When a Datsun Loves a Porsche

Call my name and save me from the dark~

Sun, 12 Oct 2008 10:26:41 GMT

Soooo... here I was happily thinking, Evanescence's 'Bring me to life' should give me some good art bunnies for Jazz. Well, it almost worked, except a certain Security Director had other plans. I totally BSed Inferno and didn't look for references so I'm positive he's pretty wrong... not like Red's any better. Beware of the messy and lazy colors and wangtastic pikshur

I just wasted the whole afternoon on this thing.

Sat, 11 Oct 2008 06:26:10 GMT

A friend of mine sent me this meme thing about fanservice. Apparently the objective is to cause a as many fangasms as possible, but being me, I think we've stablished already I'm made of condensed phail and I'm not exactly right in the roof, so I turned into something funny. I needed to cheer myself up anyway. XP I'm aware a have a few typos slipping in, I'll fix them one of these days.

The red text is me speaking. Purple would be Prowl. Blue would be Jazz.

Since this thing is extra long you'll find the link instead of embebed image. Beware of big aft file. And I cheated on this thing like a lot. Especially the part involving 'opposite genders'.

Fanservice meme - Starring Prowl.

About the last part, dunno what you guys consider 'fan service' but for me, Prowl about to give Jazz a kiss on his cheek / helm horn is squeetastic.

Can't Go Home Again, Baby.

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 08:42:28 GMT

This picture is kind of inspired by two things. snugsbunny's Snapshots Series. And The song "Can't go home again, baby."

They are wearing 'clothing' loosely inspired in asiatic clothes (big emphasis in loosely and inspired). Prowl's wearing the chinese clothing, Jazz's wearing the Japanese clothing and Bluestreak's wearing the Korean clothing. Jazz was going to be wearing a normal male yukata but then the bastard wanted his wings out, and it already looked like he was wearing a female kimono so I just went the whole mile with that one. Bluestreak is wearing the female clothing but that's because I thought he looked cuter with it. XP

I would recommend to listen to the whole song to get why this picture ended up the way it did.

Because someone needs hugs, and fluff... and a bit of crack.

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 20:53:11 GMT

Title: ~~Ievan's~~ Bluestreak's Polka
Rating: PG-13/Humor/Fluff.
Warnings: Cracktasticness.
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz. Hinted one-sided Sunstreaker x Bluestreak.
Summary: A certain pair of black and white mechs find themselves unable to deny anything to a certain gunner, regardless of how ridiculous the request could be.
Notes: A gift fic for xaefryl because she needs a hug, much love and a little bit of crack.

As usual, this isn't beta'ed.

There were certain very well hidden secrets among the ranks of the Autobots stranded in Earth. Nobody could ever possibly guess the kind of secret the high command within the Ark kept from the rest of their troops.

There were certain things about their second and third in command's past nobody but a handful of trusted mechs knew about. Many would have thought secrets involving that pair would have to do with sordid former occupations or dark not-so-little deeds.

Prowl and Jazz were perfectly comfortable with their troops assuming the tightly controlled information regarding their past was related to dubious activities, especially because the assumptions were so far away in nature from the real reason they kept the delicate information under as many locks and security measures as Prowl, Red Alert and Jazz himself could come up with.

Prowl had tried, at first, to keep his and Jazz's relationship a secret as well, but after some time, they realized it was just too glaringly in everyone's face that they didn't bother to hide they were a bonded pair any more. Jazz had not been upset about Prowl trying to hide their status, understanding the mech was worried their relationship would make the other an easy target for Decepticon plots, especially considering their high positions in the Autobot army.

Their other secret, initially had Jazz and its other participant upset, but both soon realized Prowl had good reasons and agreed to maintain their situation a secret.

Their troops couldn't know, shouldn't know, the kind of relationship Jazz and Prowl had with Bluestreak. It was really hard for the pair to keep that secret, especially because it was obvious that, aside from Jazz, Prowl was most attentive towards Bluestreak and it was a well known fact Prowl could rarely deny anything to Bluestreak, nor could Jazz.

Most mechs assumed their tactician's weakness towards the young gunner was driven by their similar make and Bluestreak being the only known survivor of the attack that devastated Praxus, Prowl's place of creation and his home for vorns, and that Jazz accepted Bluestreak around him and Prowl because of the same reasons. Prowl was content letting everyone assumed these reasons to be true, and really, they were party true.

There were quite a few days when Bluestreak would merrily slip into the saboteur's and tactician's shared quarters for hours, and whatever happened inside was everyone's guess. A few more mean spirited Autobots were quick to make lewd comments about what Prowl, Jazz and Bluestreak really did in there, comments that were quickly met with an unexpected kick on the aft, literally and figuratively, courtesy of a very ticked off saboteur, or some rather unpleasant lectures delivered by a very, very ticked off tactician. And on occasion, were met with a good punch, courtesy of a really flustered golden frontline warrior, who apparently harbored more than just a little crush on their young gunner.

It were those times when both, Prowl and Jazz were sorely tempted to reveal the true nature of their relationship, but they always reminded themselves it was safer to keep the secret. The least they wanted was for the Decepticons to find out the younger Datsun was their creation.

It was hard for Bluestreak to hold back the urges to call his superiors by their names as if there was no deeper relationship between them. And once he learned the terms humans used to refer to their creators, it became even harder for Bluestreak not to call Jazz 'daddy' or address Prowl as his 'father'.

But in the privacy of Prowl's and Jazz's quarters, which were rigged with probably twice the security devices Prime's personal quarters possessed, they could indulge that little time together being a family.

Unfortunately for Prowl, that also meant he just couldn't say no to anything Bluestreak asked of him during those times. Even if that meant standing in the middle of the ample room with Jazz playing Bluestreak's latest musical obssession, freaking dancing along with his mate and his 'sparkling - because no matter how old Bluestreak were, he would always be his sparkling.

"Bluestreak," Prowl raised an optic ridge following the movements of his mate and child. "What exactly are we doing?"

Bluestreak beamed a big, decidedly Jazz-like smile at his father. "Dancing!"

"I figured that. I mean what exactly it is we're dancing to?"

"I believe humans call it Polka, Prowler." Jazz grinned, turning the volume up just a tad and leading his mate and creation around in their little dance, very amused at how easily Bluestreak could get Prowl to agree to do something like this.

"I think I have you both horribly spoiled." Prowl sighed with a feigned expression of disappointment, only to smile suddenly, wrapping his arms around his Jazz and Bluestreak, spinning around the room with his family.

"Admit it, Prowler, ya love us," Jazz teased, pressing a sound kiss to his mate's cheek, flashing a grin at Bluestreak who merely hugged his parents close.

"Oh, I do. But if Bluestreak asks for an accordion at Christmas, I'm kicking you both out of here," Prowl said with such seriousness all Bluestreak and Jazz could do was laugh, especially because they were still dancing, or trying to, while embracing each other.

Listen, do you want to know a secret? I just updated IC oh the joy /sarcasm

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 10:49:56 GMT

Title: If You Promise Not To Tell.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fluffage.
Pairings: Hound x Mirage, Sunstreaker x Bluestreak, Optimus Prime x Starscream (We know the deal with these two), Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Hound, Mirage, Sunstreaker, Bluestreak, Starscream, Optimus, Prowl and Jazz. Mention of Sideswipe, Grimlock, Sludge, Wheeljack, Dead End, Megatron, Sunstorm and Sentinel Prime.
Summary: AU - Partly using Dreamwave's comics as basis. A re imagination of Cybertron's society where the line dividing slaves from nobles is so thin.
Notes: Getting Mirage outta his funk, with some Sunny/Blue quality time, we make some more progress in the Prime/Screamer front, and lookit that, long distance love~

Mirage smiled to himself, fixing the trays containing energon goodies for what Hound thought was the twentieth time in the last half a joor, though the former slave made no comment about it. While Mirage was rather obsessive with these kind of details, and could be very amusing to watch, Hound knew this little meeting was important for his mate, and he wanted nothing more than to see Mirage happy.

It was the first time since their engagement that Mirage had guests, and the Valkyre noble was very excited about it. He needed this, he needed to spend some time with friends, go out and do something to keep himself occupied. Although the noble mech insisted he had no interest in attending the turbo fox hunts organized by the elite if Hound was not invited, the mech wanted to get back in touch with other nobles who were supportive of his and Hound's union or simply didn't care about the matter enough to be unpleasant towards Hound.

"Do you think it's enough?" Mirage asked absently, looking around the table to judge whether or not the amount of refreshments was adequate for his little get together.

"That depends, are we waiting for eight guests or twenty?" Hound chuckled when Mirage gave him a heated look. "Just kidding. And I do believe these will suffice."

"Fine." Mirage let out a long sigh and moved to stand by his mate, looking out through the large windows of the room.

"You look so cute when you're nervous," Hound teased, resting his hands around Mirage's waist, tracing idle patterns over the material of his sash. Mirage lifted an optic ridge, giving his mate his best 'you didn't just call me cute' look, but after a moment he found himself smiling and chuckled at his mate's comment. "You're impossible," Mirage wrapped his arms around Hound's neck, pulling him into a soft albeit playful kiss.

Hound kissed back, allowing a hand to trail up over Mirage's back to hold him close. "Mmm, do you think the guests will take much longer to get here?" He asked with a playful glint in his optics. "Because I wouldn't want you to get bored waiting."

Mirage laughed in that unrestrained, purely joyous way that made Hound's spark beat faster with happiness. He loved his mate and especially loved it when Mirage laughed like this because it meant his lover was truly happy. "Much as I'd love to share some quality time with my mate, I'm afraid our guests will be here pretty soon."

