Transformers © Hasbro

AN: Just a bit of friendship fluff to tide you over until I get around to updating my other stories. By the way – this is actually based on something my best friend and I did while she was spending the night at my house. She'll be happy to know I finally got around to typing this up. In case you're wondering (which I'm sure you aren't) in this story – she would be Jazz, and I was Prowl.


It wasn't common knowledge that Prowl had a bit of a playful side. Then again, being as close as he was to Jazz, it was only a matter of time before some of the saboteur's inherent silliness rubbed off on him. Jazz had been hoping that it would make him lighten up a little around the other mechs. Instead, it had become something of their little secret. That was okay with him though. All good friends needed inside jokes and secrets, and friends just didn't come as good as Prowl and Jazz were.

He was exhausted when he got back from patrol. It had been a hard, tiring day, and he was determined to just fall down on his recharge berth, blare some tunes, and fall into recharge without a second thought. Prime's report could wait. He had been gone for six days, and a lot of it was spent either bored out of his processor with no one but Cliffjumper and Hound for company and too little action to distract them all. It was terrible.

Jazz did, however, offer a friendly – if half-hearted – wave to the other mechs in the rec room as he passed through. They waved back and called out greetings, but no one stopped him to talk. They could all see the exhaustion in his walk.

His room was normally empty. Unlike some of the others, Jazz had the luxury of having his own room. Which was a good thing, since he had been stuck rooming with Bumblebee so many times that he kept referring to the yellow mech as his little brother. This time, however, his room was not empty.

"How did you get into my room?" Jazz asked, not in the least bit offended. Prowl simply grinned at him, stretched out on Jazz's berth. So much for instant recharge.

"I figured you could use some sane company after the minibots for six days." Prowl said easily. "As for your question – how long have we been friends? You use the same passcode for everything."

"So do you." Jazz grinned, flopping down beside his partner. "Logic should tell you that's a stupid move."

"It does." Prowl agreed. "But then again, I was talking to you when I set my code up, so that explains everything."

"Do you always blame everything on me?"

"Everything. Including the fact that I now have a collection of human movies in my room."

"Hey, you were the one who wanted to watch Dragon Heart." Jazz reminded him.

"And once I stopped locking up, it was an enjoyable movie." Prowl said agreeably. "Unfortunately, not all other movies in the genre hold the same appeal."

"Hence the small collection."

"But there nonetheless, and it's because of you."

"I still don't see how you can watch a movie about giant, flying, fire-breathing reptiles that don't even technically exist and –"

"Jazz, if you make me lock up, I swear to Primus once Ratchet unfreezes me I will beat you within an inch of your life."

Jazz couldn't help it. He laughed. "Pit, Prowler, that's funny. You couldn't hit me if I was sitting still with my optics off."

Now, it wasn't often Prowl could take Jazz by surprise, especially not like this. Normally Jazz could see this kind of move coming a mile away and make Prowl lock up before he could do it. Not this time.

Prowl shifted his weight, flipped Jazz over on the berth, and sat on him while solemnly pronouncing "I now declare you my hoard."

And as if that wasn't funny enough . . .

"He's your what?"

Both mechs looked over at the door. Optimus stood there, a data pad held in one hand while he stared in openmouthed shock at his second and third in command. Jazz and Prowl exchanged looks before smiling innocently at their commanding officer. Optimus stared at them for a few minutes in absolute silence. Prowl was about to say something to break the tension when Prime beat him to it.

"Next time lock the door." With that he turned and walked away, data pad forgotten. The two friends exchanged looks. Jazz exploded into laughter while Prowl simply smiled in satisfaction.

"How did you do that without locking up?" Jazz demanded in between giggles.

Prowl grinned. "It was well worth the processor ache just to see that look on Prime's face."

"But how did you do it?"

"Simple." He shifted his weight again, freeing Jazz to sit beside him in a more dignified position. "When I'm with you, it's only logical that I'll act illogical."

Jazz wondered if it was worth the processor lock just to point out how frail that piece of logic was. He decided not to risk it. After all, Prowl just didn't cut loose like this very often, and Jazz wanted to just relish in the personality that was truly his friend, and not the Autobot second-in-command.


AN: Yeah, Prowl is OOC, but that's okay. After all, when we made up our nicknames, I somehow got dubbed Prowl while she became Jazz. And this piece is for her, who pointed out the hilarity of it all.