AN: Gift fic for miss prancingtiger86. I honestly can't recall why I was writing it for her as I'm getting older and the memory is going. I think it was something about incentive for her P&J fic Renascentia, of which she had better hurry up and update! Evil writers and their evil cliff hangers. Grr. Lol. If you haven't read the fic go and read it now! Anyways enough of my prattle, hope you enjoy it hun!

Side Note: I have no idea where the title came from but it seemed more exciting then Lover's Quarrel. Lol.

Compromising Positions

The CMO's smirk was barely containing the laughter that was just dying to burst forth. The patient huffed irritably. He was embarrassed enough as it was to have to come to the medical bay and have this 'problem' cleared up. He didn't need to be humiliated any further.

Jazz sighed dramatically, slumping his shoulders.

"Keep still. I'm almost…*snort*…done."

"Why dontcha just let it out an' get it over wit? This is humilaitin' enough as it is Ratch!"

"I'm a professional, Jazz."

"Professional m' aft! Yur enjoyin' this!"

"Well of course I am! It's not every day a mech wonders into my medical bay to have transfluid flushed from his optic socket!" Ratchet gleefully smiled, looking entirely too happy – and scary – over Jazz's predicament.

Jazz groaned loudly, shuttering his one good optic, wanting to hide his head or better yet, leave. Only Ratchet's tight grip on his chin prevented him from moving and forced him to endure this humiliation further. Jazz was lucky enough to make it to the med-bay without anyone knowing he had a problem with his socket thanks to his visor. However, the past fifteen minutes with Ratchet, first ten minutes of it was spent trying to explain what had happened without the CMO giggling, was more than enough for one lifetime!

"There all done," Ratchet smiled, still struggling to contain his laughter. "I suggest next time…" *snort* "…you keep your…" *snort* "…visor down."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jazz said as he rushed for the exit with as much pride as he could muster.

The doors weren't even closed yet when he heard Ratchet's laughter echoing throughout the medical bay. Jazz quickly marched away before anyone saw him outside the medical bay. Ratchet was good at keeping most secrets. This however was bound to get out sooner or later. Ratchet at least had the good sense to not use a bot's name. Still, the saboteur didn't want to be lingering around the medical bay just in case someone came around and heard the CMO laughing his aft off, not with the way the Autobots loved to gossip. The others would have easily put two and two together and thus the humiliation would continue.

Jazz would rather not have to suffer any longer and he would execute some form of revenge on the CMO. Later, when Jazz was in a more devious mood. Right now, the saboteur wanted to disappear down a hole for a while and hide! So he headed to his assigned office which he almost never used.

And that was where Prowl found Jazz an hour later.

"I'm not talkin' to ya ever again!" Jazz snapped, not bothering to look up to see who it was. He knew exactly who it was by the nearly silent footfalls.

Prowl didn't even flinch but strode confidently the rest of the way into Jazz's office, allowing the door to close behind him.

"That plan of action is highly improbable as we are Prime's two most senior officers and we must communicate with each other in order to keep our mechs alive, especially our Prime."

"Ya do just fine wit'out me."

"I value your input and you are fully aware of my limitations to not always see the unexpected."

"Since yar aware of yur own limitations I'm sure ya can extrapolate somethin' to compensate for them. Now get out!" Jazz growled, glaring at Prowl and pointing forcefully at the door.

Prowl calmly stared back, one doorwing twitching ever so slightly in uncertainty.

He obviously made a tactical error in believing Jazz would be more forgiving. He certainly didn't expect his lover to be this angry at him for something that wasn't entirely his fault. Not to matter, Prowl's battle computer came up with a new strategy very quickly. The universe always seemed off kilter whenever Jazz was angry about something and Prowl was determined to right it.

"Ok, Jazz. I'll go," Prowl spoke softly, bowing his head slightly and drooping his wings dramatically, doing his best impression of Bluestreak whenever he made a mistake and felt bad about it. "Just remember, I did give you ample warning about what was going to happen if you continued your pleasurable ministrations. And I did apologize immediately afterwards. I shall see you whenever you are more amicable."

