"Mmhmm." Jazz all but leered at his bondmate. "Imagine a nice bath, some quality time in our energon pool, endin' with a nice an' relaxing waxin'."

Prowl laughed and removed the cap, arching an optic ridge at the consistency. "Somehow I doubt that waxing is going to be the end of the treatment."

"Maybe," Jazz replied in sing-song, looking at Prowl over his shoulder as he restocked their cabinets with energon and goodie ingredients. "That is if ya've been a good mech while I've been gone."

"And how do you suppose I can prove I've been a good mech?" the chevroned mech replaced the cap back on the canister of wax and moved into the kitchen, resting a hand on Jazz's hip.

"I can think of a few things," Jazz murmured in a seductive tone.

"Such as?" Prowl purred.

"Well, have you put our bitlets ta recharge?" Jazz wrapped an arm around Prowl's neck, brushing his lips lightly against Prowl's, his free hand still busy refilling their cabinets.

"Yes, I have." Prowl's fingers on Jazz's hip began to stroke lightly.

"Mmm good," Jazz purred his approval, closing the cabinet to bring a black finger to trace Prowl's lip components, smiling a little as Prowl kissed the fingertip. "Is that homework done?"

Prowl's hand on Jazz's hip stilled and the darkened blue optics brightened as they widened, "Err..." He looked at Jazz then back at his pile of data pads before unceremoniously dropping his head to Jazz's shoulder with a clank. "Thanks for killing the mood."

Jazz's rich and melodic laughter filled the room as he wrapped his arms around his mate's shoulders, patting the back of his helm. "Sorry,"

"No, you're not." Prowl replied dryly but with a smile on his face as he turned his head a little to face Jazz.

"Consider it an incentive ta get it done as soon as possible." the visored mech kissed the side of Prowl's helm and pushed his mate away a little. "I'll get us some goodies done in the meanwhile."

"All right." the chevroned black and white kissed his bonded and headed back to the living room to pick back on his studies, looking forward to Jazz's incentive.

-----------------------

Jazz watched the procedure nervously, the Protoforms that would house his and Prowl's children definitely if everything went right laying on the medical berths while Sideswipe and Sunstreaker whimpered in the nurses' hold. He wanted to pick his sparklings and reassure them everything would be all right, but he wasn't allowed to touch them anymore.

Prowl's hand squeezing his own lent him strength. Jazz knew Prowl was no less scared and anxious than he was, but he insisted in remain cautiously optimistic, for his and his bonded's sake.

Prowl kept his optics locked in the now wriggling, crying forms of their twin sparklings, both laid on small tables next to the berths where their Protoforms' capsules were. Jazz did not want to see the next step, so he looked away, squeezing Prowl's hand tightly as their twins' cries filled the room, feeling like a horrible parent for allowing their children to go through this, yet knowing it had to be done.

The cries quieted as the medic prepared for the removal, working on Sunstreaker while his assistant worked on Sideswipe, guiding the assistant all through the procedure. Soon the twin sparks were moved into the Protoforms, and the real test of Sideswipe's and Sunstreaker's strength began.

The sparks now rested protected in their respective chambers within the protoform, and soon enough the capsules were closed to allow the reformatting process to begin.

"Jazz," Prowl called his mate gently, forcing the visored mech to look at the chambers where their sparklings would engage in their ultimate fight for life. Once in their Protoforms they could continue their evolution and growth aided with proper upgrades to allow them to reach their adulthood.

Jazz watched quietly as the chambers glowed with the inherent light of the twins' sparks working to reformat the bodies to take their shape, they were expected to be a little bigger than they were in their polymer forms and definitely physically stronger. Jazz mused once the sparklings were released from their chambers Sideswipe would be granted the joy of his first steps along with his twin. He prayed silently for everything to go well, so he could witness that glorious moment.

When the light faded, everyone remained in a tense silence, the medic approached Sunstreaker's chamber, pressing a few keys to get a diagnostic -- the reformatting process concluded and they wouldn't know if the spark survived until they tried to bring the sparklings online.

The medic instructed his assistant to remove Sideswipe from his capsule, calling for the parents to come so their children could see them once the Protoforms were brought online. The two little bodies gleamed, their forms were shinier, looked a little smoother and sturdier. Still, the dark, lifeless optics and blank, expressionless faces disturbed Jazz, hoping soon the optics would light up to bright blue and their sparklings would utter those beautiful sparkling chirps he loved.

With utmost care the medic worked to bring the sparklings online. For a second noting happened, but soon enough the sure sound of systems powering up could be heard, a soft hum that thrived with life. Sunstreaker's optics lit up, so bright they were almost white, and soon enough a loud wail could be heard before the tiny golden body thrashed around a little, crying for his parents. Mere seconds later, Sideswipe's own cries echoed his brother's, crying to the universe at large they were alive.

Prowl and Jazz picked their sparklings as soon as the medic allowed them, holding their now a little heavier children against their chests, murmuring loving nonsense to their twins as the sparklings chirred and chirped softly, their cries quieting down under the loving attentions and the familiar pulse of their progenitor sparks offering comfort.

Jazz traced a finger along Sunstreaker's cheek, clicking softly at his oldest son with a look of absolute adoration, smiling with barely restrained emotion at the soft clicks and chirps Sunstreaker answered with. Prowl smiled down at Sideswipe who was also chirping and clicking at him, the chevroned mech obligingly replying with soft clicks and loving words to the red twin.

Jazz peered over at Sideswipe, his smile brightening a little more as he confirmed with his own optics and spark that their sparklings were fine and the process did not affect them in the slightest. He looked up at his mate, and throwing any sense of propriety through the proverbial window, leaned forward to kiss his bonded, whispering a 'Thank You' and 'I love you'.

Prowl reciprocated the kiss, among the soft cooing sounds of their children who were now busy chirping and cooing to each other as their parents kissed. They both had much to thank to each other, Primus, and their good fortune for each other and the wonderful sparklings they created.

Silently, Jazz thanked his deceased twin for looking after his little ones, thankful neither of his children would have to grow without the other.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (28/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: The bun bun needed some pick me up, and a pick me up I hope to deliver. Not entirely pleased with this chapter but oh well. I'm a bit rusty this week. Hope ya like snugsbunny!

Jazz smiled pressing the trigger of the image recording device so hard he was sure he almost broke it. He couldn't help it, he wanted to capture every click of the very important event taking place at that moment.

Sat cross legged on their living room, Prowl's hands were extended out towards a Sunstreaker standing in wobbly legs. The golden twin had a deep frown of concentration and determination on his faceplates as he fought against his center of gravity, intend in taking his first steps towards his father's waiting arms.

Sideswipe was clinging to Jazz's leg to support himself, having already conquered the challenge of walking just a couple of cycles ago much to his daddy's delight and father's pride. He chirped and warbled excitedly, encouraging his twin to follow on his steps, almost literally.

"Come on, Sunstreaker, you can do it." Prowl smiled at his son encouragingly, pride glowing brightly in his optics as Sunstreaker scowled deeply and moved a leg tentatively, not quite removing his foot from the ground, thus dragging his feet at first. He warbled angrily at Sideswipe when his twin chirped louder, apparently prompting him to just get over with it and walk already.

Jazz chided Sideswipe gently, instructing the sparkling to not pressure his brother while still recording his golden sparkling's every movement. Soon enough, Sunstreaker was taking slow but confident steps, one foot moved, he stayed where he was regaining his balance, then the next foot took the following step. Little by little, Sunstreaker reached Prowl's outstretched hands, he took hold of one of his father's fingers for support, and continued the last few steps until he climbed to his father lap with a loud chirp of victory.

Sideswipe squealed and trotted rapidly towards his twin who was currently trapped in his father's loving embrace, squealing and giggling as Prowl nuzzled his helm, congratulating him for the feat. Jazz was also quickly at their side, showering the sparkling in praise, just like they had done when Sideswipe took his first steps.

Jazz set his camera aside and snuggled against his bonded, watching their sparklings, now comfortably sitting on their parents laps, warbled and chatted to each other, Sideswipe waved his arms around energetically, while Sunstreaker instead conserved energy, being very economical in his gestures, not too different from his father, though Jazz wanted to think he wasn't a flailing mass like Sideswipe, at least not as an adult in any case.

Prowl smiled to his bonded, wrapping his free arm around Jazz as they both watched their excited sparklings, though he made a mental note to upgrade the barriers they currently used, having found small dental marks on the generator of one of the barriers, and he knew very well whose dental plate marks those were.

"Come on, let's get these two little mechs fueled, shall we?" Jazz stood with Sideswipe in his arms, heading for their kitchen while followed by Prowl. They set the twins in a couple of seats they had adapted to hang from the counter, securing the twins with the proper harness. Prowl handed the sparklings a couple of toys to entertain themselves with while he and Jazz prepared their energon formula.

Jazz was thankful Sunstreaker gave his first steps that cycle, as the next would see the time for Prowl's surgery to receive his upgrades and although they were told the operation would be simple and Prowl would be allowed back home in a cycle or two, Jazz had feared his mate could miss out on Sunstreaker's steps during his recovery.

After feeding the twins and playing some more with them, Jazz and Prowl took the sparklings to their room, carefully tucking them in for recharge. Jazz watched Prowl linger a little longer than usual, leaning over the cribs to press a kiss to their little helms. The visored mech frowned a little, feeling a faint string of anxiety coming from his mate despite Prowl's attempts to block it.

"Yer okay, Prowl?" Jazz asked quietly, squeezing his bonded's shoulder gently.

"I'm fine." Prowl turned around and smiled at the smaller mech. "Let's go get some rest of our own."

Jazz obliged his mate but couldn't help but feel Prowl was downplaying his worries, but decided not to press on the matter at the moment, knowing Prowl would speak about it once he felt ready.

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Jazz onlined to a faint rush of cold and a semi empty berth. Prowl was nowhere to be seen, and after checking his internal chronometer realized it was definitely too late for his bonded to be up and about.

The visored mech left the room, knowing that, if Prowl was somewhere in their home other than their room, he had to be huddled inside his studio. Jazz peeked inside the room housing Prowl's art supplies and larger drawing surfaces, and as expected, Prowl was standing before a rather large canvas, a paintbrush in one hand and a palette in the other. Jazz said nothing for a while, standing under the threshold of the studio as he watched Prowl paint his piece.

The visored mech smiled fondly as he recognized the shapes of the three subjects of his bondmate's painting. How could he not? Even though Prowl seemed to be intentionally trying to skip giving defining features to the three mechs, Jazz could easily see himself in the painting with their sleeping twins huddled against him, his arm wrapped protectively around the sparklings as he slept.

Finally, Jazz strode into the room quietly, though he was sure Prowl knew he had been there for a while already. He wrapped his arms around his bonded's mid section, resting his head against Prowl's shoulder. "What's botherin' ya, love?"

Prowl vented a heavy, weary sigh and he dabbed the paint brush in more paint, absently adding reflections and highlights to the darker areas of Jazz's armor in the painting. "I'm concerned about the way the upgrades will affect me."

Jazz understood and carefully took Prowl's hand, relieving him of the paint brush which he set down inside a recipient with solvent. "What worries you?"

Prowl took Jazz's cue, setting down the palette as he turned to regard his partner. Jazz couldn't help the little smile that took over his lip components, noticing Prowl never got himself stained with paint even when he was painting.

"I was explained the upgrades are meant to unlock unused portions of my CPU, and the back up tactical computer and uploaded data could possibly affect the way I react to a situation, potentially altering my personality."

Jazz frowned behind his visor, gently drawing his mate into a comforting embrace. "That doesn't sound good. If it can alter yer personality like that shouldn't the Senate cancel the upgrades?"

Prowl shook his head, resting his head against Jazz's chest, holding onto his bonded gently and basking in the comfort and love Jazz transmitted to him through their link. "The Senate was given no reason to cancel the upgrades, the medics assured us the drawbacks would be minimal, but... they admitted some of my preferences could change because of the effect of the upgrades in my personality."

"That's still not good," Jazz murmured, feeling he sudden urge to hide Prowl somewhere so he wouldn't have to undergo the upgrades. Prowl pushed away a little and turned his gaze to the painting. "I wanted to finish it before I was upgraded." he paused, casting a longing gaze at the large canvas. "Just in case." He added softly.

Jazz held Prowl tightly, understanding now what Prowl was worried about. He feared the way his processors would operate after the upgrades would affect or eliminate completely his love for his artwork and perhaps even his skill, bringing an end to his mate's artwork. "Oh, Prowl." Jazz didn't know what to say to his bonded, he didn't know what he could do about it. Prowl was certain other aspects of their life would not be compromised, but something abstract like his love for artwork could clash with his upgraded CPU.

In the end, there was nothing they could do anymore, they held each other tight and Jazz prayed silently as he led Prowl back to their shared room, pleading for his mate to not be affected negatively, knowing that a little part of Prowl would disappear if he ever gave up his artwork.

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The surgery was completed without complications, and Jazz was allowed to stay with his mate while Prowl recuperated. Several tests were performed and no negative after effects seemed to befall the chevroned mech. Jazz had sneaked a sketch pad and stylus for Prowl, and both were delighted to find the mech's love for drawing and skill had not been affected by the upgrades. However, Jazz did notice Prowl seemed to be able to sketch a little faster than he recalled, though he dismissed the thought, thinking perhaps it was just his CPU playing tricks on him.

After Prowl was released from medical, he was granted two deca-cycles of leave to attend training and further exams to begin his incorporation into the tactical unit, where, as Shockwave predicted, he reached new heights and shone all through his examinations and simulations, his processing and calculating power had all but triplicated. The free time was spent with his family, beginning to plan a few modifications to their home to better fit the living unit for the growing twins and conform to their new needs.

Jazz was happy with the way things were progressing, although he would have to admit Prowl's first day of service under the tactical unit had been emotionally stressful and draining, as his bonded unexpectedly saw field action on that cycle. Prowl proved to be up to the task, assisting in the satisfactory resolution of the conflict with only minimal injuries sustained by the culprits.

Prowl rubbed the back of his neck gently as he stepped into his home, smiling when the sound of the closing doors alerted the twins of their father's arrival. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe chirped and clicked happily as they trotted up to their father, arms wide open as they flailed a little before they wrapped around Prowl's legs, welcoming Prowl back home.

"Hey there," Prowl smiled, carefully detaching each sparkling from his legs, cradling his sons in his arms as he strolled into the living room, smiling fondly as he found Jazz sprawled on the couch with a tired but very content expression. "Hey, lover," Jazz murmured softly, patting the couch to invite his mate to sit down. "How was work?"

"Uneventful." Prowl carried the sparklings to the couch, waiting for Jazz to move and sat down, allowing the visored mech to use his lap as pillow. "You look terrible," He murmured playfully, gently setting Sideswipe down, who curled against Jazz's chest while Sunstreaker remained happily perched on his father's arms.

"Yeah, they've been a handful today." The visored black and white mech didn't bother to hide just how tired he was, thankful his bonded was back home to help take care of their bundles of joy and seemingly endless energy. Prowl nodded and watched the sparklings, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker chirped and warbled back and forth having a conversation of their own as the chevroned mech stroked his hand along the crest of Jazz's helm. "Why don't you go to lay down for a while, I'll get these two hellions refueled."

Jazz shook his head, albeit sleepily. "Nah, Ya know I wanna be 'round to enjoy our bitlets together. They're a handful but they're only sparklin's once."

Prowl nodded and massaged a sensory horn tenderly, already beginning to plot something to pamper his definitely exhausted mate. "I'll get their energon ready then," Prowl said in that tone Jazz knew meant he wouldn't take any protests from him. That was fine with the former enforcer, he really was that tired that cycle. Prowl handed Sunstreaker to Jazz once the visored mech sat up straighter and headed for their kitchen to get his family's rations ready.

After feeding the sparklings and playing with them for a while, the pair of black and white mechs bathed the twins and tucked them in, strolling back to their own room for some much needed recharge --Prowl noted Jazz was almost walking in recharge by the time they eased themselves on their berth.

"I was thinking," Prowl began softly, wrapping his arms around his bonded.

"Mm?" Jazz's visor flickered on and off sleepily.

"Do you think your creators would be adverse to looking after the twins for a couple of cycles?" A white hand began to massage a stubby black horn in soothing and relaxing motions.

"Why d'ya ask?" Jazz all but purred at the wonderful sensation that relaxed him and had him on the verge of recharge.

Prowl smiled, though this went unseen by Jazz, his visor already so dim. "I think my bonded could use a couple of cycles off parental duty and be spoiled rotten without having to worry about our little ones."

Jazz smiled dreamily, nuzzling his face against Prowl's shoulder to make himself more comfortable. "I'll call 'em first thing in the cycle."

"Good. Now rest." The chevroned mech hummed softly, pressing his forehead against the crest on Jazz's helm, allowing the vibration to lull his bonded into sleep.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (29/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Okay, another chapter of this thing. It's a bit of a filler but links to a bit more information about Jazz, and more domestic bliss. Next time we're doing a bunch of time warps, enjoy the fluff while it lasts! Mwaha~ Hope ya like snugsbunny!

Prowl came home to the sounds of excited chirps and warbles interspersed with a broken word here and there. The officer smiled to himself as he stepped into the living room to the sight of his bonded sitting on the floor, playing with their twins while trying to coax them to learn the names and words of different things.

The twins however, weren't in the mood to oblige their daddy, and they merely warbled at each other, repeating any of the words they had previously learned in cycles prior if they felt like it. Their first words had been all sorts of objects they held in high interest, particularly energon. Jazz had seemed a little disappointed the glowing substance was their children's first word, but Prowl expected it, finding it natural the twins would learn to demand their nourishment before learning to say things like 'daddy' or 'father'.

Jazz mentioned since he received his upgrades Prowl usually gave a logical and reasonable reason for 'About slagging everything' when asked a question. Prowl admitted his capacity to analyze situations had increased so much he always found sensible explanations for a great variety of things. Something he already did before the upgrades but that now became more prominent. There were few things Prowl couldn't honestly explain from origin to outcome, which had once prompted Jazz to ask his bonded if he had a logical explanation to why they were bonded. Prowl did have an answer for that, and wasn't anything like his visored mate had expected: "Because we love each other beyond any known methods to measure the intensity of that feeling. The logical step after that was to bond."

Jazz was more than satisfied and pleased with the answer, and just shortly after that, Sunstreaker uttered his next, indignant word while chasing after his twin who had absconded with his favorite toy: "Sides!"

Prowl's sudden chuckle picked everyone's attention, Jazz smiled up at his bonded while the twins squealed and scrambled to their feet excitedly, trotting to their father. "Farda!" The sparklings cried at unison, prompting a soft laugh from Jazz who always found incredibly amusing their children always greeted one or the other 'in stereo'.

"Hey," Prowl greeted the sparklings, grinning at his children bouncing on their legs, arms reaching up to him demanding to be picked. THe chevroned mech obliged the sparklings, carefully holding each twin with one arm. "They're getting heavy." He pointed as his sons warbled, chirped and clicked at him, throwing a broken word here and there.

"They are." Jazz nodded and stood up to greet his bondmate. "They'll be ready for their first upgrade soon."

"We have scheduled that already?" Prowl asked, greeting Jazz back before dividing his attention between his bonded, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, both sparklings warbling at him excitedly about only Primus knew what, all he could make out was they were probably talking about each other.

"Yep, everythin's cleared an' all. Appointment's in a couple of deca-cycles." Jazz began to pick up a few of the toys scattered around to clear the living room. "How was work today?"

"It was all right. Though I could do without our field relay screaming my audios off." Prowl set the sparklings down and helped Jazz to clear the living room, smiling as their little ones followed their example and began to pick things to dump them in their toy chest, not without leaving some fallen toys in their wake as they tried to carry a lot more than they could hold.

