You Who Has Healed My Spark
This little diddy was inspired by a line I read while beta reading chapter thirty…four(?) of My Beautiful Rising Star for optimus prime 007 (the 7 is a hard key to hit; for a second there you were optimus prime 0045). Anyway. It involved Prowl caressing Kacey's cheek, and though it was later revised to seem more fatherly, it seemed kinda sexy to me…so I thought I'd majorly twist up Kacey's world. And Prowl's. But only because I love him so much. :D
For ease of hotness, I'm slightly changing Prowl's background with Jazz; let's say for now that they weren't bonded. Seems wrong to have a formerly bonded mech with Optimus Prime's daughter. Now, a lonely, unbound spark…totally different story. :D
Disclaimer: Wow, these things are a rarity for me. Kacey and Kayla and Nitro are OCs created by optimus prime 007 in the Kaceystar trilogy. This fic is being done with her permission and for her enjoyment. As long as I'm here, I don't own Transformers, either. There are a thousand companies who do now, it seems, so I'll just leave it at that.
Is there just a competition to write funny disclaimers or what? Sorry about the long A/N, on with the story…KaceyXProwl!
NOTE: Just because I miss him so much, I added Jetfire. Don't eat me!
The Autobot base on a Sunday morning was the epitome of tranquility. Even the Decepticons seemed willing to take weekends off, and the exhausted Autobots took full advantage of it. It was almost eerily quiet; the twins were out racing with Bee, and Ultra Magnus gave himself the leniency to let them have their fun…and instead do some nice healthy data work.
Said City Commander looked up--so fast something in his neck cracked--to see Optimus Prime's second in command and tactician standing before his desk, normally cool blue optics blazing murderously towards the small object in Magnus's hand.
Magnus stared at Prowl, then looked down at the data pad clutched in his fingers. Then back up at Prowl. Data pad. Prowl.
"Er…" He cleared his throat nervously. "Prowl? Something wrong?"
"She's gone and hurt herself again?!"
"Kacey!" Prowl snarled viciously, pointing accusingly at the innocent little data pad. "That's the third time this month!"
Ultra Magnus couldn't hold in a very small smile (like, microscopic small--if Prowl caught him he'd be in the brig for the next two years, mood the tactician was in…). Prowl certainly wasn't famous for his loving, caring side. Frankly, the poor mech was regarded as more of a cold-sparked monster than most Decepticons. Mechs like Magnus understood that it was logic, not apathy, that ruled over Prowl's processor, that he'd simply been made that way, and no one went back on their programming easily. Magnus would be the first to say that Prowl's spark had warmed in the last few years on Earth, even after learning of his lover's death. Optimus had confided to Magnus a worry that Prowl would shun them all after losing Jazz, but with the prospect of sparklings Prowl had made a turn for the better. He was still the same old Prowl--loved his brig as much as Ironhide loved his cannons, hated the word "irrational" as much as the twins hated the words "medical bay"--but it was a Prowl with a more open mind. A more open spark.
Magnus attributed most of this to Optimus Prime and Elita One's daughter.
Magnus loved her name almost as much as he loved the femme herself. It held such promise, such strength, such beauty. There was no doubt that the young femme embodied all three; she was easily the prodigy her parents were. Optimus had known what his little girl's name would be before he'd even bonded to Elita; Magnus was particularly religious, nor did he much believe in the supernatural, but even he thought Kacey's name was something special.
Prowl's snarl jerked the City Commander from his musings, dragging him roughly back into reality. Just as well; it didn't really do to sit there and daydream about his commander's daughter. Magnus shook his helm slightly before looking calmly up at the seething tactician.
"Prowl. You know her transformation systems just came back online. You know how ecstatic she is. She can't seem to keep herself out of the sky--"
"Nor out of the medical bay, apparently! She and Kayla should switch fathers!"
"--And she's just having a little bit of trouble adjusting to having that much power again," Magnus continued, ignoring Prowl's comment. "She'll get it soon enough. This accident was the least severe of the three so far; she's almost got the hang of it again. Give it time."