Hound was about to object to that when the chime announced the arrival of their guests. Mirage straightened himself a little but made no movement to pull away from Hound. The former slave released his mate but kept an arm around Mirage's waist, his hand resting on his mate's hip as he led him to the doors to receive their guests.

The doors opened to reveal several nobles and ascended nobles, family friends or business partners. "Welcome, please help yourselves." Mirage gestured towards the table, introducing Hound to those nobles that hadn't yet treated with him directly.

Hound led his mate to the table, seating next to him once the Valkyre noble took his seat. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting us." Bluestreak smiled, truly happy to see Mirage again and see he was doing much better. The small gathering of 'bots began to chat among themselves, sharing tales about something or the other, or talking about the latest hot topic in Cybertron. Sunstreaker and Dead End exchanged some words relevant to the latest exhibition to take place in Iacon's gallery.

Bluestreak was happily chatting with Wheeljack, trying to pry stories about his uncles Ironhide and Ratchet from their days at the Academy. Mirage talked with Skywarp who was merely sharing his latest antics with Dirge and Ramjet. Grimlock and his younger brother, Sludge, were having a fine time of their own talking with Hound.

The time went by amidst energon goodies and energon cubes, Sunstreaker indulged the guests with a couple of songs, promising a proper performance the next time when he could drag his twin along. Sunstreaker knew Sideswipe was intentionally making himself somewhat scarce whenever he spent time with Bluestreak, wanting to make sure the Defensor noble would enjoy Sunstreaker's undivided attention. Sunstreaker made a mental note to retribute his brother at a later time.

When Sunstreaker sung a love song that could be easily danced to, Bluestreak dragged Hound and Mirage away from the table, pushing them together to sway to the melody, prompting good natured laughter from the other guests and their hosts. A couple of joors later, Bluestreak and Sunstreaker walked down the streets in a companionable silence until Bluestreak began to hum casually the melody Sunstreaker sung at the gathering.

Sunstreaker looked down at his lover, smiling a little at the content expression in the other mech's face plates. The Lambor noble wrapped his arms around Bluestreak's shoulders, pressing his head gently against the side of Bluestreak's helm. "Do you want to know a secret?"

Bluestreak smiled and tilted his head to look back at his lover, nodding. Sunstreaker pressed his face a little closer against the gray mech's audio, "I'm in love with you," he said softly before he pressed a kiss to Bluestreak's audio. The Defensor noble laughed softly, reaching a hand to curl his fingers around Sunstreaker's neck, turning a little more in Sunstreaker's embrace to pull his head down for a kiss. "And I'm in love with you, Sunstreaker."

The golden noble chuckled and stole another kiss from his lover before he pulled away to continue their walk together. "So, has your brother called your family yet?" Sunstreaker asked absently.

"He called when he arrived, he said he would call again by the end of the deca-cycle," Bluestreak replied. Sunstreaker nodded a little, wondering how Jazz was doing. He hadn't seen the other performer in the past couple of orns, and was worried about him.

"Jazz is fine, by the way," Bluestreak said, startling the performer.

"What?"

"You're worried about Jazz." The gray mech tilted his head to look at the Lambor noble, a little knowing smile spread across his lips. "He is doing fine. He's been tending to Prowl's tree and going about some project of his. At least it's what he said."

"Oh." Sunstreaker scratched one of his helm's fins, a bit taken aback by Bluestreak's apparent sudden ability to read his thoughts.

"He misses Prowl very much."

Sunstreaker frowned at the little hint of sadness in Bluestreak's voice. He knew Bluestreak didn't want Prowl to accept Megatron's invitation and the golden performer could easily admit he was upset with Prowl for the decision he took. "And you miss him, too."

"A little," Bluestreak admitted sadly. "But it's something he had to do. It's not every orn you get an invitation from Megatron himself."

"He didn't have to do that, Blue," Sunstreaker spat angrily. "He could have just said no."

"Would you reject that kind of invitation?"

Sunstreaker looked back at Bluestreak with a stern expression. "If it meant to leave behind my family and the mech I love, I would hands down."

Bluestreak smiled a little and took Sunstreaker's hand, squeezing it gently. "Prowl had to have his reasons, Sunny. Besides I have you here with me, don't I?"

"Yeah," Sunstreaker tried to smile a little, deciding to drop the subject for now. 'You have me, Blue, but who does Jazz have?'

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

Starscream kicked his legs to hide his discomfort. He was sitting down on a decorative block in the open grounds of his family's estate, listening, or at least pretending, to what Optimus was saying.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to look at Sunstorm in the optics again." Optimus rubbed the back of his neck casting a side glance at Starscream who seemed to be trying to look everywhere but at him. "I don't even want to begin to think about why or how Megatron knows all these things."

At that, Starscream let out a humorless chuckle. "At least it was Lord Megatron who told you these things. I had to heard them from my father!" Starscream cringed, trying not to conjure any visuals regarding his father's encounters with Sentinel Prime. "And he didn't spare any details either! Primus!"

"I... I am sorry, very, very sorry." Optimus patted the young seeker on his shoulder, being very careful to avoid his wing. "I think I'm starting to like your uncle Octane more."

Starscream snorted with a mixture of sarcasm and real humor. "So do I."

"If Megatron hadn't brought it up, I would have never realized how they were so close at the party was. The touches here and there." Optimus sighed heavily, a bit too dramatically at that, if only to try to lift the seemingly uncomfortable mood Starscream was in.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have paid attention to that kind of details if my father hadn't brought up his liaisons with the Prime." the future High Priest smiled a little at Sentinel Prime's youngest's overly dramatic sigh. "Better to know now than to walk on them while they're going at it?"

"sweet Primus, I don't even want to think about that."

The pair looked at each other for a moment then both burst into fits of laughter, despite Starscream's efforts to quiet down his laughter.

"That party could have gone better." Optimus commented off-handedly. "I mean, it was a good party, but there were certain unpleasant things about it."

Starscream sobered and shifted a little, wondering if the events in the balcony were part of those unpleasant things. "Such as?"

"Oh, Hot Rod being particularly unpleasant and openly hostile towards Springer, or Cliffjumper's stunt to name a few." Optimus didn't look at Starscream as he replied, straightening up a little before he turned to look at the seeker. "I also wanted to apologize for what happened in the balcony."

Starscream fought to keep his shoulders and back straight. "It's... quite all right."

Optimus's blue optics locked on Starscream's face, forcing himself slowly to meet his optics. "I didn't mean to treat you in such a way. I don't want you to think I was playing with you."

"Why did you finish me off? You could have just left." Starscream asked.

"It wouldn't have been nice to leave you like that, it was my fault after all." the youngest child of Sentinel Prime bowed his head genuinely apologetic. "I just want to make clear I don't think of you in any degrading fashion. Quite the contrary, I have a great respect for you."

Starscream opened his mouth to say something but Megatron's voice calling his brother stopped him.

"I better get going, we have duties to attend to. Until next time." Optimus bowed politely and turned around to meet with his brother. Starscream watched the mech walk away with Megatron, feeling relieved the awkwardness left by their latest meeting was gone.

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

Jazz hummed softly, putting away the gardening supplies he just finished using while giving a critical at his work on Prowl's tree. The black and white performer ran a hand along one of the polished facets of the largest cluster and nodded a little, satisfied with his work. Jazz turned around and stretched while he made his way to his quarters, heading straight for the energon dispenser to take a small cube, pondering to get in his private wash rack to relieve his sore body. He never really considered the work Prowl put into the care of his tree until he promised to take care of it while Prowl was gone.

A beeping sound coming from the terminal in his dorm caught his attention and the performer rushed to it. He smiled at the message displaying he had an incoming transmission and quickly typed the command to grant the permission to establish the connection.

"Hello, Jazz," Prowl greeted the performer chuckling softly when Jazz stopped bending over the chair and hurried to seat on it instead.

"Hello. I wasn't expectin' ya t'call at this time." The slave performer spared a quick glance at the timer displayed on the edge of the screen.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Jazz took in the slight dampness on his master's plating, realizing Prowl probably just came out of the wash racks himself. Jazz shifted, lamenting the timing a little - he wasn't a vain mech but he would have preferred to be a little more presentable. "Nope, I jus' got back like a few klicks ago."

"I see. How is everyone doing?" Prowl asked. Jazz noticed he looked a bit weary, suspecting the noble probably would fall right over his berth when the call ended.

"Everyone's doin' okay. Ya look tired, are they workin' ya too hard over there?" Jazz reached idly for a rag to clean his hands still stained with some of the fluid he used on Prowl's cluster.

"I'm a little worn out but that's to be expected. I'm receiving full training, including hand to hand combat, and my instructor doesn't exactly go easy on us." Prowl chuckled softly.

"Really? Who is the instructor?" Jazz asked with a mixture of interest and a little concern.

"Lord Megatron."

The visored mech gaped, and stared at Prowl's image in the video screen, looking him over for any dents in his plating.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I'm just a little sore." Prowl reassured. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing all right." Jazz paused and smiled a little sadly at Prowl, idly reaching to touch the screen with his black fingertips. "I miss you."

Prowl's optics softened and his own white fingers pressed against his side of the screen, right where Jazz's hand was. "I miss you, too."

The performer brushed his fingers a little against the screen, wishing he could feel Prowl. "I'm goin' ta be away in two orns," Jazz spoke softly, updating Prowl about his schedule and the compromises he had to attend to in the following orns so Prowl would know when he was available to receive his transmissions.