After cleaning and the twins began to chant demanding their energon and the subsequent refueling, both mechs sat in their favorite spot on the floor with the twins, Jazz joked the couches were going to collect dust from how unused they had been since the twins learned to walk. Jazz produced a couple of pads containing a collection of crude, simplistic drawings and a small kit with a digital palette with a selection of color samples and an area where the digital colors could be mixed. The visored mech set one down before Sunstreaker and another before Sideswipe, setting the palette between the sparklings, both excitedly pressed their little stubby fingers to random colors in the digital palette and brushed them all over the pads, filling the drawings with color smudges.

Prowl frowned a little, scrutinizing the coloring book files as the twins happily colored while Jazz explained the colors' names in hopes to get the sparklings to learn them and repeat them to incorporate them into their vocabulary. He watched the twins enjoying themselves for a while as he mulled over the coloring books, standard grade of learning tools for sparklings, however, the artwork displayed was of sub par quality in his opinion.

Most of the pieces were rather crude and albeit simplistic designs were to be expected, the quality was still something that was bothering him. After a while the chevroned mech stood and left the living room heading for his studio, Jazz watched him leave and come back with an old large sketch pad and other art supplies and sat down next to his mate, pulling his stylus out of subspace he began to draw several simplistic drawings, stylized, humorous deformed pieces depicting himself, Jazz or their sparklings, even Steeljaw was drawn. Jazz watched his bonded as he drew, grinning at the funny and simple drawings. "What're ya plottin', love?"

"You'll see." Prowl finished several drawings and carefully had each one automatically cut, arranging a collection of drawings he transferred to a data chip. He plugged a hub between the sparklings pads, Jazz interrupted the sparklings' work and allowed Prowl to remove the data chips of the pads, inserting his own into the hub and loaded the same drawing into both pads.

Jazz grinned and returned the pads to the sparklings, laughing when their optics went wide with recognition of the characters drawn with oversized heads and tiny bodies. "Dadda!" Sideswipe pointed at a smiling Jazz with a keytar-like instrument in his hands. "Farda!" Sunstreaker pointed at Prowl who sported similar proportions holding an energon cube in his hands. "Suns!" Sideswipe pointed at one of the two sparklings sitting together both holding a toy that looked somewhat similar to Jazz. "Nu, Siders!" Sunstreaker frowned and pointed to the same sparkling Sideswipe was pointing to. "Nu, Suns!"

"I think I should have drawn something to distinguish them, shouldn't I?" Prowl smiled meekly, prompting Jazz to laugh out loud and shake his head as he pointed at the sparklings. "Let's call this one Sideswipe an' this one Sunstreaker, okay?"

The sparklings nodded and ceased their argument although it didn't take long for both to forget which one they were told was them. Prowl and Jazz picked their sparklings hands and carefully guided them in coloring the pictures, both sparklings squealing and warbling happily as they colored the drawings of such familiar beings.

"This was a good idea," Jazz spoke absently with a fond smile, watching Prowl guide Sideswipe's little fingers into coloring the toy with Ricochet's colors, following his example and guiding Sunstreaker into coloring the toy in the same pattern.

"I thought they would like it if they were coloring something they're familiar with." Prowl released Sideswipe's hand, allowing the sparkling to show off his colored picture to his brother, both twins soon warbling and chatting among themselves, seemingly comparing each other's masterpieces.

After playing with the twins for a while, washing them and tucking them in their cribs, the black and white pair settled down in the living room, watching the feeds for a while before retiring for recharge.

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Prowl smiled as he prepared some energon goodies for his family, listening intently to Jazz's side of the conversation he was having with his carrier. Their children had successfully undergone their first upgrade without any complication, and Jazz promised to keep his creators informed. Prowl was glad the older mechs were so involved in the twins development and occasionally in their upbringing, Prowl having accepted readily to have their children be introduced to Polyhexian customs along with those of Praxus -- and he also appreciated the alone time he could spend with Jazz when the older mechs took care of the sparklings.

At the moment Jazz was happily talking with his creator, their chat had diverged from a rather detailed report of the twins' upgrade to, from what Prowl could gather, Jazz's carrier talking about his imminent return to the public eye. After mending things between them, Jazz revealed his musical knowledge and passion had been cultivated and nurtured by his spark carrier, who used to be a very famous musician, performing for private parties for members of the senate and members of the nobility. He retired from public light around the time he and his mate decided to try for a sparkling, roughly a two or three meta-cycles before Prowl's creation, maintaining his retirement after Ricochet's death to fully concentrate on the care and raising of Jazz.

Jazz's spark carrier had hoped his surviving child would follow his steps and become a musician himself, and for a while that was what Jazz wanted to do, but as he neared adulthood the visored mech's interest swayed from his love for music towards his desire to become an Enforcer, which had contributed greatly to the souring of their relationship and eventual fall out.

Now that his carrier intended to perform again, it seemed he wanted to enlist Jazz's help in composing duties, and the shorter black and white mech appeared delighted to accept his carrier's proposition. Prowl hoped Jazz would accept, knowing his bonded to have a great talent.

Not long after Jazz finally ended the transmission with his carrier he was excitedly sharing the news with his bonded while they refueled themselves and their sparklings. Prowl was happy for his mate and encouraged him to accept his carrier's proposal.

"I just hope my work will be up ta the standards he set up. His was really good music." Jazz shifted a little uneasily as he held out a small goodie made with the proper mix for sparklings, allowing Sunstreaker to take small bites between sips of his energon.

"I'm sure you'll do fine, you're very talented." Prowl reassured his mate, smiling at him while he took away the goodie Sideswipe seemed intent on swallowing whole, chiding the sparkling gently so he'd take small bites instead of trying to stuff his mouth with it.

"Ya know, this sounds a little familiar, although I remember the roles t'be reversed." Jazz grinned.

The chevroned mech's smile widened a little, remembering all too well what Jazz was talking about. "I have a proposition for you."

"A proposition?"

Prowl nodded and moved closer to his mate, whispering his proposal into his audio. Jazz's subsequent smile threatened to split his face in two. "It's a deal."

"It is a deal, then."

Sideswipe looked up at his parents then turned a confused look at his brother, Sunstreaker looked back at him over his special cup with a look that could only be interpreted as 'beats me' and continued drinking his energon, not bothering to try to understand the grown ups.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (30/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Moar time warping. This is one of the two key scenes in the whole damn thing. The final scene is partly the whole reason this thing came to be and that's totally to be blamed on snugsbunny. And remember I mentioned the twins were identical at birth? Yeah, we dealin' with that here.

Education centers were, in Jazz's opinion, a mixed blessing. The twins were clinging tight to himself and Prowl as they were carried to the local youth center for an introductory course before the twins were assigned to an education center and their respective class.

He and Prowl had been debating for the past few deca-cycles about whether or not they wanted their sparklings enrolled in the same class. There were pros and cons to both instances, the twins would have to socialize with other sparklings aside each other and separating them could prompt them to seek out other friends. However the forced separation could also be detrimental for their well being, as they were used to be together, to suddenly be thrust into separate classes full of strangers could force the twins to shy away and withdraw, distressing them unnecessarily.

Their medic and assistant psychologist recommended to keep them together for the time being, building up an eventual separation slowly, giving the sparklings time to feel comfortable interacting with other children so being placed in separated classes would not affect them.

The youth sectors had all manner of facilities for the care of the young Cybertronians, from orphaned sparklings waiting for a home to those that were being raised there permanently, to those that were only being cared for during their parents' work shifts. Through the bond they shared with their sparklings, Jazz could tell the twins were uneasy and uncomfortable, seeing the place full of sparklings of different ages as a place where they were to be dumped, rather than one where they could find new playmates and friends. This thought worried Jazz a little, and reaffirmed his conviction he took the right decision to have the twins attend a public education center, rather than be tutored at home as his carrier suggested.

As both parents took their designated seats in a small auditorium with their sparklings in their laps, a couple of mechs took to the podium and addressed the parents and children. As the presentation went on, the twins seemed more and more interested, asking questions about the images shown of the different education centers available in Iacon. By the end of the presentation, the two sparklings seemed excited at the prospect of attending one.

Prowl was pleased about the placement of the twins in an education center fairly close to their living unit, and after signing in all the required files the family left the facilities.

"Aren't ya both excited? Big first cycle at the education center coming soon. Gonna learn loads of stuff, make new friends," Jazz chatted happily as the four of them walked through the streets at a comfortable pace, both twins nodded and bounced excitedly.

They entered a store, allowing the sparklings to choose their own data pads to take to the education center, new supplies, and in celebration a trip to a long time favored cafe for some goodies and some sweet energon before going back home.

The first cycle at the education center Prowl and Jazz took Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to their respective class, meeting the instructor assigned to the class. The sparklings seemed a little shy at first, shocked by the amount of sparklings at different upgrade stages and ages. "No need to be so shy now, you'll have plenty of fun." Prowl and Jazz knelt to hug their children, gently pushing the little ones into accepting their instructor's hands to be led inside.

"Behave yourselves an' have fun, we'll see ya both after class." Jazz waved a little at the sparklings, smiling encouragingly at his twins until they disappeared inside the classroom. He sighed heavily already missing the two bundles of joy and energy that kept him so busy.

"They'll be fine," Prowl murmured and kissed his bonded's helm lovingly, feeling through their bond the longing in Jazz's spark for their children.

"I know, but I'm still gonna miss ta hear 'em trottin' around and keepin' me on my toes." Jazz couldn't help the slightly sad smile that adorned his face, but he knew it would be just a few joors and then he'd have his children back at home again. "Better get goin' now, lover, don't wanna be late fer work now."

"I'll be back earlier to come pick them up with you," Prowl promised and stole a quick peck from his mate before rushing out, transforming and heading towards the security forces headquarters. Jazz waved at his bonded as he left deciding to take the slow, long way back home. He didn't look forward to returning to an empty home, and although he knew he could easily use that time to work on his compositions, at the moment all he wanted was to pass the time until the moment he could get his sparklings back.

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"Daddy! Father!" Sideswipe burst out in a happy squeal as he ran out of the class room with his bother in tow, both sporting wide, happy smiles on their faces.

"Hey!" Jazz smiled, opening his arms wide for the sparklings and hugging them tightly once the twins were back in his arms. "How was the first class? Did ya two have fun?" Sunstreaker nodded, or at least tried, as Jazz hugged them so tight he had to squeak at Prowl for help.

"You're going to dent them, Jazz," Prowl chided playfully, rescuing Sunstreaker from his daddy's death grip. Jazz couldn't help a playful nudge back at his mate as he picked Sideswipe up. "Can't help it, I missed them."

"I know," Prowl murmured and secured Sunstreaker on his arm before taking Jazz's hand, squeezing it gently, turning then to his oldest. "So, what did you two do today? Tell us."

The sparklings relayed all they did that cycle, their introduction to their classmates, the games they had together and all the fun things they did with their instructor's supervision. It was with no little amusement that both parents watched the twins take turns to explain what they did during that cycle, sometimes completing each other's sentences. The sparklings wanted to show their parents their data pads to let them see all the things they did, but Prowl advised it was better to wait until they were back home as it was dangerous to be distracted so heavily in the streets.

Overall Jazz and Prowl were pleased with the way the sparklings' first experience at the education center went well and they seemed happy enough, seemingly adjusting fine to the new environment. Though, Prowl suspected the one who'd have the hardest time to adjust would be Jazz, going from a home bursting with activity to having the empty home all to himself for several joors.

Prowl suggested Jazz to go out and spend time with Tracks and Steeljaw if he wanted or to invite them over since Steeljaw, as a symbiote primitive was tutored at home as he required a different kind of education.

Once they were back at home, the twins showed their data pads and their respective homework, and after some refueling, the black and white pair sat down with their sparklings to do their homework. Jazz enjoyed the moments when they were all together like this, reminding him so much of the happiest moments of his own life with his own creators, and glad his bonded could also share the happy memories of times when his strict but loving sire sat with him to teach him and help him with his own homework. They were all happy, and Jazz thanked the powers that be every cycle for the wonderful family and fulfilling life he led.

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As the twins grew older, neither Prowl nor Jazz needed to pick the sparklings anymore, a dedicated transport from the education center took sparklings back at their homes, with an instructor delivering each little one to their homes. Jazz opened the door of their living unit to be met with the sight of two really grumpy looking sparklings, and Sunstreaker sported several small scratches and marks on his face.

"What happened to the two of ya?" Jazz asked with evident concern, shooting a glance to the instructor.

"They got in a small argument with another student. Rest assured the student has been sanctioned accordingly. You may inquire further about the issue at the center."

"Will do, thanks." Jazz gathered the sparklings in his arms, uncaring of how much heavier the twins were by now to be handled in one arm each. The instructor waved goodbye and retired, closing the door behind him. "What happened?" Jazz took the sparklings to the living room, subspacing a small first aid kit and began to inspect the sparklings.

"Sun got into a fight for me," Sideswipe replied meekly and softly.

"A fight?" The visored mech turned to Sunstreaker and flinched when the golden sparkling turned his face away, scowling. "Sunstreaker, what happened?"

"Nothing." The golden sparkling refused to turn to face his daddy, but Jazz could feel in his spark the heavy distress his child was feeling, he knew Sunstreaker was on the verge of tears.

The sound of the doors opening and closing stopped any attempts to coax an answer out of Sunstreaker for the time being, and Jazz turned to the small corridor where Prowl appeared soon. Prowl always returned home a breem or two before or after the twins and Jazz was infinitely grateful for that at the moment. "What's wrong?" Prowl asked after a moment, feeling Jazz's apprehension through their bond and seeing the state his sons were in.

"It seems there was a fight at school. Sunstreaker won't tell me what happened, an' Sideswipe just said his brother got into that fight for him." Jazz cast a worried glance at his bonded, knowing Prowl would get it despite the visor covering his optics.

The chevroned mech was at his mate's side in a moment, gently reaching to grasp his son's chin with his fingers to face him. "Sunshine," he spoke softly the nickname Jazz had for the golden sparkling. The gentle tones mixed with the affectionate name were all it took to break the dam, and big tears rolled from the sparkling's optics. "Please, tell us what happened," Jazz coaxed gently, taking hold of Sideswipe's hand so the sparkling wouldn't feel left out, the red twin's optics glistering with fluid.

Through their tears, both twins finally admitted what had happened. An older student saw fit to mock them because they were identical, calling Sideswipe names and declaring him not a real sparkling because he had detached after Sunstreaker, thus being his clone and spare body. The hurt the words caused in Sideswipe angered his twin brother who lunged at the much bigger, much stronger sparkling to defend his brother but that only earned him the scuff marks that now adorned the once pristine plating.

Then came the spark shattering plea. Sunstreaker cried, begging his parents to make him different so he and his brother would no longer be made fun of for being identical. Jazz took his sparklings' hurt to spark, and blamed himself for the unhappiness they felt, feeling once again guilt for the keeping of his secret.

Prowl swallowed the hurt of his whole family, shouldering the storm of raw emotions that battered against his spark. The anger, the frustration, the hurt, the guilt, the sadness. He struggled to remain a pillar against the tidal waves of despair that was threatening to swallow them whole. He detached himself for a moment, trying to separate what he felt from what he should do. He held his mate and children close murmuring words of comfort. He didn't want Jazz to blame himself for anything, and reminded him that the good moments they shared with their sparklings far outweighed the bad. With Jazz regaining his own equilibrium, calming the twins had been much easier, the comfort, understanding and unconditional love for both of them projected through their link put the little ones at ease.

Later on that cycle after Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had been lullabied to sleep, Prowl and Jazz discussed Sunstreaker's petition seriously. "We shouldn't allow a change in their frames this young," Prowl spoke softly. "They could regret it eventually."

"But if we outright deny them, it may make them want it even more." Jazz sipped a little of his mild high grade, wondering if had his twin lived, they would have gone through a similar situation.

"No, we shouldn't say they cannot have their frames modified," the chevroned mech conceded. "However, we can set a limit, make it a goal perhaps. If they graduate from the elementary education center with good grades, and if they still want to have their frames modified by then, we'll allow it."

"Ain't that bribin' them into getting' good grades?" Prowl knew Jazz was quirking an optic ridge behind his visor.

"Only if they really want to have their frames modified." Prowl smiled a little, intertwining his fingers with Jazz's. "And I prefer to call it a reward. A positive reinforcement."

Jazz couldn't help the subsequent snort but smiled his approval of the suggestion. They would present their proposition to their twins when the time was appropriate after a little follow up on the fighting with the older student.

-----------------------

Sunstreaker looked up from the mess in his hands to his daddy who was happily guiding him and his brother in the process of making energon goodies. Unlike Sideswipe who found quite a lot of pleasure in the whole process, Sunstreaker found himself mightly bored.

Jazz chuckled softly and flickered at his nose playfully. "Ya don't have ta do this if ya don't want, Sunshine."

Sunstreaker smiled meekly at his daddy, a little embarrassed he had been caught. "Go take a look at what yer father's doin', Swipe's gonna keep me busy here for a while."

"This is fun!" Sideswipe smiled happily as he mixed ingredients with his little hands, and Jazz knew he would need a good, long and thorough wash afterwards, yet, he was happy Sideswipe wanted to learn, hoping Prowl had something else as means to entertain the golden twin.

Sunstreaker washed his hands in the small basin filled with cleanser near the sink and hopped down his seat, moving around the large couch to see what his father was doing. Prowl was leaning on the couch with a large data pad in hand and his stylus moving around with relaxed strokes, a content smile spread on his lip components. Sunstreaker tried to peek, moving around the couch to the arm his father was partially resting against and his optics widened at what he saw.

"Is that me?" He asked as he pointed at the sketch Prowl was rendering. He had sketched the scene of his bonded with the sparklings working on their goodies over the counter top.

"Yes, that's you." Prowl smiled and sat a little better on the couch, helping Sunstreaker up and turned the pad so his son could see it better. "That's Side?" Sunstreaker pointed a black finger to who he assumed to be his brother in the drawing. "Yes, and there's your dad."

Sunstreaker made a soft sound of wonder as he stared at the complex but enticing drawing his father sketched. "Pretty!" Prowl laughed softly, stroking his son's helm affectionately. "Thank you."

"I keep tellin' ya you've got so much talent!" Jazz piped in from behind the counter, grinning at his bonded as he kept an optic on Sideswipe and his mess. Prowl merely shook his head, sending a wave of love and affection towards his bonded that was quickly reciprocated by the visored mech. He turned to look at his oldest son and saved his sketch, then saved a duplicate and summoned the color palette, offering the stylus to Sunstreaker. "Want to color it?"

"May I?" Sunstreaker took hold of the stylus which was remarkably too big for his little hand. Prowl nodded. "You may."

Sunstreaker smiled brightly and held the stylus as firmly as he could and selected a color, deciding to start with his twin's red plates. he pressed and dragged the stylus over the pad as well as he could to apply color but found it hard to control the pressure sensitive tool, which often left blotches of color out of the sketch's line. He kept trying though, but all his attempts ended up with quite a bit of color out of the line, until finally, frustrated and upset he had ruined his father's sketch, he handed the stylus back to Prowl with a large pout.

"I'm ruining it," He said and crossed his little arms, looking away as he always did when he was upset. Sideswipe looked up from his happy cooking with a look of concern, feeling his twin's distress and the immediate urge to go and comfort him.

"You're not, the tools are just too big for you, and it's just a duplicate," Prowl reached a hand to turn his sparkling's head to face him. Jazz stopped what he was doing and looked at father and son, reaching to stop Sideswipe as the red twin was ready to jump down his chair to go to his brother. Sideswipe looked up at his daddy with confusion written all over his face plates, but Jazz shook his head with a reassuring smile, they both turned to look at Prowl and Sunstreaker.