"Optimus is going to fritz!"
"Correction. ELITA is going to fritz; Optimus is going to grimace and hug Kacey and tell her to watch her aft out there or Ratchet will weld it to the ceiling if she wants to be in the air so bad. And then Kacey's going to laugh and very sweetly, in a way he can't possibly resist, ask Ratchet if she's free to go, and before he can even answer will disappear to go find Leo and tomorrow will be back in his med bay with a few minor scratches and dings, begging to go flying again."
Prowl stared at the City Commander for a moment before delivering one more "Damn it" and promptly turning and stomping his tight aft out the door.
"Damn youngling can't keep her aft out of the medical bay!"
"She's not a youngling anymore, dude," Jetfire pointed out, pushing the high grade cube just a wee bit closer to Prowl's clenched fists. "As of one vorn--er, year ago. We can't baby her forever, you know? Cute as she is. And you've never reacted this way before. Usually you start to cry…"
Prowl glared at the white Seeker, who hunched his shoulders and retracted his mask to swig down his high grade. The tactician didn't like being reminded that he had emotions. He'd only ever cried for Jazz and Kacey--and then once when Optimus was near death, but that had been long ago. Prowl had just been a newbie then; he'd been more confused than anything else. But Primus, Prowl hated to admit just how strongly the beautiful Kaceystar affected him. She was like a magnet; he needed her. As a friend, as a comrade, as anything, as long as she was close. Close enough that he could hear her musical laugh or her fairy-light footsteps or her purring engine or her roaring boosters and rockets. He'd started out as an uncle, a stern one at that--the MOST stern any youngling would ever know--but now…now that she was a mature femme…interface systems online, body fully developed, ready to be courted…and so achingly beauti--
Jetfire jumped badly, swearing a little more colorfully when he sloshed high grade down his front. "Dude! Either someone jammed one of the twins up your tailpipe or you need counseling! Even I don't explode like that unless I'm on at least five cubes of high grade! Five! You need to drink the stuff more if you're sloshed already…Primus in a Pit bucket…"
Jetfire trailed off when Prowl abruptly stood, kicked angrily at his chair, and stormed from the rec room, snarling loudly. A moment later Optimus Prime slid into the chair behind the scientist, frowning after his tactician.
"Dude, Boss 'Bot, your right hand guy is insane," Jetfire said flatly, shaking his head. "I mean…seriously. Not kidding here. In. Sane."
"What were you talking about?"
"Yeah, and he got all pissed and stormed out. Maybe he was drunk. I didn't see him drink too much of this crap, though…you gonna finish his or can I have it?"
"No, go ahead," Optimus said absently, his thoughts already hallways away, with the white and black mech he still didn't quite understand…
Prowl went to the lake. It was completely deserted; no one wanted to be near the thing in below-zero weather. He transformed to his bipedal mode, not caring who saw (and was reminded of the incident when Kacey revealed herself to the press; he only got angrier). And, as luck would have it, he wasn't the only one up for a cold, dark afternoon by the lake.
He twitched at the exclamation of her comm. link, turning to see the flourishing compact jet land mere yards away, smoothly shedding the aerodynamics to become the graceful form of Kaceystar. She waved eagerly, jogging over to join him, and he managed to twitch his fingers a little in reply. Primus. The last and first person he wanted to see…
"Planning on taking a swim?" the young femme inquired, arching her optic ridges, jerking a thumb towards the frozen lake.
"No," he replied flatly, and she scowled.
"It's a joke, Prowl. You're supposed to laugh. You know, like ha ha?"
"Waste of energy," he muttered irritably, and she snorted.
"What else are you gonna use it on?"
He met her gaze. You, he said silently. Those astonishing blue optics, those azure galaxies that could melt through him, right to his spark--he turned his head away with a grunt, instead walking past her to begin a loop around the lake.
"Can I come?"
He stopped again, exhaling deeply; his vents wheezed a bit. "I don't care. You're a mature femme now, aren't you? You hardly need me to hold your hand."