"I have to go now, I must be up pretty early." the Defensor noble said softly, and Jazz could tell Prowl was torn between staying up a little longer to talk with him or just downright crawl into his berth for some much needed recharge.

"Recharge well. Love you," Jazz said quietly.

Prowl nodded. "Love you, too. Rest well, Jazz." Prowl ended the transmission and Jazz turned off the screen of his terminal. He made his way to the wash racks to get himself cleaned. Although he missed Prowl, knowing the other loved him made his spark swell with joy. After washing himself and refueling properly, Jazz lay down on his berth, falling into a peaceful recharge.

----

Notes x 2: Yep, Sunny was probably singing "Do You Want To Know A Secret".

I am convinced...

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 03:29:01 GMT

I've come to the absolute conclussion the Bluestreak in my head either spends too much time with Sideswipe or is really Prowl's and Jazz's pit spawn because otherwise I can't understand where his fascination with Polka came from.

...Seriously Blue, Polka???

Done in OC because I refused to do this thing in my regular program.

...He's singing the first verse of Ievan Polkka...

Seriously Blue, wtf, Polka?! Careful for potential page stretch

I have no idea what I am doing...

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 19:15:44 GMT

This thing kinda wrote itself when my winamp played this. I don't know what the heck I just wrote. I don't know if I should write more of this or not.

Mirage watched the dancers with little interest, he hated coming to this place and hardly found the show to be of his liking. Still, business were business and he forced himself to watch the little 'welcoming gift' his host had for him. Every now and then the white and blue mech spared a glance at the mech standing straight and proud by his side. His bodyguard was a quiet mech, he spoke little and preferred to have his actions speak by themselves. He was, unlike many of the bodyguards other mechs employed, fairly small in size and hardly as imposing in appearance as other much larger bodyguards like their Prime's Ironhide.

It was precisely part of what made Prowl so good at his job. He appeared to be the least likely mech to be able to function as a bodyguard to the wealthy and apparently frail looking Mirage, and yet he had served him for three vorns already, always managing to keep his charge untouched when the situation called for his intervention.

Mirage knew Prowl was probably even less thrilled about the spectacle than he was, but as usual, remained faithfully quiet, probably inspecting the place and planning in his mind for all possible places where danger could come from and how to better take Mirage to safety if his business didn't go as smoothly as the young elite hoped.

That brought Mirage back to glancing around the dancers before him. The dance was a mixture between elegant, enticing movements and swirling glowing faux weaponry. Daggers, blades, chains, all moved along with their respective wielders, mostly femmes decorated with intricate armor pieces overlaid on their basic plating to enhance their looks and capture their audience's attention.

It was a far more exotic kind of dance than Mirage was used to, and despite his many attempts to try to find interest in the main dancer whose movements were bolder and far more sensuous, he just couldn't keep his attention on her or any of the other dancers for that matter. He wanted the show to be over already so he could get to his business with the establishment's owner.

Mirage spared a quick glance to his host, the mech was rather large and exuded the finesse comparable to that of a pit fighter. Still, the mech had some businessmech talent considering the establishment he owned and a few other far more legal endeavors. At his side he had what Mirage presumed were his own bodyguards.

The Towers' mech's optics flew from the visored black and white mech standing at his host's left, to the green mech standing at his host's right. Both were far smaller than the mech Mirage assumed they protected, and neither looked like bodyguard material themselves. Still, knowing looks could be deceiving - after all, Prowl wasn't a heavy weight himself - Mirage determined they were probably better fighters than their boss.

"I see the noble Mirage finds my assistants a more enjoyable sight than my dancers." The large mech's voice startled the Towers mech, but Mirage was quick to regain his composure.

"They are fine looking mechs," Mirage replied with a little cultured smile. The black and white mech wearing a visor smirked while the green mech bowed his head a little, both apparently appreciating the comment.

"Your, ah, companion isn't bad looking himself," The large mech replied, earning himself a very slight quirk of an optic ridge from the other black and white mech, but nevertheless Prowl bowed his own head thanking the compliment.

"Not a big talker is he?" the mech wearing the visor grinned, bringing his hands to rest on his hips.

Prowl glanced over at the other mech, narrowing his optics a little but remained silent otherwise.

"Jazz, do not be disrespectful." the large mech admonished his assistant with a stern look.

"Sorry." Jazz ducked his head, looking genuinely apologetic, though he beamed a little smile at Prowl. "I apologize."

Prowl nodded his forgiveness and pretended to look back into the show once more, his door wings raising and drooping ever so slightly, sensing every little movement around them fully alert.

Mirage turned his attention to the green mech who held a container with some of the finest high grade available in the city, refilling his boss' cube every now and then. Mirage looked back at his now empty cube, he didn't realize he had consumed the contents of the cube already.

"Hound, if you will, please?" The establishment's owner gestured his green bodyguard towards Mirage to refill his own cube. Hound, the green mech, nodded and graciously moved over to Mirage, carefully pouring more high-grade into the cube.

"Thank you," Mirage thanked the mech with a small smile - a smile that grew a little when Hound smiled back, a genuine and honest smile, devoid of the somewhat cocky attitude of the visored black and white.

I have absolutely no idea what I just wrote or if I should keep witting this. Music yer evil to meeeh~

Because you can't never have too much fluff.

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 10:25:01 GMT

Title: Away From Home.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Fluff, Fluff, Fluff, did I mention fluff?
Pairings: Implied OC Solstice x OC Meister.
Characters: Smokescreen, Prowl, Jazz, Bluestreak, OC Solstice, OC Meister.
Summary: Sparkling sitting at a certain 'will be Porsche someday's house.
Notes: Because the community needs some extra dose of fluff and this drabble demanded to be written. And because I can't seem to be able to concentrate on any of my other fics right now.

"It'll be only for a few joors," Smokescreen murmured as he stroked his little brother's back while he clung to him with both arms and legs, crying, chirping and clicking, occasionally managing a broken pronunciation of his oldest brother's name. "It'll be okay, Bluestreak. They'll take good care of you. Besides you're not staying here alone."

Bluestreak looked up at his brother with big blue eyes that showed just how distressed the sparkling was.

"Prowl's staying with you and Jazz lives here, you're going to be fine, Blue." Smokescreen stroked his baby brother's cheek and the sparkling seemed to calm down, knowing he wouldn't be all alone with these strangers. Smokescreen pried his little brother off his frame gently, handling the little bundle of parts to his other brother. Although Prowl was still a sparkling himself, he was used to looking after Bluestreak often.

"Take good care of him, all right?" Smokescreen stroked his black and white brother's helm gently, addressing an apologetic look at the adult mechs standing patiently in the door waiting until Bluestreak was convinced to let go of Smokescreen. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I cannot possibly miss this lecture."

"We understand completely. Don't worry, we'll take good care of Prowl and Bluestreak." A silvery mech reassured the young mech while his black and white mate led the sparklings inside. "Better hurry, don't want to be late for your class."

Smokescreen chuckled and waved, thanking the mech, Solstice, once more for looking after his brothers for the orn before he transformed and headed for his advanced education center.

Solstice sighed softly, thankful he was off duty that orn so he could help his mate, Meister look after the sparklings. Solstice admired Smokescreen for putting so much on hold for his two brothers. Shortly after Bluestreak was placed into his protoform, their creators received promotions in their respective fields of work, which often prompted one or both creators to travel or stay away from home for longer periods than usual. It didn't help at all that Bluestreak had immediately taken a disliking for the youth sectors.

Smokescreen was already an older youngling when Bluestreak was created, and upon seeing how distressed his baby brother was in his firs few stays at the youth sectors, the youngling insisted to take care of his brothers himself. That required some readjusting of his schedule and take classes from home, but it was a sacrifice he made gladly for his brothers. Albeit barely having learned to walk properly and speak a few words properly, Prowl was as helpful as he could manage attending to Bluestreak, so he rarely posed a problem.

Over time, their creators managed to influence their schedules to be available at home most of the time, allowing Smokescreen to attend the advanced education center, needing to skip classes only once in a while when it was absolutely necessary. Still, Smokescreen practically raised Prowl and Bluestreak by himself, and it he made it a routine to take Prowl to his preliminary education courses, where Prowl met Jazz, meeting by extension his creators, Solstice and Meister.

This orn proved to be problematic in all instances, as their creators had to travel out of the city, and Smokescreen had to attend to a very important lecture, and while Prowl didn't have to attend his own courses, he was still too young to look after Bluestreak all by himself. Smokescreen had been reluctant to take Bluestreak and Prowl to the youth sectors, and instead turned to Solstice and Meister.

"Gonna close the door any time soon, love?" Meister grinned and chuckled softly when he broke the other from his reflections regarding Smokescreen.

"Sorry." Solstice smiled sheepishly and closed the doors of their home unit, heading for a small room where he began to ready the sparklings' energon.

In their lounge, Jazz dragged around a chest full of toys and other playthings to share with Prowl and Bluestreak. Meister couldn't help but grin at how cute Jazz looked trying to drag the container that was as tall as him. A quick glance to Prowl revealed the young black and white sparkling with his tiny red chevron standing out in his prominently black and white color scheme. Prowl was a quiet and well behaved sparkling but was decidedly lively around Jazz, and Meister welcomed any chance to have him around simply because it made Jazz very happy.

Prowl tried to set his little brother down to help Jazz drag the chest, but Bluestreak immediately whimpered in protest, clinging to his brother and fluttering his door wings stressed, so Prowl merely slid to sit down in the floor, cradling his baby brother and chirping soothingly at him.