Prowl stroked his son's cheek gently with a smile. "Let's try something different." He set the stylus aside and brought Sunstreaker's finger to the color palette, pressing his own much bigger fingertip to the eraser tool to carefully clean away the smudges, retouching with the stylus the damaged outline. "Now, choose the color and just press your finger to the area you want to color."

Sunstreaker did as he was told and carefully pressed his finger to Jazz's helm in the picture, being extra careful as he smeared the black over it, only little amounts of paint went over the outline this time, and although he preferred if they didn't, it looked much better. He looked up at his father with a bright smile in expectation. "That's very good." Prowl praised the sparkling and allowed him to continue coloring the drawing happily. He looked over his shoulder at Jazz who was smiling at him, nodding with satisfaction before turning his attention back to Sideswipe and the goodies they were cooking.

These kind of moments became a common occurrence, with Jazz teaching Sideswipe to make goodies and Prowl sitting down with Sunstreaker teaching him to draw. And sometimes the four of them would share the same activity, with the four of them in the kitchen making goodies --and in the twins case trying to get each other dirtier than themselves or their parents; and sometimes the four of them sitting together, coloring illustrations Prowl would draw for all of them to partake in.

Life couldn't be any better.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (31/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: They grow so fast! Yes, that means more time warping, we're approaching a critical part of this fic now. Hope you like snugsbunny!

Prowl considered for the hundredth time that cycle that perhaps he should invest in sound proofing the twins bedroom before they'd drive him insane, only to remind himself that they were Jazz's offspring too and it was almost an inherited trait to like music, especially as loud as they were playing it.

It wasn't that he minded the music too much, even if he wasn't too fan of the trendy music they favored, at least their taste wasn't outrageous and he could easily stand it just fine, even enjoy it at times when the volume was moderated. Now though, the volume was loud enough to make the paint in the small cans on his table ripple with the vibrations, it was that loud. It was at times like these when he felt he was getting old, only to chide himself and remind himself he was far from old by their species's standards. Of course if one counted the really old mechs in the senate Prowl was almost a sparkling. That didn't stop him from wishing the twins would turn the slagging volume down a little.

"They're drivin' ya up the wall, ain't it?" Jazz murmured with amusement as he wrapped his arms around his bonded's shoulders, giving him a quick peck against an audio sensor.

"I'm just thinking about relocating my studio to a room that's not next to theirs." Prowl sighed, as much as their younglings' darned noise could annoy him, he loved them and knew they were good children and he loved them that way.

Jazz laughed softly and patted the mech's shoulder, taking a peek at the picture Prowl was painting. Blaster and Tracks had asked Jazz if they could refer them to the artist who painted the piece gifted to them during their legal union's party, desiring to commission a painting of themselves with their now grown Steeljaw to celebrate the anniversary of their own bonding. Jazz promised to ask the artist about it, knowing Prowl did not want his artistic side to be revealed even to their close friends. Prowl had been apprehensive about accepting a commission from them --he would gladly paint the requested piece but he didn't want to accept the payment, for starters because he was completely at loss about the whole pricing issue.

Jazz warned Prowl if they didn't accept the payment, Blaster could get suspicious and connect the dots. The chevroned mech didn't want to refuse their friends either. The simple solution had come from Sideswipe's mouth who suggested matter-of-fact to have the payment donated to a charity of Prowl's choice if he really didn't want to accept the payment, and to request his grandparents' help about the pricing since they owned a few pieces of fine art themselves.

Prowl accepted that arrangement and Blaster gladly transferred the due amount to the account of the charity Prowl selected. Now, the chevroned mech was nearing the completion of his piece, which would have been a little faster if his children were not trying to sabotage him by demolishing the studio with the loud music.

"I think you've done enough fer now, ya better take a break." Jazz laughed softly at his mate's scowl but he reached to take the paint brush away and dropped it in the container with solvent, quirking an optic ridge behind his visor as he realized for the first time that the sound was, indeed, creating ripples on the fluid. "Primus!"

"I told you," Prowl said dryly and covered the cans of paint before just the sight of the Primus damned ripples would drive him into a spasm of twitching facial plates and quivering wings.

"Gonna have ta give 'em an audioful later." Jazz shook his head and turned to look at his mate, giving Prowl that sultry smile that meant he had plans for his bonded. "For now..." Jazz would have whispered if it wasn't because he needed to raise his voice to be heard over the muffled noise. "I would very much like to direct you to my studio."

"Why?" Prowl quirked an optic ridge.

"One, because it's the one soundproofed room in the unit." Jazz began as he trailed a black finger along Prowl's chevron. "And two, because that paintin' has been eatin' all yer free time the past few cycles. I do believe I deserve some of that attention now."

"Really?" Prowl couldn't fight back the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know, the twins are wide online, Jazz."

Jazz jabbed his mate playfully and took hold of a wing, being careful with the sensitive appendage as he tugged at Prowl to lead him out of the room. "That's what heavily encrypted access codes are for, Prowl, beloved."

Prowl laughed and allowed Jazz to all but drag him by a wing to his studio, very much intending to make quite a bit of noise of their own. His devious side was tempted to 'share' their own performance with the twins as revenge for the damnable noise, but he decided they were still too young to be traumatized.

The twins had entered their youngling stage and were currently attending the advanced education center. They had graduated with satisfactory enough grades and as promised by their parents, they would allow them to modify their frames to their liking. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had decided to hold it off until the could decide the modifications they wanted. Finally, only a few cycles ago they settled on the modifications they wished to pursue and at the end of the deca-cycle the modifications would be performed, which was a good time since their next upgrade was due by that time, and in their next upgrade they'd acquire their first alternate mode.

----------------------

Jazz had admittedly been a little apprehensive at first when the twins decided to change their frames. An irony considering he, more than anyone, wanted both of them to be treated as individuals before twins; but his apprehension came from hoping the change in appearances wouldn't mean a rejection of the link they shared as twin brothers.

When Sunstreaker and Sideswipe emerged from the room where the modifications took place, the differences were striking, although Sideswipe kept the same helm they developed in their polymer form, the rest of his body was definitely different. Sunstreaker didn't even keep the helmet, a black helm with golden fins on each side now crowned his head.

They seemed so completely different from each other now, and yet there was something remarkably beautiful and spark warming in their choice of designs. They were complemental to each other, where an eventual cockpit granted by an alternate mode would form the chest plates of one, it would form the back of the other. Like two sides of the same coin. They chose to be different, yes, but different in a way that meant Sunstreaker was what Sideswipe was not. That what one lacked the other provided in abundance for both of them. Like Jazz and Prowl.

Although it would take a little time to get used to their new appearances, Jazz was happy to see the glow in his children's optics as they looked at each other, a silent agreement between them that declared both knew to be each other's twin brother, and that never would change regardless of appearances. There was unconditional love between them, and Jazz was proud of the younglings he and his mate created and raised.

As time went by, the twins began to take separate classes, having only two common classes which allowed them to spend time to themselves and become more social. Sideswipe was a popular mechlet, friendly and with a very youthful charm that others seemed drawn to.

Sunstreaker wasn't as social as Sideswipe and enjoyed to spend more time drawing during his free time than socializing, which indirectly brought attention to him. There were times when Sunstreaker could just sit down to have his energon, pull out his pad and suddenly he'd be surrounded by loads of curious younglings watching him render some artwork. It made him feel good and appreciated and even if he didn't speak or socialize as much, he was happy his artwork did the speaking for him.

With the twins tending to their education, Jazz decided it was time to try to pick back on his career as an enforcer, although he knew it would take sometime before he was allowed back into the field, if ever, due to all the vorns he spent in retirement. Still, his children were growing and they would get their first alternate mode soon, and as much as his career as composer fulfilled him, he looked forward to the chance of working alongside with Prowl again.

"I can't believe I gotta go through all these tests!" Jazz cast a weary glance at the veritable pile of data pads containing study guides for different subjects.

"It's been a while since you left the force, Jazz, there's been quite a lot of changes and they have to test your knowledge on the new rules and regulations, changes in the legislation, procedures--"

"Okay, okay, I got it!" Jazz cut off his mate with a huff. "Let's try this again." Prowl nodded and began to read up the material for Jazz to take notes and study before filling a questionnaire which Prowl would grade.

It had become a routine they had with the twins when they had exams and tests coming soon, and since it proved effective with their children, Jazz asked his mate to apply the method to him.

The effort proved worthy and not long afterwards Jazz was admitted back into the force, although not allowed in the field until he could complete an extensive training to get him back in shape. Though, Jazz surprised many of his instructors with the good condition he was in for such a long retirement, the visored mech joked caring for his twins kept him in good condition.

Sometime later, Jazz was allowed in the field for relatively relaxed patrol duty, just in time for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to acquire their first alternate modes and long lessons to come for the proper use of their newfound ability, and drill into their processors the proper regulations.

----------------------

Sunstreaker looked through the application he held in his hand, scowling deeply as he read each section he was supposed to fill but couldn't bring himself to. His brother, Sideswipe was filling an application of his own. They were out to enroll themselves in the last education level. Sideswipe had chosen to attend an institute specialized in administration and business practices. While he had opted, at first, to become an Enforcer like his parents.

Now, though, he was having second thoughts. It wasn't a recent thing either, both he and his brother had announced the careers they wished to pursue, and they were both content with the expressions of pride in their parents faces with their announcement. Although Sideswipe had been a little afraid they wouldn't approve of his choice to become a businessmech instead of an enforcer like them, his worries were dispelled by the looks of approval of his parents.

But over time, Sunstreaker's interest in becoming an enforcer faded and instead he seemed more and more interested in pursuing an artistic career, aiming to become a well known artist in Cybertron. The only problem was to break the news to his parents. He knew Jazz would accept whatever path in life he choose, but he admitted to be afraid of what Prowl would think, fearing his father to be disappointed with his choice and perhaps even offended. After all, there had to be a reason his father never pursued a career as an artist himself, as he considered his sketches to be wonderful. What if Prowl didn't see art as viable, respectable means to make an honest living? And worse, Prowl was definitely proud of being an enforcer, his declaration to want to become one just to throw it away and become an artist could very well offend his father. It happened with his dad and his carrier after all, and Sunstreaker didn't think himself strong enough to live through what Jazz lived to pursue his dream.

Sideswipe felt a tug in his spark and he knew right away something bothered his twin. "You okay, Sun?" He asked and looked over his shoulder to his brother.

"No." Sunstreaker's reply was a low, soft whimper. He turned to face his younger brother, uncertainty and fear all openly displayed for his twin's optics.

"What is it?" Sideswipe set his application down, and moved from his berth to his brother's, wrapping an arm around him. Sunstreaker looked away at first, but reminded himself this was his twin brother, the one he shared a spark with. The closest being in the universe to him, even above their parents. Finally, he opened up to his twin and shared his concerns and uncertainty.

Sideswipe listened to his brother, sending waves of comfort and reassurance through their bond as he did, until finally he offered the only suggestion he could come up with. "Talk with dad. He'll know what to do."

Sunstreaker accepted his brother's suggestion and hugged his twin, murmuring a thank you for his support as he strode from the room, looking for Jazz. He knew Prowl would be back late that cycle since he was attending a conference, which left him quite some time to talk with his dad about his concerns.

"Dad?"

Jazz looked away from his pad, comfortably sprawled on the couch, waiting for his mate. He sat up immediately, noticing the look of fear in his child's optics. "Yes, Sunshine? What's wrong?"

"I need to talk with you." Sunstreaker took a seat next to Jazz and began to explain his situation, casting side glances at Jazz to try to gauge his reaction as he confessed his desire to pursue a career as an artist.

"Well, ya still got plenty of time ta request an application from the institute ya wanna attend." Jazz squeezed his son's shoulder gently. "But that ain't what's eatin' at ya, is it?"

Sunstreaker shook his head. "I'm afraid of what father will think of this. I'm scared he'll be disappointed about my choice, or worse, to disapprove it and wouldn't allow me to apply for the institute."

Jazz frowned behind his visor, seeing already where this was going. "It's yer choice, Sunshine, not his."

"But if he doesn't approve..."

"If he doesn't approve I'll pay for it myself, Sun. If this is what you want, this is what you must do, Sunshine."

Sunstreaker's shoulder slumped visibly. "I don't want to cause trouble between you two."

Jazz reached to lift his son's face so he was facing him with a smile. "Ya think ya father an' I have never had arguments before? It wouldn't be the first an' certainly not the last, Sunstreaker." He kissed his son's forehead comfortingly. "Besides, I don't think yer givin' yer father enough credit."

"But he looked so proud and pleased when I said I wanted to be an Enforcer like both of you." He looked away before turning a meek, fearful glance back to his dad. "There's gotta be a reason why father never pursued a career as an artist, what if he thinks of it as just a hobby and not something I can live from?"

"That's because yer father has a hard head an' refuses to believe his artwork is that good. Or he's just too modest." Jazz sighed heavily and patted his son's shoulder. "Or simply because in the same way you desire to be an artist, what your father really wanted was to be an enforcer."

"If that's the case, if he looks down on his own artwork, why wouldn't he look down on mine and my choice?" Sunstreaker frowned again, trying to make sense of his father's choices and realizing Prowl to be as complex as Jazz.

"Who taught ya to draw?"

"But that was a just as a hobby!"

Jazz sighed heavily and stood, taking Sunstreaker's hand and tugging it. "Come, gotta show ya somethin'."

Sunstreaker followed his dad out of their living unit with no little confusion, wondering what the other mech was up to and where was he taking him so late already.

They stopped and transformed outside of the museum. "Why are we here?" Sunstreaker asked as Jazz paid their fee and dragged him around the halls. "I said I had to show ya somethin'." Jazz looked around trying to find where the piece he was looking for was currently being exhibited. "Ah! There it is!" He quickened his pace, dragging his son with him. "That piece, can you recognize 'em?"

Sunstreaker frowned for a moment but soon a gasp escaped his vocalizer as he recognized the mechs in the painting. The light and shadows were purposefully arranged in a way that hid the adult mech's features for the most part, but Sunstreaker could easily recognize Jazz laying on a berth deeply in recharge with his arm wrapped around two tiny sparklings cuddled against him. Sparklings that he could clearly see were himself and his twin brother.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jazz murmured as he admired the painting with a fond smile on his face. "Guess who painted it."

"Father?" Sunstreaker was speechless, although he had seen one or two small portraits in color rendered by his father, most of what Prowl allowed them to see were sketches, some more elaborated than others, but never the full extent of his ability.

Jazz nodded. "He painted this when he thought it could very well be the last piece of artwork he'd do."

"It's amazing."

"This paintin' is usually in display in the museum in Praxus. He donated it after I had my first hit as composer. It's a promise he made to me." Jazz smiled a little squeezing Sunstreaker's shoulder gently. "Do ya still think Prowl doesn't think about artwork as a serious profession?"

"You think he'd let me become an artist?"

"If that is what will make ya happy, Sunshine, he'll be happy." Jazz tugged his son's hand and began to lead them outside to return back home.

Prowl was already back by the time they returned, and Jazz encouraged Sunstreaker to talk with his father. The golden twin did so, speaking openly though with no little fear and hesitation about his wish to become a professional artist.

Prowl said nothing for a while, and his expression was unreadable, for a moment even Jazz feared Prowl would react negatively to Sunstreaker's choice, and Sideswipe was already in the room, ready to support his twin through whatever tides threatened to crash his dreams.

"Sunstreaker," Prowl's voice forced a flinch out of everyone in the living room, and the golden twin looked up at his father. Prowl's lips curved into a smile as he brought his son to his arms. "If that's what you really want to do and you're convinced in your spark that is your dream, then you better request an application form first thing in the cycle."

"R-Really?" Sunstreaker gasped, not quite believing his audio receptors. "You're not disappointed or upset?"

"Why should I?" Prowl stroked Sunstreaker's helm, watching Sideswipe raise his arms in victory and Jazz nodding, pleased. "I'd only be upset or disappointed if you did something you're not fully convinced of just to please someone else. I'm proud of you and your brother as long as you're happy with your decisions."

Sunstreaker hugged his father tightly looking over his shoulder to smile at his dad, who smiled back. A red blur crashed against him and Prowl, toppling them over. Jazz laughed at Sideswipe's enthusiasm, Sunstreaker's complaints he was being twisted uncomfortably and Prowl's long-suffering sigh, buried underneath their children.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (32/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Angst. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Gotta love College life. Not. These chapters are getting longer and longer. Hope you like snugsbunny!

The cycle the twins left their home to pursue higher education had been full of a mixture of sadness, worry and nostalgia laced with no little amount of pride and satisfaction. It was going to be the very first time Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were apart from each other on a semi permanent basis, Sunstreaker attending the institute in Praxus while Sideswipe would be studying in Altihex.

Both parents were worried of what the distance and solitude could do to their sons, but they were confident both of them would pull through after the initial period of settlement. Regular video chats between the sons and parents kept them informed about the way things were evolving. As Prowl had expected, Sideswipe settled in pretty quickly, but Sunstreaker was having a harder time sharing his space with a perfect stranger. The golden twin promised he'd try his hardest to adjust and by the time the classes started, everything seemed to go well.

At home, Prowl and Jazz found themselves missing the distinctive presence of their children. Sometimes they spent a breem or two just looking into the now empty room that once housed their twins. Many things remained, as they couldn't bring along too many effects to their dorms, but missing belongings here and there were enough reminders that their sparklings were not so anymore, and although they would return during their vacation period, it wouldn't be long before Sideswipe and Sunstreaker moved out permanently.

"I miss 'em so much already." Jazz sighed heavily, stroking tenderly a black finger along a figurine Sideswipe adored, something he refused to take to the institute with him for fear he'd have a room mate that would be abusive to his belongings.

"I do, as well." Prowl surveyed the room like he had done so many times already. It felt so odd to know his sons soon would be moving on with their lives, after being part of his and Jazz's for so long, it felt almost too sudden, even if both knew the moment their sparklings were conceived that any sparklings they had would not be with them forever.

Now they were alone again, they had to move on themselves and begin to adjust for the time when they'd be just themselves in the living unit permanently. He knew they'd make it all right, but it would take some time. "Come, it's late and we have duty early." Jazz nodded and fixed the position of Sideswipe's figurine before following his mate to their own room.

---------------------

Eventually they gained a new sense of freedom, rekindling their love in many new and creative ways in all senses. They shared those glorious baths together again for long joors without having to worry about the twins. They picked back in their goodie making, and indulged in time just for themselves and their other passions. The regular chats with their children crowned the cycles, and overall life was good.

That was until Jazz caught a virus that had him berth ridden and Prowl had to play nurse to a Jazz that was very grumpy when he was sick. The soft beeping sound coming from the living room had him leaving the dorm quietly, turning the video screen as a little smile curved his lips at the image of his youngest in the display. "Hello, Sideswipe."

"Hi father, how are you doing?"

"I'm all right. How are you?"

"Doing okay. Just got out of class. How's dad? Is he any better?"

"He's still sick but he's recovering. He's finally recharging."

"Bet he's been a handful, huh?"

"A big and petulant sparkling is what he is when he's sick."

Sideswipe laughed but covered his mouth to muffle his laughter, not wishing to rouse his carrier from the recharge he knew he needed. "So, know anything about Sun?"

Prowl's optics flickered on and off in confusion, having expected Sideswipe to be more up to date about his twin than himself. "Haven't you talked with him recently?"

Sideswipe shook his head, his smile fading into a look of worry and perhaps some level of rejection. "We haven't been able to talk in about two Deca-cycles, he's been doing some field trips and other things. Last time we talked he didn't sound too happy and asked me not to call so late."

