- Jealousy, Part 2 : Vice Versa -

Prowl was angry. Most people, most mechs, wouldn't have noticed it. Those in the Ark, however, had spent years now in close proximity to Prowl, and, thanks to the twins, had learned how to tell when the usually unemotional tactician was royally fragged off. The primary sign was that when he spoke - he was more concise, and even more to-the-point than normal, when he was angry. The other major sign were his door wings - they flared out behind him like some animals used manes, and became hyper-sensitive. He would feel the slightest touch or breeze across them, and a firm grasp on them when Prowl was in that state, according to Jazz, made the tactician's knees buckle. Which was, actually, quite handy all things considered, since Prowl so rarely got angry that when he finally succumbed, the subject of his ire could end up in Ratchet's med bay, condition depending on how quickly Jazz got to Prowl when he finally snapped.

Of course, this had led to the quick determination that, should Prowl ever begin to show these signs, whoever it was that had gotten him angry had better start apologizing right now. It was an unspoken rule, especially since the guilt-ridden Prowl that followed after whoever he had sent to med bay had recovered just creeped everyone out. And after Prowl had recovered, one had to deal with Jazz, who came up with much more...creative and less obvious ways to remind one to never, ever frag off Prowl - or at least apologize immediately if you did.

Unfortunately, all this learning how to deal with an angry Prowl was not help any of the Ark's crew in the current situation. Never before had this particular mech angered Prowl - honestly, most of the crew had thought it impossible for Prowl to get angry at him. But there it was, plain as day - Prowl was completely and utterly fragged off...at Jazz. Nobody was quite sure what to do now that the one that usually calmed Prowl down when he was angry was the one Prowl was angry with. Actually, nobody was even quite sure what Jazz had done in the first place. And Jazz, for once in his life, didn't seem to notice that his mate was angry. So Prowl was left to simmer, setting the entire Ark on edge, while Jazz continued as if nothing were wrong.

"...and you wouldn't believe some of the questions they come up with!" Jazz was doing a good imitation of Bluestreak as he and Prowl walked through the Ark. The normally observant saboteur was oblivious to the fact that not only was his babbling unwanted, but that mechs seeing the two of them coming tended to quickly find another route to get to their destination. "For all that Spike and Carly are curious about Cybertron, they seem to ask mostly about our construction and the war. These girls and guys ask about all the other stuff - culture, music, even architecture! A few of them actually got up the nerve to ask about bonding and sparklings, and man, was that an awkward conversation -" Jazz stopped abruptly as Prowl whirled to face him, his entire body tense as he leveled a Class A Death Glare on the saboteur. "...eep? What's up, Prowl?"

"Apparently my fanclub." Prowl replied flatly, and Jazz frowned lightly.

"What?" Jazz asked.

"You have done nothing but talk about the humans in my fanclub for the past week. Tell me, what happened to your jealousy over the fact that I even had fans?" Prowl snapped.

"Oh, that." Jazz looked a little sheepish. "Yeah, um, I've been meaning to apologize about that. I mean, I know they were no threat, and yeah, I know you're bonded to me. I just, I dunno, it threw me. But then one of them - honestly, I don't know how -" the look Jazz gave Prowl was too innocent to be real, "Figured out that we were 'in a relationship', as she put it at the time, and I dunno, I guess it was just the fact that they knew you were off limits that made me get over it all. Plus they really are intelligent - I don't know how you did it, getting all the smart fans - most of mine are, well...there's smart ones, but the majority of them are kinda young and immature."

"Perhaps because you are immature." Prowl snapped, and Jazz stared at his mate for a moment.

"Now, that was uncalled for." he said finally, frowning. "I may enjoy joking around sometimes, but I'm not immature." Prowl snorted in disbelief. "Prowl, man, what's the matter with you?" Jazz sounded honestly confused, and that was probably the only reason Prowl didn't attack him then and there.

"You and my fanclub are the matter with me." Prowl snarled instead, raising a hand to point accusingly at the saboteur. "You get jealous over the fact that I have a fanclub, despite the fact that I didn't even know it, and then you take off for a few days, only to return completely over your jealousy. In fact, not only are you over your jealousy, but you're best friends with my fans all of the sudden. You talk with at least one of them every day over the communications channels, Red Alert has come to me twice about your increase in mail, many of which are packages from - guess who? - members of my fanclub. I wake up in the morning, and you're already up, reading and replying letters from them. I get off shift and go to spend time with you, and you talk about my fanclub the entire time. We go to recharge, and you're making plans for going to meet some of them! Do you see a problem yet?!"

Over the course of his rant, Prowl had stalked towards Jazz, forcing the saboteur to back up until he was pressed back against the wall, and now the tactician was practically looming over his mate, coming within millimeters of touching him, but purposefully not. His door wings were drawn up and flared out so that they framed his head, and he spoke in a cross between a hiss and a growl. The entirety of his attention, and anger, was focused on Jazz, who was staring at him with wide optics, honestly scared of the tactician for the first time in his life. Neither of them noticed when Huffer turned into the hallway they were in, took one look and turned and fled, heading for the med bay to let Ratchet know that Prowl had finally snapped.

