Title: A Season of Forgiveness
Author: Mirage Shinkiro

Rating: T, maybe M later
Warnings: mech/mech

Disclaimer: Transformers is the property of Hasbro, and although I wish I could make money off the TF franchise so I could be independently wealthy, I am not. Alas, I remain poor and am just borrowing the lovely robots.

Summary: G1. Happily ever after is not assured and has to be worked hard for. Prowl and Jazz try to find hope, peace, and love during the Christmas season.

A/N, explanation: For the PxJ lj community's Christmas Challenge. Chapter one is 'summer on Christmas' and chapter two will be 'tropical Christmas.'

A/N, time units: klik=1.2minutes; breem=8.3 minutes; joor=roughly an hour; orn=a day; decaorn=10 days; and vorn=83 years.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy . . .
--"Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi

Chapter 1: To Doubt

The humans had said that Christmas was supposed to be a 'merry,' 'happy,' joyful time, but for Prowl, it was turning out to be more of a nightmare. The first half of the nightmare had involved the approaching winter: coming from a world with no snow and a constant, warm temperate thanks to planetary weather control devices, Prowl and most of the crew were having a hard time adjusting to the bouts of snow or cold rain. Therefore, Prowl found himself actually bending the rules during his monitor duty to have Teletraan run a quick search for warmer locales.

Prowl leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he read the search results. Since he and Jazz had leave time coming up, Prowl had immediately begun planning a nice trip for them. Jazz had once mentioned wanting to visit Earth's tropics, specifically hot springs, so Prowl was reading up on said springs at the Arenal volcano in Costa Rica.

Normally, Prowl let Jazz handle these things, but that was where the rest of Prowl's nightmare had asserted itself: they'd been bonded for four vorns now, and Prowl was growing afraid that Jazz was bored or unhappy. 'Bots always joked about the four vorn "itch," supposedly caused in ancient times by a law that forced the couples to 'cycle' on to a new partner. No one remembered now who was in charge of Cybertron then to make such demands, but popular psychology held that the programming created to ensure compliance was still duplicated even now.

Had their relationship already begun to wear thin? Prowl knew his fear was not without basis. Ever since Blaster had arrived on Earth, Jazz had been spending copious amounts of time hanging out with him, even to the point where rumors were beginning to circulate. Some were fairly mundane: "Do you think Prowl and Jazz got in a fight?" Others were insidious: "So Jazz finally woke up, huh? It's about time he ditched Prowl and found someone more his style."

More his style . . .

Prowl frowned and ordered Teletraan I to initiate an audio-only call to the hot springs resort. It was true that Jazz loved music, dancing, and foreign cultures far more than Prowl did, and it was something Jazz and Blaster had in common. Of course, Prowl trusted Jazz implicitly, definitely enough to know Jazz would never step out on him; however, he had to admit that their interfacing life had grown sporadic and routine. They rarely went on special outings anymore, either. They just got up, did their jobs, came back, maybe watched a joor of Earth television, and recharged. Every orn. Without variation, unless there was a battle.

And, except the issue with their love life, Prowl didn't mind that.

In truth, Prowl liked routines. He liked knowing what to expect, liked spending quiet time with Jazz, liked simply sharing a life with Jazz. Prowl saw nothing at all wrong with loving someone enough to share the simplest, most ordinary, and even most tedious things with him.

But that was not Jazz. And, Prowl realized, that was the problem.

Jazz was, by his most basic nature, an improviser. He liked excitement, change, challenge, spontaneity, and uniqueness. It was an attribute Prowl loved in him, and he didn't mind going along for the ride, either. Not every orn, of course. But that was why they'd agreed early on that outside friendships were a good thing, and Prowl had never believed that he and Jazz had to fill every single one of each other's needs. He wasn't naïve enough to think they could.

But now Prowl wondered if maybe he had not played enough of a role in this area. Should he have been taking Jazz to more special places? Trying new interfacing techniques? Providing new experiences? Had Jazz latched on to Blaster because he was giving more than Prowl was?

Prowl shuddered. His logic circuits couldn't quite make sense of it: Jazz asked from time to time for Prowl to go to a concert, try something kinky, or do something new. Prowl had always said yes, understanding his mate's personality. So if Jazz were unhappy, would he not have said something? Would he not have known Prowl would say yes or, at the very least, work out a compromise? It wasn't like Prowl had minded. In fact, some of the things they did he very much enjoyed.

Prowl's thoughts were interrupted as Teletraan I secured the connection to Earth's slow, primitive technology. A woman answered the telephone on the other end, and Prowl used his translation protocols to speak to her in Spanish. Maybe a surprise trip to the hot springs would both help and provide a starting point for a conversation about their relationship.

