Jazzing It Up

by TerminallyCagey

Summary:

Jazz travels a lot for his work, and for the most part it's pretty great! He meets a lot of cool people, and gets to experience some great festivals and parties. He never used to have a favourite city state either, they all had their interesting sides, but lately he's been drawn to Praxus and the overworked, under appreciated enforcer, Prowl.

Notes:

It's not on time at all, but I wanted to do the Jazz week prompts this year no matter what since I missed it last year!

Day 1: Mirrors

edit 09/22/24: did a bit of editing, added a few things

Chapter 1

Summary:

Jazz week one month late!

Notes:

will edit later, sleepy now.

There was an Enforcer in Jazz’s rearview mirror, and he was livid . Jazz laughed, wild and joyful, as he sped down the highway, slowly widening the gap between him and his pursuer. He’d been looking for a last bit of fun on his off day, after all it was the end of his stay in Praxus and he’d have to head back to Iacon soon, so why not go a little wild? 

 

Enjoy the company of this insanely prickly bot that Jazz was actually starting to become a bit fond of. Give Prowl a goodbye to remember, haha! It wasn’t really a fair race, all things considered, all Jazz had to do was be small and fast enough to keep ahead on the packed city roads. 

 

As long as he made it to the point where the highway went from “Praxus” to “Interstate Purgatory” Prowl would be out of his jurisdiction, and have no reason to continue his chase.

◈❖◈

Normally, Jazz wasn’t one to start trouble. 

 

Well. 

 

Not often, anyway. Did that time in Kaon with those little minibot twins even count? All they’d done was swap around some of the paint pail labels in the arena’s storage area… And he totally didn’t start that!

 

Okay, okay, so maybe he’d cause trouble once in a while, but he never did anything if he thought he’d be caught! Which was why he especially was careful when he was out working! Being one of Alpha Trion’s little searchers was a sweet gig, and it came with a lot of benefits, but it did not include a literal get-out-of-jail-free card. Usually.

 

Being a Cultural Investigator was a lot of fun! He traveled all over at no personal expense, had a free pass to go basically anywhere he desired, and got to take in all the rad new trends in music and art and social conventions and everything else wherever he went! The only thing he had to do was not get arrested, which would absolutely kill his career prospects.

 

So the Jazzmeister didn’t start trouble he couldn’t get out of.

 

This time, his assignment had been to attend a Science and Engineering convention in Praxus, and make notes on the presentations and presentees. That was all pretty interesting, but day one of the convention was over. Now he was bored and itching to do anything to relieve the restless energy, and that made him want to start trouble when he really shouldn’t!

Which led him to the here and now, where he had no work to do, no friends in Praxus who were free to hang out, and no good clubs to jive at. It was the start of the decacycle and everything that was any good as entertainment was closed until the next cycle!

Jazz didn’t want to go back to his hotel just yet, so he considered a nice brisk drive, but Praxus was overzealous with their speed limit enforcement, and fines were doubled for non-locals. Letting a great gust of air woosh from his vents, Jazz dropped his helm into his hands. 

 

Fine. He’d go for a walk. Maybe he’d find a nice place to have his evening cube.

 

It was nice outside the hotel at least and Jazz enjoyed the early evening ambiance as he slowly walked down the street. Crystals resonated and chimed softly in the small gardens tucked into building courtyards. The air was warm but not hot, and the walkway uncrowded.

 

A couple blocks further and Jazz had his attention grabbed by a nice, cozy looking cafe promising energon treats and quality energon and stimulant blends. Deciding to try his luck, Jazz went in. The barista was incredibly pleasant and sold Jazz on the house special — a bitter frothed energon blend — and a large type of energon goodie dusted with mica flakes and filled with a sweet mineral paste.

 

This was much better than sitting alone in his hotel. 

 

Jazz occupied himself with people watching and enjoying the cafe’s mellow music playing quietly from unobtrusive speakers for the next joor. He made a game of coming up with silly stories for mechs he didn’t know, or legit trying to guess their occupation from appearances alone. 