Prowl vented a heavy sigh, imagining already Sideswipe was feeling rejected and was concerned about his brother. "Things have not gone well with Sunstreaker, it seems he's been picking arguments and fights with his roommate. Up until two cycles ago I was forced to request for him to be placed in a dorm just for himself."

"That doesn't sound good." Sideswipe winced. If his own institute was anything to go by, having Sunstreaker in a private dorm wouldn't only be a tedious process which would earn him quite a few glares from administrative personal at the institute, but also implied a bigger expense.

"The principal wasn't happy, no." Prowl sighed heavily again. The expenses did not worry him, but he wasn't fully convinced the move wasn't going to cause even more trouble for Sunstreaker, although he hoped at least it would give him a personal place for him to have a reprieve from the rest of the world.

"Bet you're glad I have an scholarship, huh?" Sideswipe tried to lighten the mood, though he himself wasn't feeling too cheery anymore.

"I'm happier that you're not causing trouble." Prowl smirked at Sideswipe's mock offended gasp. "Me? Are you implying I'm a troublemaker?! --Don't answer that."

Father and son laughed softly at that, though Prowl admitted it was an irony, and not exactly a fun one. Sideswipe had always been a good enough student, but he had a flair for being a little problematic. He was as free spirited as his dad and sometimes that meant he'd push the rules as far as he could to get away with what he wanted. Sunstreaker instead was the quiet, calm and obedient son. He would defend his twin and get him out of trouble, but he would rarely get in trouble himself.

Now the roles had reversed, Sideswipe, although still that free spirited mechlet, wasn't being problematic at all, scoring good grades, earning a scholarship and having no problems at the institute that required Prowl's and Jazz's attention. Meanwhile Sunstreaker had become troublesome, withdrawn, closed off, and was having a hard time coping with life at the art institute.

Prowl had been harboring concerns about whether or not he did the right thing in allowing Sunstreaker to attend the art institute in Praxus. He thought perhaps he should have pushed his son into attending the smaller Art education center in Iacon, allowing him commute from their living unit to the education center and perhaps giving him a familiar ground to even out the distance between him and his twin. Prowl was afraid away from home in addition to being away from his twin and the somewhat harsh environment of the institute were affecting Sunstreaker negatively.

But as Sunstreaker insisted he wanted to go to Praxus, there was nothing Prowl or his bonded could do for their son other than support him and shouldering through the storm. Jazz admitted he both dreaded and looked forward to their first vacation period, wanting to smother Sunstreaker in cares and affection he knew him to lack at Praxus. Prowl was afraid of the state their son would be returned to them.

"Well, I have exams to study for. Say hi to dad for me. Take care father, I'll call again during the deca-cycle." Sideswipe smiled half heartedly. "If Sun calls tell him I love him, please."

Prowl smiled a little sadly, nodding to his son. "I will on both accounts. Good luck with the exams." The screen went dark as the transmission ended and the chevroned mech's shoulders sagged a little.

"Was that Sideswipe?" Jazz's raspy and soft voice had Prowl looking up at him with a frown.

"You shouldn't be up." He chided his mate gently, moving towards him to herd him back to their berth. Jazz didn't argue back, he really didn't have the energy to. The trimming for him to catch a virus had been terrible, the stress of the problems with Sunstreaker only weakened his systems, making it harder for him to combat the virus despite his bondmate's cares. "How is he doin'?" Jazz asked softly as he allowed Prowl to set him down on the berth, draping a heat dispersing blanket over him.

"He's doing fine. He said hi, by the way." Prowl kissed the crest of Jazz's helm tenderly, stroking his bonded's cheek. "At least he's okay. Has he talked to Sunstreaker?" Jazz asked.

"We'll talk about that later, you need rest."

"Please, Prowl. I need ta know."

Prowl sighed in defeat. "No, they have not talked for a while. Sideswipe didn't know Sunstreaker is in a private dorm now."

Jazz said nothing for a while before finally turning to face his mate. "Will it be too long before their vacation period?"

"Six more Deca-cycles, give or take." Prowl took his bondmate's hand, nuzzling the back of it against his cheek. "We'll do all we can for him Jazz. But for now, you must concentrate on your recovery." Jazz nodded and watched his mate pull out the chemicals and antivirals he was supposed to take. He hated them with a passion but for now he accepted them as graciously as he could, wanting nothing more than to recover to be at optimal condition to tend to his twins when they returned.

-----------------------

It was with no little nervousness that Prowl and Jazz looked over at the door of their living unit constantly, awaiting for Sunstreaker's return from Praxus to spend his vacation period with his family. Sideswipe had arriver earlier during the cycle and was already re-installing himself at his old room he had shared with his brother for most of his life.

The sound of the door opening and closing had both black and whites leaping from their seats on their couch to meet their oldest son. Jazz couldn't hold himself back and proceeded to tackle his son, wrapping him in a tight hug. Prowl watched Sunstreaker stagger back to keep his balance, his faceplates that up until that moment had been set into a deep scowl dissolved into a look of true happiness, and Prowl hoped he could take that as a sign that his son would be all right overtime.

He and Jazz had discussed the subject of trying to persuade Sunstreaker into transferring to the education center in Iacon if Sunstreaker admitted to being unhappy at Praxus. But that was a subject they'd deal with later, their twins were back at home and that was all that mattered at the moment.

Jazz wasted no time and dragged Sunstreaker to the couch and began to pretty much interrogate his son about whatever came to his mind, Sunstreaker gladly answering to whatever he could from the barrage of questions, clearly relieved to be in the loving environment. Prowl called Sideswipe to inform him his twin was back home, and soon enough the red mechlet was in the living room, smiling and running to hug his twin.

It was that moment that broke the wonderful reunion, Sunstreaker tensed and was cold and curt towards his brother, which spoke of an unexpected animosity. Prowl and Jazz both noticed this, but decided not to intervene just yet and tried to carry on normally. It wasn't until both twins retired to their room to recharge that Sideswipe worked up the courage to talk to his brother.

"Sun?" He asked tentatively, watching his brother giving his back to him as he arranged what personal effects he took back from his dorm. There was no answer for a while, and the red twin realized his brother was purposefully ignoring him. He couldn't recall a moment in his life when he'd feel as hurt as he felt at that moment upon such realization. "Sunstreaker, I know you hear me. Please talk to me."

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker deigned to cast a glare over his shoulder at his twin.

"Why are you ignoring me? What have I done to upset you?" Sunstreaker looked away again, refusing to answer. "Come on, Sunstreaker, what's the deal with you?" Sideswipe clamped his hands into tight fists, growing more and more frustrated by his brother's attitude.

"You want to know? Fine!" Sunstreaker turned around, stalking to his brother and jabbing a finger to his twin's red chest plates. "Do you have any slagging idea what is like to be an outcast, Sideswipe? No, of course you do not! You're the 'bot everyone likes, no matter what stupidity comes out of that vocal processor of yours, you always get all the approval. You're the popular mech at the institute, aren't you? Oh yes, and you earned a scholarship too while I am sucking more currency out of our parents because I am so troublesome I have to have my own dorm!"

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, glowing near white with fury. "My problem, Sideswipe? You are my problem, you are so slagging perfect, you don't even need me around. Oh no! Meanwhile my spark was dying because of the distance. I couldn't feel our parents nor my twin brother, but that's fine, Sideswipe doesn't need his brother! You left me behind! That is my slagging problem!"

Sideswipe stared at his brother, optics wide and mouth agape in confusion for a while. As he digested the words and accusations, the look of surprise and confusion turned to one of indignation and anger. "Excuse me?" He barked back at his brother, jabbing his own finger now against his brother's chest. "I wasn't aware I was abandoning you simply because I left to, you know, get a profession? It's not like you didn't do the same thing. Or were you expecting me to drop everything just so you wouldn't feel lonely? Father and dad told you that you could study here, stay with them. Don't blame me for the consequences of your choices!"

Sunstreaker snarled and looked away but didn't back off. "It's so easy for you to speak, you have it everything! You've got the good scores, friends, our parents are so proud of you, while I'm --oof!" Sunstreaker stumbled back, looking up with bewilderment at his brother as he touched his now dented cheek plating.

"You're a slagging idiot." Sideswipe muttered, rubbing his free hand over his closed fist to ease the pain of the forceful contact. "It's this all about you, the poor Sunstreaker that for once is not the good student, well behaved and talented mechlet?" Sideswipe looked up at his brother, showing openly all the hurt in his optics. "You said I have everything, but that's not true. You think it was easy to be there without you? That I my spark wasn't calling for yours? For our parents'? Tell me Sun, what would you have me do if I had stayed to study here? Would you have given up going to Praxus?"

Sunstreaker's temperament subsided, looking away again, unable to meet his twins optics, so open and full of hurt, of rejection, of... betrayal? "I... I don't know. If I knew it'd be like this, they maybe yes."

"But I would never ask that of you, brother." Sideswipe dropped to sit on his berth, looking down at his black hands. "It was your dream, what you wanted to do. It was what you desired, Sun. I wouldn't want to hold you back."

"Now you're just making me feel like I'm being selfish and you're the good twin." Sunstreaker snorted half heartedly.

"Are you not being selfish, Sun?"

Sunstreaker sighed heavily and rubbed his hand along his dented cheek. "Yes, I am." He sighed heavily, looking around the room he had shared for vorns with his twin. The walls had never been repainted, sporting still the landscapes of Cybertron their father an dad had painted before they were even two halves of a spark.

"I had such great dreams, you know?" Sunstreaker spoke softly, absently as he looked into the image of Praxus' landscape. "I wanted to be this great artist that would be recognized by everyone, liked because of my artwork, just as it was back at the education centers. I had no idea it'd be so... different, so much harder."

"And for the first time, you were completely alone, and when the slag hit the fan, you had no one to fall back on." Sideswipe finished what he knew to be his twin's thoughts.

"I wasn't prepared for how different things really are over there. I thought I could handle it, that I could go there, woo everyone and come back and make our parents proud." Sunstreaker sat down on his berth, mimicking his brother's position, letting out a bitter laugh. "Instead look at the mess I am. I am scrapping by with my grades. I can't bring myself to pick up a paintbrush or grow frustrated with my sketches during class. I get into fights and arguments, I can't make friends with anyone."

Sideswipe watched his brother lower his head, the back of his arm angrily over his optics, and he knew he was brushing away tears that he could no longer hold back.

"I'm such a failure," Sunstreaker muttered. "And I'm not used to failing... I don't know how to handle this. I'm sorry I took it out on you, Side."

"You're not a failure, Sun." Sideswipe moved from his berth to his brother's, holding him close and realizing for the first time the extent of his brother's insecurity. "You were my inspiration, you know? You were always saving my aft when I got in trouble. You never let anyone push me around, remember you got only got into fights for me?"

"I'd like to know what happened to me." Sunstreaker leaned against his twin's shoulder. Sideswipe wrapped his arms around his brother, prodding their bond tentatively, sending cautious waves of affection and comfort. "You were too used to be good at what you did, Sun."

"And perhaps that was partly our fault." Prowl's voice had both young mechs jumping a little, looking up at the door to see both of their parents standing there. Prowl's optics were full of sorrow and regret, Jazz's visor was dim, and Sideswipe was certain his dad's hidden optics would be just as full of sorrow and regret as his father's.

"No, it's not your fault." Sunstreaker shook his head, rubbing his optics again as he staggered a little towards his parents, his brother right behind him. "I just didn't expect things to change so much."

Jazz wrapped his arms around Sunstreaker, holding his son tightly. "If ya want to, we can arrange a transfer ta the Iacon art education center. Ya don't have ta go back t'Praxus, Sunshine."

"No, I don't want to quit," Sunstreaker murmured, allowing Jazz to stroke his helm tenderly, relishing in the tender love of his parents he could feel in his spark, smiling as he felt the hesitant, almost timid prodding of his twin's spark. He sent a surge of playful annoyance before showering his brother with apologies and affection. "I'm sorry about what I said, Swipe."

"Don't worry about it." Sideswipe smiled and wrapped his arms around his twin and their dad. Prowl nudged Jazz to guide him and the twins to the living room, allowing Jazz to sit down on the couch with the twins curled against him. The chevroned mech prepared some steaming energon for all four, sitting between Sunstreaker and Jazz. Although he didn't want Sideswipe to feel left out, he knew at the moment the golden twin needed him close to know he wasn't disappointed on him.

They talked about the situation, the options, and agreed Sunstreaker should try through the rest of the first grade, and if he still did not feel comfortable there, he'd transfer to Iacon. They began to plan ways to allow Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to meet more often, and for either or both parents to make trips to visit both twins.

"It's pretty late and I'm afraid me and Jazz have duty in a few joors. We must get as much rest as we can." Prowl announced and stood up, helping the sleepy looking twins up. "We can arrange an outing when we're back, if you two want to take a look at places you'd like to go to, we can arrange that."

"We'll look it up when we online." Sunstreaker rubbed his face plates tiredly. "Recharge well, dad, father. Thank you for everything."

"Don't mention it, Sunshine." Jazz patted his sons' shoulders and gave them a little pat on the back to send them back to their room. He turned to Prowl and gave him a weary smile. "Let's get some rest, I'm beat."

Prowl smiled at his mate and suddenly swiped Jazz up in his arms, earning a squeak from his mate. "Hey!"

"Mute it." Prowl grinned as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe snickered at their carrier and hightailed to their room before Jazz could retaliate. The chevroned mech carried Jazz to their own room for some much needed recharge.

Back in their room both twins settled down in their berths, staring up at the ceiling for a while before Sideswipe looked over at his brother. "Hey Sun?"

"Mm?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too, Side." There was silence for a while before Sunstreaker broke it this time. "Swipe?"

"Yeah, Sunshine?"

"I Love you, brother."

Sideswipe smiled, powering down his optics. "Love you, too, bro."

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (33/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Angst. Fluffiness.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Eventual Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Because life's not always fluffy bunnies of fluffy doom. I think you'll all see where this one's heading, so I apologize for ze angst, but if it's any consolation the ending's fluffy! Hope ya like, snugsbunny!

Sideswipe stared at the blank screen where only a few clicks before he was talking to Jazz. Prowl's arrival had the visored black and white mech abruptly cut their conversation shut. With a heavy sigh, Sideswipe dialed his brother's link, smiling immediately as he was greeted by the sight of his brother with a paintbrush between his lip components. "Hey, Sun. I'm not interrupting anything important am I?"

Sunstreaker removed the paintbrush, setting it aside before he turned a little smirk at his twin. "Nope, I was just finishing some pieces for my final project. What's up?"

"Not much, was just talking to dad."

"Oh?" Sunstreaker arched an optic ridge, catching on in his twin's slightly concerned look. "Something wrong?"

Sideswipe rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "I'm worried about them. It seems they've been having a lot of fights and arguments lately."

Sunstreaker frowned. "I haven't had the chance to talk much with them lately, I've been very busy preparing the final projects I have to turn up for the final grading and exhibition. Last I knew was that dad was being promoted to a new specialized unit."

"Yeah, that's the problem. Apparently the training dad has to undertake for the new unit is really hard core and father doesn't want him to join the unit." Sideswipe's shoulders slumped. "Dad didn't take well that and from what I know they are having constant arguments and fight often about it."

"Is it really that bad?" Sunstreaker sounded genuinely concerned now. "I mean, that's not usual for father, he's always been supporting of dad and his choices."

THe red twin nodded. "They'd be working together from what I know. I think it's just a very specialized and potentially dangerous unit. I mean, dad's gonna receive training to handle explosives, and only Primus knows what other really dangerous things he's being trained in."

"That... definitely sounds hard core." Sunstreaker couldn't help the worried frown that crept into his face.

"I'll admit I am also worried dad's taking that training but, if he wants to do it there's gonna be no power in the slaggin' universe that'll have him back him down."

"And father's being foolish enough to try, huh?"

"Apparently so. The problem is father never talks about it with me, all I know comes from dad. I'm just too worried about them right now." Sideswipe cast a rather fearful look at his twin. "I'm scared, Sun. It's like they're each other's mortal enemy right now."

Sunstreaker hadn't witnessed any of what his brother was talking about but he could tell his twin was genuinely worried about the state of their parents' relationship. "I don't know if there's anything we can do, Swipe." Sideswipe sighed in defeat deciding to change the topic to something hopefully more uplifting.

--------------------

Jazz gripped the high-grade cube, downing the contents in one swing. He couldn't remember how long he had been at the small bar that used to be a special place for him and Prowl. They hadn't indulged much coming to the place since the creation of the twins, but they still favored the place whenever they could drop by. It was the first time in vorns Jazz was there without his bondmate.

Jazz knew he shouldn't stay for long, but he needed to be away, being under the same roof with Prowl only enraged him more and did not allow for him to think clearly. The past few deca-cycles had been awkward and they could only recharge together anymore if one was already asleep.

Jazz couldn't understand how their relationship had deteriorated to this point. Only a few deca-cycles ago they were like younglings fooling around, happy with their lives, and the moment Jazz announced he'd be undergoing specialized training for the new Unit commander Shockwave and Sentinel Prime were creating, Prowl had turned on him, and things had only been going downhill from that point. He was angry, hurt but more than anything, he felt betrayed. If there was one mech he always thought would support him through anything he thought that'd be Prowl. To have his bonded vehemently oppose the new direction his career would be taking was like a slap across the face plates.

This was his bondmate, the mech who went to great lengths to ensure he enjoyed his career, that he would be successful and do whatever he wanted to do, to shake sense into the creators that once disowned him for his choice. Now, that bondmate had turned on him, declaring Jazz should not undergo the training that'd place him in the same unit Prowl was transferred to. It hurt to think his mate did not want to work with him that closely.

Jazz set the cube down and decided to leave, knowing he had duty the next cycle and wouldn't do to be half intoxicated during his training. He only hoped Prowl would already be in recharge, he didn't want to have any more arguments that cycle. When he reached their living unit, he sighed in relief as everything was quiet, but as he slipped into their room, Jazz realized Prowl was not in their berth. Despite the current state of their relationship, Jazz couldn't help the worry creeping into his spark, Prowl was not the kind of mech to go out this late, especially after an argument.

The visored mech felt whatever buzz was left from the high-grade evaporate right away as he searched through the living unit for his bonded, he wasn't in his studio, nor in Jazz's, not in their wash rack nor in the spare rooms. Jazz's spark beat with panic, hoping to find his mate in the last room, their sons' dorm. He let out a soft whimper of relief when he found Prowl sitting on Sideswipe's berth, his shoulders sagging visibly and his back turned to him, playing absently with something in his hands.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked tentatively, approaching his bonded slowly. He realized Prowl had muted their bond, at first Jazz thought Prowl was blocking his emotions and the thought hurt, but realized Prowl was not blocking the bond to ignore Jazz's emotions, but to keep his own from filtering into Jazz, something he knew the chevroned mech did when he did not want to trouble his bonded.

Jazz couldn't help the pang of guilt that coursed through him, but shoved it aside for the moment, feeling now genuinely concerned about his bonded. "Prowl, what's wrong?" It was an stupid question to ask, Jazz realized, because he knew what was wrong, it was just that he never saw the way the issue affected Prowl, all he ever saw was the anger in Prowl's optics during the arguments, one he knew his own optics matched just fine.

Prowl turned to look at Jazz, his expression was listless. Worn out. Tired. The chevroned mech shrugged and looked back at the data pad he held in his hands.

"Prowl, please, speak to me?" Jazz knelt before his mate, any and all anger he had felt towards Prowl earlier was gone, replaced with the concern for his lover.

"What's the point, Jazz?" Prowl muttered, not meeting his bondmate's optics. "It'll only lead to yet another argument. I can't do this anymore."

Jazz sighed, looking away for a moment to clear his thoughts. He didn't want another fight either, but now he needed to know why his mate opposed his training so vehemently. "Prowl, why don't ya want me to go through this trainin'? Ya don't want t'work with me?"

