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06 February 2015 @ 01:44 pm
Festival Challenge - Day 5 - Part 3  

The next orn Jazz looked forward to the assignment, just so he had an excuse to cuddle up against Prowl again. It was a bit pathetic. Here he was, a professional Agent, a feared sniper and accomplished undercover spy, and all he could think was cuddling up to his crush under the flimsy pretense of blending in.
Every evening he expected Prowl to point out that there were dozens of other methods, that Jazz was not professional enough, that something was not right. The Praxian never did. Instead he always opened his arms, and Jazz cuddled there as if there was no tomorrow.
And when the way back to the hotel was that cold again and Prowl had no highcube left, it was Prowl that pointed out the logical solution of him carrying the much lighter Polyhexian Agent. Jazz would never admit that his spark nearly stopped at the suggestion and then danced within his spark case all the way back to the hotel.
He was in love. Primus, he was hopelessly in love and every orn made it worse. Even his recharge wasn't Prowl free anymore. He dreamed of Prowl smiling, Prowl laughing, Prowl standing in their living room with a sparkling arm...
It couldn't get worse.
And yet, every evening he cuddled for hours with the mech, talked about small things, worked with him together at a level of synchronization that he had only ever achieved with long term partners before.
It couldn't get better.
He was so, so doomed and he knew it and he didn't find it in his spark to care.
One evening he called Blaster, his best friend and confessed his feelings. His friend did as expected – and laughed.
"Oh Jazz! Eternal sparkbreaker, and now it's your turn. Primus has some justice after all."
Jazz actually growled. "It's not like that!"
"No?" Blaster leaned back in his huge chair with a grin. His legs weren't visible on the screen, but even so Jazz would guess that he had crossed his feet. "You didn't fall for some random Enforcer?"
"I did." No point in denying it anymore. "But he isn't random."
"Of course he isn't! Your spark jumps when he is near, you love his voice, he lust after his aft." Blaster shrugged. "That's normal for every crush. Only that you got your first one a bit later than the rest of us."
Maybe, his friend was right. Maybe, it was that simple. "But what if it isn't just a crush?" asked Jazz quietly. "I don't... I don't want to interface him. I mean, I want it, yes. Yet..."
"Yet?" Blaster leant forward, clearly interested.
"I just want him there, you know. In my life." Jazz rubbed his helm. "I know that it's ridiculous, I barely know him."
The DJ sighed. "Jazz, I... let me ask you one question. Have you seen mechs you thought sexy and great and wanted to interface with?"
"Sure. Who hasn't?"
"How does Prowl compare to them?"
Jazz didn't even think for a second. "Like a world champion in circuitsu taking out a youngling who had three lessons."
"Seriously?" Blaster sounded amazed. "No competition?"
"None." Jazz sighed. "It's difficult to explain, but when he is there, everything is better."
"I see. Well, it's not that surprising, really. He seems a bit like your opposite, but whenever you talk about interests or something you say you agreed. So you are similar and even your jobs are similar... don't give me that look, I know it's classified. I'm just taking educated guesses here."
Jazz softened his glare. "Maybe sometimes too educated."
Blaster shrugged. "I never did anything wrong or told anyone. So, back to the important mech here, Prowl. As far as I can see it, my friend, you have now two wonderful options. Number one," he held up one finger, "this is your first real crush and you're totally overreacting."
Jazz nodded. "Okay."
The second finger joined in. "Or number two. He is the One for you."
"The One?" repeated the Agent.
"Sure, your sparkmate, Primus Intended, the one who completes you. The One." Blaster smiled. "I don't know about you, but if there was even a tiny chance that this mech is the One, I would go for it."
Two deca-orns ago, Jazz would have laughed, agreed and taken off run after his crush. But this was stoic Prowl and the thought to misstep, to see Prowl walking away, constricted his spark. He needed time. Time to accept this, to plan and to then slowly move.
Only, he was in the middle of an operation and it was no option to suddenly go all romantic here. Prowl would probably disapprove anyway, the mech liked rules. But the assignment would end in less than five orns and then Prowl would walk away anyway... what then? Hoping that Prowl maybe decided to visit Polyhex and gave him a call?
"Jazz?" asked the DJ quietly. "You alright?"
"Yeah... just thinking." He tried to smile.
Blaster's concern was obvious. "Hey, Jazz, whatever happens, you know that you have friends in Polyhex that are more than willing to provide a shoulder to cry on."
"Forgive me for hoping that I will not need said shoulder."
"Just an offer, Jazzy."
"Don't call me that." But he had to grin. "I call you in a few orns, okay?”
"Sure. And catch that Praxian. I know he can't resist you." Blaster gave him a wink. "Bye!"
The screen went black.
Jazz stood from his own chair and checked his chronometer. He had to go. And his spark fluttered happily in its case. The next assignment with Prowl would start in twelve breems and already he was hoping that he could touch that warm plating again and never let go.
In the end, the terrorist attack came as swiftly and mercilessly as they were prone to. Jazz and Prowl were watching another show, while cuddling, when the call destroyed all peace:
::Command Center to all teams, unidentified flier above Hall Ten. He's carrying something that might be dynamite. Start Evac plan Delta. Epsilon Team, abandon the balcony and get to the roof!::
Jazz slid down from Prowl directly next to the sniper rifle, took it and threw it towards Prowl. The Praxian caught the suitcase and started running, Jazz only a few meters behind him with the second sniper suitcase. By now they knew the layouts here well and their balcony had been only down a few meters from the door that led to the roof. The Enforcer didn't hesitate to kick that door down and then climbed up the ladder behind it.