 

After that first joor, he noticed the one customer that had been there before him, and was still seated in a back corner. He hadn’t moved much, but server’s had come and gone from his table regularly.

 

The mech was black and white with a gleaming red chevron, wide doorwings, and a truly impressive bumper. He’d even be kind of handsome, Jazz thought, if he didn’t look so sour faced. The mech must have been working on something though, all his attention seemed focused on his datapad. 

 

Next to his elbow, there was a small stack of empty snack plates and two empty cubes precariously stacked on those with his current one forgotten and probably grown cold if the sadly deflated whip on top was anything to go by. Jazz’s first impression was that the mech was an enforcer, the frametype was a match, and so was the patterning of his paint. 

 

No visible decals though. 

 

Curiosity peaked, Jazz watched the mech for another couple breems, watching as digits worked quickly one moment, then stilled the next. He didn’t know why, but it was sort of endearing to watch. That’s what inspired him to approach the mech before he left the cafe.

 

“Hiya there, designation’s Jazz, seen ya over here working hard and ya got me curious, wan’ed ta come introduce myself. See what ya were up to, if ya don’ mind sharin’ that is.” Jazz said with his best winning smile. Orion said it made him look suspicious, but Jazz had never had a mech rebuff him after seeing The Smile, so Orion clearly just had no taste.

 

The mech didn’t respond at all and Jazz’s smile almost faltered briefly, but he pushed on. “Anyway, I —”

 

“No.” said the mech, not moving his optics away from his work.

 

Jazz was honestly a little stunned. “Sorry, what?”

 

“No, I do not want to discuss my work with you.” said the mech sharply, he hadn’t even looked up at Jazz once.

 

“Okay okay, ’s cool mech! I didn’ mean ta bother ya, was jus’ tryin’ t’ be friendly, ya know? It’s been a while since I was in town and all my friends are busy, wan’ed to make a new one’s all.” said Jazz, hands up in surrender and tone light, easy smile still in place. Yikes, what a tough crowd…

 

“I do not have the time for social interactions right now. I am on a deadline, so please, for the love of Primus, go find your entertainment elsewhere.” said the mech, a small frown starting to crease his brow.

 

Now that, that had no right to be so attractive! The mech was being pretty blunt, but he hadn’t said never, he’d said not right now . 

 

“Okay, I’ll leave ya be then, but could I at least get a designation? Seein’ as you know mine now.” Jazz asked as innocently as possible. It took the mech so long to reply, busy furiously typing away again, that Jazz thought maybe he was being ignored. Sighing quietly through his vents, Jazz was just about to turn and go back to his hotel when the other mech answered.

 

“My designation is Prowl. I am in the middle of completing some consultation work, and would very much appreciate it if you left me be, so that I may finish quickly.” 

 

Prowl, huh, fitting. The mech was built strong, looked like he was designed for endurance and pursuit. Jazz’s smile was wide and genuine.

 

“Ah! So you’re more than just a sour face after all. Well, was nice meetin’ you, Prowl! Hope to see you around!” said Jazz as he waved casually, and then left to go back to his hotel. 

 

Tonight was a bust, but not a total one, Prowl was interesting, and honestly, Jazz liked a challenge. He’d come back tomorrow, if he was lucky, the mech would be back and he could try again.

◈❖◈

The next time that Jazz met Prowl, it wasn’t at the cafe. He had just been leaving the convention center, when he caught a familiar frame talking to one of the day’s featured speakers, Scrapper. They looked to be enjoying whatever discussion they were having, and Jazz couldn’t help but think that the mech was much more handsome when he was relaxed and smiling a little. Deciding to take a chance, Jazz went over to the two of them.

 

“Hey, Scrapper! Nice presentation today, I really liked the sections on new alloys and structural integrity in artistically designed structures. Hi ta you too, Prowl, I didn’ know you two were buddies!”