He continued walking; the snow crunched underfoot. After a pause her small, dainty feet brought her to his side.
"You know, I kinda miss having you guys hold my hand," she noted, kicking at a snowdrift. "Dad still does, and Mom does occasionally, but Ironhide and Ratchet haven't held my hand since I was a youngling."
"Wow. A whole year."
"I mean like a little youngling. As in before the twins were born."
"…You…haven't held my hand either, Prowl."
He didn't dare look at her. One look from that gentle, that beautiful face and he'd crack. He wouldn't be able to hold himself together. Instead he reached out and stiffly clasped his fingers around hers. A moment passed before she giggled and adjusted her grip, slotting her palm against his and lacing their fingers together.
"Dad can hold my whole hand in one of his, but your hands are smaller," she said lightly, almost skipping at his side. "It's good--you feel like less of a parent."
Prowl grunted, feeling his internal temperature rise when she shivered, pressing closer to him to block out some of the cold.
"You're running kind of hot, Prowl--need to go see Ratchet?"
"Speaking of which," he growled out, and he almost felt her flinch.
"It was just a little accident. A plane came up on my radar suddenly and it startled me, and I hit a tree."
Prowl froze; she kept walking, only to be jerked back when their locked fingers prevented her from moving forward.
"You hit a tree?"
"Just a thin one," she said quickly, turning back to face him, tugging earnestly on his hand. But he wasn't going to move. Nope. Aft frozen to the air directly behind it. "Come on, Prowl, it wasn't even that--eep!"
He jerked roughly on her arm, dragging her forward, pulling her body up against his. Her protest died in her throat at the intimate contact. Her lips were just below his…perfect angle for a kiss--crap, stop thinking that way! Round female breastplates right up against a broad, strong male chest. Narrow hips fitting perfectly against curvy ones. Her knee lightly brushing his inner thigh. The space between her aft and the lowest junction of her wings the perfect size for one warm hand…her fingers still clasped in his…
Prowl closed that last distance between them, dropping his mouthplates to hers and locking her in a hot, sweet kiss. She gasped softly against his lips, and his glossa took advantage of it, slipping easily into her mouth. His hand released hers to rest softly on her neck, thumb tilting her jaw up to better slant his mouth over hers. Her optics fluttered, shutters falling closed…the cold air around them, buffeting her, but that warm mouth closed over hers…
"Prowl!" she gasped in shock, jerking away from him abruptly, horror flooding her systems. She was kissing one of the mechs who had raised her father! Primus! What is wrong with me?!
"Shh…Kacey…" Prowl caressed her cheek, turning her face back to his, and looking into those optics…she melted, wrapping her arms around his neck as he leaned in once more. His hand dropped from her face to clutch at her aft, his other hand still placed firmly on the small of her back, dragging her close, kissing her desperately. Prowl had never paid much attention to taste, and now it was buffeting him; the air between kisses actually tasted of love, her lips were sweet…
The hand that wasn't groping her aft slipped to her thigh, and she gasped eagerly, her hips pressing against his. Easily, with all the experience of a seasoned lover, Prowl lowered her to the ground, kissing her breathless, guiding her slender leg up around his hips. Her interface unit was already warm against his crotch…
"Damn it!" he snarled, dragging his mouth away from hers, pulling her leg away. "I'm sorry!"
"Huh?" she asked dazedly, still lost in that passionate fog. "What…Prowl…"
"You've never interfaced before!" he growled, at himself rather than at her. "You're new to this! You're young! Primus, if you don't count that one time with Nitro, this is the first time you've ever been kissed!"
"…Is that just your favorite phrase today or what…?"
"Look, Kacey, go home," he muttered, sitting back on his aft and burying his face into his hands. "Just go. Please…please forget everything, okay? Everything that's happened in the past--" he checked his internal chronometer and almost punched himself, "ten minutes. I'm sorry."
He lifted his head, scowling at her. "What? Don't backtalk, alright? For once in your life, follow orders."
