Fanfic: Finding the Reason 2011
Title: Finding the Reason 2011
Rating:PG
Words:2571
Characters/ Pairings: Prowl/ Jazz, Ratchet, Bluestreak/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, mention of other cannon character
Warnings: mild angst, fluff, kissing
Sequel to Finding the Reason from 2010. Link here- http://starsheild.livejournal.com/11872.html
The datapad screen went dark as Prowl turned it off, the report he had been reading over annotated and signed off on as needed. Prime would need to see that one in a couple of days. Prowl was not expecting him to get to it before then, and as bad as the skirmish with the Deceptions had gone, it was a thing of the past and not terribly urgent.
The Decepticons had no weapon that they could find. No revolutionary battle strategy and no insane scheme of Megatron's that Mirage had been able to uncover. They had just been very set on causing as much carnage as they could the last time their paths had crossed.
In fact, one of the notes Prowl had made on the analysis suggested that Bruticus had been acting on his own and was just out to cause destruction for the fun of it when he had stumbled upon the Autobot patrol group. Starscream and his trine had probably been sent to track the gestalt down and had joined in the fun instead when it looked like there was a chance they might win.
Whatever the reason, Ratchet had promised that the last of them would be repaired and out of the med bay in time to attend the annual Christmas celebration. Blaster had been the driving force behind it this year, though if the excessive greenery was anything to judge by Hound had helped out a great deal in the decorating department.
In fact...Prowl made a note to see if Hound wanted to be in charge of decorating every year. While foreign objects entering his domain was guaranteed to give Red Alert fits, Prowl rather liked the way Hound had arranged the greenery and the lights accompanying it. It was certainly much easier on the optics than past years.
And Bluestreak… the young gunner had come out medical stasis last year, to the joy and dismay of many of the Ark crew. As if to make up for having missed so much he had thrown himself helm first into the preparations for the party this year, constantly poking his head into Prowl's office to ask the Second's opinion on this or to get his thoughts on that.
Checking the time Prowl stood, doorwings stretching carefully to work out the kinks. Wheeljack had promised him a new chair, but with so many other needs having a higher priority the promised furniture was still not in Prowl's office. Which just meant cramped doorwings when Prowl spent more time in there than he was supposed to.
After additional consideration Prowl wondered if the reason he did not have a new chair yet was an attempt to get him out of his office more often through discomfort.
With a sigh he forced himself to leave, knowing he should have left a quarter of an hour ago and that he was distracting himself from the problem that was really bothering him.
The door locked automatically behind him, the code secure enough that it took an override from Prime or the skill and finesse of a spec ops mech to break it. Jazz- Jazz had always managed to break it in record time, even if Prowl could never find the pattern that the saboteur had insisted existed when Prowl had tried to pry the secret of Jazz's success from him.
Doorwings twitched as Prowl realized how long it had been since he had changed the code. Red Alert would have a fit if he found out, and the Praxian made a note to update the lock tomorrow.
Another distraction. Avoidance, brought back into focus by the memories of Jazz. Even now the mech could still worm his way into Prowls conscious.
"Prowl!"
The Praxian turned, identifying the mech calling his name before by voice. "Bluestreak."
"I was just coming to get you. The party started and everyone was looking for you. They sent me to down to make sure that you weren't going to forget because you got distracted in your office. I mean, I know that everyone says you leave early every year, and no one seems to know where you go. Or if they do they won't tell me-."
Prowl smiled as he fell into step beside the smaller mech. "I need some quiet, to think, after the noise of the party." Suddenly thoughtful, Prowl tilted his head to look at Bluestreak. "May I ask you a question?"
"Ask me a question?"' Bluestreak stared at him for a moment, surprised at the request. "Of course you can ask me a question. I mean, I ask you questions all the time. It would be a shame if you missed the party this year, after all that you helped me with, helping Blaster set it up and all. It-" He broke off abruptly and looked at Prowl, somewhat sheepish. "Sorry. Question. Because for you to ask I have to stop talking-"
Prowl wasn't so sure that the poor gunner didn't literally bite his own glossa to shut himself up, and found himself smiling again, just a little. "What are you thankful for?"