 

Scrapper looked up and waved as he came up to the pair, Prowl’s expression didn't show anything, but his doorwings flicked curiosity. 

 

“Hey, Jazz, you better make sure those archivists get our names recorded right this time. Scavenger is still moping because people call him “Scourerger” after that bit from the last Crystal City summer festival.” said Scrapper sounding mildly exasperated, but looking amused.

 

“Really? I’ll get Orion to take a look at for you. Must have been a newbie doin’ the recordin’.” replied Jazz easily, then he turned his attention to Prowl. “Good to see you again mech, tried to catch you at the cafe again, but no luck, what’cha doin’ here though? I didn’t see your designation on the presentation itinerary.”

 

Shifting his weight to one leg and raising an arm in a dismissive gesture, Prowl answered, “I am not presenting, but I’m currently on my off cycle and had business with Scrapper. There were some interesting presentations scheduled too, so I decided to combine my objectives.”

 

Apparently Scrapper thought this was funny, given the genuine laugh Prowl’s answer pulled out of him. “Oh, yeah, I know he probably doesn’t look it, but Prowl here was an engineer, real upcoming star, in his younger days at least. Back before he decided that being an enforcer was more his speed. He still does consultations once in a while though, that’s what we were talking about before you showed up actually.”

 

Jazz was impressed, mech was an enforcer after all – where were his decals??? – and apparently a bit of a workaholic. Jeez, Jazz couldn’t imagine being a full time enforcer and an engineer as a side hustle. Jazz being a cultural investigator and (sometimes) a musician didn’t count! That was work and play that he sometimes got paid for if the cover made it easier to do his job. Totally different. 

 

“Well, if you mechs are talking business I can scram. Unless you wanna go grab a late midcycle cube and chat some more? Old Trion’d prob’ly appreciate it if you’re willing to give a little interview to go with the file they’ll be making for today’s presentations.” said Jazz, looking between his current company.

 

Prowl was already shaking his helm in the negative though. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay much longer. My off cycle will be over in a few joors and I have to get back to my hab before going to the station for my shift. We don’t have time to entertain this mech and finish discussing business, Scrapper.”

 

The big mech looked down sheepishly and rubbed his neck with one hand. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that boss, know you’re busy. We’re pretty much done though, I like your suggestions so far, but could you maybe try and find a way to make that weird mega window feature the customer wants more inline with their requirements? I know it’s an absolutely ridiculous shape, but if anyone can find a way to make that monstrosity structurally sound it’s definitely you. ”

 

Prowl nodded sharply. “Yes, I can. Is it alright if I give it to you at the end of the decacycle?”

 

“Yeah yeah, no problem, the client can wait that long, there’s other work they’ve approved that we can start on before we get to that anyway.” shrugged Scrapper.

 

Deciding it was time to move on and let these mechs finish their business, Jazz said, “Well, this has been nice, but I better get back and do my own work, n’ let you guys finish up too. I just have a quick question, Prowl, wanna meet up at that cafe and get a cube some time?”

 

“No.” 

◈❖◈

Jazz ran into Prowl on and off over the rest of the decacycle. Sometimes at the convention, sometimes pulling over and ticketing a driver breaking speed limits. Prowl was slow to thaw, but Jazz was kind of charmed. So he took every opportunity to visit before he had to return to Iacon and give Alpha Trion his report. 

 

After all, all things have their season and this one was just about coming to an end. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort to make an impression on Prowl before then. Hopefully it would stick and Jazz would have one more friend to visit next time he was in Praxus.

◈❖◈

It had been a long decacycle. First with the normal paperwork of an enforcer, then the engineering convention, and finally the blueprints he still needed to finalize his notes on to send back to Scrapper. So when Prowl finally rolled up to one of his favourite cafe’s he sagged on his wheels in relief, then transformed and stretched his stiff joints to enter the cozy space. Walking up to the counter, Prowl smiled tiredly at the cashier and checked the menu to see if they’d added anything new lately.

