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Assistant: Title: Tell it To My Heart
        Author: Exdraghunt Exdraghunt 
        Chapter: 1/21 
        Summary: Prowl is the new mech on the force, and everyone wants a piece of him. Jazz takes on the challenge of getting the pretty Praxian into his berth.In which poor decisions are made, and Prowl is left to deal with the consequences.
        Contents: Chapter 1
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Jazz kicked back in his chair and took a gulp of his cube, looking around the Precinct Mess Hall with interest. He’d just returned from a multi-vorn undercover mission, and was very much looking forward to catching up with his friends and the latest gossip.Smokescreen was relaying to him the newest betting pools around the office when a new mech walked into the mess and stole Jazz’s attention. The new mech was a Praxian frame, already a novelty in Iacon, with sharp black and white paint and smooth, handsome faceplates. As Jazz watched, he strode up to one of the energon dispensers and pulled a cube before moving to sit alone at a table in the corner.“Who’s the new mech, Smokey?” Jazz questioned, nodding at the black and white.“That would be one Prowl of Praxus.” Smokescreen followed his companions’ gaze, lips turning up in a sneer. “He’s fresh off the transport. And he’s a real gearstick, too.”“Yeah?” Shame, the mech was very pretty to look at. Jazz had always liked Praxians, and had played with all the ones stationed at Iacon Central at one point or another. “Real looker, though. Anyone taken him ‘round the block yet? He a treat in berth, at least?”“Here’s the thing, nobody knows!” Smokescreen gave an expressive shrug, wings bobbing. “He’s turned down every single mech who’s asked. Bam, shot down before you get so much as a ‘hello’ out.”“Even you?” Jazz was surprised, Smokescreen was usually pretty good at getting mecha into his berth.“Even me.” Smokescreen frowned. “Rumor’s going around that he’s still sealed.”“Sealed? A mech that looks like that?” Jazz could hardly believe it.“That’s what they’re saying. In fact, we’ve even got a little bet about it.”“Yeah? Gimme the deets.” Jazz leaned forward in interest.“Well, obviously hacking his medical file would be the easy way, but then you’d have Ratchet on your aft.” Smokescreen pulled out a vape and took a long drag, blowing the smoke out in a thick cloud. “So the terms are pretty easy. First mech to get him into their berth, wins.”Jazz grinned. “Count me in.” Operation ‘woo Prowl’ was a go. This was clearly a mission that would take every ounce of guile that Jazz possessed. Fortunately, he wasn’t the best the undercover department had for nothing.Normally, getting a mech into his berth was as easy as fluttering his panels and flashing his EM field. Jazz was well known for being a fun, casual frag and he was more than happy to take any askers for a spin. Prowl would be a tougher shell to crack, though.Jazz started out slowly. The next cycle, he walked over to Prowl’s table in the corner of the mess hall and dropped into the seat across from the mech. Prowl looked up curiously, wings giving a brief twitch.“Hey, Prowl, right?” Jazz put on his best charming smile. “I’m Jazz, just got back from an extended assignment. Wanted ta welcome ya ta Iacon.”“If you are trying to goad me into interfacial activities, you will find that your coworkers have already tried and failed on that front.” Prowl said in a flat voice, sipping from his cube.It took all of Jazz’s training not to flinch. Instead, he just chuckled. “Nah, mech. Ain’t like that. Jus’ being friendly.”“I see.” Prowl’s expression didn’t change. “Well, thank you then. I am sure I will enjoy my time in Iacon.”“Well, if ya need a tour guide, lemme know, yeah?” Jazz offered cheerfully.“I will keep that in mind.” Prowl went back to his datapad, a clear dismissal.Jazz retreated, satisfied with his attempt, and did his best to ignore the amused optics of Smokescreen watching him. Jazz gave it a decacycle before approaching Prowl again. He got the distinct impression that, despite his ‘cold as ice’ attitude, the Praxian would be easily scared off if he pushed too hard.“Seems like y’ve always get yer olfactory in a datapad,” Jazz commented as he joined Prowl for a midday cube. “What’cha readin?”“Hello Jazz.” Prowl greeted without looking up from his pad. “I am reading Cold Case files.”“Really?” Jazz was rather surprised. He’d gotten the impression from a bit of careful research that Prowl was a specialist who had been specially requested by Iacon Central. “They got ya workin’ on Cold Cases?”“I do not do well idle. I prefer to keep my processor busy.” Prowl explained. “So I am analyzing old cases to see if I can bring new insight until such time as my talents are needed.”