"Uh - well, maybe -" Jazz got no farther as Prowl snarled, hands jerking upwards as if going to choke Jazz, and the saboteur flinched. That, more than anything, seemed to make Prowl aware of what he was doing, and his face smoothed into a neutral expression as he stepped back. Saboteur and tactician regarded one another warily.

"Perhaps I shall just have to take matters into my own hands." Prowl said, then turned and left just as Huffer returned with Ratchet. Both seemed surprised to find Jazz in one piece, but Jazz didn't explain how he'd escaped, instead grimacing and heading off after his bondmate, intending to sort this out before humans ended up on the wrong end of his mate's anger.

Unfortunately, Prowl had locked himself in his office, and refused to even respond to Jazz. He let Optimus Prime in when the commander requested it, but shut the door in Jazz's face. Whatever Optimus and Prowl talked about inside the tactician's office was said to quietly for Jazz to eavesdrop on through the door, and Red Alert refused to let him listen in via the security system. So Jazz eventually just grabbed two cubes of energon from the rec room and returned to his and Prowl's quarters to wait for his mate's return.


Jazz came slowly out of recharge the next morning, aware of an arm draped over his waist and the quiet hum of somebody else's systems running beside him. It took him a moment to realize what this meant, and then he snapped on his optics hurriedly and turned to stare at Prowl, lying next to him on the recharge berth. Then, confused, Jazz looked over Prowl to the rest of the room - the last thing the saboteur could remember was sitting at the desk, still waiting for Prowl to return, even though it was past midnight. He'd been tired - he must have slipped into recharge - but if he had, how in Primus' name had he ended up on the berth, with Prowl snuggled up next to him? Prowl would have had to carry him - he'd done it before, same as Jazz had done it for Prowl - but considering how angry the tactician had been the last time he had seen him, Jazz would have expected to be left in the chair.

Confused, Jazz turned his gaze back to Prowl, trying to figure it all out. He was still trying to come up with an explanation several breems later when Prowl's optics slowly came online, then moved up to meet Jazz's confused ones. The tactician smiled, let out a sound that was suspiciously similar to a purr, and then stretched languidly, arching his body against Jazz's in a very distracting manner, before leaning in to give Jazz a peck on the lips.

"Good morning, Jazz." Yep, that was definitely a purr.

"Good morning, Prowl." Jazz said, suddenly wary. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"I do?" Prowl replied innocently.

"Yes - very." Jazz replied, frowning. "What's up? Last I checked, you were mad at me."

"Would you rather I still was?" Prowl asked, arching an optics ridge.

"No no, I much prefer it when you're not angry with me," Jazz hurried to reassure his mate. "I'm just...a little confused as to why you're not still angry."

"Oh, I had a discussion with Prime, and we sorted out a few things." Prowl said non-chalantly, then pushed himself up and stretched one last time - in an rather provocative manner, in Jazz's opinion - before getting off of the berth and heading to the door, where he flipped on the lights before heading to the desk.

"And what did you sort out?" Jazz asked, still wary, as he too left the berth, following Prowl over to the desk.

"Things." Prowl replied airily, pulling up his schedule on the desk's computer, and for the rest of the morning, that was all Jazz could get out of Prowl. He eventually had to give up when it was time for them to go on duty, but he was still thinking about it. Even if he hadn't been, however, it wouldn't have taken much to realize where, exactly, the announcement from Prime had come from. It had been posted early that morning, just after Prime had gotten up, judging from the time stamp, and was a notification of a new security regulation, boasting, unsurprisingly, both Red Alert and Prowl's full endorsements.

It was a notification that, 'for the safety of the humans' and 'to prevent possible security leaks', no Autobot was to have contact with members of the Autobot fanclub, except at the annual meeting, and then only two representatives chosen by, surprise surprise, Prowl would be allowed to attend. A note at the end let everyone know that a notification had already been sent to the fanclub, and that any questions about the new security measure could be taken up with Optimus Prime himself.

Jazz just stared at the screen for several minutes as he tried to comprehend what he was reading. As it finally sunk in, he couldn't help but laugh slightly before getting up and leaving his office, heading for Prowl's. The tactician's door was, oddly, open when he arrived, and Jazz knew he'd been expected. He stepped inside without knocking, and Prowl glanced up almost instantly, favoring the saboteur with a very definitely smug smile.

"A little bit of overkill, don't you think?" Jazz asked.

"But effective." Prowl replied, smirking.

"Crazy tactician." Jazz said with a shake of his head. In response, Prowl chucked a piece of bristol board at Jazz. Startled, Jazz caught the board before it could bounce off him, and he frowned as he looked down at it, finding it blank. Then he flipped it over, and found the writing on the other side. "Touché." he said wryly to Prowl, who smirked one last time before returning to his work.

"Shut the door on your way out." the tactician said, and Jazz chuckled before heading out, closing the door as asked. Out in the hallway, he paused, then, with a smirk, pulled some tape out of his subspace - one never knew when they'd need tape - and affixed the sign to Prowl's office door. He walked away whistling, the sign on the door boldly stating to everyone that the mech inside was his.