 

“Hello! Welcome to Fractal Cafe, how can we help you today?” asked the cashier in a friendly tone. Prowl knew what he wanted already, and ordered his stimulant blend with a double shot and extra processing. It might knock another mech flat, but Prowl’s processors required a lot of high energy fuel, so this was actually a perfect way to make sure he was booted up as fast as possible.

 

Transferring the credits for his order – which ended up including one of their locally famous goodies – Prowl found his way to his usual corner and sat, looking idly out the window and watching the few people out this early during the cycle.

 

The server was just finishing up Prowl’s order and about to bring it over to him, it was at this point things started to go so very wrong. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that anyone might not have suspected anything. 

 

He saw Jazz walk into the cafe and spot him and his approaching order. Prowl’s spark did a neat little trick at the sight of the mech who had become a surprisingly interesting new acquaintance over the course of his time in Praxus. He saw Jazz’s helm tilt and his visitor sparkle. He watched as Jazz walked with long smooth strides towards Prowl’s table. He was just going to greet Jazz who had arrived at the same time as his hot cube of stimulant.

 

Then Prowl’s cube was plucked from his outstretched hand before he knew it and he watched, stunned speechless, as Jazz grinned and gave a cheeky salute with his free hand. After which he downed Prowl’s cue while making full optic contact.

 

“Thanks for the treat, Prowler! See you ‘round mech!” said Jazz, spinning on a heel and dashing to the door, laughing the whole while. 

 

Prowl was furious. Normally, getting this worked up over something so small was beneath him. But this cretin stole. his. stimulants. 

 

Before Prowl even really registered what was happening, he was out of his seat, engine snarling as he sprinted off after that annoying little tourist! That deplorable little thief! His sirens were blaring and lights flashing before the wheels of his altmode had hit the pavement spinning like mad, and then he was launching himself after that no good little speedster.

 

He could hear Jazz laughing ahead of him, loud and boisterous, incredibly pleased with himself and his mischief. Well, Prowl would just have to make sure that he knew mischief was a crime punishable by law. Gunning his engines and going as fast as he could while still avoiding uninvolved civilian traffic, Prowl did his damnedest to catch the annoying stimulant thief. 

If he was also feeling some kind of something that made his spark feel funny as the chase wore on, that was no one’s business but his own. Prowl was going to make sure that dirty little thief went home with a scuffed bumper anyway.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

initially I was gonna do Enforcer Prowl, and then I thought, nah, let's make him an engineer, but I changed my mind again and compromised :3

Chapter 2: Festival Fun

Summary:

Prowl doesn't think he'll see Jazz again. Until he does. Somehow the mech is performing at a club, and Prowl can't believe his luck.

Notes:

funny enough, i did have most of this finished last year? but i set a really arbitrary word goal that i've since decided was me being silly, not for setting a goal, but letting it take the fun out of writing the story! and i did have fun with them :3 so here they are now!

Jazz was so excited he thought he might just vibrate out of his plating!!! It had felt like ages since he’d last visited Praxus, but it was absolutely banger to be back. The crystals, the architecture, and the fascinatingly clean streets. The nice little cafes that were just perfect for mech on a work break to sit and relax while enjoying a nice warm cube of spiced energon or bitter stimulant.

He thought wistfully of the mech he’d played tag with during a spontaneous decision to be a bit mischievous during the last days of his last visit. Sigh, what a hottie, the complete package, clever, driven, all scowling face and shiny plating and big bu— uh, broad shoulders. Yeah. Shoulders.

That was all besides the point, he’d gotten this particular assignment because of the Solstice celebration coming up. Previous vorns he’d gone to Tarn and Polyhex, taken in the sights and updated the records about their festival practices. Not a chore for sure. It was beyond gratifying to bring his findings back to the Archives and make sure that their history reflected the important things: mechs in their everyday lives.