Blue optics flickered in surprise, the question obviously not what Bluestreak had been expecting. "Well, I'm thankful that we get to have a party tonight. And that everyone gets to attend, since Ratchet released them all from medical this afternoon. And for all of my friends, and for you. And for Sun-"
The smaller Praxian stuttered there, bright optics turned away shyly and suddenly silent.
Not that Prowl needed him to finish the statement. The fact that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were courting the gunner was common knowledge throughout the Ark, even if the three of them wanted to pretend that it was a secret. And not everyone was out of medical. And therein lay Prowl's dilemma.
"Why?"
The question drew Prowl back to his current company. "Why what?"
"What do you ask?" Bluestreak expanded. "What are you thankful for?"
The white mech vented sharply. "That's the problem. I don't know."
"Problem? Why is that a problem? You're here, and that's all that matters. Who is going to care? I mean-."
"Jazz."
"Jazz? I don't understand. Jazz doesn't care that you don't have anything to be thankful for. After all-."
Bluestreak jumped as Prowl turned on him. "He would care, Bluestreak. Every year he made me choose something to be thankful for, something special. So every year I have, even now. That's where I go when I leave the party- I go see him. But this year-."
The door to the rec room opened, Prowl not even realizing that they had traveled so far, and the music pouring from the brightly lit room killed any desire he might have to attend. "This year I'm not going."
With that he turned away, stopping only when Bluestreak attached himself to his arm and refused to let go. "But you have to come. You have to. Everyone-."
"I do not care what everyone else wants, Bluestreak. I am not going." In this at least, there was no direct harm caused by his absence. Moral might fall a little, but within a few days it would be labeled just another manifestation of Prowl's often anti-social personality, dismissed and forgotten until the next party where he did not put in an appearance.
"Please Prowl. Please."
Something in the smaller mechs tone made Prowl look, and that was his undoing. There was no relation between them, other than the fact that they were Praxian, and two of the few left after their city had been leveled. The same city that Bluestreak had been pulled from, one of only a handful of survivors. But those optics were the same ones that had drawn Prowl to comfort the mechling then, and tugged at his spark now.
"Very well."
The embrace was not something Prowl had been expecting either, just managing to flick his doorwings out of the way in time before he found himself wrapped in a tight hug. "Thank you!"
Bluestreak refused to let go of Prowl's hand after the Second agreed, pulling him into the party and seeing him seated in corner with a cube of highgrade.
Prowl couldn't help but smile a little at the enthusiasm of the other mech, thanking him quietly before sending him on his way. The looks the twins were throwing his way were not lost on the black and white mech.
Slowly Prowl found himself sinking into a state of not enjoyment, but acceptance. Just because he was not enjoying himself did not mean he had the right to deny others the chance to have some fun and relax. A point that Prowl had denied for a long time before Jazz had forced him to see the truth.
He settled in to watch the party carry on around him, searching for something to take to Jazz later.
Finally Prowl thought he had found something, and if he stayed around much longer his sensor wings were going to start aching. He had always stayed for the whole party when Jazz was there, but Jazz had always made up for his discomfort.
He flipped his wings, shaking out the kinks and picked up his empty cube to place it in the disposal. He was startled when someone grabbed his left arm, clamping down tightly. Sharp blue optics traveled up the red arm to the mech holding him in place. "Is there something I can do for you Sideswipe?"
"You could stay."
Prowl sighed softly. He thought they had settled this a long time ago. "I have come to the party, I observed for longer than I often do, and now I am going."
If anything Sideswipes hand clamped down harder. "You need to stay."
"Do I get to know why?"
"You will in a minute." Sideswipe promised vaguely.
Prowl gave in, his displeasure clear, but didn't fight it.
Until it started to drag one and on. "How much longer?"
"Just wait."
"Sideswipe-."
"Wait...wait..."
The low rumble from the Prowl, soft enough that if you were not standing beside the Praxian you would have been unable to hear it, did catch Sideswipes attention, his optics going several shades lighter. An angry Prowl was a rare thing. The last time the frontliner could ever recall seeing Prowl angry was the time Bluestreak had been left on the battlefield, the snipers back up having jumped the gun and left the mech he was supposed to be protecting all alone.