Meister smiled, marveling at the loving bond between the sparklings, and the amazing job Smokescreen had done raising his brothers. The black and white mech strode into the room, picking the chest Jazz was slowly dragging and helped his sparkling to carry it close to Prowl and Bluestreak, he laughed softly when Jazz trotted after him happily.

Meister opened the chest, and Jazz was quick to dive, quite literally, into the chest in search for something adequate to play with. "Easy there, Jazz. Don't want t'fall in there, now do ya?"

"Nu uh!" Jazz shook his head vigorously, chirping a little before he returned to his search for toys to play with. Bluestreak looked over with mild interest, cooing and chirruping, his little door wings raising and drooping as he did.

Meister eased himself to the floor next to the chest and carefully dug around Jazz's collection of toys, looking for something to entertain and ease Bluestreak. The visored mech pulled out what looked like a ball full of soft and tapered tips - one of Jazz's favorite toys when he was as young as Bluestreak.

The gray sparkling chirruped curiously at the offered toy and only then he released his grasp on Prowl, reaching his little hand to take the offered plaything. The sparkling clicked with interest, bringing it close to him to inspect the object beginning to coo in the process. Soon, Bluestreak was happily gnawing on the tapered tips of the toy.

"I can hold ya little brother while you go ta play with Jazz," Meister offered to Prowl, outstretching his arms. Prowl seemed to think about it for a moment, and deciding Bluestreak would be all right - after all he was going to stay within the sparkling's field of view; he handed the sparkling to his best friend's creator and was quickly dragged to the chest by Jazz.

When Solstice came into the room with his mate's and the sparklings' energon, he found Meister happily bouncing Bluestreak on his knees, humming a tune to the sparkling while he played contently with one of Jazz's toys. Prowl and Jazz were sitting by the toy chest, playing together with the toys scattered around them.

"Havin' fun?" Meister grinned and patted the floor next to him for his mate to sit down with him while he watched the sparklings. "Cute." Meister gestured at Prowl and Jazz, particularly the enormous smile on the sparkling's face plates while he played with his friend.

"Very." Solstice watched his sparkling play with Prowl for a while, going through the different kinds of entertainment and toys Jazz had. Solstice admitted that, although Jazz had quite a few friends and was rather ongoing and energetic, the sparkling seemed to be at his happiest whenever he was with Prowl.

After a while, Bluestreak decided he had played enough with the toy and let it drop to the ground, eyeing instead the glowing cubes of energon Solstice had laying around him. The silvery mech laughed softly and reached for the cube he mixed for the sparkling's delicate systems, handing it to Meister. Bluestreak, however, refused to accept the energon from the adult visored mech.

Prowl heard his little brother's struggle, and knew immediately what the little one wanted. The black and white sparkling with the red chevron picked his brother and sat cross legged on the ground, holding Bluestreak while he reached for the cube, opening a compartment on his arm to extract a small tube he dipped in the energon, handing it to his brother. Bluestreak squealed and cooed, wrapping his little fingers around the cube while he began to suckle the fluid through the straw.

"Picky mech, ain't he?" Meister chuckled and once again couldn't help but watch fondly Prowl and Bluestreak. Jazz reached for his own cube and sat with Prowl, moving his little legs so he was constantly banging the tips of each foot against each other. Meister offered another cube to Prowl so he could refuel himself as well.

While the sparklings were having their meal, Meister began to hum softly, leaning against his mate. Solstice laughed a little and hummed along, providing a different melody that melded perfectly with what Meister hummed. Bluestreak cooed with interest, and Prowl smiled a little, door wings raising a little in interest as they always did when Jazz's creators did that. In between sips of his own cube, Jazz began to hum, too, occasionally letting out an unintentional coo or chirp, as his speech wasn't fully ridden of those sounds yet.

Bluestreak squealed when the melody evolved into something a little more complex, fluttering his door wings and smiling while he did. Prowl smiled and held his little brother closer, his own door wings fluttered a little, though not nearly as wildly as Bluestreak's, enjoying the melody his friend and his creators produced.

When Smokescreen arrived to pick his brothers, he was surprised to be dragged inside and led to the lounge. What sight greeted him brought a fond smile to his lip components: Prowl was laying in the ground with Bluestreak curled in his arms and Jazz cuddled against him, with a thermal blanket draped over the trio.

Solstice extracted his sparkling quietly from under the blanket, taking the recharging Jazz to his own dorm while Smokescreen gathered his brothers in his arms. "Thank you for looking after them." Smokescreen murmured and held Prowl closer against his chest, pressing his lips to the golden crest of his brother's helm before pressing a kiss to the side of little Bluestreak's helm.

"We loved ta have 'em around. If ya need help any time don't hesitate to drop us a call, we'll be glad t'look after them any time," Meister replied quietly, watching Prowl stir just a little, remaining otherwise undisturbed.

"Will do. Thank you again." Smokescreen waved lightly, and left with his brothers towards his family's living unit.

"That was fun," Meister said softly, watching Smokescreen walk away.

"I hope you're not getting ideas about having more sparklings." Solstice wrapped an arm around his mate's shoulder, also watching the retreating blue mech.

"Why not?" Meister grinned playfully.

"Jazz wears us down enough as it is." Solstice joked. "And I'd like to have some energy left over for my mate, as well." He leered at the visored mech.

"Well, when ya put it like that..." Meister smiled and closed the door, taking his mate's hand to lead him further into their living unit.

Working on commmissions zomg

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 23:29:32 GMT

This is the sketch of a commission. This one is coming out a lot faster because the client wanted the picture to look 'very sketchy' so I'm not spending extra time cleaning or inking.

The basis of the picture was for Prowl and Jazz originally to look as Knights following a bit of a World of Warcraft's armor look, but that kinda fell flat because my mind prefers Ragnarok's designs. Prowl is a knight, while Jazz is an assassin, probably working for the uh... king, Prime, something another... yeah, let's leave it at that.

I think Sideswipe's not the only one channeling my insanity.

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 10:09:59 GMT

So, uh, yeah... You know the deal. Song plays, picture happens. Just a quickie before bed. Blame Madonna's Hanky Panky for this. And no, it's not implying Jazz 'likes it rought', at least from my end. He's just trying to tease/embarass Prowl, and said Datsun's considering to burn down Jazz's music collection (And mine for that matter).

Yes... those ARE Prowl's hancuffs. And yes, he's having one of those 'You're not right in the CPU, Jazz' moments.

It's angst weekend it seems.

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 12:05:20 GMT

Title: Until We Are One.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstage. A bit of mutilation.
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz 2007verse. Implied Sunstreaker/Sideswipe x Bluestreak, Hound x Mirage.
Summary: "To you I will remain loyal and true, until we are one."
Notes: Blame dark_daebereth and snugsbunny for this one. It's their fault. Also, until I confirm 100% (Aka, until I watch the damn movie or see the official CGIs) I'm keeping Sideswipe and Sunstreaker as Lamborghinis Reventon and Murcielago respectively. Mirage is a Ford GT like his Alternators version.

As usual, this isn't beta'ed.

At first Sam Witwicky thought the excitement of receiving new mechs in Earth would never cease for the Autobots. About twenty arrived in the lapse of an Earth year, and each single landing was met with excitement, eagerness and happiness to be reunited with old friends and comrades.

Sam thought he'd never see a day where the news of a new arrival were met with apprehension. But he saw that day, when the transmission was received announcing the arrival of another small team consisting of four mechs. One of the most recent arrivals to the planet, Hound, was happy about the news, as his bonded was among the incoming group, but even him seemed to be overtaken by the gloomy mood.

Sam didn't know why the knowledge about this mech's arrival seemed to upset the Autobots. Was he not their friend? Until Bluestreak saw fit to fill their human allies about it, the incoming mech was his brother, after all.

"Aren't you happy you're going to see him finally?" Mikaela asked to the silvery Nissan 350z.

"It's complicated." Bluestreak took a seat by the human sized couch in their base's recreation room. "I am happy because my brother's coming. But... well, you two remember Jazz, right?"

"He wasn't exactly easy to forget," Mikaela replied with a sad smile. Sam nodded.

"Jazz was my brother's intended mate."

Sam couldn't help but wince visibly, while Mikaela settled for a quiet "I see". It all made sense now.

"I admit I'm glad I'm not the one to break that to him." Sam shifted uncomfortably.

Bluestreak nodded, he wasn't looking forward to Prowl's reaction either. "It's going to be hard, especially because they promised each other this planet would be where they'd finally bond to each other."

Mikaela couldn't help herself, and reached to take her boyfriend's hand, squeezing it hard, reassuring herself he was there and she was lucky to have him despite the danger he put himself in for the Autobots during the battle for the All Spark. "When are they landing?" Sam asked, unsure whether he wanted to be present or not.

"Tomorrow at night." Bluestreak's door wings drooped lightly, trying to prepare emotionally for what he knew would happen once Prowl uttered the question everyone dreaded to answer. For vorns Prowl had been there to support his young brother through the brutality of the war. Now, Bluestreak knew it was his turn to return the favor and be the shoulder Prowl could lean on.

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

"It's time, Blue," Sideswipe murmured as he stood at the entrance of the room that had become the place where Jazz's body was kept for the time being. Although not bonded, Prowl was still considered Jazz's mate through and through, and it was him who had to decide what would be done with Jazz's body, thus they kept it in that room until Prowl's arrival.

Bluestreak brushed his fingers along one of Jazz's arms to his clawed hand, wishing with all his spark that Jazz would move, say something, for the visor to light up and hear him greet him. But he knew there was no spark in that body. No life to animate the shell. No Jazz to say hi to him. No Jazz to pounce Prowl and berate him for taking so long.