Praxus wasn’t as big on the loud and rowdy celebrations as the other citystates, but they had their own charm. There festivities leading up to the main celebration on the Solstice itself, and Jazz was looking forward to it. The largest Crystal Gardens, private and public, were opened and free for all to visit, and every vorn there would be new light displays engineered to make the crystals glow and light up the city in a swirling rainbow of colours.

Musicians would be contracted to play in the gardens during the day, soft and gentle songs that would make the city ring with cheery and light resonances for the enjoyment of passers by. Then at night, when the light shows really kicked it up a notch, many of those musicians would retreat to the largest plazas and halls and amphitheatres to kick off the nighttime celebrations.

Every citystate had dances, Polyhex had swinging joyful improvisations, Tarn had percussion heavy rhythms with an ever increasing tempo. Praxus was much like Iacon in that its dances tended to be formal and very structured. Some might even say that these dances weren’t meant for fun as much as an exhibition of technical skill.

At least, that’s what a lot of mechs thought, Jazz knew better. Pressed so close to your partner that you could feel the slightest shifting of their vents? One set of hands locked together and the other placed securely on the partner's frame as you spun and dipped with such tight coordination and proximity that plating was constantly brushing? Slow and almost lazy, every touch lingering, or dizzyingly fast, in either case the building anticipation and tension coming to a peak with the conclusion of the dance–

Jazz figured it was safe to say that it was more than just boring and overly formal. So lucky him that his assignment this year for the Solstice was Praxus! Mainly his assignment was to record the opening and closing ceremonies, and get a few snatches of the festival attractions over the four solar cycles the festival was happening.

This left plenty of time for him to pursue other interests while he was here, and speaking of the Unmaker…

“Blaster! How’s things mech?!” Jazz said excitedly, rushing over to greet his friend.

The large red host brightened up as he spun around to face Jazz, catching the mech up in a hug and laughing at their friendly collision. "Jazz my mech! It's been a hot breem! How come you didn't give your old pal a heads up you were comin' this way huh?"

"Ah, to be honest I was so excited to get the assignment that I may have, possibly, forgotten to comm you?" said Jazz with a sheepish smile, shoulders rising in a small shrug. Blaster just smirked knowingly.

"You sure it was just the assignment mech? 'Cuz I'm pretty sure last time you were here you mentioned something about a hot enforcer you were keen on. Then again next time we messaged. Also on vid comm when you looked absolutely twitterpated, and that time I mentioned–"

Spluttering, Jazz jumped up to cover his friend's mouth with his hand, optics glittering with mischief looked down at him and Blasters plating trembled.

"Okay okay! I get it! You might, just maybe, have a point! MAYBE! Mech was definitely hot, but he also super unimpressed with even my best pickup mater–" Jazz cut off with a small yelp and danced back away from Blaster, shaking his hand out and grimacing with as much exaggeration as possible.

"Jazz Jazz Jazz, buddy, pal, dearest friend of mine, you have it real bad you know? Just comm the mech! Ask him out to dance while you're here!" said Blaster, still laughing.

Fiddling with his fingers, Jazz couldn't look Blaster in the optics when he said, "I- uh. I never actually got his comm? We just kept running into eachother at the conference and I found – totally by accident!! – a cafe he went to pretty often– anyway. So like, I can't comm him. Even if I'd really like that." Jazz said, muttering the last part.

After a moment of silence, Jazz dared to look up at Blaster. The mech looked thoughtful.

"Aw pit, that really does throw a wrench in any grand plans of seduction my mech. I might have an offer to take your mind off it though."

Jazz perked up a bit. That sounded promising, more than spending the whole festival imaging all kinds of unlikely meet-cute opportunities with Prowl. "You got my attention. What's the gig?"

"Weeeell, ya mech here landed the DJ contract for a pretty happenin' club downtown for the festival. Final night I was planning to debut my new mixes…but since you're in town, wanna be the surprise guest star for the closing night? People know the Jazzmeister, no way you don't draw a crowd!" Blaster grinned wide, hands on hips and clearly chuffed about the idea.

Jazz goggled, but quickly let out a whoop and started bouncing in place.

