I couldn't resist not doing a P & J mojo fic. Hope you enjoy it! :)

Do I Have Mojo?

Jazz had finished his report and headed across the hall to Prowl's office to turn it in. As usual, the Autobot's second in command was sitting at his desk when most bots where heading for the recreation room to relax at the end of the day. Only the mech was sitting there, not working with a puzzled look etched in his normally calm features.

"Looks like ya got somthin on yur mind," Jazz commented, setting his report down Prowl's empty inbox.

"Indeed, I do," he sighed.

Having known Prowl since they were young bots at the Academy, it was the kind of sigh Jazz new needed to be taken care of right away.

"Talk ta me buddy. Maybe I can help ya," Jazz replied as he sat down.

Indecision flickered in Prowl's optics as he gazed at the mech across from him. It took less than an astrosecond for Prowl to conclude that Jazz was the best mech to answer his question because the mech was honest and never handed you bullslag. Plus, they'd been best friends a long time.

"It has come to my attention that I apparently lack…mojo."

"Who told ya that?" Jazz asked, arching an optic ridge behind his visor.

"It doesn't matter because I know it's true."

"Prowl, it's not true…"

Prowl gave him an 'as if' look.

"Ok, I know yur a bit uptight…"

"You can call me a prick. My feelings aren't hurt by it. I hear it all the time behind my back."

"Hey, yur my best friend an' I'd never call ya that. Yur just…misunderstood. If ya'd only open up to them more like ya did when we were recruits."

"I cannot," Prowl said sadly. "I am what I am…by choice, Jazz. I'm the second in command. I cannot afford to open up." Prowl suddenly growled. "I don't even know why I'm discussing this with you now!"

"'Cause the comment is obviously botherin ya," Jazz fired back instantly, folding his arms across his chest. "So cut wit' the bullslag an' tell me what's really botherin ya!"

Prowl sighed heavily through his vents, rising to his feet. In one motion he pressed the button to close and lock the door to his office while he turned away from Jazz and stared out the small window.

Jazz remained fixed in place, carefully observing the overly stiff posture of his friend. He was determined to help his friend having never seen him this way before.

"Remember how ambitious we were as young wreckers? The two of us were determined to become high ranking officers. You wanted to be head of Special Operations and I wanted to be the top military tactician."

"Yeah, I remember how shocked you were when you told me that Optimus wanted you to be his second in command," Jazz smiled.

"I was shocked. I was ambitious but not that ambitious. Still I knew it was a great honor to even be considered. And I still consider it a tremendous honor to be second in command to my Prime. Only…if I'd know then what I know now…I…I don't think I would have taken the offer."

Jazz blinked in surprise, his arms dropped to his side.

"It's so lonely…my position," he continued, allowing his doorwings to droop and collapse completely onto his back. "Not only do I have to protect the troops but I have to ensure the safety of my Prime. I don't have the luxury of allowing myself to get close to the mechs. Because then it'd hurt even worse when I know I'm sending them on mission that could result in their deaths. I cannot afford to open up to allow anyone in to see my weaknesses."

"Now hang on!" Jazz exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Optimus is bonded ta Elita an' he's Prime. So don't give me that slag!"

"He's Prime! He can do whatever he fragging wants!" Prowl turned and yelled at his friend, doorwings flaring and trembling in rage. "I cannot! Because if Optimus falls the Autobots will all look to me. I'm the fragging second in command! It is my duty to be strong…for them! I have to keep them from falling into chaos!"

Prowl sighed. His entire form sagged as if defeated when he turned to look back out the window.

"I'm sorry, Jazz. I didn't mean to vent at you like this."

"Why didn't ya tell me ya were so lonely?" Jazz asked, moving closer.

"I don't know," Prowl replied, shrugging one shoulder. "You're always in a good mood. I never wanted to put a damper on it I guess. Besides, your good mood always made me feel a little better, even if it was for a short while."

"Slag, if I'd known all this I'd have hung aroun' a lot more, even hooked ya up wit' someone. Hasn't anyone tried to make a move on ya?"

"Nope and I haven't tried since I've become second in command. I don't have the time."

"That's nonsense. Ya can make up the time or ask the boss for time off."

Prowl let out a short laughed, looking at his friend.

"Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if I took one day off? The twins would wreak havoc on his base in epic proportions. That's if Wheeljack doesn't blow it to the pit and back. Honestly Jazz, who do you think keeps these mechs in control. It's not Optimus because he turns a blind optic and lets them get away with stuff."

"But if ya had the time, isn't there some bot that captures yur optics?" Jazz expectantly asked, wanting to help his friend.

"There is one bot," Prowl spoke softly, turning away again. "But I don't think he's interested in me. He's never made a move or a sign to indicate he has…feelings for me in that manner."

Jazz sighed, moving closer.

"What if he was afraid he'd get rejected 'cause ya might not share those feelings wit' him?" he asked, looking down at the floor in front of his feet. "So he kept quiet, not wantin' to risk losin' the friendship he had wit' ya?"

Prowl turned to his friend, gently lifting Jazz's face up. Jazz retracted his visor so Prowl could see into his optics.

"How long has he felt this way?" Prowl whispered.

"Too long."

"Perhaps I can help him then," he asked, trailing his fingers light over Jazz's chest armor.

"I think ya'd better," Jazz gasped grabbing Prowl and pulling him for a kiss.

It ended up being a deep passionate kiss that'd been held back by both mechs for far too long. And went on desperately as if there was no tomorrow.

"Don't let anyone tell ya that ya lack mojo!" Jazz rasped, slightly stumbling with the mech towards the desk.

"So I have mojo?" Prowl panted, hastily shoving all the neatly stacked datapad onto the floor.

"Oh yeah, ya'v got it," Jazz smirked, pulling Prowl down on him as he lay on the desk. "'specially when ya do the thing wit' yur doorwings."

"This thing?" Prowl questioned, slowly fluttering his doorwings.

"Hm, that's it!" Jazz purred.

Meanwhile, as Prowl and Jazz were getting busy.

"What was that?" Ironhide asked coming to an abrupt stop just outside Prowl's office.

Optimus cocked his head, listening to obvious sounds of heated passion.

"Sounds like Prowl's getting his mojo on with Jazz or vice versa," Optimus responded.

"Primus…don't stop Prowl!"

"Definitely Prowl," Optimus smiled behind his mask.

"About fragging time those two hooked up," Ironhide commented as they continued walking on. "They'd been dancing around the issue for far too long."

"So, that means I owe you 200 credits?" Optimus questioned, making Ironhide smile. "Or not. I distinctly overheard some bot telling Prowl he had no mojo. That nullified the bet because we agreed no outside interference."

"I honestly didn't think it would take Prowl this long," Ironhide shrugged. "I figured he needed a good push in the right direction."

"Well, I'm happy for them," Optimus smiled.

"So, care to wager on how long it will take them to get bonded?"

"Of course. I have to give you a chance to win back your credits."

Ironhide grumbled making Optimus laugh heartily.

Back in Prowl's office


"Sorry! Anything I can do to help?" Jazz asked, feeling absolutely terrible about what happened.

"Not really. Have to wait until Ratchet gets here," Prowl replied, looking over his shoulder. He winced seeing his badly bent out of shape doorwing. Some how though, he managed a smile when he looked up at Jazz. "How am I going to explain it to him?"

Jazz mused for a moment then beamed proudly, "Yur mojo was too much for me to handle!"