Summary: You know all those stories about Seekers in heat and going through breeding cycles? Well, Jazz didn't. He does now.
Reasons Jazz Is A Lucky Mech, #248: Part 1/?
Jazz threw himself into Prowl's arms. "Hold me, Prowler," he wailed. "I've been traumatized for life!"
Prowl calmly dropped the Third-in-Command on his aft.
Jazz fell back chortling uncontrollably, not even bothering to get up off the ground. Prowl crossed his arms over his chassis as he patiently let the mech laugh himself out.
"Are you over your dramatics yet?"
Jazz flashed him a 'thumbs up', a curious gesture appropriated from their human allies with several different meanings that nevertheless all seemed to indicate a positive response.
"Very well. Would you care to tell me what happened to put you into this state?"
Jazz snickered, but accepted his fellow black and white's hand to lever him back to his pedes. "Come to think of it, don't know if I should tell you. It was pretty unbelievable. The illogic of it might crash your processor."
Prowl contemplated the still giddy Ops Specialist for a moment, took in his far too amused grin and the glittering light behind his visor, nodded, and continued on his way.
He gave it three steps before Jazz broke.
He made it four. Hmmm, he might have to run a diagnostic on his probability matrix. He sent a reminder to his personal datapad to do that, just as Jazz caught up with him.
Jazz hooked his arm through Prowl's, holding on so the SIC couldn't slip away again. "So I was out spying on the Decepticons, yeah? They been awful quiet lately and I was thinking it had to mean they're up to something no good, ya know?"
"Yes, Jazz. I was there when Prime authorised your investigation."
"Right. So I was expecting to find the 'Cons hatching some new horrible plot, just like normal, that we'd then have to stop, just like normal, and kick 'Con aft until they whimpered off home, just like normal."
Prowl sighed. "Yes, Jazz."
"But when I got there and snuck into the base, you know what I saw? Well lemme tell you what I didn't see: no one is or will be hatching any plots for while. Not unless it's a really clever one involving nothing but interfacin' their plating off."
Jazz smirked as Prowl's optics flickered in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"
"S'what I'm telling ya! Everywhere I went, I saw nothing but mechs so busy gettin' busy I coulda waltzed right down their corridors singing at the top of my vocal capacitors and they still probably wouldn't have noticed me."
"Surely they couldn't all have been..."
"Well, no," Jazz thought a bit. "Actually, I guess it was mostly the Seekers who was so revved up. I passed Thundercracker by the mess hall where he was practically trying to climb Motormaster. And Rumble and Frenzy ran right by where I was hiding, shrieking up a storm, with Skywarp hot on their afts. All three of the Rainmakers were crowded into the medbay with the Constructicons – they had poor Hook, the lucky glitch, surrounded when I peaked in. And while I didn't see it, I sure in the pits heard what sounded a frag of lot like Blitzwing gettin' blitzed by Dirge."
"But the coup de gras was when I stole into the control room and saw Starscream cuddled up with both Megatron and Soundwave!" Jazz didn't notice Prowl stiffen as he rapid-fire sent a series of vid-captures to Prowl to properly illustrate the sheer oddity of the Decepticon goings-on. "Look at that! Primus rust me if that ain't the treacherous little schemer snuggled all cozy-like in Megatron's lap while nuzzling Soundwave's neck-cabling! And they was just eatin' it up like energon-goodies! You ever seen such a sappy look in ol' Megs' optics before, Prowler? Down right terrifying, it is."
"Yes," he agreed distractedly. "Please excuse me, Jazz. I must speak with Bluestreak and Smokescreen immediately."
Something in his tone must have communicated itself to Jazz, because the Ops mech paused in his mutterings to look at him searchingly. Prowl froze, trying to hide his sudden need to be elsewhere.
"Y'all alright there, Prowler? Was it something I said?" His visor flared. "You know what's going on with the 'Cons?"
Prowl hesitated, but could not lie or refuse to answer. He couldn't afford to. If what he suspected was true, then it was already too late.
"From what you described, it seems the Seekers have entered their heat period and initiated a breeding cycle. It is a time when Vosians seek out the most viable mates – the strongest, fastest, smartest, whatever element they prize the most for their offspring. During this time, Seekers release a unique electromagnetic frequency that spurs their prospective mate into arousal. It is very difficult to resist."
"Ooooh-kay. So that's why all the 'Cons are so preoccupied." Jazz quirked a grin, then poked the tactician. "But that doesn't explain why you're so serious all of a sudden. They ain't no threat to us, are they?"
"Vosians and Praxians are closely related."
And for the first time in thousands of vorns of knowing one another, Prowl had to wait for Jazz's processor to reboot from a crash.
To Be Continued...