"Pit yeah I will! That sounds rad! I haven't played a festival in ages! And don't drop those debut tracks just yet, lemme give'em a listen, lets see if we can't work out a kickass collaboration between us two…"

Walking off into Praxus with his friend, discussing plans for the show and all the work Jazz needed to finish first, Jazz' enthusiasm for the festival had been turned up to eleven! It was almost enough for him to forget that he was still just the tiniest bit bummed out that despite his daydreams, he probably wouldn't run into Prowl again.

◈❖◈

Prowl didn't often go out to socialize and enjoy local events, but Bluestreak had begged him to come see a performance by a specific musician who was famous for doing astoundingly popular popup concerts. Prowl couldn't say no to a friend he was so fond of, and apparently the musician was doing a a surprise show for the last orn of the festival. He'd expected a mediocre night with one person he called family, many he could care less for, and extreemly mediocre music.

Prowl was very wrong, the music was beautiful, but the mech performing it was stunning. It was also Jazz. It took Prowl a moment to reconcile this shimmering, glowing siren with the mech he’d last seen running away after ruining his morning dose of joy.

Bluestreak was beside, two seconds from flying out of their hard earned seats. The only thing keeping him there was likely that he'd been the one to invite Prowl, knowing he wasn't big on dancing and crowded clubs himself.

Watching Jazz dancing across the stage, joy in every line of his frame and every note leaving his mouth, Prowl experienced a sudden, nearly violent surge of heat through his systems. This wasn't fair at all! The mech was attractive before all the paint and buffing and polish applied for the show, and now this! Prowl had only maybe-sort-of been coming around to the idea that Jazz wasn't actually bad company, and and that he enjoyed the flirting just a little.

Before the little menace had ruined his breakfast, he'd been toying with the idea of sharing his comm frequency. Jazz hadn't quite been a friend yet, but Prowl had an inkling that he might be eventually.

More importantly, Prowl was still feeling a little upset about his stimulants. Added to the new annoyance about exactly how sexy Jazz looked right now.

Well. Two mechs could play at that game.

Maybe Jazz remembered him, maybe he didn't, but Prowl felt like getting some revenge. Draining his cube for some liquid courage, Prowl stood and reached a hand down to Bluestreak.

"Do you wanna dance? This mech is even better than you said and I think it'd be a shame not to indulge while we can." said Prowl, shouting to be heard over the music.

"Ooooohhh!!!!!! YES YESYES! You never wanna dance this is gonna be so great! Come on, let's see how close to the stage we can get–" Bluestreak shouted back, excitement bubbling over fiercely.

Prowl laughed, Bluestreak grabbed his hand a dragged him into the crowded dance floor. This would be worth it even just for how happy it'd make Bluestreak. When they reached the center of the dance floor, his friend took the lead, one arm low on Prowl's back, the other still holding tight to his hand.

Pressed bumper to bumper, the two grinned at eachother and joined the other pairs whirling around the floor stepping and spinning to the fast tempo, high energy song currently pumping through the speakers. It felt like ages since Prowl had so much fun like this. He should probably go out with Bluestreak more often.

Caught up in the joy and precision of movement, it was a while before Prowl looked up at the stage to get a look at Jazz. His silly little revenge plot completely forgotten in the total enjoyment of the dance. So he was more than a little surprised that when he looked up, it seemed like Jazz' visor was locked solidly on him.

Prowl smirked and spun away from Bluestreak. Maintaining optic contact with the singer, he undulated and ran a hand from one headlight down his abdominal armour to his hip. It might have been his imagination, but he thought Jazz's fingers might have stuttered in his playing at the action.

Slinking back into Bluestreak's enthusiastic hold, they continued to dance until the end of the live show.

Prowl could say he was maybe a little disappointed when Jazz left the stage and didn't come to find him in the crowd. But Bluestreak was still there and riding the high of their dancing, Prowl found himself cheered by the sheer wall on positive emotion radiating off his friend. Making their way over to the bar, the two sat and ordered some coolant, relaxing and enjoying the playlist the DJ had started up.