The show had been spectacular in its own way. It was that day they had all learned that an infuriated Prowl did not explode as they had all been expecting. No, an infuriated Prowl turned colder than empty space, each word sharp enough to slice a mech if his optics didn't finish you off first.
How the transgressor survived no one knew, with the best guesses being that Optimus had order Prowl not to do any permanent damage, which covered deactivation.
Still, Sideswipe steeled himself, unwilling to break the promise had made. Almost pleading optics met Prowl's. "Please...just a minute."
"Let go of my arm." Prowl stated softly, "And I will give you five. If whatever it is has not happened by then-"
"I'm not entirely sure what you think you are going to do, since you have nowhere to go." A calm voice interrupted.
Both mechs turned to look at the new arrival, the surge of fear that flared in Prowl's field as he identified the speaker as Ratchet making Sideswipe take a step back in shock. Just as there was little that truly angered the Praxian, so were there few things that truly scared him.
"Why do you say that?" Even his iron control could not stop his voice from shaking just a little as Prowl spoke. It was an unspoken arrangement, known to few, that existed between Prowl and the medic. An arrangement where Prowl used his override code to access the medical stasis chambers once a year to sit in a chair and visit with a spark caught in limbo.
"Medical stasis is shut down." Ratchet informed him, shifting a little to the side and noting with satisfaction how Prowl's optics remained locked on him. The rest of the mecha in the room had gone quiet, the only sounds those of the music still playing softly and the shuffling of the rooms occupants. "Don't need it any more."
Doorwings fell flat in distress, Prowl not even caring that the rest of the room could see his pain. "Jazz-"
"Missed ya lot."
What exactly Ratchet was smiling at was anyone's guess as Prowl spun around, doorwings flaring and almost knocking Sideswipe over as the red mech barely dodged out of the way.
"Jazz..." Prowl stared, sure that his optics must be deceiving him. There was no way the black and white mech standing before could really be-
"Yeah."
That grin. That flash of the visor that said Jazz was finding something highly amusing.
"-Ratchet cleared me a bit ago, an’ I wanted to surprise ya. Figured now was as good a time as any. I...Prowl?"
For a moment those around them were sure that Prowl had glitched, standing still as a statue and just looking at the other mech.
"Prowl? ‘s it the bow?" Jazz motioned to a large red bow stuck on his helm. "Prowl?"
Finally the Praxian moved, stepping forward and reaching out to Jazz as though he was afraid that the smaller mech was going to vanish the moment he touched him. The first brush of fingers over armor and hesitancy gave way to lightening fast motion as Prowl pulled Jazz against him, lips locking in a scorching kiss.
Cheers and whistles spread through the rec room, mechs hooting and hollering at the display being put on by their normally reserved chief tactical officer.
The two mechs actually participating in the public display of affection could not have cared less.
The kiss finally broke, but Prowl didn't act the least inclined to release the mech in his arms, tilting his head to rest his helm against Jazz's and looking into the other mech's gaze. A smile slowly crossed his face. "A bow?"
"First Aid's idea. I wasn' ‘bout ta tell him no." Jazz responded with a smile of his own. "Not sure he would have let me out o’ there without it an’ I wanted to see ya."
"Missed you." Prowl murmured, feeling and hearing the crowd around them being broken up by Ratchet and some of the other mech, the chief medic informing those who protested that they would be able to welcome Jazz back soon enough.
"Missed ya too." Later he would tell Prowl that he always knew when the other mech was there. That those visits had pulled him through the hard times and given him the strength to carry on when all he had wanted was to give up and go rest in the Well.
Later.
"Well..." Prowl leaned forward, kissing him again gently and tenderly. "This year I am thankful that you are back with me."
"Bet that wasn't what you were going to tell me before." Jazz challenged.
"It wasn't, but it's what you are going to get it."
"An’ I'll take it." Jazz rested his helm against Prowl's chest, right over the Praxian's spark, their embrace a small pocket of calm in the middle of the now lively celebration. "Merry Christmas Prowl."