With that being said, Prowl left as told but deliberately walked as slowly as possible. If his new calculations were correct, Jazz would feel bad and come after Prowl. If his calculations were flawed then he would be recharging alone that evening.

At ten steps the success of his new plan on dropped five percent.

At fifteen steps the success of his plan dropped significantly but still have a better than sixty percent chance of Prowl achieving his objective.

However, at twenty five steps the mission was deemed an utter failure as the success rate plummeted to below thirty percent.

Defeated, Prowl glanced at Jazz's closed office door one last time before heading to his own. Once inside, he quickly locked the door. If he was going to recharge alone tonight he may as well use his office. He normally used the make shift berth Wheeljack installed for him to take short recharge naps whenever he was extremely busy. On the rare occasion when he and Jazz had a fight he used it overnight.

Tonight, Prowl just didn't want to recharge on their berth.

It was another calculation on his part. The last one he could think of, hoping Jazz would stop being so stubborn and come to him. After this, he had no idea what to do next. Jazz being stubborn he could handle. He'd even handled Jazz being mad. However Jazz had never been this angry with Prowl before. And he was never so stubborn that at the end of the day they hadn't reached a middle ground.

With a tired sigh, Prowl settled down on the makeshift berth and initiated his recharge programs, hoping tomorrow would be a better day. Unfortunately, when morning came around and he woke things didn't bode well. His wings were stiff from not recharging on his normal berth and he had a processor ache from his battle computer working overtime to find a way to get his lover to forgive him since it was obvious Jazz wasn't going to bend on the matter.

Primus he hope he didn't mess up his relationship with Jazz. He was deeply in love with the mech. Of course it made matters somewhat more tenuous because said mech was afraid of commitment. As a result Prowl never spoke the 'L' word to Jazz for fear of scaring him away. But after yesterday's disastrous events it seemed the end of his relationship with his lover had come to an inevitable end.

Prowl let out a soft emotionally pained groan as he sat up, stretching his spinal struts while keeping his optics offline. He winced when he flexed his sore doorwings already missing Jazz's gentle, loving touches and magnetic pulses that soothed away any aches in his doorwings. His spark ache only plummeted at the thought and he dropped his head into his hands.

"Ya look as bad as I feel," suddenly came the comment.

With his process still slightly sluggish from his recharge and the fact that his optics were offline, Prowl reacted on instinct. His blaster was pulled from subspace with lightening speed and he shot acid pellets in the direction the voice came, with frightening precision, even before he'd even onlined his optics.

"What the frag!" Jazz exclaimed, diving for the floor just before the chair was obliterated.

Lucky for Jazz he was nimble and quick as he avoided a few acid pellets in the aft! He rolled up to his feet, arms up to surrender and ready to dodge more pellets if needs be. Thankfully, before Prowl could squeeze off another round he recognized Jazz.

"How'd you get in? I rigged the door lock to send my recharge programs a message to wake me if you bypassed it," Prowl commented in confusion, putting his blaster away, forcing his spark ache to the side for now.

"Special Ops mechs don't divulge their secrets," Jazz smirked, resuming his seat in Prowl's chair since the visitors chair had ceased to be.

"So, you're talking to me now?"

Jazz lost his smile and grew unnaturally silent. Truth was he had so much to say but didn't have the spark to wake Prowl. Jazz had sat there for several hours simply watching the mech recharge. And now that the mech was awake he didn't know how to say what was on his processor.

A few seconds of silence stretched into a minute and then three minutes.

Annoyed, Prowl shot up to his feet and snapped, "Well, when you feel like talking to me I'm sure you can use your special ops skills to locate me!" And then he stormed out of his office, not even noticing how Optimus and Ratchet had to jump out of his way.

"Prowler, wait!" Jazz shouted, chasing after the mech.

"I did wait Jazz! All night!" Prowl yelled back over his shoulder, marching faster.

"I did start t' go afta ya last night. Only…"

Prowl stopped in his tracks and turned around. His doorwings were flared out, trembling with a rage Jazz never had directed at him before. Prowl never got angry! Sure he'd get annoyed but never in the long time they've know each other did Prowl show this much anger.

The saboteur wilted where he came to a stop feeling guilty for causing so much spark ache to the one he loved.