The club would be closing soon, maybe another joor, they could finish their cubes and beat the other patrons out, thus avoiding the surge of traffic. Prowl was just about to suggest that, when the large red DJ from tonight walked up and got his attention.

"Yo mech! Your designation Prowl?" he said cheerfully.

"That depends, who wants to know?" asked Prowl, curious.

"Right, designation's Blaster! I was tonight's DJ and my buddy Jazz saw you dancing in the crowd. Mech couldn't stay, work, you know how it is, but he wanted me to pass on his comm frequency. Said he thought you'd met before and he wanted to chat some time."

Prowl was stunned, but he reached out and grabbed the offered chip easily, distractedly returning a goodbye as the mech bounced back off into the slowly thinning crowd. Rolling in gently between his digits, Prowl gingerly inserted it into his wrist port to download the frequency and add it to contacts.

Deciding now was as good a time as any to try it, Prowl sent a message.

::Hello, Jazz, this it Prowl.::

Not expecting a reply soon, Prowl was about to close the comm ui when he got a reply.

::Hey Prowl!! Saw you killin' it on the dance floor with your buddy there and remembered I didn't get your comm last time we met. Sorry about stimulants by the way. No hard feelings, right?::

Surprisingly long, but Prowl felt a smile pull at his lips. Jazz did remember.

::It's forgiven. I almost wasn't sure it was you on that stage at first, your voice is incredible. You hadn't mentioned that you sing, and so beautifully.::

The pause this time was longer and Prowl entertained the idea that maybe he'd flustered the unflappable Jazz.

::Awww, mech, that's real sweet of you to say, glad you liked the show! Anyway, wanted to pass on my comm 'cuz I enjoyed our talks last time. Sorry, I couldn't deliver it in person, had to scram right after the show.::

::Admittedly, I was also starting to like your company by the time you left. It was a pleasant surprise to see you again, and more to have an opportunity to continue to chat.::

Truly, the anticipation was making Prowl's tanks feel bubbly. There was just something about Jazz that was slowly but surely drawing Prowl in a little more every time they met.

::Sweet! Well mech, I gotta get going, but again, so glad too see you again! Night!::

::Good night, Jazz.::

 

 

 

 

Notes:

How the conversation about Blaster playing delivery mech probably went:

 

B: Jazz, just go give him your frequency!

J: No way! I'm two seconds away from blowing a circuit! Primus below, it's like that mech was trying to kill me.

B: Don't be a coward! This is your chance! Weren't you the one moping that you'd probably never run into him again??

J: …

B: Eeeeyy?

J: Okay then. You give it to him for me then. I am not walking up to him this charged.

B: No way! He doesn't know me! And it's your frequency! Just go deal with the charge and come back!

J: …

B: Jazz? Jazz! Where are you going! get back here you– Ugh! Fine, be that way. Just know you owe me big time for this!!!

Chapter 3: Shhh, It's a Secret

Summary:

Jazz is very familiar with secrets.

Jazz was good at keeping secrets.

Like when he had to be a ghost just to get the lowdown for work because locals only trusted locals. Like his sometimes-cover as a travelling musician to snoop being more like a legit side gig than a sometimes-cover. Like only following the letter of the Council's orders when the others vetoed Alpha Trion, not the spirit. Like not reporting Orion and any number of others for speaking against the caste system and Council.

Not all of his secrets were so serious and dire. He had never told Blaster that Rewind was the one who’d replaced his entire set list for a gig with parody covers that one time. He’d never told Smokescreen that the reason he lost to Cliffjumper last time they had a Praxus Fold 'Em night was because Bumblebee was helping him cheat.

There were a lot of secrets to keep, and he was so full of them that Jazz tried to make it a rule that the one person he would never keep a secret from was himself. It wasn’t always an easy thing to do, being honest with yourself like that.