"Will it make a difference?" Prowl brushed his thumb along the glyphs of his signature at the bottom of the pad. "You've taken your decision, Jazz."

"Please, Prowl. I don't want t'fight either, but we gotta solve this once and for all." Jazz's shoulders sagged, leaning wearily against Prowl's legs. "We've never been like this before."

"I know." Prowl set the pad aside and gathered his resolve, unsure of the reaction his words would get from Jazz. "You know if you complete the trainin to Shockwave's satisfaction you'll become our solo field agent, right?"

"Yeah. I know it's dangerous, Prowl, but have a little more faith on me. I have no intention of getting' myself deactivated anytime soon, ya know?" Jazz frowned, retracting his visor so his bondmate could see his optics. "I've been in dangerous situations before, ya've never been like this about that."

"That's because I wasn't charged with your life, Jazz." Prowl sighed heavily. "You know Shockwave and Sentinel will have me as the tactical officer in charge of the new special unit's missions. It means I'd have to direct you, Jazz. You would have to relay on my strategies and my real time updates on any operation, you could be injured and it'd be my fault."

Jazz's frown deepened, lip components twisting into a scowl. "Nice ta see the confidence ya have in my abilities."

Prowl grunted wearily, he really didn't want any more arguments that cycle. "That's not what I mean, Jazz. I know very well how skilled and capable you are, otherwise Shockwave wouldn't have picked you for the position. But I'm still afraid having you out there in the field will cripple my judgment, that I may take wrong decisions and those could lead to damage for our team mates, or to have you hurt. I can't do this, I am not capable."

"Prowl, love, yer the best we've got as far as tactical goes." Jazz reached to take Prowl's hands between his own, not understanding how Prowl could doubt himself like that. He had seen the mech in action in-site and Jazz was more than a little impressed that time. "Prowl yer amazin' coordinatin' the efforts, yer time response t'adjust ta new situations has been spot-on. We have not lost a single officer with you as the tactical officer."

"That's because I'm not bonded to any of those officers." Prowl looked away, feeling more and more weary as he spoke. "But with you in there, if I worry too much about you I may put others in danger, if I don't I'd feel like I'm betraying or being uncaring about my mate's safety. One way or the other, I'll end up damaging someone, Jazz. I can't do it."

"Prowl, Shockwave thought we were the best for this team, it's gotta count for somethin'. Even Sentinel approved it, why aren't you confident about yourself? About us?"

"Frag Shockwave and his decisions!" Prowl snarled, uncaring at the moment of the look of shock adorning now Jazz's face. "If you want to do it, Jazz, go ahead. I won't try to stop you anymore." Prowl picked the data pad, re-reading the contents of the form. "But I can't do this, I can't fight with you anymore. I don't want any more arguments. I'm quitting."

Jazz's gaping mouth moved in failed attempts to form words, but nothing came out. He shook his head to clear his processors from the utter shock. "Prowl, don't do this. Ya don't know what yer sayin'."

"I know very well what I'm saying. I can't bear to see you hurt or even lose you and know it's my fault. And I cannot bear knowing that I could very well be the cause why another officer could be lost if I focus on you and keeping you well and alive."

Jazz said nothing for a while, thinking, digesting his mate's words until he finally understood. "Ya carry a heavy burden, don't ya?" Prowl gazed back at him, puzzled. "Knowin' our officers put their lives in yer hands in any operation yer in." Prowl nodded. "I never considered that. I was lookin' forward to work with my bonded, because I know we can be a great team."

Prowl's shoulders sagged again, feeling he was going to fail to his mate no matter what he did. "I understand now what yer afraid of, an' I'm sorry I never gave ya the chance to explain why." Jazz reached his hand to stroke his mate's cheek.

Prowl leaned into the comforting touch, having missed the closeness and the love he knew they both had for each other despite their arguments. "I shouldn't have asked you to refuse the training."

"Perhaps. But ya know I'm goin' to do it anyway." Jazz smiled a little. Prowl nodded, not having the strength to ask Jazz to reconsider anymore, nor wishing to either anyway.

"But, love, don't want ya quittin' this either. I know despite the burden ya got on your shoulders, ya love your work, right?" Prowl tensed a little. "Jazz, I can't anymore."

"Yes, you can. I know yer afraid and yer doubtin' yourself, here. But I know you can do it love." Jazz stood, taking his bonded's hands he tugged gently, leading Prowl to his studio, closing the doors our of habit and leading Prowl to a large arrangement of cushioning, guiding Prowl to lay on his side as he laid against his bonded, opening his chest plates. "Jazz, I don't think this is a good moment for this."

"Love, we need this, ya need to let go." Jazz stroked Prowl's chest, trying to coax him gently to reveal his spark for him. Prowl finally obliged and their chests pressed gently, bringing their sparks against each other, although not merging them as they'd do during interfacing. They established a connection, conscious of each other and their own bodies still, but able to delve into each other's feelings and emotions. "There's unrest, lover. I know this is a heavy load on ya shoulders, so it's on mine, because I refuse ta let myself be slagged. I got a bonded and two wonderful sons to come back to."

"I don't ever want to lose you," Prowl admitted, pressing his chest just a little tighter against Jazz's, holding his mate by his hips. "I'm so scared, though. I don't want to let anyone down." Jazz pressed his helm against Prowl's, noses touching tenderly. "I know, love. I know yer scared, and that this is even more unnervin' for ya."

They shared their thoughts, their fears, their worries and both admitted the growing unrest they could see among the society was scaring them both, knowing the new unit was being created because criminal activity was on the raise, dangerous situations were becoming more common, violence was escalating. Prowl decided that, despite his misgivings, Jazz was right and he was the best choice to be the tactical officer of the new unit. He knew Jazz, he knew what his mate was capable of, he'd be able to coordinate him during operations better than any other officer could. He would have to put a certain emotional distance to cope with the situation, but Jazz was fine with that. Work was work, and their life outside of it was what mattered.

Their sparks parted gently, not having merged completely. Their chest plates closed and they curled against each other, finally at peace with their decisions and relieved by the burning love that they held for each other despite the low spot they had hit. They were rising together, feeling stronger than ever, loving each other above everything.

--------------------------

Prowl and Jazz were glad their twins were graduating finally, both all too eager to have Sideswipe away from Altihex, where violence and crime were quickly escalating and they both admitted to want their son away from that place as soon as possible. Things were definitely better at Praxus, so they were confident Sunstreaker was not in any immediate danger.

Regardless, Sideswipe's graduation was met with much joy by all. Sunstreaker's graduation would be a Deca-cycle later, so he was able to attend his twin's graduation. They spent the cycle at Altihex, celebrating before Sunstreaker had to return to Praxus, Sideswipe returned to Iacon with his parents.

Both twins has been overjoyed whatever problems their parents had before had been sorted, glad to see them together and happy during Sideswipe's graduation. Sunstreaker had worked hard during the remaining grades of his education and would be receiving his certification during the opening ceremony for the exhibition put together by all the students that were graduating.

Sunstreaker showed his parents and brother around, observing the different pieces put together by other students along with his own. "Did you paint this on a fragment of the wall?" Sideswipe leaned forward over the containment bars, squinting his optics to try to find any sign that the painting was not, in fact, painted in the wall itself.

"It is. It's called muralism." Prowl smiled, studying his son's painting, it depicted Cybertron though the optics of twin brothers, one half of the painting presented the way one saw the world, the colors chosen to represent the differences with the opposing yet complementary colors of the world seen through the other twin's optics. Although they weren't clearly visible, Prowl found himself and Jazz integrated into the painting.

Both parents congratulated their sons for their graduation, and Sunstreaker was only too glad he was going to be back at home soon. Sideswipe found employment relatively soon, and Sunstreaker was beginning to gain recognition as an artist, having sold almost all the pieces of his graduation exhibition, currency he was intending to put forth towards a living unit for himself and Sideswipe.

Prowl and Jazz were both happy and sad that their sons would soon be moving away from home to keep going with their lives, but glad they would be staying in Iacon. They made sure that, despite the busy schedules they led sometimes as Jazz completed his training and Prowl undertook voluntarily more combat training of his own; they could spend as much time with their sons before they would move to their own place, showering their twins with their pride and satisfaction that both were good mechs, and were living their own dreams despite any obstacles.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (34/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Implications of character death. Angst. Violence.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Blaster.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Remember I said you guys better enjoy the fluff while it lasted? Yeah well... This chapter is vaguely based in events from Megatron Origins, but let me stress the 'vaguely' part. I'm not happy with the last part but alas, it's all my brain gave to me. I'm sorry for eating the fluffs for now, snugsbunny!

Jazz drove fast through the streets, transformed and ran when his vehicle mode found obstacles he couldn't sort in that mode. He never stopped, he hardly slowed down. He had to reach the Decagon, reach the gathering of the elders and deliver his precious cargo. He could not let Prowl down.

Everything was a blur in his processor as he rushed through the streets, hearing cries and whimpers and all sounds to be expected of a panicked population. Life was changing at an accelerated pace and few, if any, were prepared to withstand the end of life as they knew it.

Half a vorn ago Jazz and his bonded had been promoted to the elite crime and violence suppression unit in Kaon. Shockwave's and his officer's efforts had become insufficient and Sentinel Prime marched from Iacon to Kaon with the members of the special task force.

Neither Prowl nor Jazz had been happy about it, having to leave behind their home and the life they had become used to, leaving behind their children whom had finally moved to have a life of their own. Kaon had not been pleasant. Their living arrangements were spartan and essentially all their own home was not. They tried to make the most out of the situation, managing to find a sense of familiarity in their new surroundings. Jazz was tasked with difficult missions more often and even Prowl saw field duty regularly.

Compared to the near idyllic life they led in Iacon, the transfer to Kaon had slapped the harsh reality across their face plates. Jazz had never been to Kaon prior to his transfer and although Prowl had been there previously, even he could not process how radically different the city had become since his last visit. Jazz was not a naive mech by any stretch but even he was surprised by some of the vices consuming the city and its people. They all did what they could, and to a degree they had managed to succeed given their own prerogative and inability to terminate lives unless left with absolutely no other choice.

They felt they were making a progress, they all worked hard to salvage the city as much as they could. For a time Jazz held the hope they would be able to change things and his fellow Cybertronians in Kaon, and by extension the rest of the planet, would once again enjoy a peaceful life. That was until less than two cycles ago, when the proverbial pit broke loose. When an imposing silver mech by the designation of Megatron had extinguished the life of their Prime with his bare hands.

The life as Jazz knew it was over. When Sentinel Prime's mangled, lifeless shell was dropped over their figurative heads they all knew things were about to change and not for good. Shockwave immediately turned an expecting optic at Prowl, all officers around them did. Suddenly Jazz's mate was no longer the tactical officer and sub commander of the team. He was the leader of the team, of all the units of the security forces all over Cybertron.

Jazz would have been the first to express pride over Prowl's prompt reaction, had it not been under such dire circumstances. As soon as all optics turned to him, Prowl did what was expected of him --he took command and reorganized the forces, preparing to evacuate a city that was no longer safe for civilians and enforcers alike.

Prior to the battle that cost him his life, Sentinel Prime entrusted Prowl with the most sacred artifact in Cybertron, the one thing that separated their Prime from the rest of them. Whether he had sensed his own demise or was acting out of pure sensibility, Sentinel Prime ordered Prowl to safeguard the Matrix of Leadership, instructing him to return the relic to the temple of the Elders should anything happen to him.

Prowl was no fool however, and secretly entrusted the artifact to Jazz instead. The moment Prowl took command of the forces and ordered a retreat to begin the evacuation, Jazz was given the order through their sparkbond. Only they knew who was currently in possession of the Matrix and both prayed this move would grant them some leverage, some amount of advantage against the impromptu revolution that was taking place in Kaon. Without their Prime it would be very hard to organize and lead a counter offensive, or at the very least determinate the best course of action, and if the Matrix fell in the incorrect hands their whole race could very well be doomed.

Jazz couldn't help the worry that stubbornly refused to stay in the back of his processor, the worry that pushed him to move faster, to run with all his might towards the temple and deliver his precious cargo. Prowl was the main target for the time being, whether in order to acquire the Matrix or simply because he was the current commander of the security forces. The sooner Jazz delivered the Matrix to the Elders the sooner he could head back to Prowl's side. He had thought briefly about contacting their children as soon as he stepped within Iacon, but forced himself not to -- Prowl had advised against establishing contact with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe just yet for their safety.

As the temple came into his field of view, the visored mech pushed his body to its limits, trying to move just that little bit faster, finally reaching the entrance as he transformed without skidding to a halt. The guards at the entrance cried at him, demanding he halted his frantic race, Jazz barked a code given to him by Prowl and the guards, after a shocked gasp, stepped aside to allow Jazz into the temple, quickly following after him slamming their fists against panels in the walls that initiated what Jazz assumed was a defensive mechanism as all doors and windows began to close, sealing him and his cargo within its confines. Jazz rushed, following a map given to him by his mate, vaguely aware of the guards following him, barking commands back and forth between themselves and, he assumed, the rest of the guard protecting the temple and the elders.

He panted heavily as he skidded to a stop in the chamber where all Elders gathered, one approached him, as by now he was obviously expected. Jazz crumbled to his knees, drawing the concern of other elders around him and a couple of guards approached to help him up. He refused their help as he retrieved the precious artifact, cradling the Matrix with the same tenderness and care he cradled his children when they were placed in their polymer forms, and held it out for the elder to take. A thank you was muttered as he finally allowed the exertion and tiredness to claim him and he slumped, having fulfilled the task appointed to him by his commander and bondmate.

"You must rest," one of the elders spoke in a grave, husky and worn out voice --a reminder that the elders were truly ancient. Jazz shook his head, he couldn't lose any more time, he had to return to Prowl. "I can't," he panted the words, ignoring the warnings that were now displaying on his field of view, he was dangerously low in fuel, his frame was overheating and his systems were severely taxed. "Must return t'Kaon."

The elder shook his head, or at least, Jazz assumed he did as the ancient mech wore a heavy tunic-like over armor over a frail, weak frame. "In your present condition you'll never make it. You must rest, you've done your duty." The elder handed the Matrix to another who took it to the sacred chamber where the Matrix would rest and begin its search for its new bearer. "At least allow us to tend to your immediate needs, we'll have you on your way back to Kaon once you're in condition to travel."

Jazz wanted to say no, he had to return to Prowl immediately, but his body all but betrayed him, warnings of imminent stasis lock began to display in his field of view, and Jazz cursed the limits of his body. He couldn't allow himself to fall into stasis lock, even if temporary, it would be detrimental for Prowl. He nodded at the Elder's offer, allowing two guards to help him towards a small corner of the chamber where some berths were accommodated, being lowered on one of them as he was offered a cube of energon by one of the smaller elders. He had to power down his systems and recharge at least for a little, but before he did he opened his bond with Prowl as wide and strong as he could manage.

'I did it.'

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Prowl would have smiled as he received Jazz message through their bond if he had not been in the middle of directing the evacuation. He barked orders left and right, instructing small groups of mechs where to go, what to search for and the direction they should take. He assigned different crews to take the injured to nearby cities, coordinated the security forces in those cities to fortify them and be prepared for any eventuality.

Shockwave was currently discussing with the senate the measures that were to be taken. Prowl had purposefully kept himself away from that duty, and although he knew himself capable of debating with the senate, his fellow enforcers and the civilian population needed him in the field, not arguing with the Senate. The now temporary commander of the security forces took what few moments he could to take care of other personal, pressing matters. Although the Matrix had been safely delivered to the Ancients and was now protected and waiting for a new Prime to emerge, Prowl knew he had become the new primary target, placing not only him and Jazz in danger, but if the now self-styled Decepticons learned of his and Jazz's children, it would place the twins in danger.

He did not have much time to discuss the matter with Jazz, but had cautioned his bonded about contacting the twins. He also talked with Blaster, requesting from the communications officer to kept any information about Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's relationship with him and Jazz a secret. Red Alert received a similar request, although the mech had not seen the twins since their frames were modified and probably wouldn't recognize them easily.

As he was now the commander of the security forces, all systems immediately granted him access to any files he requested, and Prowl took advantage of that fact, accessing the records back at Iacon and suppressing all traces of his and Jazz's relationship with the twins in what records were available. He knew Sideswipe and Sunstreaker could react negatively to his actions and was fully aware tension with his sons could arise, but he'd have to live with that, he couldn't risk his twins' lives, it was hard enough to deal with knowing his relationship with Jazz could endanger his bonded, but there was nothing either of them could do about that anymore. Keeping their relationship hidden was impossible by now.

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Their reunion had been a bitter one. Jazz was glad Prowl was back in Iacon and that they were together again, both safe and sound given the current situation, unfortunately with Prowl's arrival so did the bad news. The Senate had become a liability more than any aid, and the current commander was fighting a lost battle against forces that obeyed no rules, that had no moral parameters to follow.

Jazz could understand their reluctance to allow the use of lethal force, and he knew his bonded did not want to resort to that himself, but when they were faced with a guerilla armed with the best of the best and having complete disregard for the life of even their own comrades, the pitiful weaponry at the disposal of the security forces was proving most ineffective to hold back, let alone suppress the Decepticons. They needed access to the top class weaponry reserved for extreme situations but the senate was adamantly refusing to provide their officers with what they so desperately required to submit Megatron and his forces.

What ground they had gained and what small victories they had ensured had been through Prowl's strategical thinking and planning ability, but Jazz knew even that wouldn't be enough in the long run. Iacon was in a state of heavy distress, everyone was hiding in their homes, business were closed, panic an fear ruled the city and that meant the security forces were stretching themselves thin to contain what acts of crime and vandalism were taking place under the chaotic and fearful environment. Jazz was doing all he could, suddenly found assisting Red Alert in the command of the local security forces to try to maintain what order and peace they could, as Prowl's priority was in containing the Decepticons within Kaon and coordinating their forces in other cities. With cycles going by with no news regarding the Matrix and the selection of a new Prime, things were becoming harder and harder for everyone.

Then came the final blow. Shockwave had grown tired of arguing with a senate that refused to listen to reason and logic and continued to deny authorization to use of lethal force and give them access to proper weaponry. Deciding the Senate was stagnating and that their ways were stopping the progress of their kind, Shockwave turned his back and allied with Megatron.

Jazz had never seen Prowl as angry as he was the moment Shockwave came to the headquarters and informed Prowl the senate had to be eliminated, and invited Prowl and Jazz to join him and the Decepticons, citing there was no use in defending a society that had grown too complacent, inadequate to act and carry their kind into new heights. Prowl tried to reason with Shockwave, but everything Prowl offered as reason for Shockwave to remain amongst them was met with cold, hard facts that Shockwave considered proof the right choice was to ally with the Decepticons.

Shockwave wasn't joining the Decepticons because he believed in Megatron's premises and promises. He was joining because he saw the revolution as a cleansing fire that would rid Cybertron of the parasitic society that was holding back its evolution. That to build a new and better order everything else had to fall, be destroyed to create anew. Jazz had tried to appeal to the loyal commander that wanted the best for Cybertron and its people, the one who brought up the great strategist and tactician Prowl turned out to be and the excellent field agent Jazz had become. It was no use, Shockwave declared his loyalty was still towards Cybertron, but that he could no longer stand by the Senate that would rather let their officers be slaughtered. The purpose had changed and Shockwave invited them again to join him and bring about a new age for their planet and their race where only the best of the best would reign.