“And what talents are those?” Jazz asked curiously. Sure, he could just pull the mech’s file from Praxus, but where was the fun in that?“Tactics.” Prowl said simply. “I was designed to manage squads of Enforcers in real time. I can track and analyze 800 moving objects at one time. I can also back-trace the trajectory of objects, so I am also in service to mechaforensics.”Jazz whistled. “Sounds like ya got a pit of a processor in that helm.”“One of a kind.” Prowl’s voice didn’t change, even as he bragged a little. “The mods have not been successfully replicated in any other mech.”“They ever give ya grief?” Jazz knew a few mechs with one-of-a-kind mods, and there was often a reason they didn’t go into mass production.Prowl was silent for a long moment. “It is manageable.”Jazz nodded, willing to let it lie there. “Well, lemme know if you need a hand wit’ the cold case stuff. I’ve been around for awhile, might remember some of them.”It seemed like Prowl was going to dismiss him, but then the mech hesitated. “Actually, there is this one case I am looking at-“Jazz scooched his chair closer. “Lay it on me, mech.” Ever so slowly, Jazz managed to get closer to Prowl. The mech was intensely private, so it wasn’t easy, but Jazz had the patience and determination. He watched as other mecha tried their luck, and were turned down with a glare and a few harsh words.“Sure are popular, mech.” Jazz commented as the latest would-be suitor was sent packing.“Apparently so.” Prowl grumbled. “Much to my irritation.”“Don’ like being the center of attention, then?” Jazz asked carefully, wondering if he’d get an answer. Few Enforcers would turn down their cohort so vehemently, and Jazz wondered if Prowl had been so anti-social back in Praxus as well.“I do not.” Prowl confirmed. “I fail to see the appeal of interfacing, and such relationships often lead to conflict within the unit.”“There’s more ta life than interfacing, mech.” Jazz said with a laugh. “What about friends?”Prowl’s brow furrowed in thought. “I have. Never had friends.”Aww, wasn’t that sad. Jazz felt a little piece of his spark break for the mech. “Well, I’ll be yer friend. If you’d let me.”Prowl stared at him with piercing blue optics, as though he was trying to stare through Jazz’s façade and into his spark. Finally, he gave a brief sigh. “If you wish.”Inside, Jazz celebrated. “So, how goes the mission to seduce Prowl?” Smokescreen asked casually.Jazz choked on his fuel and looked around cautiously. “Smokey! Keep yer voice down, what if he hears ya?”“He’s out on a case.” Smokescreen wagged a wing dismissively. “So, spill!”“It’s slow goin’, but ya know that.” Jazz pulled out a rag and wiped at the energon spattered on his chestplate. “He’s real skittish. So I don’ wanna hear about ya or anybody else sabotagin’ me.”“I would never interfere with an active mission.” Smokescreen grinned and took a pull from his vape. “Good luck, Jazz.”“Don’ need it.” Jazz stuck his glossa out. “Jus’ sit back and watch the Jazz-meister work.”    There was a corner of Iacon Central jokingly called ‘Little Praxus.’ Someone higher up thought it was amusing to take all the Praxian expats and assign them all to desks in the same corner of the bullpen. They had a little, miniature crystal garden, some posters for popular Praxian shows, and special-ordered chairs designed to accommodate sensor wings. Skids regularly went to Praxus to visit family, and often brought back regional trinkets to share with Smokescreen and Barricade. And now, Prowl.The dour Praxian accepted them all with a monotone ‘thank you’, and kept the little trinkets lined up on his desk with careful precision.Jazz wove his way through the bullpen with the ease of experience, dodging outstretched legs and kibble as he made his way through the aisles and towards Little Praxus.“Prowl!” He called to the only occupant. The Praxian didn’t look up from his work. Everyone else was at midday fuelling break, but when Jazz had noticed a certain black and white mech missing, he had come looking.“Prowl.” Jazz tried again, once he was closer. He reached out and nudged the mech’s shoulder.Finally, Prowl looked up from his terminal. “What?”“Ya skipped yer fuel break.” Jazz held out a cube. “So I brought ya some.”“Oh. Thank you.” Prowl accepted the cube and sipped at it, before turning back to his work. His processor fans were audibly whirring, and Jazz realized that Prowl was hardlined into his terminal. No wonder he hadn’t heard Jazz at first.“Need a break?” Lengthy time hardlined could be hard on the processor.“No. I need to finish the analysis on this scene.” Prowl turned away, optics going dim as his focus returned to his terminal. “Thank you for the fuel.”And with that, he was lost in his analysis again. Jazz watched for a moment before turning away.  