Sometimes there were secrets that you wanted to keep because it was easier than doing anything about it. The way Jazz saw it, secrets were different from lying to yourself. Which he also tried not to do, but a lie was a complete denial of reality, or twisting it right ‘round to suit your own self. It was a little different than a secret.

A secret was something you knew, that you admitted to yourself, that rang so true all you could do was pack it up in a neat little box and put it out of mind.

Jazz had a secret like that, not a bad one, in fact as far as most people were concerned it was the opposite. It was just…hard to think about, sometimes. Once in a while, when that secret was closer to the tip of his glossa, he’d maybe pull the box out and open it. Let the warm bright light out for just a moment to bask in its brilliance.

Then he'd put the secret away and carry on, warmed by it's appearance.

Sitting down and enjoying their regularly scheduled comm call, Jazz was very close to letting the little thing escape past his denta. Still he smiled and continued their conversation about Prowl’s plan to take a vacation after his current case was finished. Still the secret about how much Jazz loved a brilliant, stubborn, gorgeous Praxian with a dry wit and inexhaustible enthusiasm for city planning lingered just beneath his tongue.

Then Jazz swallowed it back down into his tanks.

This secret he'd keep just…a little bit longer.

Prowl chattered on like no one would believe he was the type to do.

Jazz listened intently like people often forgot he was capable of.

One light shining brightly on him from the screen, and another settled in his tanks and making them feel warm and light.

Maybe it wasn't time for this particular secret to come out in to the light of day just yet, but that was okay.

No secret stayed buried forever.

Jazz was happy with the way things were.

For now, at least.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Crack Shot

Summary:

Jazz never thought paintball could be this competitive.

Jazz hated snipers, truly. Not as people, Bluestreak was great, so was Perceptor. But damn if Prowl hadn't turned what was supposed to be just a fun game of paintball for friends night out into Predacons and Prey: Open Season Edition. Mechs were getting picked off left right and center, and slowly but surely, it looked like Team Prowl would be the winners.

After grueling hours or work, Jazz was one of the stunningly few players still left in the game now, crouching behind cover and taking potshots whenever one of Prowl’s crew of vicious pneuma lions broke cover. The list of casualties was long, and Jazz's patience was only barely holding. He was totally forcing all his friends and their boo(s) into more training camps hang outs to buff their skills.

So what they were all mostly various data caste mechs!? Mirage was a noble who did things like sport hunting, and Perceptor was a scientist who entered recreational marksmanship contests! That was still pretty stacked!

AND YET!

Despite Jazz using every sneaky, dirty, underhanded trick in the manual, his team was on the back pede and one wrong move away from a loss. Prowl and his team consisting of Bluestreak the savant of marksmanship, and various other security caste mechs was winning handily.

Thoom.

Crack.

There was an inarticulate cry, followed by the sound of Perceptor shouting, "FUCK!"

Thoom.

Crack.

Bumblebee crying out, "Aww! C'moooon!"

Shit. That meant Jazz was the last one left. Well, he'd go out in a blaze of glo–

Cl–Click.

Jazz slowly turned his head back to see Prowl right behind him.

The savage grin on his smug face should not have been that hot. Damnit.

"Bang."

Prowl tapped the muzzle of his paint gun to Jazz's chest, "Will you surrender?"

There definitely wasn't an embarrassing moment where Jazz spit static trying to get his vocalizer to work.

"Yeah mech, don't think there's any point tryin'a fight back now." said Jazz, dropping his paint gun and slowly raising his hands in surrender.

"Hmm, knowing when to quit is an excellent trait to have."

Prowl abruptly turned and took a few steps away, Jazz felt like his strings were cut. Prowl stopped, pivoted again and…

Thoom.

Crack.

…Ow.

"However, it's good practice to make sure you're opponents are down and out for certain."

Charge snapped tauntingly under Jazz's plating.

He was so screwed.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

initially I was gonna do Enforcer Prowl, and then I thought, nah, let's make him an engineer, but I changed my mind again and compromised :3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of JazzProwl