"Go on. I'm waiting," Prowl demanded when Jazz grew silent.

"Ya were right," Jazz started, slowing moving towards Prowl. "Ya did apologize an' I knew I was bein' an aft. So I hacked into ya office an' found ya in deep recharge. I sat there all night just watchin' ya. I planned to apologize to ya an' tell ya everythin' but…"

"But what Jazz?"

"Ya scare the slag out o' me, Prowl," Jazz spoke softly, retracting his visor to reveal the painful regret he felt for hurting Prowl.

"I don't understand. What did I do to scare you?"

"Nothin' but bein' yurself," Jazz fondly smiled.

"Are you trying to lock my processor up?"

"I love ya, Prowl," Jazz seriously confessed and it was like the damn within his spark burst. Everything he couldn't say before couldn't come out fast enough now. "I love most things 'bout ya. The way ya move so gracefully, even on the battlefield. How yar wings express how ya feel. The way they flutta when yar alone wit' me an' we're bein' intimate. The way ya get that little crease in yar brow when I've baffled ya processor. I love how I can talk to ya about anythin' 'cause ya always listen no matter how silly or serious the topic. I love being around ya. And well…I love ya wit' all my spark."

Prowl was dumbstruck. Literally standing there with his mouth open while his spark was doing whirls and flip flops within its chamber. Jazz loved him! He had fully been prepared for Jazz to break off their relationship despite the amount of spark ache it would have caused. But now that wasn't going to happen because Jazz loved him! His battle computer never came up with this scenario and frankly Prowl didn't care because Jazz loved him!

"Well…say something you glitch!" Ratchet huffed, since he and Optimus in all good conscience couldn't leave the two officers alone just in case it came to fists flying – which had happen on a few occasions.

The tactician glanced at the CMO before looking back at Jazz. Ever so slowly a warm affectionate smile formed on the winged mech's faceplates. His long arms gathered Jazz, pulling the saboteur close, while pressing his chest against the other with a soft rumble of his engine. Then Prowl kissed his lover slowly, passionately, deeply, conveying every emotion of his love and more that he'd always held in check just enough to not scare Jazz away.

Jazz's engine purred loudly in response. His arms encircled Prowl's waist, pulling the mech closer. His glossa smoothing over and around Prowl's before the kiss was gently broken. The saboteur's optics were hazed over and a crooked smile was fixed upon his face plates. It only got more crooked when he saw how Prowl's doorwings fluttered nonstop as Prowl tenderly pressed his forehead against, Jazz's.

"I take it that means ya love me too?"

"With all my spark," Prowl murmured as his lips descended upon Jazz's once more.

The Prime smiled. His spark was exceedingly happy for his officers and two close friends.

"Perhaps we should leave before they start jumping each other's circuits," Ratchet crudely commented. "Or better yet, shove them into the nearest utility closet so they can repeatedly overload each other into eternal bliss."

Optimus mildly glared at his CMO, "Do you even understand the concept of a romantic moment?"

"Sure I do. I just know the mechs under your command better than you do," Ratchet replied, turning away from the 'romantic moment' of Prowl and Jazz – still kissing.

"Then enlighten me," Prime requested, turning and walking slowly with his CMO.

"They're highly intelligent, honorable, loyal, and intuitive mechs."

"Well, I know that."

"They're also the most egotistic, devious, self obsessive, and interface crazy mechs I've even known!"

Optimus rolled his optics in disbelief.

"Don't believe me? Try this. In the past two weeks I had a mech come in with what the humans call a soda vending machine melted to his chassis because some bot told him it'd be the best overload he ever had. Another mech came in the other day with security restraints on."

"That's doesn't sound like he was interfacing."

"The restraints were attached to his wrists but also attached to a titanium door panel. He forgot the code to the restraints and had to pull the door off its hinges since his partner was too embarrassed to come and get me. And just yesterday I had a mech come in with transfluid in his optic socket!"

"Well, I'm sure Prowl and Jazz, my two most high ranking officers, will conduct themselves appropriately and professionally," Optimus counted unfazed.

A loud crash sound behind them.