Prowl wasn’t sure what to do about the mech who seemed so determined to be his friend. Back in Praxus, his cohort had been content to leave him alone. Once the initial spate of mecha interested in taking him to berth had died down, it seemed that most of the officers at Iacon Central seemed happy to quietly ignore him as well.All except one.“Hey, Prowl. There’s a show at Maccadam’s tonight.” Jazz leaned casually against the Praxian’s chair. “Just wanna invite ya.”“You’re. . . inviting me to go out to a bar?” Prowl’s wings twitched. “Why?”“Well, I’ve got a lil’ band I play with sometimes, an’ we’re performing.” Jazz grinned. “The whole precinct is invited, but I wanted ta make sure ya knew too.”Prowl felt a strange sense of disappointment. Of course, everyone would be going. It wouldn’t be a one-on-one outing, like a date. Did he want to go on a date? With Jazz? That he didn’t have an immediate answer for that question disturbed him.“I will consider attending.” Prowl said carefully. He had resolutely refused any invitation to go out drinking with his cohort back in Praxus, and it hadn’t taken long for mecha to simply stop inviting him in the first place. Maybe. Maybe it was time to start at least trying. Standing in front of Maccadams, Prowl felt the sudden urge to simply turn tail and return to the barracks. The bar was packed with mecehanisms, all sitting kibble to kibble laughing and talking. Music and noise spilled out of the bar and into the street, making Prowl’s wings twitch from the input. He didn’t want to go in, but he had said he would come see Jazz perform. That was how friendships worked, right? You supported eachothers hobbies and endeavors.Dialing his sensors down as far as they would go, Prowl took a deep vent and walked into the bar. He quickly went up to the bartender and ordered a non-intoxicating midgrade, then found himself a seat with a view of the stage. Occasionally, overcharged mecha knocked into his wings or bumped up against his shoulders, and Prowl gripped his cube tighter with a grimace on his face. Right, this was why he didn’t go out drinking.And then, his coworkers found him.“Hey, Prowl!” Nightbeat sat down next to him with a cube of something that glowed bright violet. “I see you finally got out of the office. Here to see Jazz perform?”“Of course he is!” Streetwise took his other side with a grin. “I hear Jazz asked him personally.”“Jazz invited me to come, and so I am here.” Prowl bit out. He didn’t appreciate being made fun of.“Well, of course. Because Jazz asked.” Streetwise chortled.Fortunately, Prowl was saved when the subject of their discussion walked out onto the stage. Jazz had been shined up and polished for the occasion, and the stage lights gleamed off his sparkling paint. In his hands was an enormous, well-kept electro-bass, which he held casually as he waved to the assembled mecha.At one point, Jazz’s visor meet Prowl’s optics, and the grin on the musician’s face widened. Prowl’s wings twitched, and his face felt oddly warm. But he didn’t have time to analyze his reaction, because then Jazz strummed his bass and started to sing.There were other mecha onstage with him, a red cassette-carrier and a shark-former, but Prowl only had optics for Jazz. His voice filled the bar, quieting all other conversation, and the low thrum of his bass tugged at Prowl’s spark. Prowl wanted to wrap himself up in that voice and never let go.He was apparently staring, because Nightbeat nudged him with a grin. Prowl shut his mouth and schooled his expression, but couldn’t bring himself to look away. Jazz was so captivating when he performed.Station gossip would probably be all over him ‘mooning’ over Jazz, but in the moment, Prowl couldn’t bring himself to care. For once, he was able to stop thinking about the future, and just focus on the present. For once, his processor was quiet. As Jazz played, he kept a careful optic on Prowl. The Praxian was without his characteristic frown, instead staring up at the performers with bright, sparkling optics and a slack jaw. Jazz thought it made him look even more beautiful.After finishing up his set (with encore!), Jazz, Blaster, and Sky-Byte moved down into the crowd to say hello to their admiring audience. Everyone was congratulating them, cheering and slapping their backs and offering to buy them drinks. Jazz made sure to give everyone a smile and a few words, though really he was looking for one mech in particular.Unfortunately, it seemed that Prowl had slipped out while Jazz had been distracted by his fans. That was alright. Because Jazz had seen the look on the Praxian’s face. His plan was working just fine.'
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