All too calmly in the outside, although Jazz knew a storm ragged within his bonded, Prowl refused the offer, ordering Shockwave to be arrested for treason. Shockwave warned Prowl if he, too, did not follow his logic over unnecessary feelings and sentimentalism, he'd share Sentinel Prime's fate. Jazz could not help but be worried about those words, there was a hidden threat in that warning, the threat that if Prowl allowed his emotions and feelings, his morals and ethics to get in the way of what had to be done, Prowl would perish. The visored mech could only think Shockwave's arrest and his warning were heralding something terrible to come, and he feared for his bonded.

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Jazz watched the devastation all around him, feeling himself trapped in a nightmare of which he couldn't wake up. The fires ragged through the ruins, and he could hear the cries of personnel spreading around the area in search of survivors as the transports with combatants settled on the ground to allow the officers to take their positions. What once was the beautiful city of Praxus was being reduced to ruins in the blink of an optic sensor.

Inferno was in the area leading the Search and Rescue team while Blaster relayed the current status of the attacking army. Jazz ignored them all for a moment turning a worried glance at the lone figure standing over what once had been the museum. "Prowl," Jazz murmured as he approached his eerily quiet bonded. The current commander's gaze was locked in the ruins, specifically a scorched segment of what used to be a painting, the pigments had boiled and scorched for the most part, leaving segments of black, burnt paint and a melting metal sheet, but enough of it remained for the saboteur to recognize the piece. "Oh, Primus..."

Prowl finally moved, picking one of the pieces of the panting that had remained partly recognizable. He stared at it for what felt like joors, before something cold swept through Jazz spark as he watched Prowl's hand tighten into a fist, crushing the piece of the painting, destroying it forever. Somehow, Jazz felt something else had been destroyed along with that painting.

"Commander!" Blaster bellowed, running up to them to deliver even more bad news. "The senate has been attacked! They've terminated almost all the members of the senate!"

"What?!" Jazz felt yet another wave of cold running through his spark and systems, the building where the senate was located was also where Shockwave was currently imprisoned.
"Shockwave?" Prowl asked, his voice oddly neutral, almost detached.

Blaster shook his head. "He escaped. Red Alert is already acting at Iacon, the Decagon and the Temple are safe and forces from Altihex and Polyhex were deployed to reinforce the security." The communications officer explained amidst the booming sounds of explosions in the distance, where the Decepticons and security forces were trading blows. "What are your orders, commander?"

Prowl turned around, discarding the crushed metal, "Call the chief engineer Wheeljack and Perceptor in the science bureau. Transmit the following code, use of lethal force is authorized, relay to all units." Prowl barked the code and marched away towards the transport to arm himself with what weaponry they had brought.

Jazz followed after Prowl almost by inertia, arming himself to partake in the upcoming battle, hoping against hope that Praxus could be salvaged for Prowl's sake.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (35/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Implications of character death. Angst. Violence.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: This chapter was damn hard to write and try to keep it making some degree of sense. I don't think I succeeded much, though. I hope you like snugsbunny. I think it's safe to say there's probably one or two more chapters to go before this thing's officially over. I think a couple of people might get the cut's text this time, I just felt they suited the chapter.

The corridors were relatively quiet as it usually was at this time. That was fine with him, he really didn't want to see anyone at the moment, he wanted to reach his quarters, hit the wash racks and recharge. He was tired, covered in mech fluid, minor burns and scratches and the stench of death and destruction trailed after him.

The first time he returned back home in a similar state he spent so long in the wash racks trying to wash away the odor of former living creatures. He'd brush his plating so hard the paint would begin to scratch and peel off, but no matter what he did, he couldn't feel clean. He would never feel clean ever again. Now, he didn't bother much, he washed himself more for personal hygiene than in feeble attempts to feel clean. Emotional or spiritually clean.

He couldn't truly remember how long it had been since the last time he felt clean, that he felt he bore no stains of the terrible mech he had become. Once upon a time he was happy, he led a happy life, with a successful career, two wonderful sons and a bondmate he loved more than life. Those times seemed so distant now that Jazz sometimes wondered if they truly existed, if he had been that happy and life had been that perfect in reality or if everything was but an illusion, a happy dream his CPU concocted to counter the terrible life he lived through each cycle.

Yes, there used to be a time when he was a good mech, when he did something he believed was making a difference and making his home world a better place, a good place for his family to live in. There used to be a time where his job was to safeguard lives. Now, his specialty was quite the opposite. He kept reminding himself his hand had been forced, that the assassin, infiltrator and saboteur he had become was a necessity, someone had to do the dirty work, and he just happened to be the one with the skills to do it.

Everyone had to make sacrifices in the war that had been ravaging their world for vorns, but there were times Jazz felt he and his family had made the most sacrifices.

Vorns ago, when Megatron's revolution began, Jazz and his bondmate had their lives turned upside down. Prowl suddenly had become responsible for the security of a whole planet, he was forced to become a leader in times of chaos. At the time Jazz did what he could to assist and support his mate, but things kept getting worse and worse. They were forced to hide their relationship with their sons to protect them, and although Jazz had not approved of Prowl's move, he understood his reasons and couldn't blame him for trying to protect his family. But as expected the action was met with very negative reactions from their twin sons. Sideswipe had been a little more understanding, although no more willing to forgive the unilateral decision taken by his father. Sunstreaker, though, had refused to listen to any reasons, clearly taking Prowl's decision as a personal offense.

Jazz tried to mediate, to make their sons see the times required extreme measures and quick actions. He knew it pained his bondmate to do what he did, but his priority was to protect his family, even if it meant to earn the hate of his sons. They managed an agreement, understanding Prowl's position as the, at the time, leader of the security forces, he was the number one enemy of the Decepticons.

Sunstreaker blamed Prowl's choice of career and any decisions he took that led him to the position he was in. A chasm formed between father and son that, at another time, Prowl would have sought to breach, to mend their relationship. But by the time the discussion took place, Prowl was not the same mech he used to be. Sideswipe realized quite soon his father was different, although he knew he could be stoic and strict, the coldness and apparent indifference for the emotional hurt were a new and disturbing development. He shared his worries with his dad, and Jazz himself admitted to be at loss of what to do for him.

The twins had tried to keep going with their lives despite the environment of chaos and unrest. There was little market remaining for an artist such as Sunstreaker, and although the Towers' mechs still indulged in their expensive life styles and sustained Sunstreaker's livelihood for the most part, the golden twin was having a harder time completing what pieces were commissioned to him. His pieces beginning to turn far inferior than his usual work.

Sideswipe became a trader who began to plunge into the darkest side of the business. While no illegal merchandise ever crossed his hands, the red twin was skirting the line between legal and illegal activities. Something Jazz learned about as he still maintained a degree of casual contact with the twins, but that he chose to keep from his bonded. As life became harder, Sunstreaker gave up on his artistic career as a means to sustain himself and his brother, and began to frequent the illegal fighting rings that peppered the border sectors of Iacon.

Jazz could not keep that from Prowl when Red Alert, still acting as commander of the security forces for Iacon, crashed one of the gatherings, securing Sunstreaker in the process. Fate chose that moment to bring about the raise of a new Prime, and it was then when things began to change once more, at first it seemed it would be for the better. Now Jazz wasn't so sure anymore.

They became an army of their own under the name of Autobots, those willing to put the fight against the Decepticons following their new Matrix bearer, Optimus Prime. It was a surprise to see Sunstreaker and Sideswipe join the new army, and they made it quite clear they had nothing left, it was their time to take to arms as frontline warriors.

There had been hope at first, things seemed to be improving now that there was a figure they could turn to for the Matrix's wisdom. For a time they had gained a few battles, dealt a few blows that seemed to be turning the tides in favor of the Autobots, but soon enough the Decepticons retaliated and things became stalemate. For every blow the Autobots dealt the Decepticons dealt an equally devastating blow. Things stagnated, the planet was being ravaged. A handful decided the efforts were being wasted and took to the stars, hoping to find peace somewhere else.

Jazz had wanted to join them, to run away from this life of death and destruction that had become his every cycle. Take his family and go away, hope to rebuild their lives far away from Cybertron, Autobots and Decepticons. Yet, he couldn't. He had risen among the ranks and became a key mech in their Prime's staff, most of those who left the planet had been Autobots and what few neutrals remained, few were Decepticons who chose to defect to run from the war. To leave would have been to put a gun to the Autobot cause's head.

As if that hadn't been obstacle enough, Jazz suspected nothing he could say would make Prowl leave. His bonded was the Prime's right hand, he played an important role to running and organizing the army they had become, he wouldn't leave no matter what. His departure would have contributed without a doubt to Prowl losing his life if he was lucky, and he did not want to think of what would happen to him if the Decepticons got their hands on his bondmate.

No matter what, Jazz could not leave. He considered convincing Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to go, but he admitted with sadness the war had changed his sons so much, that the life in a peaceful colony far away from them would not end well. Sunstreaker was extremely violent by now, antisocial, egotistical, spiteful. The war had become his life, he wouldn't be able to adapt to living in peace just with Sideswipe alone.

Sideswipe wasn't as lost in the war as them, but he had not gone unscathed. He had become a turbo fox desperate for attention, desperate for something to garner him the care or the annoyance of someone, as long as he was given a breem of someone's time. He was a cheeky, rebellious, problematic mech. He got in trouble often, and although there were no ill intentions behind his actions, many times his acts of random vandalism had him landing on a superior's office earning a dressing down.

Once again Jazz felt despair about the situation. His sons needed affection, attention, and although they were both mature mechs now, they were still far too young, still needing some guidance and reassurance, things neither he or Prowl could give openly if they wanted to keep their relationship secret. It pained Jazz that he could not take his children in his arms and murmur words of comfort and reassurance.

The reality of how much he had lost in the war kept falling on him like a merciless acid rain accompanied with shrapnel and boulders. He had nothing left, his own creators had been deactivated during one of the earlier counter strikes from the Decepticons, targeting the civilian population in Polyhex and devastating the place. His only consolation was in knowing his carrier and sire had not suffered a slow and painful deactivation.

That had been a trying time in his life, a moment that reminded him his bonded, the warm and caring Prowl who gave him the sons he loved and mended the hurt between Jazz and his creators was gone. He could feel Prowl's inner struggle, trying to force himself to care, to be affected, to make his comforting embrace stronger, more meaningful, but he could not. He shed no tears for Praxus, he would shed no tears for those lost in Polyhex, he just wasn't capable of anymore. It was devastating to realize that although Prowl still loved him and tried to offer comfort and reassurance, inside Prowl was as good as dead. Jazz wondered if Prowl would even shed a tear if he was ever lost during the war, but decided he really didn't want to know, hoping, dreaming, that if he perished Prowl would care.

As he leaned against the wall of the wash rack and let the cleansing spray fall upon his body, washing away the trails of his latest deed, the saboteur pondered the state of Prowl's mind and spark. He felt so cold now, as if that spark that once burned with a passion for his work, his art, his bonded and sons was frozen. He couldn't even feel Prowl through their bond so much now. He knew the mech blocked the bond and only opened it faintly if Jazz was out in a mission, using it as a tool to ensure his success more than as the spiritual link that used to be.

Prowl never took to drawing ever again since the attack to Praxus. Even Sunstreaker painted still, he had never stopped despite his work not being up to his usual standards, he just refused to give it up. Prowl, however didn't even bother looking at or acknowledging Sunstreaker's paintings anymore whenever someone brought them up in conversation during meetings. The only times Prowl seemed to show any degree of emotion, and that was a very faint one at that, was whenever he was directing a counter offensive over any plan or artifacts that involved Shockwave. Jazz knew if Prowl ever allowed himself to entertain the thought, he'd admit to blame Shockwave for what he had become, for Prowl was the Autobots' equivalent of Shockwave, and Jazz knew only whatever link between him and Prowl remained, and the strong values Optimus Prime still upheld; kept Prowl from becoming equal to the cold, amoral Decepticon.

Jazz dragged his weight out of the wash rack, heading for the dispenser installed at the far end. He really didn't feel like fueling, energon having stopped to taste good to him a long time ago. He merely gulped down the substance, not bothering to savor it anymore. The thoughts, memories and realities that kept crashing against him were becoming too much, too overpowering. What was left for him anymore? The war was tearing them all apart bit by bit, his sons, his bonded, himself.

He didn't know what he could do anymore. How to stop their falls? How he could mend such broken mechs? How could he bring himself together again? He wasn't proud of who he had become, even if they had been necessities, he still felt himself as little more than a Decepticon. The dam broke. He couldn't hold any of this in anymore. He let the empty cube of energon fall unceremoniously to the ground and he fell along. He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his head in his arms, allowing his despair and desperation take over him.

He cried, he didn't care about anything anymore, all he wanted at that moment was just to stop hurting, for something to end it all. Some cataclysm that'd claim them all and stop their descend further into this madness. Lost in his misery he did not hear the sound of the automatic doors sliding open, nor the quiet foot steps that followed.

Prowl did not know what to make of the sight before him. The huddled saboteur that hugged his legs to his chest and cried, frame shaking vigorously as he poured his unhappiness through his tears. In the many vorns they had spent together, he had never seen Jazz like this, not even during the hardest times in their lives. The mech before him was not the Jazz he was used to, he was the very essence of misery and sparkache.

He stared for what felt like an eternity, hearing the soft but powerful cries that poured from a mech that never once shed a tear since he became the special operations agent he was now. Something inside of him broke at the sight, something hot, powerful, terrifying and humbling. Guilt. He opened his side of the bond, which he kept closed off most of the time and only opened briefly and not at full force when Jazz was out in a mission. He had closed his side of the bond to shield Jazz from the mech he was becoming, not wanting to add into his own bondmate's load.

But now with the bond wide open between them both, he could feel every single emotion coursing through his mate, his despair, sadness, frustration, desperation, sorrow, but specially loneliness. Prowl didn't even realize he was moving as quick steps led him to Jazz, dropping to his own knees as his arms encircled the shaking saboteur. 'How could you let this happen?' A voice inside of him, one he recognized as his own demanded. He didn't know. He had no honest answer for his own question, and at the moment that was not important. What mattered was the wreck of a mech cradled in his arms.

He felt Jazz lean against himself, not bothering to reign in the maelstrom inside of him, just clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping him afloat in an unforgiving sea seeking to swallow Jazz. The realization slapped him so hard, because that was exactly what he was for Jazz. He'd always been that piece of flotation that kept Jazz going, and for a long time now, Prowl had abandoned Jazz, leaving him to fend for himself in that unforgiving sea that was finally devouring him.

Self loathing raised its head within Prowl, but he pushed it away, it was not the time to feel hate for himself or worry about his own guilt, not when Jazz needed him so much. What had been done was done, and nothing could change that, but there was still a chance to make it all better, as better as it could given the situation. He held Jazz tightly, allowing himself to share his emotions with Jazz once again, pouring all the love he had for this mech, a love that never died, but that he had forced to mute in his hopes to do what was right for everyone.

Jazz's cries died down to soft whimpers and sobs, clinging tightly to Prowl, basking in that love that was being poured into him, wishing he could curl within that cocoon that was the warmth Prowl still had within. He mumbled his fears, his sadness, his worries, his loneliness, he let it all out, and Prowl listened to everything, caring, truly caring for each word and emotion coming from his bonded.

"I love you," Prowl whispered against Jazz's helm, holding his mate tight, at loss of what words he could ever speak that would make anything better. He said the only thing that he was certain of in this now very uncertain life. "I love you," he repeated with vehemency, holding the visored mech so tightly he was certain Jazz's armor was beginning to dent his own. He didn't care.

Prowl didn't know what reaction he expected his words would garner from Jazz. He didn't even think he was expecting a reaction whatsoever. Yet his sparkfelt words, echoing with intensity through their now open bond had Jazz holding him so tight, as if he wanted to pull him into his body. Familiar lips pressed hard against his own, and Prowl felt Jazz devour his mouth, he reacted without thinking, without considering anything, he just kissed Jazz back matching all the passion and desperation in Jazz's own kiss.

Prowl didn't have recollection of the moment he picked Jazz and carried him to their berth. Ever since the beginning of the war sharing a berth between them had implied nothing more than using the same berth to recharge in at the same time, never anything else. Neither was fully aware of what they were doing once they both lowered onto the recharging platform, few words, mostly nonsense was exchanged between them. Nothing mattered anymore, neither words, nor the war looming at every twist and turn. Fingers stroked along plating that was familiar, mapped in millions of occasions and yet felt new, intriguing, drugging. They cared not for anything but each other at the moment, re-learning each other's bodies, feeling familiarity and novelty in the experience at the same time.

Some time during their exchange, the blue visor was removed, and Prowl looked deeply into those optics he had fallen in love with a very long time ago. He lost himself willingly into the intense optics, uncaring about anything that was not Jazz. The war was forgotten, the duty was left behind, the weight of responsibility, of what had to be done, of the greater good, everything was carelessly left behind, as all that mattered at the moment was nothing but each other.

What words were spoken were lost to the sensation of each other, the feeling of one against the other. Prowl felt himself fall in love with his mate once again as they mapped each other's bodies. Their love making was beyond the desire, the passion that still burned through their bodies now gloriously unrestrained. It was not about interfacing, it was not about desire or need, it was about healing, about mending each other from the malevolent touch of war. It was painful, agonizing, sweet, and blissful. As sparks were revealed an pressed together, every dark deed was left behind, there was no room for all that negativity in the perfection of their merged soul, their consciousness nothing but a paradise of love and forgiveness, an oasis in the middle of a desert that was their home world and the remnants of their society.

Nothing else mattered but each other, to heal each other, to find each other after losing themselves to what they had been forced to become. Slowly, little by little, old injuries were mended, newer ones were tended to. For Jazz it felt as if this had been the very first time he'd ever interfaced, the first time he made love to someone and was made love in return, it all felt novel once again, lively, amazing, challenging. He vaguely wondered how he could survive for so long without this, without the kind of completion Prowl gave him. He knew within that half of a whole spark that was himself, that Prowl felt the same way.

They barely cried each other's names as their bodies overloaded, they were intertwined not only in body but also in soul, and if they could remain that way forever they gladly would have. Their sparks lingered together as they separated and retreated back into their respective chambers. Things had changed and they hoped it would be for the best, the war did not wait for anyone, and despite that small reprieve, they knew reality would show up its face once again.

As they lay together, pressed against each other, legs loosely intertwined as were the white fingers of a hand, linked with the fingers of a matching black; they allowed their recharging protocols to take over, slowly falling into a needed and welcomed recharge. There was much that still needed to be said but that could wait until the next cycle. Despite the uncertainty that still surrounded them, their last conscious, shared thought before recharge claimed them was that the future, how ever bleak, no longer scared them as long as they had each other.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (36/??)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Implications of character death. Angst. Violence. Fluff.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Optimus Prime.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: And the roller coaster keeps going. I'm not too pleased with this chapter to be honest, the beginning bugs me but my brain ain't cooperating further. I hope this makes sense at least, the end is near! Hope you like snugsbunny!

Something had changed between them, Optimus Prime decided after a meeting with his officers. He wasn't certain what transpired between the mechs, but he would be the first to admit to be happy for them and silently thanked Primus for whatever blessings their deity choose to bestow upon them.

Although Optimus knew Prowl and Jazz were a bonded couple, since the time he became Prime he had rarely seen them act like one. They got along fine and he could tell there was a degree of care between them, Jazz still had lingering or concerned looks for Prowl back when the new Autobot army was starting still on hands and knees. That had seemed to fade into more of a professional relationship, and although he still could see some degree of care from Jazz and Prowl towards each other they simply did not look, act or speak like a bonded couple.

Now, though some subtle and other not so subtle changes in their behavior led him to believe something had happened in the past few joors that had changed things between them, and it seemed it had been for good. Prowl, his stiff, stoic, practical and efficient tactician had something about him, his posture while still stiff seemed somewhat relaxed. His optics were a little brighter, his glance more inquisitive, lively. That was the word that definitely defined the differences, Prowl did look alive rather than just existing like he had since he first met him.