"Merry Christmas Jazz."
Rating:PG
Words:2571
Characters/ Pairings: Prowl/ Jazz, Ratchet, Bluestreak/Sideswipe/Sunstreaker, mention of other cannon character
Warnings: mild angst, fluff, kissing
Sequel to Finding the Reason from 2010. Link here- http://starsheild.livejournal.com/11872.html
The datapad screen went dark as Prowl turned it off, the report he had been reading over annotated and signed off on as needed. Prime would need to see that one in a couple of days. Prowl was not expecting him to get to it before then, and as bad as the skirmish with the Deceptions had gone, it was a thing of the past and not terribly urgent.
The Decepticons had no weapon that they could find. No revolutionary battle strategy and no insane scheme of Megatron's that Mirage had been able to uncover. They had just been very set on causing as much carnage as they could the last time their paths had crossed.
In fact, one of the notes Prowl had made on the analysis suggested that Bruticus had been acting on his own and was just out to cause destruction for the fun of it when he had stumbled upon the Autobot patrol group. Starscream and his trine had probably been sent to track the gestalt down and had joined in the fun instead when it looked like there was a chance they might win.
Whatever the reason, Ratchet had promised that the last of them would be repaired and out of the med bay in time to attend the annual Christmas celebration. Blaster had been the driving force behind it this year, though if the excessive greenery was anything to judge by Hound had helped out a great deal in the decorating department.
In fact...Prowl made a note to see if Hound wanted to be in charge of decorating every year. While foreign objects entering his domain was guaranteed to give Red Alert fits, Prowl rather liked the way Hound had arranged the greenery and the lights accompanying it. It was certainly much easier on the optics than past years.
And Bluestreak… the young gunner had come out medical stasis last year, to the joy and dismay of many of the Ark crew. As if to make up for having missed so much he had thrown himself helm first into the preparations for the party this year, constantly poking his head into Prowl's office to ask the Second's opinion on this or to get his thoughts on that.
Checking the time Prowl stood, doorwings stretching carefully to work out the kinks. Wheeljack had promised him a new chair, but with so many other needs having a higher priority the promised furniture was still not in Prowl's office. Which just meant cramped doorwings when Prowl spent more time in there than he was supposed to.
After additional consideration Prowl wondered if the reason he did not have a new chair yet was an attempt to get him out of his office more often through discomfort.
With a sigh he forced himself to leave, knowing he should have left a quarter of an hour ago and that he was distracting himself from the problem that was really bothering him.
The door locked automatically behind him, the code secure enough that it took an override from Prime or the skill and finesse of a spec ops mech to break it. Jazz- Jazz had always managed to break it in record time, even if Prowl could never find the pattern that the saboteur had insisted existed when Prowl had tried to pry the secret of Jazz's success from him.
Doorwings twitched as Prowl realized how long it had been since he had changed the code. Red Alert would have a fit if he found out, and the Praxian made a note to update the lock tomorrow.
Another distraction. Avoidance, brought back into focus by the memories of Jazz. Even now the mech could still worm his way into Prowls conscious.
"Prowl!"
The Praxian turned, identifying the mech calling his name before by voice. "Bluestreak."
"I was just coming to get you. The party started and everyone was looking for you. They sent me to down to make sure that you weren't going to forget because you got distracted in your office. I mean, I know that everyone says you leave early every year, and no one seems to know where you go. Or if they do they won't tell me-."
Prowl smiled as he fell into step beside the smaller mech. "I need some quiet, to think, after the noise of the party." Suddenly thoughtful, Prowl tilted his head to look at Bluestreak. "May I ask you a question?"
"Ask me a question?"' Bluestreak stared at him for a moment, surprised at the request. "Of course you can ask me a question. I mean, I ask you questions all the time. It would be a shame if you missed the party this year, after all that you helped me with, helping Blaster set it up and all. It-" He broke off abruptly and looked at Prowl, somewhat sheepish. "Sorry. Question. Because for you to ask I have to stop talking-"
Prowl wasn't so sure that the poor gunner didn't literally bite his own glossa to shut himself up, and found himself smiling again, just a little. "What are you thankful for?"