"Blue," Sideswipe pressed. He didn't want to go either, but he knew they had to. Bluestreak sighed heavily and turned around to face one of his lovers, nodding quietly as he strode out of the room. Sideswipe cast a last glance at the shell, and shook his head before he followed after the Nissan.

The drive to the landing coordinates felt almost like a funeral convoy. Everyone was silent through the trip. Sam and Mikaela could feel the uneasiness in the ambient, the nervousness. When the sun began to set, they arrived to the place where the four new Autobots would land. They waited a minute, maybe two, when the first comet-shaped protoform landed not far from there, four or five minutes later, a second comet landed a little closer to them, then a third, and finally a fourth a little closer to the city's outskirts.

They waited patiently, soon enough a white Saab approached them, followed by a blue Ford GT with white racing stripes. Hound could barely contain himself as the GT approached, he knew in his spark the mech who picked that alternate mode. Bluestreak's wings twitched when he caught sight of a red Camaro, just like Bumblebee, followed by a Dodge Charger modified into a police interceptor.

Once the four vehicles reached the group of Autobots, they transformed. Hound smiled widely as Mirage stood to his full height, stretching elegantly to relieve the strain of his first transformation under his new alt mode. The Ford GT cast a quick glance around the gathered group, and a small smile of his own graced his lip components when his optics fell on the Jeep that was his mate.

"Welcome to Earth, my friends," Optimus Prime stepped forward, and the group was quick to stand to attention, Wheeljack, Mirage, Cliffjumper and Prowl saluted the Autobot commander. "Sir!"

"At ease." Prime smiled a little, turning to look at Mikaela, Sam and Will Lennox. "Please, allow me to introduce you to a few of our human allies and friends. Sam, Mikaela, Captain Lennox, allow me to introduce you to Prowl, our military tactician."

Prowl nodded quietly, twitching his door wings lightly as he uttered a soft greeting, trying his best not to look around for a certain mech among the crowd just yet. Once Prime moved on to introduce the other mechs, he allowed himself to search through the gathering of mechs, smiling a little as he spotted Bluestreak, flanked by his two lovers, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. He caught sight of a familiar shape and glowing visor on the back, but restrained himself. There would be time for reunions later.

"And this is our Spy and counter intelligence agent, Mirage."

Mirage quirked an optic ridge looking down at the three humans but gave a polite nod. "It's a pleasure." the Ford GT cast a quick glance back to his mate and could barely hold back a sound of amusement --Hound was twitching. "If you excuse me, there's someone I need to greet properly."

The humans watched the sports car make his way with rather a elegant stride for a giant alien robot towards the green Jeep, who couldn't contain himself anymore and rushed to meet his mate, proceeding to lift Mirage and spin him around despite the blue mech's protests and cries to be put down.

Prowl smiled a little as he watched the exchange before he headed to give a preliminary report to Optimus Prime. Once that task done, Prowl headed towards the mech on the back, stopping in his tracks when he realized that wasn't the mech he was looking for.

"Hello, Prowl." Smokescreen greeted the Charger, feeling particularly uneasy once he realized Prowl had confused him with his brother, Jazz.

"Greetings, Smokescreen." Prowl nodded but frowned, looking around once more in search of his future mate. When he couldn't find him, he turned back to Smokescreen. "Where is Jazz?"

At that moment Smokescreen wished the ground would crack open and swallow him whole. He almost sighed in relief when Bluestreak and the twins approached the police cruiser, a sombre expression adorned his usually cheerful visage. "Prowl, we have to talk."

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

Sam and Mikaela stood on Bumblebee's hands as they watched the black and white mech staring at the lifeless body of his lover. Bluestreak took the responsibility of telling Prowl about Jazz's death, and Optimus Prime informed him of his last moments, his last act of defiance against Megatron, in hopes to keep the All Spark out of his reach.

Nobody knew what to expect as reaction. For a long time Prowl remained quiet, digesting the information, until he asked in a soft, barely audible voice to be taken to Jazz's remains. The police cruiser stood there, one hand clasping Jazz's. He didn't speak, didn't move, until he turned to look back at Optimus Prime with blue optics that had become a paler shade.

Prowl whispered something only Optimus Prime seemed to catch. The Peterbilt nodded and extended the blade concealed in his arm. Everyone reared back, suddenly tense.

"What is he doing?" Mikaela asked with concern.

Bluestreak bowed his head sadly. Ironhide and Ratchet edged a little closer, quietly urging the present mechs to back off. All present mechs bowed their heads, before Sam and Mikaela could ask what was going on, the saw Prowl lower himself to his knees, bowing his own head before Prime. With a quick strike, Prime's blade cut through the air, and all mechs raised their heads at the sound of metal falling against the ground.

"Why did he do that?!" Mikaela stared bewildered at the piece of red metal that had fallen to the ground between Prowl and Prime --part of his chevron. Prowl picked the cut piece and moved back to Jazz's body, carefully reaching to change the position of his hands, bringing them to his chest, and deposited the piece of his chevron in his beloved's clawed hands. He spoke loud and clear as he did in their native language.

Mikaela was about to ask what was going on once again when Ironhide turned to them, understanding shining in his optics. "It's his oath."

"To you I belong," Sunstreaker said softly, translating Prowl's oath.

"To you I make this promise," Sideswipe continued where his brother left.

"Until my time comes, to you I trust a piece of me," Bluestreak added.

"To you belong my words," Ironhide added softly.

"To you I make this promise," Ratchet continued.

"To you I will remain loyal and true, until we are one." Bluestreak finished. Watching his brother press his forehead to Jazz's. Optimus Prime turned around and addressed his troops, urging the mechs to leave Prowl alone. Everyone followed after their leader, looking back at the mourning tactician for a moment before they left.

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

Mikaela played a little with the flowers of her bouquet, watching from her seat as her now husband, Sam, talked with his parents and other trusted friends that had come to their private wedding held among the Autobots. Bumblebee was happily allowing Cliffjumper and Arcee to decorate his alt mode in the proper 'garb' to take the young couple to their honey moon.

All the Autobots talked among themselves and the humans, exchanging impressions about the wedding and their own ceremonies. All but one, who remained in a corner, watching silently. Mikaela played with the flowers of the bouquet some more, watching Prowl in his corner. The mech hadn't spoken a word outside of his official duties in over five years, and although outside of his silence he behaved as he usually did, according to Bluestreak, Mikaela could tell every single day Prowl was hurting. Today, particularly, because he was reminded of what he couldn't have with Jazz.

The young bride looked down at her bouquet, and a thought crossed her mind. She moved towards Prowl, mindful of her simple but beautiful dress, she greeted him quietly, and he turned to look at her, offering a tiny smile and a nod as reply.

"You know, traditionally we throw the bouquet to let some other girl catch it. It's supposed to mean that girl will be the next to marry," Mikaela explained, fixing the ribbon tied around the white flowers, looking back at Prowl. "But this time, I would like to give it to someone else... if you don't mind."

Prowl understood her words and smiled sadly, offering his white hands to the young bride. Mikaela climbed into his palms, sitting down to allow the Autobot tactician to carry her out of the room. Prowl took Mikaela to the room that had become Jazz's mausoleum, where his body lay in the exact position it did when Prowl made his oath to Jazz and his mourning began.

Prowl deposited Mikaela in the metal bed where his love's body laid. Mikaela smiled sadly at Jazz, and stroked his shoulder gently, carefully edging over to his hands that still grasped the piece of Prowl's chevron, slipping the bouquet carefully between his fingers.

Prowl allowed the girl to watch the Solstice's body for a few moments until she looked back at him, and he offered his hands to her once more to take her back to her own mate.

The night dragged on and Prowl retired to his quarters to recharge after Bumblebee left the small party with the newly weds. Prowl laid on his berth, quickly drifting into recharge. The hours passed and in his rest, he felt a calling, a voice that urged him to follow, beckoning him with the promise everything would be all right. A silvery hand ghosted over Prowl's white one, and the Charger knew everything would be all right from then on.

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

Bluestreak laid Prowl's body in the enlarged metal bed, brushing a finger gently along his now repaired, polished chevron. The young gunner took his brother's white hand, and reached to take Jazz's silvery one, intertwining their fingers.

Bluestreak moved away from the bodies of his brother and his lover. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker moved forward, each one reaching to take one of the Nissan's hands. Around them, all Autobots stood, heads bowed respectfully, grieving the loss.

"At least," Sunstreaker murmured, "They are together now."

Bluestreak nodded. "They are finally one."

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

Notes x 2: My apologies if this ended up being too similar to purajo's Soul Mates, I just know I didn't want to resurrect Jazz on this one, sowwy. Man, I need some fluff now.

And before bed time

Sat, 04 Oct 2008 11:29:00 GMT

Title: Your Hand In My Hands.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstage and some fluff. I was told this needed a tissue warning, so here it is.
Pairings: Ironhide x Ratchet 2007verse. Implied Prowl x Jazz.
Summary: Sometimes it takes a hard blow to realize you've wasted time.
Notes: A gift fic for mmouse15 because I say so! (And because she's too nice with me TT-TT) Sorry it's a bit in the sucktastic side.

As usual, this isn't beta'ed.

Sometimes Ironhide wondered why Ratchet forced himself to weld together the shell that once had been the body of a respected comrade, and dear friend. He knew it hurt Ratchet to know he couldn't do anything to spare Jazz's traumatic, painful last moments, and he knew it hurt Ratchet even more to put the shell together, knowing Jazz's optics would never light up again.

Perhaps as self imposed punishment for being unable to do anything to save Jazz, for being too late, for being unable to do enough. For failing to save one more precious life of a race that was now in the verge of extinction. And what for? Ironhide wasn't so sure anymore.