She lifted herself slowly, propping herself up on her elbows. He almost moaned as his internal temperature skyrocketed at the mere sight of her; that delicious, erotic body, curved so delicately on the knoll, wet from the snow, her armor shining softly in the afternoon sun…his optics raked over her, from bottom to top, traveling slowly up her long, slender legs, her smooth thighs, the curvaceous hips, the petite waist, her pretty breastplates, that sinewy, tempting throat…
And that soft, that utterly beautiful faceplate, turned towards him, fiery blue optics locked upon his. She sat up fully, her gaze becoming determined. He groaned inwardly. Please, Kacey, don't make this any more complicated than it already is…
His only answer was a long sigh.
"Are you listening?"
"Yes. I'm listening, Kacey."
"…Will you…kiss me again?"
Primus. No way out now. He wanted it, she wanted it…perhaps…maybe if he loved her now…they could both deal with the consequences together…
Prowl beckoned her closer with one hand, and after a moment's hesitation she scooted forward. He splayed his legs out in front of him and pulled her close, lifting her legs to settle them over his thighs.
"…Um…should I…you know, wrap them around your hips, or…"
"It's up to you."
She did so, and both shuddered when their crotch armor ground together, firing up the already warmed interface systems. Kacey squirmed against him, frowning slightly.
"My abdomen…it feels all hot…"
He bit back a laugh. Primus, typical virgin. Virgin. Damn…am I going to be the first one to taint Optimus Prime's daughter? "It's alright, Kacey," he murmured, rubbing her sides soothingly. After a moment, she relaxed into the touch, purring softly when he caressed the joint where her wings met. "It's just your interface systems booting up. Don't worry, it's completely normal."
"Are we interfacing?" she asked, looking just a bit panicked.
He blinked, and was abruptly unable to hold in a laugh. "Only if you want to, silly little femme."
"Oh…" she wriggled, placing her hands on his shoulders. Their bodies scraped together, and her hips bucked instinctively. "Oh! That felt nice. Your crotchplate's so warm…"
"I can't do anything about that," he said flatly. This would be a lot more comfortable if she'd stop stating the obvious. "Now then." He bent his legs at the knees, snuggling his thighs around her aft, holding her straddling body closer to his. She shuddered and closed off her optics, her hips rubbing softly against his. He leaned in close to her--checking to make sure she was alright--and bit gently into her throat. She whimpered, fingers digging beneath his shoulder armor; the heat against his crotch shot up drastically.
He dropped his head, pulling her closer yet, brushing his mouthplates over her chest, running his glossa up between her breastplates. She mewled eagerly, hips grinding his now, lips parted to allow for her panting intakes. Prowl growled, hot with desire, and leaned in to kiss her fiercely. She gasped wildly against his lips, wrapping her arms tight around his neck and returning the kiss in full. His glossa massaged hers gently, and mere moments later she had the hang of it. Prowl suddenly found himself making out with Optimus Prime's little girl.
And Primus, it was good.
Running hot and hard, Prowl brazenly dropped his hands to her aft, grabbing it roughly before caressing the undersides of her legs. The snow beneath them had melted, leaving glistening droplets of water along her bottom; the sensuality of it all was wonderful.
With a hungry moan he dropped his mouth to her neck again, pressing his lips to that warm throat. "I want you," he whispered roughly, placing his hand on her thigh. "Kacey…"
"C-Can we interface?" she gasped out, shaky fingers caressing his cheekplate weakly. "Please…Prowl…"
"…Mm. Yes indeed. Please, Prowl…GET THE HELL OFF MY DAUGHTER."
"Father!" Kacey gasped, scrambling backwards, and Prowl slowly turned his head upwards to see the massive form of Optimus Prime before them, illuminated from the back by the setting sun, intense blue optics narrowed and cold with fury. The commander was visibly shaking, his arms folded tightly over his chest, fists clenched.