Blue optics flickered in surprise, the question obviously not what Bluestreak had been expecting. "Well, I'm thankful that we get to have a party tonight. And that everyone gets to attend, since Ratchet released them all from medical this afternoon. And for all of my friends, and for you. And for Sun-"
The smaller Praxian stuttered there, bright optics turned away shyly and suddenly silent.
Not that Prowl needed him to finish the statement. The fact that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were courting the gunner was common knowledge throughout the Ark, even if the three of them wanted to pretend that it was a secret. And not everyone was out of medical. And therein lay Prowl's dilemma.
"Why?"
The question drew Prowl back to his current company. "Why what?"
"What do you ask?" Bluestreak expanded. "What are you thankful for?"
The white mech vented sharply. "That's the problem. I don't know."
"Problem? Why is that a problem? You're here, and that's all that matters. Who is going to care? I mean-."
"Jazz."
"Jazz? I don't understand. Jazz doesn't care that you don't have anything to be thankful for. After all-."
Bluestreak jumped as Prowl turned on him. "He would care, Bluestreak. Every year he made me choose something to be thankful for, something special. So every year I have, even now. That's where I go when I leave the party- I go see him. But this year-."
The door to the rec room opened, Prowl not even realizing that they had traveled so far, and the music pouring from the brightly lit room killed any desire he might have to attend. "This year I'm not going."
With that he turned away, stopping only when Bluestreak attached himself to his arm and refused to let go. "But you have to come. You have to. Everyone-."
"I do not care what everyone else wants, Bluestreak. I am not going." In this at least, there was no direct harm caused by his absence. Moral might fall a little, but within a few days it would be labeled just another manifestation of Prowl's often anti-social personality, dismissed and forgotten until the next party where he did not put in an appearance.
"Please Prowl. Please."
Something in the smaller mechs tone made Prowl look, and that was his undoing. There was no relation between them, other than the fact that they were Praxian, and two of the few left after their city had been leveled. The same city that Bluestreak had been pulled from, one of only a handful of survivors. But those optics were the same ones that had drawn Prowl to comfort the mechling then, and tugged at his spark now.
"Very well."
The embrace was not something Prowl had been expecting either, just managing to flick his doorwings out of the way in time before he found himself wrapped in a tight hug. "Thank you!"
Bluestreak refused to let go of Prowl's hand after the Second agreed, pulling him into the party and seeing him seated in corner with a cube of highgrade.
Prowl couldn't help but smile a little at the enthusiasm of the other mech, thanking him quietly before sending him on his way. The looks the twins were throwing his way were not lost on the black and white mech.
Slowly Prowl found himself sinking into a state of not enjoyment, but acceptance. Just because he was not enjoying himself did not mean he had the right to deny others the chance to have some fun and relax. A point that Prowl had denied for a long time before Jazz had forced him to see the truth.
He settled in to watch the party carry on around him, searching for something to take to Jazz later.
Finally Prowl thought he had found something, and if he stayed around much longer his sensor wings were going to start aching. He had always stayed for the whole party when Jazz was there, but Jazz had always made up for his discomfort.
He flipped his wings, shaking out the kinks and picked up his empty cube to place it in the disposal. He was startled when someone grabbed his left arm, clamping down tightly. Sharp blue optics traveled up the red arm to the mech holding him in place. "Is there something I can do for you Sideswipe?"
"You could stay."
Prowl sighed softly. He thought they had settled this a long time ago. "I have come to the party, I observed for longer than I often do, and now I am going."
If anything Sideswipes hand clamped down harder. "You need to stay."
"Do I get to know why?"
"You will in a minute." Sideswipe promised vaguely.
Prowl gave in, his displeasure clear, but didn't fight it.
Until it started to drag one and on. "How much longer?"
"Just wait."
"Sideswipe-."
"Wait...wait..."
The low rumble from the Prowl, soft enough that if you were not standing beside the Praxian you would have been unable to hear it, did catch Sideswipes attention, his optics going several shades lighter. An angry Prowl was a rare thing. The last time the frontliner could ever recall seeing Prowl angry was the time Bluestreak had been left on the battlefield, the snipers back up having jumped the gun and left the mech he was supposed to be protecting all alone.