The Topkick would be the first to admit, even in his eagerness to see more Autobots coming to Earth, that there was one among them he wished would never find his way to the planet if he was still functioning. No, Ironhide did not look forward to see Prowl landing and ask for the one mech who was brass enough to take on Megatron alone, if only to buy them some time, as minimal as it had been.

In a way, he envied Prowl, because at least he'd had the luxury of spending time with Jazz, of the small reprieves he could manage with the silvery mech he so much loved even through the war. Ironhide, instead, was only allowed to look, but never touch. He was allowed close as a friend, but never anything more than that.

He knew the burning within his spark wasn't unrequited, but he also knew Ratchet was afraid to let himself be involved with one mech alone, to give so much of him to one single being. He was afraid of being put in the position Prowl would be thrust, if the mech ever landed in this strange planet. Ratchet did not want to allow himself to love and be loved back, because he was afraid of the loss.

Ironhide tried to understand him, to accept his reasons --and for some time they managed to keep themselves from crossing the line between friendship and something more involved. But now, with the All Spark gone, with the Autobots and whatever Decepticons were left scattered across the universe, the restrains that kept them from coming closer were broken, and Ironhide desired more than ever to cross the line.

"I know what you're thinking."

Ratchet's voice brought him away from his musings abruptly, and the Topkick had to double take at the medic. "What?"

"You're wondering why I am trying to put him together," Ratchet spoke absently, carefully pulling out broken wires and cables, replacing them with an almost fatherly tenderness with brand new components supplied by their human allies. He wasn't just putting together the halves of the broken mech, he was completely replacing anything too broken an damaged within Jazz's body. Clean, unscathed.

"You're wastin' brand new materials in a mech that's no longer functioning." Despite his harsh words, Ironhide felt a pang of hurt as he reminded the medic and himself Jazz was gone.

"Jazz deserves this more than anyone, Ironhide." The search and rescue vehicle spoke with a calm that almost contradicted his infamous temper. "And he deserves to at least have his intended in the best shape I can provide. Even if we know Jazz is gone."

Ironhide did not need to be told who Ratchet was talking about. Another reason why Ironhide did not want to see Prowl land in this planet --Jazz and Prowl wanted to hold a bonding ceremony once they were reunited, but that was one wish that would be impossible to fulfill. "Just don't work yourself to your own grave." Ironhide answered finally, turning around to leave the mech to his work.

"Why, Ironhide, I didn't know you cared," The chartreuse mech teased with a smirk.

The Topkick stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. "You should know I care. I care too fraggin' much, Ratchet."

Ratchet looked down at the body he was working on, brushing the tips of his yellow digits over the section of Jazz's plating splintered when he was torn in half. "I can't pretend anymore, Ironhide."

Ironhide sighed and turned around, striding across the room to take hold of Ratchet's wrist. "Please, don't." Ratchet murmured his plea refusing to look back at Ironhide. "Look at him. So full of promises, of youth, of hopes, without fear."

"He wasn't fearless, Ratchet." the black mech reached to take hold of the medic's chin, forcing him gently to look back at him. "He did what he had to do, and I'm sure not without regrets."

Ratchet sighed heavily looking away once more, deep in thought. Even though Jazz and Prowl were the perfect example of his fear to allow himself to pour all his love into one mech alone, they enjoyed what time they had together, and that was something not even Megatron could take away from them.

"Would you do it with me?" Ratchet cleared his intakes, giving Ironhide an uncharacteristic apprehensive look.

"Do what?" Ironhide asked with confusion, reaching to stroke the armor plate by the medic's lip components.

"Would you bond with me?"

Ironhide smiled, pulling the smaller mech against him, pressing his forehead tenderly against Ratchet's. "Just say the words, and my spark is yours."

Ratchet smiled and bumped the tip of his nose against Ironhide's face. "The sooner, the better."

"No ceremony?" Ironhide teased.

"Frag the ceremony, I'm not that kind of mech." Ratchet grinned as Ironhide's booming laughter filled the otherwise quiet makeshift medical bay.

"Ruin my chance to be romantic." Ironhide snorted but pulled away, beginning to walk away to exit the medical bay.

Ratchet pulled a large piece of fabric over Jazz's body, murmuring and apology and a promise to finish his body soon before he followed after Ironhide.

It's only right to think about the mech you love and hold him tight~

Sat, 04 Oct 2008 00:29:19 GMT

I blame vericus for reminding me of this fragging song. It's a quick little something for vericus xaefryl, dark_daebereth and snugsbunny who are having some awful days it seems. It's literally a 10 mins sketch.

Take a wild guess...

Fri, 03 Oct 2008 01:55:00 GMT

Yeah, take a wild guess to what I was listening to when Sideswipe took over my brain again.

So, if Prime is apparently the 'mother effin' Batman', then Sideswipe is...

Because someone needs a hug and I'm a few continents too far.

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 22:47:35 GMT

Title: Caramel - for huntingospray
Rating: PG-13/R
Warnings: Weirdness all around.
Pairings: Were!Prowl x Vampire!Jazz
Summary: A certain pair take the phrase 'love bites' to the extremes.
Notes: A gift fic for huntingospray *hugs and sends love*

"Stop it, that tickles!" Jazz squirmed underneath the body that kept him pressed against the floor, barely able to restrain the volume of his giggling.

"Is that so?" a voice purred against one of his helm horns. "I wonder where else are you ticklish." The owner of the voice trailed lip components down along the side of the helm purring once more when he reached the underside of the helm's edge. "Maybe here?" Prowl's ears flickered and he tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought, pondering the possibilities of Jazz being, in fact, ticklish in that area between his helm and jaw.

"Oh, don't ya dare!" Jazz barely had the time to finish his sentence before he gasped and began to giggle again, squirming and buckling under his mate's weight. Prowl was currently straddling him, keeping his legs pressed firmly against the Porsche's sides to keep his own legs trapped. He held both of Jazz's hands over his head with the strong grip of his clawed hands on the saboteur's wrists.

"Primus, Prowl!" Jazz gasped in between fits of laughter and giggles as Prowl seemed to find with far too much ease for Jazz's taste, all the areas where apparently Jazz's plating was, in his own words, ticklish. "All this jus' because I was bein' affectionate?"

"You bit me," Prowl replied with a frown that failed to conceal the utter amusement he was finding in his mate's current predicament. "You started this. I'm just finishing it." Prowl flickered his ears again and Jazz had to hold back the urge to lunge for the nearest one and administer more 'affection' to the appendage.

"It was just a love bite!" Jazz tried to defend himself.

"You still bit me, and that still hurt." Prowl stated calmly, though his tail began to sway from side to side, brushing teasingly against the Porsche's legs.

"Okay, I admit I bit a little harder than I intended, but it was still jus' a love bite!"

"Apparently," the Datsun trailed and tilted his head, ears falling back a little against his head, and Jazz knew right there and then he was in trouble. "You need to be taught the proper way to give a --how did you call it? Ah, yes. A 'love bite'."

Jazz watched Prowl's mouth curve into a loop sided smile, baring a sharp fang as he did. It was all the warning he received before Prowl administered his own version of a love bite on the tip of his helm horn, gnawing the tip of the protrusion playfully while he purred loud enough for Jazz to hear. The Porsche burst into another fit of giggles, squirming and bucking against Prowl's body.

"O-Okay!" Jazz wheezed, trying to speak through his own giggles and the playful growling of his mate. "I give! I give!" Prowl gave a last playful tug on the horn before he let it go and pressed his forehead to the saboteur's, watching the other mech's intakes slowing down as his giggles died down. The saboteur managed a trembling grin for his mate, watching Prowl smile back.

"Yer such a biter, Prowler."

Prowl's smile widened just a little. "I thought you were the biter, here."

"Oh, I am." Jazz purred and nipped playfully Prowl's chin. "But can't say I don't like it when ya are the one bitin' back."

The Datsun chuckled softly. "You're incorrigible."

"That's me, baby."

Wheee late night experiments.

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 10:25:12 GMT

This is an experiment I wanted to try, and also as means to appease my Sideswipe and Jazz muses with this song that has been haunting me the past few days.

This is a series of drabbles based in specific lyrics of one song, applying them to different pairings/characters to see what I could come up with. nkfloofiepoof helped me select some of the pairings and assigned the lyrics I gave her. These aren't exactly made of awesome and win, but eeh... it's an experiment anyway.

The Song in question: The Show Must Go On - By Three Dog Night.

Title: The Show Must Go On - Lonely Life.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstyness.
Pairings: Hinted Prowl x Jazz.
Characters: Mirage, Jazz, Prowl.
Prompt: "Baby, although I chose this lonely life It seems it's stranglin' me now."

"It's the life we chose." Jazz muttered, downing the contents of his cube of high grade in one gulp.

"No, it's not," Mirage countered, tracing a black digit along the edge of his own, barely touched cube. "It's the life we were forced into. The life our abilities forced us to lead in this conflict."

"We accepted it, though. We chose willingly ta join the ranks an' become part of special operations." The saboteur reached for a second cube, drinking its contents as fast as he did the first.

"A path you now regret," Mirage said pointedly, watching his team leader reach for a third cube, frowning.

"I don't regret what I do." Jazz corrected quickly, looking around casually. His optics stopped for a moment on the corner where another black and white mech nursed his own cube of energon, going through the files in a pad, completely isolated from the other groups of mechs enjoying some energon or high grade of their own.

Mirage did not miss a beat, even as Jazz looked away from Prowl to continue looking around the room. "Yet this life is strangling you."