If Jazz was unhappy, Prowl wanted to know.

oOoOo

Prowl didn't like the way the rec room grew suspiciously quiet when he entered. Normally, that only happened if there was 1.) a party or 2.) a prank being planned. However, as usual he swept across the room toward the energon dispenser without reacting. He'd spied Jazz at a corner table with Blaster, and he was making his way there when he noticed a chorus of whispers at the mini-bots' table. Whispers and glances his way. Prowl held back a frown. So, the rumor mill was at it again.

When Prowl approached Jazz's table, Blaster stood and gestured to his seat. "Here ya go, sir." He smiled and waved at Jazz. "Catch ya later, man!"

"See ya!" Jazz smiled and shifted his gaze to his bondmate. "Hey, Prowler. Actually takin' yer break today?"

Prowl watched Blaster walk off, then sat down. "Yes, I'm trying to make sure I at least take a breem." They didn't always see each other at the mid-shift break, since such breaks were staggered, so Prowl considered himself fortunate to be able to talk to Jazz so soon. "I think we set off the gossipers just now."

Jazz snorted. "What for?" He shook his head. "Ignore 'em. What's up?"

"Well . . ." Prowl paused, unsure how to broach the topic. He glanced around the room to assure he wouldn't be overheard, then dropped his voice. "I've noticed that you're spending a lot of time with Blaster, and I admit it's beginning to concern me. So I thought -"

Jazz snorted, again, this time louder. "Ah, Prowler, it's just because Blaster and I have stuff in common. Ya love music, but it isn't who ya are like it is with me. And that's fine. Ya know ya don't have to share everythin' with me. " Jazz shook his head. "Ratchet said something snide 'bout that to me earlier today. Whatever, man. We both agreed long ago that it's healthy to have outside friends. Blaster's someone who loves music as much as I do. It's kinda nice, ya know? There's nothin' wrong with that."

Prowl couldn't logically disagree with anything Jazz said, but somehow he still felt like something was sliding through his fingers. Like Jazz was slipping slowly away from him. Perhaps it was how defensive Jazz seemed. Prowl hadn't been able to even finish his sentence before Jazz had launched what amounted to a near-rant. "What did Ratchet say to you?"

"Ah, something about me ignorin' ya." Jazz shrugged. "I'm doin' no such thing."

Prowl wasn't quite sure what to do with that statement. "Well, our leave time is this coming decaorn, so I thought we could take a trip. After some research, I-"

"This comin' decaorn?" Jazz sat forward abruptly, clearly surprised. "Ah, man, I totally forgot about that! I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" Prowl was so stunned he could hardly speak. Jazz, forget their vacation time together? Jazz never forgot anything to do with them.

"Yeah. I knew we were due some leave, but I didn't remember when our 'turn' was." Jazz shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his lips. "I kinda made plans with Blaster already. Ya see, there's this awesome benefit concert, lots of good bands. Can we go durin' the next decaorn instead? Prime's usually pretty cool 'bout that."

The next decaorn? Prowl stared at him, too hurt to explain. What was happening? Jazz was always excited to go places with him. He felt his spark clench painfully, sending a burning sensation through his circuits. He looked away, his gaze landing on his cube. It felt like a clear rejection, leaving Prowl's cheeks stinging as surely as though he'd been slapped. "I'll . . . ask him." It was worse than he'd feared. He stood without another word and left, abandoning his energon in the process.

He barely made it into the elevator before his processor froze and crashed.

oOoOo

Prowl stared at himself in the mirror that Sunstreaker and Tracks had insisted be installed in the medbay. His paint was dull, and no matter how straight he held his shoulders, he still looked droopy and tired. Hardly the kind of thing to hold Jazz's attention.

Had they both grown complacent? Were they taking each other for granted? Prowl's processor kept giving him an endless list of possible problems.

Ratchet whisked into the room and glared at him. "Get your aft back on that berth! You don't need to be moving around yet, and I haven't fixed your chevron."

Prowl obeyed without argument, returning to his berth and sitting on the edge. He stared listlessly across the room: empty berths, shiny steel tools, crates of medical supplies . . .

"Hey." Ratchet walked in front of him and knelt in his line of view. "You going to tell me what happened?"

Prowl didn't so much as twitch as Ratchet worked to unbend the corner of his chevron, which he'd slammed into the elevator wall when he'd locked up. "Too much emotional input at once." So much, in fact, that he felt numb now, his logic circuits and processor having protected him by plunging him into a depressive nothingness. He didn't feel like he was actually present or real.