Jazz's changes were less subtle, his visor was also brighter, and he was smiling, a true smile that denoted happiness, something he hadn't seen in his special operations agent in a very long time. Their bodies as they walked together were closer than usual, fingers brushing against each other absently. If Optimus Prime had to define them, his two senior officers almost looked like younglings in love. There were few words in any known language that could describe the relief and happiness that realization brought to him, it gave him reassurance and hope.

The changes between his officers seemed to affect almost everyone who got to look at them. Suddenly the grave tone of their meetings was less so. The planning sessions were becoming especially entertaining to witness, it was not because they were amusing, but there was something in the way Prowl and Jazz worked together now, the subtle challenges from one to the other to improve the odds of whatever they were doing, the way the plans now seemed even stronger, sturdier, more effective. The first time Jazz left for a dangerous mission since then, Optimus Prime witnessed for the very first time the extent of the care and emotion his tactician could display.

It wasn't something glaringly in someone's face, but it was easy to see if one knew what to look for. Prowl's wings were tense, and his optics showed barely suppressed worry, yet his decisions and real time adjustment of the plans with Jazz were precise and flawless. Prime could tell the chevroned mech was confident on his mate but still worried about his well being, forcing himself to perform his duties as perfectly as he was capable of. When Jazz announced his mission to be successful and estimated time for return, he could see the tension leaving Prowl's frame, relief and gratitude showed in his face as he continued about with all other duties assigned to him.

Jazz's return implied to drop by Prowl's office first, and whatever happened there Prime was not privy to, and decided it wasn't his business after all. Whatever happened definitely left Jazz in a very good mood, no matter how tired or worn out he was from his mission. This change in their behavior prompted changes in everyone else as well. Morale improved greatly, other officers like Blaster along with Jazz began to devote what time they could to do things to ward off the other soldiers' worries, improve morale, keep their hopes and optics in the cause.

It was odd in a way to see the Autobots had something to look forward to every new cycle. The mess hall was now used more often, the Autobots talked more amongst themselves, living, truly living together and working together. Optimus Prime wasn't entirely sure if he could attribute such behavior in his forces to the change in the relationship of his second and third in command, but he knew they were responsible of triggering it in at least some degree.

He truly hoped the new mood and improved morale would aid their efforts in some measure, that the boost of life would remain and help them all through the trials they faced. The battle against the Decepticons had been going for so long now and the Prime, even with the Matrix's wisdom wasn't sure how much longer the fighting would continue. He hoped they'd see the end of the war soon, not only for his soldiers and friends, but for the good of their home planet, which was dying a slow, and merciless death.

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Jazz felt a little nervous, unsure of how the meeting he had arranged with his and Prowl's sons would play out. With his and Prowl's slow but sure healing, the saboteur decided they also needed to reach for their sons, though agreeing to keep their secret going for as long as possible during the war. It had been worrisome to watch Prowl's indecision when he proposed to talk to the twins and attempt to mend the issues between them. Jazz knew why Prowl, who was usually confident enough in what decisions he took, was so hesitant about the issue. Prowl had resigned to live his life being hated or disowned by his sons.

Prowl was perfectly aware of the terrible price Sunstreaker and Sideswipe paid in the war and the secret they had to keep. He knew well the state of Sunstreaker's mind, the weight Sideswipe carried by becoming his twin's only support. He had become used to that, to know Sunstreaker blamed him exclusively for their lives going to the pit, and Prowl would admit to himself to be afraid of doing more harm than good with anything he could say. He'd rather live with his sons hating him than cause them any more damage than he'd already do.

Jazz would have none of it, however, and pressed for his bonded to speak with their sons, to try to bridge the chasm between them, to show them he did care, and because he cared he did what he thought was necessary to protect them. Still hesitant and afraid, Prowl accepted to have a meeting with the twins, passing it as another dressing down to Sideswipe and dragging Sunstreaker along to avoid suspicions.

Sideswipe seemed amiable enough once Jazz explained the real purpose of their meeting, seemingly happy to see his parents becoming more like they used to be. Sunstreaker, though, was a completely different issue. If glares could kill, Jazz was certain his bondmate would have been deactivated a few clicks after the golden twin entered the office. The saboteur could only hope some progress could be achieved during the meeting.

"I don't know why you bothered to call us here," Sunstreaker spat petulantly, although he, too could see there was a definitive change in his parents and was happy to see his parents, specially Jazz looking alive once again, but his anger towards everything, and particularly Prowl, prevented him from even attempting to be cordial with him.

"Sun, at least allow them to explain themselves," Sideswipe chided his brother gently, reaching to take his hand and squeeze it in a reassuring gesture. Jazz nodded with a little smile of approval towards Sideswipe. The visored mech nudged his mate gently to prompt him to talk. "I know you are both... upset about the decision I took to eliminate all information regarding our relationship with you from your records when Sentinel Prime was deactivated.

"Upset?" Sunstreaker snarled.

"I think the word you're looking for is hurt and betrayed, Prowl, Sir," Sideswipe couldn't help the chilly tone.

Prowl's shoulders sagged a little but nodded his agreement. "Yes, hurt and betrayed," he paused trying to gather his thoughts. "I understand why you feel this way, and there's nothing I can say to justify my actions other than assure you I felt at that moment it was the best thing I could do to ensure you'd be fine."

"But we weren't fine, now were we?" Sunstreaker interrupted again.

"No, you weren't." Prowl agreed, feeling Jazz's hand on his shoulder squeezing softly, he felt his mate probe their bond gently before he projected a wave of reassurance towards him. "I didn't consider any other potential consequences at the time. I didn't consider any other variables. At the time all I cared about was to make sure the Decepticons wouldn't find out about my children so they wouldn't target them in hopes to get to me."

"And whose fault is that?" Sunstreaker snarled again.

Prowl's optics narrowed as he looked at his oldest. "I don't remember ever denying this is my fault, but I won't have anyone, not even you, Sunstreaker, question my choices prior to that moment."

"If you had never become an enforcer--"

"If I had never become an enforcer you wouldn't be here." Prowl stood up, surprising Jazz who had to duck to avoid his bonded's wing. "If I had never become an enforcer I wouldn't have met your carrier, and the two of you would have never been created. So no, Sunstreaker, I do not regret any of the decisions that led me to the position I held at that point."

Sunstreaker's optics widened as did Sideswipe's. Despite the calm still present in their father's voice the passion and strength in his words was almost palpable, a sure sign of how strongly the other mech felt about his choices and his confidence in them.

"I am sorry the circumstances led me to take a decision that I won't deny hurt you. But I will never regret what and who I was back then." Prowl felt Jazz wrap his arms around his waist, leaning silently against him in a comforting gesture. Although Jazz didn't approve his actions either, he did not blame him for doing what he thought was best at the moment. "Do you not think it pained me to do it? That I didn't know you both could harbor resentment towards me for taking that decision without your consent?"

"You didn't exactly show much regret or concern about our thoughts on the matter at the time, though." Sideswipe pointed out, knowing already at the time something had changed his father for the worse.

Prowl nodded absently, bringing a hand to rest atop Jazz's on his midsection. "By the time all that was revealed to you I wasn't the same mech anymore. I felt my actions justified, specially after Shockwave's betrayal."

"If ya father hadn't altered the records when he did, after Shockwave betrayed us he could have had access t'information about the two of ya," Jazz spoke for the first time, cheek still pressed against Prowl's shoulder plate. "Things became a little more personal once Shockwave joined the Decepticons. I have no doubts he would have tried to use ya both against us if he had known who you two were."

"Didn't he know you two had twin sons?" Sunstreaker asked.

"He did." Prowl nodded, his fingers stroking absently along Jazz's black hand. A gesture that wasn't lost to the two younger mechs. "He knew we sired twins, but he didn't know who you two were. We never mentioned your names with anyone other than a select few."

"Red Alert an' Blaster," Jazz piped in. "Everyone else jus' knew we had twin sons but nothin' specific."

"Shockwave would have searched for any twins and try to associate them with you, wouldn't he?" Sideswipe asked, beginning to realize just how complex their parents official life had been in regards to their family.

"He would, and that's why I erased all traces of our relationship with you two as soon as I became the acting leader of the security forces. Although at the time I only thought about protecting you both from the Decepticons at large. I never imagined someone we worked with so closely could have used that information against us." Prowl paused and looked up, as if gathering his thoughts. "Instead, I searched through the records and forged connections with a pair of twins recently deactivated, victims of the revolt in Kaon."

"After Prowl changed the records, we agreed ta pretend to be unaware of the fate of our sons, which wasn't too hard to pull given the state of chaos in which we were currently workin'." Jazz sighed softly. "We were handlin' so much at the same time from all fronts. An' information comin' to us was chaotic at best, so we were able to pull the act."

"I advised Jazz against contacting you both during the first few cycles of the revolt. It was indispensable that we pretended to be too busy and in such chaos and disorganization, we couldn't afford to let anyone see us contacting any of you." Prowl looked back at his sons, locking his gaze with Sideswipe before turning to Sunstreaker, who had become eerily quiet. "Then Shockwave turned against us, and the attack to Praxus occurred."

"That's what did it, isn't it?" Sideswipe asked, his voice was solemn, and subdued. "That's when you changed."

Prowl nodded and heaved a long, weary sigh. "He warned me if I let my emotions and ethics get in the way, I would fail in my mission to protect everyone in Cybertron."

"And you turned exactly in what he hoped you'd become." Sunstreaker spoke, his voice full of anger, but not entirely directed towards his father this time.

"After what happened in Praxus I felt he was right, and that I could not afford to let anything become an obstacle to defend what I swore to protect."

"You closed yourself off." Sideswipe pointed out sadly.

"I did." Prowl agreed.

"So that's why you changed so much. That's why you became so cold... and indifferent." Sunstreaker muttered softly, the usual depth and anger in his voice all but gone, now the young mech sounded almost like a sparkling.

Prowl removed Jazz's arms from around his waist gently, and the saboteur stepped aside, allowing his mate to move around the desk to approach his son, without a word Prowl bent a little and wrapped his arms around the golden twin's shoulders, trapping him in the seat. "I'm sorry, Sunshine," Prowl murmured and pressed an apologetic kiss to the small crest of Sunstreaker's helm.

Sideswipe watched his brother grip the arm rests so hard he imprinted his fingers into the material, his dental plates clenched so tightly as he fought the tsunami of emotions the tender tone of their father's voice and affectionate name created. Sunstreaker sobbed, fighting with himself to reign his emotions.

"It's okay to let it go, Sunstreaker," Prowl murmured as he held his son a little tighter, smiling sadly when the quivering sobs became soft cries and the tears splashed against his hands.

Sideswipe looked away, fighting back his own barrage of emotions, trying to send all his comfort to his brother through their bond, knowing his parents were probably doing the same. He knew all too well why his brother had plunged into the antisocial and aggressive mech he had become. Although both of them loved their parents very much and knew themselves loved in equal measure without one being favored over the other, Sunstreaker always shared something with Prowl that Jazz could never provide. To see Prowl become so closed off, cold and seemingly indifferent to everyone else's emotions was a harder blow for his twin brother.

Jazz smiled sadly, watching Sideswipe look away, he knew Sunstreaker wasn't the only one hurt so deeply by the chain of events that teared their family apart. He followed his mate's lead and moved to wrap Sideswipe in a tight and comforting hug. "Yer not alone, Swipe," Jazz murmured gently, nuzzling the black helm that was similar to his own. Jazz knew Sideswipe, despite being the younger of the pair was the one forced to grow up faster and become responsible of his own twin as Sunstreaker allowed himself to fall deeper and deeper into his anger and depression, sustaining them for the most part, and doing whatever it took to keep his brother afloat. Despite the casual contact Jazz still maintained with them before they joined the Autobots, the saboteur had to maintain a distance for their security, which left Sideswipe feeling lonely.

Just as Sunstreaker shared something special with Prowl, Sideswipe always felt himself a little closer to Jazz. But unlike Sunstreaker, who had his twin to hold him and keep him going, Sideswipe couldn't rely on his brother to do the same to him. He didn't blame Sunstreaker, he loved him and knew his brother was in no mental state to offer back the comfort he needed. It was what prompted him to become problematic and act like a sparkling starved for affection or attention, no matter the nature of that attention.

Sideswipe smiled sadly, wrapping his hands around Jazz's arms that held him tightly. "I miss you both," the red twin murmured, barely above a whisper. Jazz held him tighter, kissing the crest of his own helm. "I know, Swipe. I've missed you both so much, too. Ya have no idea how badly I wish I could hold the two of ya in the mess hall and cry ta the world yer my sparklin's."

"What happens now?" Sideswipe powered down his optics, basking in the love he felt in his spark flowing freely from Jazz's spark, fighting back his own tears as he felt a hard but not unpleasant wave of affection coming from his twin, giving up altogether in holding them back as he felt Prowl's quieter but no less strong wave of love and affection. He wished they could remain that way forever, it was the way it was supposed to be.

"We cannot reveal our relationship with you yet," Prowl murmured regretfully. "After all this time and given the circumstances, we'd be placing a target on your heads if we did."

Both twins nodded in agreement, still relishing in the feeling of being a family again, of being complete.

Jazz hugged Sideswipe a little tighter before releasing his son, nudging him to get up. "But we can work somethin' out. Our sparks won't ever be closed ta the two of ya ever again."

"We'll find a plausible way," Prowl assured, prompting Sunstreaker to stand up. "We've given up too much into this war, but not anymore."

Prowl and Jazz held their sons and each other, all four embracing like they did when the twins were younglings and sparklings. There was too much hurt and damage that needed healing between the four of them, and they wouldn't be able to be a family again until the war ended, but until then they'd make due, promising to each other they'd become a family once again in the future, no matter what.

Chapter Text

Title: Paint Streaks. (37/37)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy goodness. Violence. Fluff.
Pairings: Implied Blaster x Tracks, Inferno x Red Alert. Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Optimus Prime, Blaster, Ultra Magnus.
Summary: Prowl is a very careful observer of many things, and few details ever escape him. He puts that ability to good use, and Jazz discovers that use was not the one he could have expected.
Notes: Even more time warping on this one. I didn't want to reproduce exactly the scenes from "More than meets the eye" so plenty of the dialogue is different but the basic gist is the same. Also, the scene at the very bottom is partly copied from a drabble snugsbunny wrote for me, and the one reason why this fic came to be. All the borrowed dialogue is used with her permission. That's the 'scene' that started it all. I hope you like it bun bun.

Sometimes even Optimus Prime didn't know how he managed to keep his hope and faith about a possible end to the war -- If it could even be called a war anymore. What once began as strikes and counter strikes in order to establish or stop a new order, became a stalemate in which both sides stopped fighting for a clear ideal, and instead it had become a battle for the extermination of the other faction. They had seen the darkest of times back then, a moment where it seemed an end would never be on sight.

But as it was to be expected in a war that had lasted millennia, their planet begun to pay the price of their continuous fighting. Cybertron was dying, there was no question about that. The planet was producing so little energon now that harvesting it had become a paramount concern for both factions, and their battles had become skirmishes in order to gain some energon from the enemy's hands, the decay of their species was more evident than ever, if one side would become victorious now it would be solely based on who would fall offline from starvation. Prime refused to allow his soldiers --his friends; to be the ones falling.

They had begun stealing the energon the Decepticons were still capable of harvesting, scourging as much as they could get, giving up all attempts to harvest energon on their own. The fuel was intended to be used to power the new vessel they had constructed, hoping to take to the stars in search for a place to acquire energon peacefully in hopes to finally end this war and nurse their home planet back to health.

This was a critical cycle for everyone among the Autobots. Several small teams had been sent to scourge as much energon and power cells as they could from Decepticon strongholds to help power up the ship without consuming what reserves they had left for their base. Ultra Magnus was assigned to take command during Prime's absence, and a select team had been put together to become the crew of the new ship, the Ark.

"Prowl, do we have a report from Jazz, yet?" Optimus Prime turned to his tactician and second in command.

"He's due to return in less than six breems, sir. He hasn't sent a detailed report of the situation yet," Prowl replied as he read through the data pad in his hands, going through the last details prior to the launch of the vessel for the umpteenth time.

Prime turned a look of concern and dread to the chevroned mech. "I'm sure you have some information you can share with me until Jazz is here."

Prowl refused to look up from his pad, keeping himself busy to avoid thinking on the implications of what Jazz had been able to share with him through their bond. "It doesn't look good, sir. He said he'd give us more details upon his arrival, but it seems Cybertron is truly on the verge of death."

Prime brought a hand to his face plates, rubbing tiredly. "Perceptor did tell us the planet was in bad shape. Is the deterioration truly that advanced?"

"All Jazz could share with me was that he was walking on dead ground during his investigation. It's... unlikely that sector can produce any more energon, Prime." The chevroned black and white mech placed a hand on his leader's arm, as he couldn't reach a shoulder of the tall mech.

Prime nodded and turned to the smaller mech, a look of determination adorned his face. "We must find energon and soon. I fear Cybertron won't last much longer and we'll all perish shortly after."

Prowl presented a second pad to Optimus Prime, highlighting several coordinates in the document. "The science team has determined a few promising prospects where Energon could be found or produced through our harvesting technology." Prowl summoned a screen displaying a series of maps and charts. "The planets here, here, and here seem to be the most adequate to fulfill our needs. They are large enough and seem to contain sufficient resources to give us at least a kick start. Unfortunately, we're not certain the planet's resources are renewable or apt enough to withstand a continuous drain of energy to transform it into energon. If there's sentient life in any of those planets, we could very well endanger their survival if we harvest energon exclusively from one single planet for extended periods of time."

"In other words, we don't know if such planets can sustain us through a war." Prime rubbed his chin in thought. "Are these our only options?"

"No, sir." Prowl changed the charts again to show planets further away from Cybertron. "There's other candidates further away, however, that obviously implies a longer time frame to reach them."

Prime nodded. "What do you suggest?"

"We can begin with a tentative exploration of this planet." The tactician pointed at the coordinates for the planet in the chart. "We can perform a quick study to determinate if the planet can suit our needs without it being detrimental for itself or any life it could be housing. If it's not, we can harvest enough energon to sustain us and provide some reserves and make our way onto the next planet."

Prime quirked an optic ridge. "So basically an exploration mission."

"I think that's what this whole operation was from the very beginning, sir." Prowl's lip components began to curve into a smirk when he stiffened suddenly, casting a somber glance at his leader. "Jazz is back, Prime."

The two Autobots left Prime's office, striding to the hanger where they would meet with the special operations agent. "Jazz, I'm glad to see you've made it back safe and sound. Report, please."

Jazz saluted quickly as the platform elevated him to the hangar. "Not good I'm afraid, it's all dead over that sector, not a drop of energon could be squeezed out of Cybertron there."

Prime nodded solemnly. "It's decided then. Prepare to embark, we'll take off in two joors."

"Sir!" both black and white mechs stood to attention before rushing out of the hangar to hone the last details before the ship would leave the planet.

Prime watched the pair go turning then to give a long look at the vessel. "Primus, give us some luck in this endeavor. We're really going to need it."

------------------

"Ya sure this is a good idea?" Jazz asked as he skimmed through the list of the crew that would be on board of the Ark, frowning deeply at the names of his twin sons.

"We're going to need all the assistance we can get, and you know they are the best frontline warriors we have." Prowl sorted through the few belongings he still possessed, preparing for the trip.

"Yeah, but it's goin' ta be dangerous, I can't help but worry." Jazz shook his head and subspaced the pad, moving about the room to collect his personal effects, leaving behind anything that wasn't strictly necessary.

"They would be in as much danger here, if not more, than in the Ark with us in strange planets." Prowl finished his own preparations and moved to help Jazz. "At least we'll be able to keep an optic on them."