Jazz turned back to look at his team mate. "What?"

"You're tired, Jazz." The blue and white mech spoke softly, obvious concern slipping in his tone. "You're tired of the loneliness you've imposed over yourself."

Jazz quirked an optic ridge behind the visor.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." Mirage frowned again. "You know very well although you surround yourself with many mechs --that have so many friends, you feel lonely. You're surrounded of mechs, yet feel alone because nobody can come closer. Not even your teammates."

Jazz smiled bitterly, grabbing a fourth cube of high grade. "Ain't that the truth." the saboteur played with his cube, casting a quick glance back to that corner in the room. "NOthin' I can do 'bout it, though. I'm the fraggin' head of special operations, you know what that entails, Mirage."

Mirage shrugged and stood, moving aside to leave. "It doesn't mean you have to be completely alone. Not when there's someone you want to share yourself with." the spy squeezed Jazz's shoulder as he passed by, leaving the room.

Jazz heaved a sigh, bringing the cube to his lips, taking a small sip only this time. He looked back to that corner, just watching the other mech work absently. Prowl, unlike him, rarely interacted with other mechs outside of their official duties, sometimes Jazz wondered if the tactician felt lonely as well.

As if he could feel the optics looking at him, Prowl looked up straight on Jazz's direction, holding his gaze with the saboteur's. For a while they just stared at each other, until Prowl quirked the corner of his mouth in an almost imperceptible smile. Door wings twitched just a little as the tactician gestured the seat next to him in invitation.

Jazz barely realized the moment his body reacted almost on its own accord, suddenly finding himself striding towards the tactician's table. He knew, though, he was tired of being alone, it was time to tear down the walls he built around himself, and hope that maybe the other mech would want to cross the line left by the falling walls of his lonely life.

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Title: The Show Must Go On - Wasted Time.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstyness.
Pairings: Blaster x Soundwave.
Characters: Blaster, Soundwave, Ravage, Ratbat.
Prompt: "'Cause I've been blind. Oh, so blind. I wasted time Wasted, wasted, all too much time."

Ravage would have growled if he had the strength to do so, trying to warn the Autobot to stay away from his creator. He fought off the weakness that kept him propped on the ground, trying to ignore the pain, and the leaking energon coming from only Primus knew what part of his frame, but in the end he was just too weak to move.

"It's all right. I won't warm him," Blaster murmured without looking back at Ravage, carefully, tenderly digging Soundwave's body from under the rubble.

Ravage merely grunted unhappily, frustrated with his inability to protect Soundwave, even though he was certain Blaster would stay true to his words and no harm would befall his creator. The weakened cassette turned to look back at his youngest brother, Ratbat. All but a sparkling compared to himself, the little bat cassette was leaking just as he did, forced into stasis lock to preserve his spark.

"I'll be there in a moment." Blaster assured once he laid Soundwave into a nearby block of abandoned structures. Much to Ravage's chagrin, he was forced to accept the help of his creator's rival... and once lover. It felt so odd to admit to himself what Blaster once meant for Soundwave. What he still meant for the Decepticon, despite how well he hid it, how deeply he buried the feelings he had for the mech.

Careful and gentle hands picked his weakened body, cradling him against his chest plates as he carried him to Soundwave, quickly beginning to patch up his injuries and the leaking energon line to keep him online.

Ravage flinched when he felt the psychic link with Soundwave bursting to life once again, knowing the other mech was now online. Soundwave made no movement, watching Blaster pick Ratbat, setting him down next to Ravage and beginning to try to repair what damage he could patch up.

Soundwave watched in silence the tender side Blaster didn't use often with other mechs. The care he had while handling creations that not only were not his own, but were his enemies. Memories of happier times, together, caring for Ravage and Laserbeak together. The times when they laughed, when they held each other in a comforting embrace, the passion brewing between them both.

And then came the memories of the fights, the arguments over what side was right in the growing conflict, the painful separation, and the growing rivalry between them both. Love was pushed aside to give room to ideals. Soundwave wondered where those ideals led him to. What was left of the glorious future he believed justified the crude methods Megatron employed? What was left of the dreams he placed above his love for Blaster? What was left now of that wasted time?

Ravage bumped his nose gently against his creator's leg, feeling his growing regret. Soundwave did not speak, did not move.

'I've been so blind.'

Ravage could do nothing more than nuzzle Soundwave's leg comfortingly. Against his better judgment, Ravage hoped maybe it was not too late to make amends.
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Title: The Show Must Go On - Masquerade.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstyness.
Pairings: Optimus Prime x Starscream.
Characters: Starscream, Optimus Prime, Thundercracker, Skywarp.
Prompt: "Baby, I wish you'd help me escape. Help me get away. Leave me outside my address. Far away from this masquerade.

"Take him away," Thundercracker thrust the beaten body of the blue, white and red seeker into the arms of the Autobot leader.

"What is the meaning of this?" Optimus Prime cast a quick, wary glance at the offline Decepticon air commander, fearing this to be a trap.

"What does it look like?" Skywarp spat angrily, obviously unhappy with what they were doing. "That fool is going to get himself killed the longer he stays with the Decepticons."

"Megatron won't be merciful with him much longer," Thundercracker explained a little more evenly. "You are his only chance of survival now. We entrust him to you."

Prime looked back at Starscream's face plates once more, marred and dented, courtesy of what he was sure were Megatron's 'mercies' delivered after the latest act of rebellion of the ambitious seeker. His spark ached for him. He had long desired to bring Starscream to his side, to take his unlikely lover with him, away from Megatron's clutches, but this was definitely not the way he hoped it would happen.

"What about you two?" Prime held the unconscious mech closer to him, cradling him in a protective manner against his chest plates. Skywarp frowned, lip components pressed into a tight line of disapproval --It was evident he didn't approve nor appreciate Starscream's relationship with the Prime.

"We're going back to he Nemesis." Skywarp replied.

"But if you go back, Megatron will punish you."

"We have nowhere else to go." Thundercracker countered, raising a hand to silence the other mech before Prime could even talk. "We cannot go with you. It's not our place."

"We're only letting you take Starscream because you're the only one who can keep him safe anymore." Skywarp crossed his arms over his chest, making no attempt to hide his displeasure with the situation. "The slagger pushed Megatron's buttons for too long, and things will not be getting any better if he remains with the Decepticons."

Thundercracker cast a last glance at Starscream, knowing all too well this would be the last time he'd see his brother. He wanted to follow, yes, but he knew Skywarp needed him more than Starscream did. After all Starscream had the prime to help him out, to take him away from the Decepticons, and the pitiful masquerade their cause had become.

"Take care of him." With that said, both seekers turned around and launched themselves to the sky, transforming to fly away, knowing they would never be with Starscream again.
--------------------------

Title: The Show Must Go On - Tearing Down The Walls.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angstyness.
Pairings: Hound x Mirage.
Characters: Mirage, Hound, OC Axalon.
Prompt: "I wish maybe they'd tear down the walls of this theatre. Let me out, let me out.

A jeweled cage of fine and rare metals and crystals. That was what his home at the towers was. Axalon's beautiful child, whom had it all and at the same time had nothing at all.

Mirage sat next to his creator's seat in one of the balconies of their home, their precious golden cage, watching the military parade as the troops marched into the Towers, presenting themselves before the elite they served.

Mirage dared a quick glance around him, watching many more noble mechs and femmes sitting in their balconies, watching the parade, all like precious pets exhibited before one another, being judged at every klick with the ruthless, critic optic of the elders and heads of each family, trying to pin point the weakest link in the chain, bring it down and move a step further into the social ladder.

A jungle decorated in precious and ostentatious materials, with inhabitants crafted with elegance, wrapped in luxurious materials, yet they were the most vicious beasts anyone could ever find in Cybertron. Beautiful, finely crafted facial plates that would not think twice to stain with the energon of the fallen. Mechs and femmes that would devour one another in order to climb up further up, hoping for more power, more possessions.

But Mirage knew, he knew the world he lived in. He knew himself an exotic pet living in his luxurious prison. Yet, as he peered down at the mechs marching and saluting across the streets below their frivolous balconies, that down there, among the commoners, a mech managed to crack the walls of his cage. The thought was both frightening and exhilarating. He was afraid of tearing down the cracked walls and step into a world much different from his own, but the simple brush of that mech's hand against his own made him feel more alive than he ever had in his whole life.

The smile of the mech that now saluted and marched before his own balcony, coaxed him a little further away from the case with every passing orn, inviting him to tear down the walls, and run fearlessly into the unknown.

So... do we remember?

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 09:54:22 GMT

Do we remember what is it what my brain always wants me to draw/write whenever I listen to "Arrival to Earth"? Yeaaaah... something kinda quick that I pulled before bed because my brain wouldn't let go until I drew this. >_> Nothing special really, kinda bleh. Maybe I'll color it some day.

Regardless, this pic is potentially NSFW. Was going to add energon/colant somewhere but I got lazy. Go me. I go to bed nao.

Horribly late, as usual, but the thought's what counts, right?

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 07:25:11 GMT

Because I am made of fail, like half a month later, but here's a little something for purajo. Hope you like it! It took forever to get that plushie to somewhat resemble... well. Try to guess who.