::Team Epsilon here,:: Prowl said over the comms. ::ETA: 20 astroseconds. Shoot to kill?::
::Flier has ignored all hails and warning. Team Epsilon: Eliminate the target.::
::Acknowledged,:: send both Enforcer and Agent back.
The roof was as cold as the first one, and covered with snow. Both snipers hid behind a chimney, opened their suitcases and activated their infrared sensors.
"Two hundred meters above," said Prowl. "Visuals not available."
The clouds hid the flier well. Jazz brought his rifle out, and laid down on the roof. "You, secondary?"
Elimination orders were usually given to a team of two snipers. One was the primary, who shot first the spark. The secondary shot an astrosecond later, and a bit higher, trying to hit the vital neuro center above the spark. The intention was to make sure that the mech was really dead in case the first sniper missed or was otherwise incapacitated.
Jazz looked through the telescope and saw the warmth aura of the target. He slowed his own engine, and his spark for the first time in orns calmed. Vorn long training took over as he observed the flight path, predicted the next turns and aimed.
"Shot in three astroseconds."
"Acknowledged," said Prowl
"Three, two, one." He pulled the trigger. The rifle threw him back on the snow. At the same time he heard another shot from his right and then Prowl was lying on top of him. Somewhere above them was a scream, that cut short and then they heard the sharp whistling of something falling.
"Hit," he said with satisfaction.
"Hit," echoed Prowl above him, and as Jazz wriggle out from beneath him, he saw that the same feeling was clear as the sun on the Praxian's face.
Hit. Every sniper knew that sweet triumph.
Jazz smiled and instead of standing up, cuddled against Prowl. "I'm cold," he said half-heartedly.
Against his back, Prowl hummed.
Standard procedure was to pull a sniper that had killed out of the field. Central Command decided that the best was to send Team Epsilon home immediately and didn't even pretend to listen to Jazz's objections. Prowl simply accepted the order, packed up is stuff and walked down to the lobby where a cap would pick him up.
Jazz didn't know what to do. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to say, but in that lobby all words were lost to him. So instead he stood in front of his crush (his Primus' Indented, his sparkmate, his One) and was entirely busy with the simple fact of not doing something crazy like chaining Prowl to the berth.
"I guess, that's it..." Jazz said, feeling awkward. "I enjoyed working with you." Understatement of the millennia.
Prowl nodded politely, and his doorwings also swept down and up an in elegant arc. "You have been one of the best partners I have had the pleasure to work with. I will mention it in our report."
"Yeah..." Jazz tried to smile. "I had the feeling that Central Command expected us to kill each other."
"Our personalities look quite incompatible on paper." The doorwings twitched. "Fortunately, in reality it proved to be a better match."
"Far better," Jazz managed to say, and then his mind was blank. Tell him, his spark screamed. Tell him! But it was not the right time. Not now, not at the end of an assignment after having just killed a mech. And certainly not here, in a lobby where already the concierge and other agents were looking at them with curiosity.
Still struggling with himself, Prowl took his luggage, bid his goodbye and left.
Jazz could only look after him and felt as if with every step of Prowl walking away, his world turned greyer and greyer.
When he returned to Polyhex the city welcomed him with open arms like always. It hadn't changed, his friends hadn't changed and yet everything was different. Jazz had changed and everyone noticed it. He found no delight in flirting anymore, and declined every one night stand. And when he saw the doorwings of a Praxian he was distracted so much, that he managed to bump into Blaster. Thankfully, his friend had realised what had happened and gave him a sad smile.
"The One, uh?"
Jazz was proud of himself that he had only nodded. After a quarter-vorn he decided that no one could prohibited him from visiting Praxus. And if he ran into a certain Enforcer, well, it was time that fate played on his side, right?
He was clicking himself through the internet to find a good offer for a Praxian hotel, when he got a call.
He answered without looking at the number. ::Jazz here, how can I help ya?::
::Uh... this is Prowl.::
Jazz nearly fell from his chair and suddenly his spark span out of control. ::Prowl!::
::Yes. Is this a bad time to call?::
He sounded so uncertain, that Jazz wanted to hug him.
::No, no, not at all,:: he tried to assure the Praxian, but couldn't keep his hands still. He was too nervous, too giddy. ::Ya can't call at a bad time, really. How are ya?::
::Good, thank you.:: Prowl paused for a second. ::I have wondered if you offer of a visit is still standing?::
Could it be...? ::Yes,:: he said and prayed as hard as never before. ::Ya want to come?::
::Only if it is not an inconvenience or you.::
Jazz could've hugged the world and Unicron and the universe itself. ::Never! I want ya to have here. I can't wait.::
A moment of silence, then Prowl said warmly, ::I really look forward seeing you as well. Maybe we can get to know each other better, now that we are off-duty.::
::I would love too.:: Jazz smiled happily. ::I couldn't get ya out of my thoughts since then.::
::Yes. I was the same,:: Prowl said quietly. ::My vacation begins in two decaorns, I would like to visit then.::
::Perfect! Maybe we can call each other until then?::
::I would like that very much. Maybe you can tell me a bit more how you have fared since we separated?::
Jazz grinned and let himself fall on the couch and began talking. The world was alright again, shining in more colors than ever and he was contend.
When he put his hand over the spark that was spinning in lazy happiness, he knew that he had found his One. And that he loved him.
Additional information:
“It is always brave to say what everyone thinks.”
The Quote is from George Duhamel,a French author who died 49 years ago (1966) in Paris.
The carnival carts all do exist in one way or another. Of course, they don’t depict Transformers but humans. The Megabath cart for example showed in reality Osama bin Laden – the name was changed to “Osama bin Baden” which in German means “Osama is bathing”.