For a few awful moments (felt like an eternity to Prowl) no one moved. Nothing moved. The universe stood still for the few mere seconds that Optimus Prime stood them down, eyeing off the lovers with an unforgiving rage. He knew that mechs would go after Kacey; he knew she'd be courted just as thoroughly as his Elita had. But PROWL? Of all mechs, it was Prowl--who'd been attached to Jazz for almost Primus knew how long--who couldn't stand to see protocol disobeyed--who had sworn absolute loyalty to Optimus--
Was now sitting in the snow, taking advantage of Prime's innocent, his pure daughter, and--
"This is all my fault!" Kacey blurted, and the two mechs' attention snapped to her instantly. Prime seemed broken out of his rage by her cry; his blue optics blinked, his expression blank. What?
"I kissed Prowl first," Kacey rambled on, her pump thundering in her chest so loudly she was sure her father would hear it. Would see through her lie. Would punish Prowl for being the first to love her. "Please, Father…none of this is Prowl's doing."
"I saw him just now," Optimus bit out, his spark breaking. Instant betrayal. Just add snow. "He was kissing you too, Kacey…"
"Honestly, Father, when a pretty femme comes onto him, what mech wouldn't?" she asked, searching quickly through her mental smut dictionary (The Sunstreaker and Sideswipe Special Edition). "If Mother pounced on you in your office, would you push her away while blabbering on about protocol?"
"That's different," Optimus defended weakly. "Elita is my sparkmate; you are Prowl's surrogate niece and charge, not his…consort." He almost spat the last word.
"I would never allow Prowl to do something to me physically I was not comfortable with," Kacey replied, her voice surging with pride, drawing herself up to her full height. "And I know that he would never, ever mistreat me. Not one mech on base would."
"Not the officers, anyway, I wouldn't trust any recruit who looks twice in your direction," Prowl piped up, but fell silent at a look from the young femme. Let me handle this.
Optimus seemed to waver, his optics narrowing suspiciously. After a strained moment he sighed, his shoulders going slack and his head bowing tiredly. "I do trust you, Kacey," he said quietly, and her spark writhed in pain--she tried to hide it from their bond. "And while I cannot bring myself to give you my blessing, I certainly can do nothing to stop you. I've no power over a full grown femme. You may love who you will. I have…no say in the matter." He turned his attention to the sprawled out tactician, who flinched under his commander's still icy gaze. "And I trust you, Prowl. I have no reason to believe you'd ever hurt Kacey. However…if I ever have the slightest inkling--hear the tiniest whisper that you've mistreated her--I will sic Leo on your aft."
Optimus turned promptly on his heel and strode off before either mech or femme could get a word in. He blocked his bond with Kacey for the time being, reaching out fully instead to his own sparkmate. Elita caressed his spark worriedly, inquiring about his frantic state.
It's not for me to talk about.
Optimus, my love, please. What's wrong?
What about her? Is she alright?
Yes. Yes, she's fine…I'm just…
…Not ready…for her to grow up.
The silence stretched on for a longer eternity this time. Kacey stood awkwardly; Prowl sat. Kacey shuffled her feet awkwardly; Prowl sat. She held out her hands to him; Prowl sat.
"Prowl," she murmured gently, crouching to stroke his cheekplate gently. "I'm sorry. But I can't possibly do anything to make my father so unhappy. He's blocking my spark now, but I can sense that he's upset. I care for you very deeply, and I think you care for me as well…"
"I love you," he bit out, jerking his head away, breaking her touch. "…I love you."
She was silent for a moment, then spoke again. "Maybe it's simply the wrong type of love. Maybe we need to go back to square one. I would like to…love you, Prowl. But I can't hurt my father that way. Please…do you understand?"
After a few minutes' pause he stood slowly, and she hopped to her feet as well, gazing hopefully into his face. Not a second more passed before he leaned in, locking his mouth against hers in a fiercely passionate kiss. But before she'd been able to respond, he turned away sharply.
"Damn it," he repeated bluntly, and crunched away into the new fallen snow.
D'aww…Prowler needs a hug. :D