Jazz quirked an optic ridge behind his visor. "That's the real reason ya put 'em on the crew list, ain't it?"

Prowl smirked as he collected items he deemed Jazz would need or would like to take along. "Do you want the official 'Prowl tactical officer' answer or the 'bondmate Prowl' answer?"

Jazz chuckled and shook his head. "Just spill it."

"While I am being honest about them being our best frontline warriors and their services would be valuable for the rest of the crew, I will admit to a more selfish reason behind their selection." Prowl paused showing a few items to Jazz, awaiting instructions on what items to discard and which to move into the pile of items to be take along. "I don't know how long this mission will extend for, and how long the reserves we're leaving here will last. If we find at least some energon somewhere else to keep us going, I'd much rather have my bonded and sons fueled and under the shelter of our vessel."

Jazz nodded, he couldn't say he blamed Prowl. He wasn't keen in leaving so many friends and comrades behind, such as Blaster, Tracks, and Steeljaw, but if given the chance to ensure at least the security of knowing of their children's fate, he would have done the same. "I jus' hope something good comes from this. For everyone's sake."

Prowl nodded his agreement as they finished collecting their belongings, leaving behind the room that had been theirs for so many vorns now, both wondering if they'd ever see them again.

With half a joor left for the lift off, Prowl and Jazz stood by Optimus Prime, who addressed both, the troops that would remain in Cybertron and the team that would leave in the Ark. "I don't have to remind you all of what's at stake with this mission. The situation is becoming critical, and I fear we must turn great efforts into solving this conflict once and for all, and heal our mangled planet."

Both groups of mechs nodded their agreement, knowing now the power to tip the scale in their favor was in finding energon. Ultra Magnus stepped forward, saluting the Prime before offering his hand at his commander and friend. "Have a safe trip, Optimus. We'll hold the lines here."

Optimus Prime shook his friend's hand, pulling him into a gentle hug, uncaring of his friend's mild embarrassment. "Be safe, my friend. Do not give up, no matter how long it takes, we'll restore our home to its former glory."

Magnus stepped back, smiling in reassurance before he sobered, saluting his Prime. "Till all are one!"

All mechs in the hangar saluted. "Till all are one!" with that, Optimus Prime turned and marched into the vessel with his officers and crew on tow. Blaster gave Jazz a thumbs up, wishing him good luck.

"We'll see them again," Prowl murmured as the doors closed, leading his bonded to take their positions for the launch.

-----------------------

If Jazz had any hopes this would be an uneventful launch and initial trip, they had been quickly shot down by the apparition of the Decepticon ship, the Nemesis, and the impromptu chase they engaged in.

Everything was a blur, and he could barely process most of what was going on. He was vaguely aware of himself, of the Decepticon he and other Autobots were currently wrestling, trying to keep him away from the control panels. He could hear Prime and Megatron alike barking orders, the familiar cries of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as they did their best to counter the seemingly endless barrage of Decepticons coming at them.

The chaos crated by the brawl distracted them all from the other dangers cast upon them by the unforgiving space, beating against both ships reminding all too late to all combatants of where they were. Both ships lost their course, plunging them at a merciless rate towards the unknown planet that appeared in the monitors, threatening to engulf them all.

The outer armor of the ships heated up in their frantic descend, shaking and rattling until the Nemesis separated itself from the Ark. Jazz struggled to keep what footing he could muster, trying to reach the controls to steer the ship. Decepticons and Autobots screamer and cried alike, their fight all but forgotten as they realized they were plunging towards almost certain death. As the ship crashed into the unknown planet, and unconsciousness claimed him, the last thing Jazz could hear was Prowl's panicked cry, calling his name, before the bond turned silent, and the world was no more.

---------------------

Just as their descent into the unknown planet had been chaotic, the awakening, at least for the Autobots, had been far from pleasant. They found themselves reconfigured by their main computer, Teletraan 1, adopting the guise of local vehicles in order to blend in. Later on, Jazz would have questioned how much he could blend as a racing vehicle for an specialized circuit, but at the moment of their awakening they had only one concern: the Decepticons.

It didn't take long for their questions to find answers, as local transmissions provided them with information of their enemies' antics. They had little time to consider anything other than the Decepticons were endangering whatever sentient life inhabited the planet, and set out to stop their enemies.

They had to adapt quickly to the initial challenges this new planet presented to them. They weren't ignorant to the existence and challenges of organic planets such as this, but that didn't mean they were prepared to face important changes in the way they functioned or maneuvered. Urgency and necessity were powerful motivators and accomplished teachers, but even Jazz admitted his first rolls on tires had not been the most elegant and stylish in his repertoire. Surely he wasn't foreign to tires, Prime had them after all, but he wasn't used to use them to traverse. As a hovercraft kind of vehicle, Jazz found the constant touch against the planet's ground a little unnerving to say the least.

Regardless, they were forced to learn and adapt quickly in order to pursue and stop the Decepticons, having their first brush with the local dominant species. They were tiny, and frail, and although they were pretty primitive compared to the Cybertronians, it was easy to see the potential they had.

The first days in the chasing game with the Decepticons had all the Autobots in alert, they didn't relax in the slightest and Jazz spent more time scouting and assimilating information to adapt to their new surroundings than in the Ark or with his bondmate and children. Nobody cared at that moment about anything but to find their enemies and put them out of commission in order to salvage the planet they were all currently stuck in.

Even Prowl was too deep into his work to allow himself time to recharge, let alone miss Jazz. Those first few days had been a learning experience, but were also frantic, the Decepticons seemed to never stop moving, they could travel so easily through the planet, and keeping up with them was a titanic effort. The fact the planet had proven to be extremely rich in renewable resources that could be converted into Energon had been pleasant but also worrisome news. Megatron would undoubtedly try to return to Cybertron with this information and surely attempt conquest of the planet they had come to know as Earth to power his army and win the war.

It had been this knowledge what forced the Autobots to go all out on the Decepticons in what would become an ultimate battle for the salvation not only of Cybertron but also of the planet Earth. Everything seemed lost when the rebuilt Nemesis rose towards the atmosphere, and even Optimus Prime's desperate attempts to pursue it had proven ineffective.

Just when despair began to set in their sparks and fear for what the future would bring once Megatron reached Cybertron began to sink in, the Decepticon vessel was enshrouded in smoke, plunging towards the blue ocean. No one, no Autobot or human could hold back the cries of victory and joy as they realized their enemies had crashed against the ocean, possibly meeting their own demise. Mirage was cheered as a hero by everyone, feeling for the first time in vorns the end of the war was close.

It was under this optimistic, ecstatic state of mind that the Autobots celebrated for the first time in such a long time. A true celebration full of joy, of optimism, and hope. They had the time now to take in the little and not so little things that their arrival to this planet had brought about. They could finally savor the energon produced in this planet, feel sated rather than keep their systems running on the minimum necessary to operate at satisfactory enough levels.

The impromptu party that begun shortly after their return to the buried ship that served as base of operations allowed all mechs to unwind. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe laughed, drank energon and produced the first of many decanters of high grade, inebriating themselves far too much for Prowl's taste, but he didn't raise any objections. It was indeed a time for celebration, and he wasn't going to deny his children that pleasure. He savored his own cube of high grade, trying to remember the last time he'd drunk any. It was not the highest quality, it hadn't been refined enough and was still a little too gritty and quite bitter, but he didn't feel in a position to complain.

Prowl allowed himself to survey the room. Bumblebee was sitting with Spike, one of their new human allies, talking about only Primus knew what. Wheeljack and Ratchet talked with Sparkplug, Spike's sire, and he could hear them sharing tales about mechanical works. Optimus Prime was among them, talking with Ironhide and Trailbreaker, sharing old tales with the occasional question about the repairs the ship needed in order to take flight again and return them to Cybertron.

It was now that he had these moments when peace for their kind seemed within reach, that Prowl pondered the state of their home planet. By the local standards, they had spent four millions of solar cycles offline. Even for Cybertronian standards that was still a very long time. Were Ultra Magnus and his unit all right? Was Cybertron still hanging onto life? There was a certain urgency to manage contact back with their home planet, but all thoughts he could have had about the well being of his comrades and home were quickly swept away by an invasion into his spark.

Prowl turned his optics to one of the mechs sitting around one of the larger tables in the recreation room, the absolute happiness and Joy Jazz was feeling at that moment was projected unconsciously through their bond. It had been an unexpected but welcomed intrusion as the tactician felt his mate's joy within his spark, another reassurance that things were finally looking up with more certainty than ever.

The little smile that curved his lip components was quickly hid by the cube of energon while he took a sip. Prowl's optics surveyed the frame of his bondmate, finally taking in on how Teletraan had changed them all. Jazz was sitting on a stool, which exposed all of his back for Prowl's avid optics. He had become a little bulkier, just as Prowl had, when the main computer reconfigured his body and armor plates into the local vehicles.

Despite the changes suffered to fit with the local vehicles, Prowl couldn't find anything about the saboteur's new shape that displeased him. In fact, he found Jazz was as attractive as ever, and this new shape, although strange and admittedly a little alien given the aesthetics of the human vehicles, was intriguing and fascinating -- dare he say... alluring?

There weren't that many changes in reality, but it was still different enough to be novel, and he couldn't help but think about running his hands along Jazz's chest, feel the new curves and angles that comprised his armor plates. The glass panels he could see faintly from his position, driving attention to those gorgeous hips.

He realized a little too late he was perhaps projecting his thoughts and the growing longing through the bond, as Jazz looked at him over his shoulder, his visor glowed brightly and a knowing smile spread over those delectable lips of his. Prowl couldn't find it in himself to feel embarrassed. At that moment he was an open book for Jazz to read, allowing his bondmate to see he found him as attractive and desirable as ever, and that yes, he would very much like to known his new body as intimately as he could get away with.

Jazz's smile grew wider, that beautiful, joyful smile that Prowl always considered could brighten any gloomy room. The saboteur turned around long enough to excuse himself from his table, few of his conversation partners paid much attention as Jazz left the room, his stride could be described as nothing other than sultry. Jazz knew what Prowl wanted, he wanted it, too, and was determined to give his bonded proper encouragement.

Sunstreaker, although inebriated by now, caught a glance of his father casually slipping out of the room a couple of minutes after Jazz, and smirked to himself. In many aspects, the golden warrior surmised his parents were very much like younglings in love, and he liked it that way.

By the time Prowl reached the quarters neither he or Jazz had the opportunity to share properly prior to this day, the saboteur was sprawled on the wide berth, a knee drawn up as he rested his head on his arms. Jazz turned his attention to his bondmate as Prowl stepped inside, casually hitting the lock. "Hey, lover," Jazz murmured, smiling placidly as the blue optics of his mate darkened, appraising his body hungrily.

Prowl wasn't aware of the way his bigger sensory panels rose to frame his head as he stalked towards his bondmate in a predatory stride. Jazz however, couldn't help the finite, delighted shudder running through his frame at the sight, the absolute passion within his mate that would be no doubt unleashed very soon.

Although they had managed to squeeze time into their tight and frantic schedules to spend time together prior to the beginning of this fateful mission, Jazz would be the first to admit it had always felt a little rushed, the urgency and worry that something could come up and interrupt them was always there. They did enjoy themselves and their mutual closeness, those few moments when they could be one as their sparks merged were a glorious reprieve that kept them going. This time however, promised to be different, not only because of the newness of their shapes but because right now they had all the time in the world. No worries about the next attack, no frantic joining of their sparks to give Jazz that little boost of confidence and affection before leaving for a mission. There was a promise in this first joining in this planet -- one of many more to come if Jazz could have his way. There was joy and hope, and a physical but also spiritual reaffirmation of a love that had survived through thick and thin.

Their lips met in a kiss, chaste at first, but soon soft little kisses became lingering, a little hungrier, a little more teasing. Their hands moved around lazily, exploring reformed armor plates, taking their sweet time to find new sweet places while re-acquainting with well known ones. They took their time, exploring thoroughly, slowly, almost too deliriously slowly driving each other into that yearned frenzy.

It was a little surreal, the experience felt so novel despite how many times they had mapped each other's body, how intimately knowledgeable they were of one another, and not only because of their modified frames. It felt just like the first time they made love, so long ago, and yet it was like coming home after being away for a long time.

As their overloads approached, chests pressed together as their essences became one, whatever part of his CPU still not fully claimed by the torrent of sensation and intoxicating presence of his bonded within himself, Prowl looked at Jazz's face, watching that beautiful face contort in the sweetest agony of ecstasy. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Jazz's face as he climaxed, in fact, it was almost the same expression Jazz bore the first time the made love, and just like that time, the image ingrained itself into his processor and spark.

They laid together on their berth, holding each other close as their bodies began to cool down, legs wrapped loosely around each others as soft sounds of systems reaching their usual operating conditions filled the quiet room. They needed to speak no words, their sparks had done all the talking necessary. Still, Jazz felt there was something that merited always to be spoken. "I love you," he whispered against his bonded's chevron.

Prowl smiled, his head happily nestled against the crook of Jazz's neck, tightening his hold on the saboteur. "I love you, too, Jazz."

It was with a content and sated sigh that Jazz pressed closer to his beloved tactician, finally surrendering himself to the lull of recharge, feeling safe and peaceful in his bondmate's arms. Prowl though, couldn't give into recharge despite his own energy expenditure, he felt restless, despite feeling so content. It was a sensation he hadn't experienced in such a long time, and he wished he had a drawing pad at hand at that moment. That realization struck him hard, having gone for so long without the desire to draw anything, giving up his artwork all together when Praxus was destroyed.

He pushed away from his recharging mate just a bit, looking into Jazz's peaceful visage as a myriad of emotions coursed through his being, unsure of which one held dominance over him. He was naturally surprised at this new urge to draw, concerned about what implications this could bring, scared about that old part of himself that he wasn't sure he could handle again. The agitation within his spark was suddenly soothed by Jazz's affection, unconsciously projected into him by his recharging mate.

Prowl smiled down at Jazz, whispering a soft thank you against his helm as he settled against him, feeling at peace now thanks to the gentle presence within his spark. He issued a reminder to himself to inquire something to Sunstreaker in the morning before he followed Jazz into a welcomed recharge.

---------------------

"I want a copy of this," Jazz smiled as he wrapped his arms around Prowl's neck, resting his chest against his bonded's roof, mindful of the door wing panels.

"Why would you want one?" Prowl asked without looking away from the large spare sheet of metal Sunstreaker had provided him with. He dabbed the paint brush into the can of paint, acquiring a generous amount of that he stroked freely over a patch of bright blue, adding shadows, highlights and reflections on the familiar visor.

Without fully letting go of the tactician, Jazz brought his hand up, counting on his fingers. "One, because it's the first time you've painted somethin' in forever. And because I like ta see the way I look through my bondmate's optics." Jazz sighed contently, delighted beyond words to see the chevroned mech painting again. "It's still hard t'accept I look that good t'ya."

"You know you're good looking, Jazz," Prowl chided but smiled as he traced the glass reflections on the visor delicately. He himself was surprised at how naturally everything came back to him, as if he had never stopped drawing and painting.

"I know I ain't hard on the optics." Jazz kissed the back of Prowl's helm, watching him work on the painting and the almost tender way with which he handled the detailing of his painting. "But the way ya paint me... it's hard ta believe you think I'm like that."

Prowl smiled. "I only paint what I see."

"I still want a copy."

"Fine, I'll sketch a copy for you when this one's finished." Prowl surrendered to his mate's wishes and picked a different brush, gathering a different color to shade the rest of Jazz's face.

Jazz watched his mate painting in silence for a while, until a thought crossed his processors, bringing a frown to his face. "Though, if someone else sees that, I think they'll gonna start thinkin' I'm havin' an affair with Sunstreaker."

Prowl stopped mid stroke and pulled the brush away to look back at his mate. "Why would someone think such a thing?"

Jazz sighed and pointed back at the drawing. "I think any mech with workin' optics will get that's me goin' through one pit of an overload in that picture."

"Ah." Prowl frowned and looked back at his painting, there was no doubt that Jazz was most definitely lost in the throes of overload in his painting, that beautiful image of his bonded experiencing that first climax on this new planet he had transferred from his memory into a canvas.

"They don't know 'bout your ability, lover, an' this painting's definitely intimate. They'll either think ya let Sunshine watch us or that he's been with me."

Prowl shrugged. "Let them draw their own conclusions."

"Ya don't mind?" Jazz gasped, unsure what to think about Prowl's apparent lack of concern about the blow that could be dealt to his and Sunstreaker's reputation.

"We know the truth, do we not?" Prowl shrugged. "If they have anything to say about my bondmate's behavior they can take that to me. They'll have to come to terms with this picture being displayed in my office."

Jazz quirked an optic ridge, gaping in shock at Prowl's recent declaration. "Ya seriously gonna display the paintin' there?"

"Why not?" Prowl turned to smirk at the visored mech before going back to his painting. "I believe I have every right to have a portrait of my beloved where I can see him any time I want. Specially the way I like to see him the most."

Jazz could have sworn Prowl was leering at him as he spoke, but he couldn't tell from his position behind Prowl in between his wings. "How come I don't get an erotic paintin' of you, huh?"

Prowl hummed. "You have to earn that, Jazz."

The saboteur chuckled and wrapped his arms back around Prowl's neck, pressing a kiss to the top of his helm. "Cheeky."

----------------------

When Cliffjumper barged into his office that day, Prowl had not been expecting the rant that followed almost as soon as the red mini bot had managed to squeeze himself through his still opening doors.

"Why the frag do you allow this to go on?" Cliffjumper accused, visibly distraught about whatever it was he was talking about.

Prowl set down neatly the work he had been engrossed with, turning his attention fully towards the mini bot, his expression denoting his confusion.

Realizing Prowl didn't know what he was talking about, Cliffjumper elaborated. "That drawing of Jazz he has on the wall of his office. It's wrong!"

Prowl quirked an optic ridge, he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the angry ranting of the red Porsche.

"Sunstreaker as an artist is very good, but to allow him to sketch that, well, Prowl, it can only mean Sunstreaker and Jazz have been doing things behind..." Cliffjumper trailed, giving his superior officer an odd look once he realized Prowl wore a dreamy smile on his face plates. He was almost afraid to ask what was wrong with Prowl and why he wasn't taking this issue as seriously as he should. This was his bondmate interfacing with another mech, one that was young enough to be his offspring!

Seeing the confusion on the mini bots face, Prowl raised a hand, pointing to a spot behind Cliffjumper's shoulder. The mech turned and Prowl had to admit to himself the shocked gasp coming from the mini bot was oddly satisfactory. "The sketch Jazz has on his wall is merely a copy of the original."

The pronounced revving of Cliffjumper's engine upon looking at the painting of Jazz's face in the throes of overload had Prowl frowning a little. "For future reference I think you should note Sunstreaker did not paint this."

Cliffjumper's head whipped around to stare at Prowl, beginning to put things together in his CPU. If Sunstreaker wasn't responsible for the painting, and it was a depiction of Jazz in overload... "You!"

"If that's all, Cliffjumper, I believe you have patrol duty in a few minutes." Prowl dismissed the mini bot, choosing not to deny or acknowledge any assumption the red mech could have made about the painting with the new information. He returned to his work, though after a few minutes he reached Jazz through their bond. 'You were right. They think you're having an affair with Sunstreaker.'

He felt the amusement flowing into his spark from his mate. 'Ya know, one o' these days ya gonna have t'tell 'em just who taught Sunshine to draw.'

Prowl laughed into the empty room, sharing a memory with his bonded --a memory from a long time ago where he sat on the floor of their living unit, a little golden sparkling sitting down on his lap as he taught him to draw while a red sparkling made sweet treats on a counter top with Jazz.

...THE END?