Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own the Transformers.

AN: This goes along with Starscream's Mishap's Love is a Battlefield. I received permission to use her universe and write it. It was actually written several months ago, and may be edited in the future, but I just don't have the time to do it now. So I figured I'd let people read it and see what everyone thinks.

Love is a Battlefield: Eternity

Smokescreen supposed that it could have been worse. Granted he never thought that death would be quite like this. The pain was gone, but Smokescreen had always had the private belief that after death there would simply be bliss, no real consciousness. He was fully aware, well at least self-aware.

This was Grapple's lab. Okay this was unexpected. Wasn't he supposed to go to the Matrix when his spark was extinguished?

"Yes, but occasionally people need a guide."

Smokescreen jerked around, air hitching in his intakes. He was there, looking as he had in life, in the condition Smokescreen had lovingly restored him to after his death. Prowl. He stood there, with a smirk that he had never worn in life

"Prowl..." Smokescreen wasn't sure if had actually spoken out loud.

"Smokescreen."

"Why are you here?"

"You needed a guide."

"A guide."

"Yes."

"And they chose you?"

"Apparently."

"Who the Pit are you? Prowl doesn't act like this."

Prowl laughed. Threw his head back and laughed. Smokescreen tensed. "Sorry it's just, well we're not at the mercy of our programing here. There's choice. Most of us choose to retain most of our personalities, but it's no longer integral to who we were."

"So you're not Prowl."

"No I am. I'm just... more."

Smokescreen wasn't sure how long they stood there in silence, just staring at Prowl. It shocked him that although the lab was dark he could see Prowl perfectly. The cycling of the door broke the silence, and Smokescreen turned to see who had entered. Jazz. He felt his spark contract. He could have done without ever seeing that particular mech again. As Grapple came to speak with Jazz, Smokescreen felt a light touch along his back. He stiffened. "What do you think you're doing?"

Prowl smiled, but didn't remove his hand.

"Stop it." Smokescreen felt himself getting angry. This wasn't fair. Prowl belonged to Jazz. He had proved that in life. He flinched, as Grapple began to harvest his parts as he had specified.

"No." The quiet, serious tone caught him off guard.

"No." Smokescreen turned to face the mech behind him. "No. I spent years loving you. Years mourning your death. Years hiding what I felt because you were with him. I spent years alone, hiding who I am because he decided to play the slagging martyr. And you think that being dead changes any of that?"

"Yes." One word stopped Smokescreen's rant. Prowl stepped forward invading the other mech's personal space. "I was wrong. I was wrong and young and stupid. If I had known I would meet you I never would have bonded with Jazz. But it happened. I couldn't change that, and I couldn't change how my spark, how my battle computer acted."

Smokescreen took a step back, shaking his head. Prowl simply took a step forward. "But my spark is my own again. I refuse to make the same mistakes in eternity that I made in life."

"And what happens when Jazz shows up here? He's going to sooner or later." The tone was bitter.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Smokescreen snarled.

"I love you."

"Until Jazz comes back."

Prowl shook his head. "No. Not this time." He titled his head to the side and grabbed Smokescreen's hands. He pulled him along and Grapple's lab dissolved around them, reforming as the Memorial Garden. Smokescreen had never been there, not even during Prowl's dedication. His encounter with Jazz had been too painful, too recent, and his emotions to noticeable. Instead he had stayed in and got himself completely over energized, playing every sappy song he could remember.

He pulled his hand out of Prowl's. "Why the Pit are we here?"

"Because you need to see something."

"Like Hell I do!" Prowl smiled. Smokescreen's time on Earth showed through with his choice of words. Prowl simply grabbed his hands and dragged the resisting mech after him. When they came to two plaques, one covered in a sheet, that seemed to be secluded on their own. Smokescreen hissed. Jazz was stood in front of them, speaking to them. Smokescreen watched transfixed as Jazz reached up and pulled off his Widow Tag, and dropped it in to the hole in front of the sheet covered memorial. Jazzs words didn't reach his audios, but his eyes didn't lie. He moved up to look at the uncovered plaque. It was Prowl's.

"What is the meaning of this?" Smokescreen demanded.

"Jazz never told you."

"Told me what?"

Prowl hissed. "That slaggard. It was my last request. I know I hurt him, but Primus couldn't he get over himself long enough to heed it."

"Heed what?"

Prowl went ridged. "When I was dying, I was in so much pain. So much. My mind reached out for Jazz, trying to bleed off the pain. While I lay there I knew without any doubt that it was wrong, that I should have been reaching for you. In those astroseconds I asked Jazz to tell you I was sorry. I didn't care how much it hurt him. I needed you to know."

Smokescreen was silent. He was unsure how long he stood there just staring at the sight of his plaque next to Prowl's. By all rights that should have been Jazz's spot, but instead it was his. He turned to face Prowl, disbelief apparent in his entire frame.

Prowl reached out and brushed his fingers along the top of Smokescreen's chevron. He closed his fist and ran a joint lightly down the side of Smokescreen's face. Smokescreen let his optics shutter off, and tilted his head back, as Prowl's hand continued to descend. Prowl's hand never left his body, as he felt the other mech step closer, flush against his chest plate. Smokescreen shuddered, as he felt Prowl bring up his other hand to cradle his face.

He wanted to be angry. He wanted to turn away, to hurt Prowl as much as he had been hurt. But he couldn't. Smokescreen turned his face into Prowl's hand. He turned into the hand until his palm brushed his lips. Gently he kissed the palm, and felt a shudder, so similar to his own, reverberate through Prowl's frame. In that moment there was only forgiveness. Life was done and over; now was eternity, and it was theirs.

Hesitantly Smokescreen brought his hands up to rest on Prowl's hips, gently gliding them over the plating of the mech in front of him. A trembling smile passed between them, neither sure how to proceed.

"I love you." Prowl's voice was soft, unsteady. It was a soft caress, to match the hand on his face, and Smokescreen believed it. He opened his optics, looking into Prowl's. Awkwardly he leaned in to press his mouth against Prowl's. Prowl moaned low in his throat, into the kiss; kissing back desperately. Smokescreen pulled him closer possessively. Vents hissed as he attempted to pull enough air into his intakes. He pulled back from the kiss so their lips were just barely touching. "Not here." It came out a breathy whisper, as Smokescreen barely restrained himself from devouring Prowl's mouth.

The Memorial Garden spun around them, and they found themselves in a dark expanse. They hadn't left each other's arms and Smokescreen tightened his arms before plundering Prowl's mouth, desperately trying to relay every emotion he'd felt since that sparkwrenching day their relationship had ended. Prowl kissed back just as feverishly.

The hand Prowl had left on Smokescreen's face moving to clasp the back of his neck, fusing their mouths together; the other slipping up to wrap around his waist. Smokescreen's hands where not idle during this time. They ghosted up Prowl's sides, crept around his back, teasing the joints of his doorwings. Prowl moaned into the kiss; the revving of his engine breaking the silence. He felt his knees quiver before they gave out completely. Never relinquishing his hold on Smokescreen, Prowl dragged him down with him. The other mech allowed it, trapping Prowl's body beneath him. His hands continued to move, exploring the other's body. Prowl whined in pleasure.

It seemed to go on for hours. Teasing touches, ghosting sensations, as the lovers relearned each other. Overload lingered, it seemed, almost as long as the build up. As the sensations subsided, Smokescreen pulled Prowl close, content to just be. Prowl angled his head up, before pressing his lips to Smokescreen in a chaste kiss. A promise of fealty and devotion. The beginning of eternity.

Well there you have it. It's my first attempt to write anything sexual in nature at all.