Optimus and Ratchet turned to see that Jazz had Prowl pinned against a wall. Both mechs furiously kissing anywhere and anything they could get their lips on while hands wander, groped, grabbed, clawed, and pawed at each other eliciting a multitude of moans and gasps of pleasure.

"Jazz…" Prowl moaned, moving them

"Sorry babe…"


"Can't…need ya! Please…" Jazz groaned, fixing himself on Prowl's hips, both legs wrapped tightly around the tactician's waist, wantonly rubbing his interface panel against Prowl's.

Prowl managed to keep their balance by holding Jazz up by his aft. Strong legs moved more quickly towards their intended destination. In one hurried, yet still graceful move he shifted Jazz's aft to one hand and opened the closet door with the other. Both quickly disappeared inside, closing the door leaving their Prime stunned. A moment later a loud muffled clatter sounded followed by Jazz howling Prowl's name in ecstasy.

"Oh I'm sure they will be very professional," Ratchet retorted with a snicker and then walked off.

Optimus followed his CMO. The Prime's smirk was all too revealing which was why he was glad for his battlemask. As Prime and leader of the Autobots it was his business to know all sides of his mechs. So of course he knew about Cliffjumper's escapade with the vending machine as he'd seen the mech sneak into the Ark late at night while Optimus had been star gazing to clear his processor. Chance happen to leave Optimus in a position of seeing Hound's compromising position and ensuring no one else did by deleting the video recording of from the security data base - it was a rare night where Inferno had managed to get Red Alert to take some time off and Optimus was more than happy to serve a shift in the security director's place. And the Prime most certainly knew about Jazz getting shot in the optic with transfluid because he'd heard everything that transpired between the two black and white mechs yesterday afternoon through the wall he shared with Prowl's office. But as Prime he knew he had to be or at least pretend to be naïve to certain characteristics of the mechs under his command for their honor's sake.

"Wheeljack this is Prime."

"Go ahead Prime."

"Are we on schedule for your little project?"

"Yes, Sir. I've collected enough materials to sound proof the command center to prevent the Decepticons from listening in on our plans. I'll have enough materials to soundproof the officers offices as well."

"Start with Prowl's office first. With the increase of Decepticon activity I'm sure my second and third in command will be working overtime in the coming weeks."

"I'll get started on it right away, Prime. Wheeljack out."

"Honestly, Optimus you should pay attention more," Ratchet continued.

"Ratchet, you know full well being Prime doesn't give me the luxury to be more observant of the mechs under my command."

"That's because you're more of a workaholic than Prowl. At least I know he's doing something to relax now."

"My apologies. I'll have to schedule more missions to Cybertron so Elita can help me relax."

"Don't be a smart aft with me!"

Again Optimus apologized to the CMO, trying not to laugh while Ratchet continued to rant. At the same time Prime sent a text message to his two senior officers. A message that was finally accesses a couple of hours later by one exceedingly relaxed and content saboteur.

"What's so funny?" Prowl quietly asked, tightening his embrace around Jazz, nuzzling his nose against one of the mech's sensory horns.

"Did ya get a message from Prime?"

"I did."

Jazz lifted his head up and gazed down into Prowl's dimmed optics. There was a devious smirk on Prowl's face.

"Ok. Spill it, babe. What are ya scheming?"

"I opened it immediately out of habit whenever I receive any message from Prime. After quickly reading the content, I placed a single call and one communiqué…"

"Was that before or after ya thoroughly ravaged my interface valve wit' yur glossa?

"During," Prowl smirked, revving his engine softly and caressing Jazz's face. "So, unless you want to spend our three days off in this closet I suggest we attempt to be as dignified as possible and meet Skyfire outside. He'll take us to Costa Rica where we can ravage each other from dusk until dawn on a private beach."

"An' then some," Jazz purred.

"Hmm, and then some," Prowl agreed with a kiss.

AN: I can't recall the fic. But there was a comment Jazz made about having to wear a visor because Prowl shot him in the optic with transfluid. I thought it was funny as heck and gave me the idea for the opening of the fic with Jazz in the medical bay. I originally wanted to do it with Prowl choking on his pen but I might do that in another one shot.