Yes, I am aware it took me forever to post a fic this week. This one's for Casha~

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 03:02:18 GMT

Title: Bring it On. (5/??)
Rating: PG-13 / Humor / Drama
Warnings: Crack. Lots and lots of crack in abundance.
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz, Ironhide x Ratchet, Inferno x Red Alert, Hound x Mirage, Blaster x Soundwave, Sunstreaker x Bluestreak, Optimus Prime x Starscream, Trailbreaker x Wheeljack, Cliffjumper x Bumblebee, Hot Rod x Arcee x Springer.
Summary: The war has come to an unexpected halt, and with it came some developments. The cyber stork is going to work overtime and skip vacation in the Ark.
Notes:More of Optimini's antics, more Pathfinder, and an expecting Security Director. As usual, Optimini belongs to nkfloofiepoof. Red Alert went exceptionally uncooperative on this one, so, my apologies for the suckage.

I've borrowed a few things from beckyh2112. This is crack and written mainly to indulge friends I wuv too much.

Prowl would have liked to say things were slowly going back to normal in the Ark, but in his opinion, the Ark stopped being normal about three births ago.

As if to prove his point, Prowl walked into the recreation room with the noble intention to get some energon for himself and his mate to start their shifts, and was welcomed by the rather unexpected sight of Starscream, sharing a table with Wheeljack and Perceptor, engaged in some scientific discussion. Little Pathfinder was cradled in Wheeljack's arms, fully online but quiet. Nestled in Starscream's arms, Optimini was also very much awake, and glaring daggers at the newest arrival with what Prowl assumed had to be a scowl behind his little mask.

Prowl greeted the mechs casually and made his way to the dispenser to grab a pair of cubes for himself and Jazz, doing a fine job at ignoring Optimini's sudden burst to life, clicking and chirping at him, definitely wanting to be picked and played with. In a way, Prowl couldn't say he didn't understand the sparkling's apparent dislike for Pathfinder, after all, the sparkling was garnering all the attention lately. Not even Prowl had it in him to ignore the sparkling whenever he passed close enough for Pathfinder to feel the currents of air change around him, and thus turn his head towards the source of the change. Still blind and deaf, Pathfinder was a very tactile mech, and thrived on the touch of other mechs.

No, not even Prowl could bring himself to deny the sparkling the gentle brush of a white finger tip over his cheek, or stroke the sparkling's palm to let him know he was there. Not like he had a reason to deny Pathfinder anything in the first place, he hardly cried and was offline most of the time, recharging in order to strengthen his systems and finish developing. Optimini, however, saw the sparkling as a rival for all the attention, and Prowl had come to the conclusion Optimini wanted attention every second he was online.

The Datsun really, really hoped more of Optimus Prime's personality would bloom into the sparkling or he feared for the temper tantrums the sparkling would throw once he was old enough to go anywhere on his own.

Once he had both cubes filled, and after brushing his finger over Pathfinder's little palm as greeting of his own, Prowl took the cubes and left the recreation room, fully aware of the angry clicking Optimini was throwing in his general direction.

Along the way to his office, Prowl dropped by Jazz's leaving the cube on his desk for his mate, and after messing around a little with the trinkets and personal effects Jazz had around his desk to appease the neat freak in him, the Datsun turned around and headed for his own office. He had barely sit down and turned the terminal on, just about to take a sip of his energon when the door chimed and a very exhausted looking Red Alert invited himself in, handing Prowl the latest security reports.

"Good Morning, Red Alert," Prowl greeted and quirked an optic ridge at the mumbled 'morning, Prowl' he got as reply before the mech was gone. The tactician heaved a long sigh and eyed the pads, bringing his cube to his lips again to sip its contents. Prowl was aware Red Alert was not working at his best, and while he understood Red Alert's concern about letting any random mech do his work, Prowl worried he was taxing his systems heavily by trying to pull these abnormal shifts in his current state.

Prowl wasn't the only one, of course, and Inferno had been seen lately sporting either a very angry scowl or moping around because Red Alert refused to cut down on his work load. Prowl had a little of a workaholic streak of his own, but Jazz made a fine job of persuading him to tone it down. Unfortunately for Inferno, it seemed either Red Alert was more resistant than Prowl, or Inferno just wasn't as persuasive as Jazz. The tactician was leaning heavily on the later.

Still, the concern for Red Alert's health was not exclusive of his mate, Ratchet too was short of pulling medical rank on him and force him out of active duty until the sparkling was delivered. Prowl knew though, that Red Alert wouldn't take it well to be forced out of active duty for the remainder of his condition and that would do no good to the sparkling in the long run, the tactician only hoped something could be done before Red Alert and the sparkling paid the price.

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

Jazz wiggled a little in his seat, trying to get comfortable after having downed the cube left for him by his mate -- Jazz loved it when Prowl had this kind of gestures towards him. Once he was comfortable, he turned on his own terminal to begin his own work, which wasn't little, considering he was currently assisting Prowl in running this army, thus taking on more duties than usual.

Lost in his work, the saboteur failed to notice the hours passing by until he heard his intercom come to life to show a very gloomy looking Inferno waiting outside his door. "Hey, Inferno. Come on in!" Jazz pressed the key to let the other mech in and waved a little at the fire engine, gesturing for the other mech to take a seat across his desk. "What can I do for ya?"

Inferno took the offered seat where he all but sprawled over, looking worn out and completely defeated. "Jazz, I need help."

The Porsche straightened in his own seat, his smile fading away. "What is it?"

"I don't know what to do about Red." the fire engine straightened himself, bringing his black hand to rub his face plates wearily. "He's workin' himself to the grave, Jazz. I'm worried about him an' the sparklin' and looks like I can't do a thing about it."

Jazz rested one elbow on the desk, bringing his fist to his lips while he tapped the black digits of his other hand to the desk, thinking. "Well, have ya tried t'talk ta him 'bout that?"

Inferno let out a short bark of a laughter. "Oh, Jazz, I have lost count of how many times I've tried to talk to him about that. But he's always so tired he either falls straight into recharge, or he just kicks me out of the surveillance room when I start getting on his nerves and he's workin'."

Jazz nodded. "Who takes over his shift when he finally goes ta get some recharge?"

"Me, usually. He doesn't trust many mechs to not tamper with his systems and sensors."

The Porsche hummed absently, tapping his fingers faster. "What about Prowl? Do ya think he'd let Prowl take over his shift?"

Inferno raised an optic ridge at that. "He probably would. Why?"

Jazz smiled a little. "Ya two need some time t'yourselves, an' I'm about ta buy ya some." the saboteur grinned widely, opening a private comm-link to talk with the tactician.

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

"What is the meaning of this?" Red Alert asked, glaring at Jazz and Inferno as he was hauled from his station and monitors by both mechs.

"You're being relieved of your duty for the remainder of your shift." Prowl's voice cut off as he walked into the room, seating himself in the spot left vacant by the security director.

"What?!"

"Ya need t'spend time with Inferno an' you both need ta talk about many things." Jazz waved his hand, pushing the Lamborghini into his mate's waiting arms. "I'm sure ya trust Prowl will handle your duty properly."

"Of course I do!" Red Alert huffed, ready to launch a bout of protests when he felt the lips of his mate press gently against one of his helm horns.

"Please, Red," He pleaded softly, wrapping his arms a little tighter around his mate. "Prowl is doing this for us. We really need to talk."

Red Alert heaved a soft sigh and nodded allowing his mate to lead him out of the room, nodding along as Inferno thanked the pair of black and whites for their help.

Once they were back into their own room, Inferno handed a cube to his mate and sat next to him on the berth. Red Alert accepted the energon and played with it nervously, he knew where this was going to lead to and wasn't looking forward to it.

"Red," Inferno curled his fingers under the Lamborghini's chin, forcing his mate to look at him. "What you're doin' ain't healthy, neither for you or the sparklin'."

"I know," Red Alert looked away again, running a finger over the edge of the energon cube. He was aware he was over taxing his own systems and pressing his luck with his sparkling, but he couldn't help himself -- he took the security within the Ark seriously and with several key mechs busy with their respective mates and sparklings or upcoming sparklings, it was imperative for him to maintain the security levels.

"If you know that, then why are ya still doin' it, Red? I worry about you and our own sparklin'." Inferno pressed the side of his helm against Red Alert's, bringing his hand to the security director's chest plates. "I know ya take yer work an' our safety very seriously, Red, but right now this, here," he tapped a finger gently over Red Alert's chest, "This sparklin' right here should be our priority. Let me help ya, Red. Please."

Red Alert shifted a little in his mate's arms but nodded. "I just don't know who I could trust with this, nobody is paying attention to caution lately."

"Red, we've gone through this. It's not as hard as ya see it," Inferno assured, stroking his mate's arm. "Just need to get back to normal levels. Once the first sparklin' was announced you've gone overboard. Just... take it easy, please? For our sparkling?"

Red Alert sighed and relaxed a little. He did take his job seriously, perhaps too seriously sometimes, but even he could admit he was trying to fight off windmill giants. It was good to be cautious, but he was taking it too far, acting like nobody else in the Ark could do the job all of sudden, and his and Inferno's sparkling was going to pay the price for it if he continued.

"I'm sorry," he apologized and downed the cube's contents in one gulp, setting it aside and cuddled closer to his bonded. "I went overboard this time, didn't I?" He asked sheepishly, smiling a little.

"Mmhmm." Inferno pressed a kiss on the crest of Red Alert's helm and chuckled softly. "Now you need as much rest as ya can get. We'll talk to Prowl and Jazz tomorrow to see about the shifts and appoint other mechs to take monitor duty in the surveillance room."

Red Alert nodded and allowed his mate to pull him down on the berth. He knew it was going to be hard for him to let go of some responsibilities and let other mechs do the job, but he knew he'd pull through it for his bonded and their sparkling.

"Inferno?"

"Mmm?"

"What are we going to name the sparkling?"

"Uh... I have no idea."

"...That makes two of us."