The show had been spectacular in its own way. It was that day they had all learned that an infuriated Prowl did not explode as they had all been expecting. No, an infuriated Prowl turned colder than empty space, each word sharp enough to slice a mech if his optics didn't finish you off first.
How the transgressor survived no one knew, with the best guesses being that Optimus had order Prowl not to do any permanent damage, which covered deactivation.
Still, Sideswipe steeled himself, unwilling to break the promise had made. Almost pleading optics met Prowl's. "Please...just a minute."
"Let go of my arm." Prowl stated softly, "And I will give you five. If whatever it is has not happened by then-"
"I'm not entirely sure what you think you are going to do, since you have nowhere to go." A calm voice interrupted.
Both mechs turned to look at the new arrival, the surge of fear that flared in Prowl's field as he identified the speaker as Ratchet making Sideswipe take a step back in shock. Just as there was little that truly angered the Praxian, so were there few things that truly scared him.
"Why do you say that?" Even his iron control could not stop his voice from shaking just a little as Prowl spoke. It was an unspoken arrangement, known to few, that existed between Prowl and the medic. An arrangement where Prowl used his override code to access the medical stasis chambers once a year to sit in a chair and visit with a spark caught in limbo.
"Medical stasis is shut down." Ratchet informed him, shifting a little to the side and noting with satisfaction how Prowl's optics remained locked on him. The rest of the mecha in the room had gone quiet, the only sounds those of the music still playing softly and the shuffling of the rooms occupants. "Don't need it any more."
Doorwings fell flat in distress, Prowl not even caring that the rest of the room could see his pain. "Jazz-"
"Missed ya lot."
What exactly Ratchet was smiling at was anyone's guess as Prowl spun around, doorwings flaring and almost knocking Sideswipe over as the red mech barely dodged out of the way.
"Jazz..." Prowl stared, sure that his optics must be deceiving him. There was no way the black and white mech standing before could really be-
"Yeah."
That grin. That flash of the visor that said Jazz was finding something highly amusing.
"-Ratchet cleared me a bit ago, an’ I wanted to surprise ya. Figured now was as good a time as any. I...Prowl?"
For a moment those around them were sure that Prowl had glitched, standing still as a statue and just looking at the other mech.
"Prowl? ‘s it the bow?" Jazz motioned to a large red bow stuck on his helm. "Prowl?"
Finally the Praxian moved, stepping forward and reaching out to Jazz as though he was afraid that the smaller mech was going to vanish the moment he touched him. The first brush of fingers over armor and hesitancy gave way to lightening fast motion as Prowl pulled Jazz against him, lips locking in a scorching kiss.
Cheers and whistles spread through the rec room, mechs hooting and hollering at the display being put on by their normally reserved chief tactical officer.
The two mechs actually participating in the public display of affection could not have cared less.
The kiss finally broke, but Prowl didn't act the least inclined to release the mech in his arms, tilting his head to rest his helm against Jazz's and looking into the other mech's gaze. A smile slowly crossed his face. "A bow?"
"First Aid's idea. I wasn' ‘bout ta tell him no." Jazz responded with a smile of his own. "Not sure he would have let me out o’ there without it an’ I wanted to see ya."
"Missed you." Prowl murmured, feeling and hearing the crowd around them being broken up by Ratchet and some of the other mech, the chief medic informing those who protested that they would be able to welcome Jazz back soon enough.
"Missed ya too." Later he would tell Prowl that he always knew when the other mech was there. That those visits had pulled him through the hard times and given him the strength to carry on when all he had wanted was to give up and go rest in the Well.
Later.
"Well..." Prowl leaned forward, kissing him again gently and tenderly. "This year I am thankful that you are back with me."
"Bet that wasn't what you were going to tell me before." Jazz challenged.
"It wasn't, but it's what you are going to get it."
"An’ I'll take it." Jazz rested his helm against Prowl's chest, right over the Praxian's spark, their embrace a small pocket of calm in the middle of the now lively celebration. "Merry Christmas Prowl."
"Merry Christmas Jazz."