"'Too much emotional input?'" Ratchet repeated, frowning.

It was the simplest answer, and it was true. Prowl had realized quite suddenly that he'd failed in his role as bondmate, and the shock and despair had overwhelmed him. He supposed his view of the matter was rather traditional: even though Jazz didn't need his protection and was one of the most dangerous mechs they had, Prowl still considered it his job to be his champion. Not necessarily physically, although Prowl would do that if needed. But Prowl believed that good bondmates supported and cherished each other's hopes, dreams, and feelings, and he had thought he'd been doing just that. However, if Jazz were feeling so deprived that he forgot their upcoming leave and chose a concert with Blaster over a trip with his bondmate, then obviously Prowl had utterly failed.

Utterly failed.

Prowl didn't even realize Sunstreaker was in the room until he also leaned into his line of view.

"What's wrong with him?" Sunstreaker asked his bondmate.

Ratchet sighed. "I think it probably has something to do with Jazz, although Prowl's not talking."

Prowl was used to being talked about like he wasn't there, so he simply listened, wondering how long it would be before the newly-bonded glow wore off for Ratchet and the twins. They had been bonded less than a stellar cycle, having done so after waking up on Earth. The Ark was still buzzing about it, actually, because until their relationship had turned serious, no one had realized split-spark twins had to both bond to the same 'bot.

"Jazz?" Sunstreaker smirked. "'Cause of Blaster? Yeah, right." He leaned more into Prowl's face. "Besides, I thought you were taking Jazz to some hot springs. Isn't that what you were researching when you broke your own rules this morning?"

"I was," Prowl replied tonelessly, ignoring the barb.

Sunstreaker shook his head and made shooing motions at Ratchet. "Leave him with me. He needs a good coat of new paint and a kick in the head."

"Sunny!" Ratchet frowned.

Prowl didn't bother to come to his own defense. He couldn't seem to find the energy. His entire processor was trying to formulate a strategy to fix his relationship with Jazz, only to trip on the concept that Jazz had to be willing to spend time with him first.

And right now it looked like he didn't want to.

Sunstreaker managed to run Ratchet off, then turned and crossed his arms. "You know, when you don't keep yourself up, it suggests to your mate that you've lost interest." He grabbed Prowl's arm, almost bodily dragging him to his feet and out of the room. "Keeping yourself up, like fresh paint, and keeping yourself healthy -" He threw Prowl a glare. "- like getting enough rest and energon, shows your mate that you have investment in your relationship. After all, if you don't care about yourself, why the slag would you care about your mate? If you don't keep yourself up, why would he think you care if he keeps himself up?"

Prowl wondered vaguely why Sunstreaker even was able to give relationship advice, being so young and newly bonded, and why he was bothering to share it. Then again, ever since he'd bonded to Ratchet, Sunstreaker had radiated a certain peace and joy he'd lacked before.

With an internal shrug, Prowl dropped the line of questioning. His numbness and the despondency that threatened to drown it made him feel too tired to even ask where they were headed.

"If you'd been bonded since your creation, though, you'd know problems never form in a void." Sunstreaker frowned at him, manhandling him down the hallway. "Your attitude and problem are reflections of something going on inside of Jazz. It takes two 'bots to bond, and it takes two 'bots to frag up a bond."

Only then did a surge of panic pierce Prowl's daze. "We're fragged up?" It took him a moment to realize he'd both responded and repeated the cursing.

Sunstreaker smirked, seemingly much amused. "You think you're the first to ever do it? Have you seen Sides and I fight?"

Prowl wanted to point out they were brothers and shared a spark between them, so by definition it had to be different. However, he swallowed his urge to point out the illogic and just accepted that since Sunstreaker was also bonded to Ratchet, he knew what he was talking about.

They'd reached the washracks, and Sunstreaker pulled him inside with little ado. "You have to be perfectly clean, or I can't repaint you." He pushed Prowl onto a stool and set about gathering cleaning supplies.

Prowl didn't bother to argue. Arguing with Sunstreaker was useless even on a good orn, and using a direct order would be overkill. He was trying to help, after all.

"Let me guess." Sunstreaker lined up bottles, some of which Prowl didn't even know the use for. "You thought having a bond meant you'd always know what your bondmate was thinking or feeling? Or you thought it meant you'd always sense when something was wrong? You thought it'd constantly convey your love for you?" He snorted, then continued without waiting for an answer. "Everyone always thinks stuff like that. They can't figure out why Sides and I have knock-down, drag-out fights if we are so intimately connected. Ha!"

Prowl jumped faintly at the sharpness of Sunstreaker's exclamation, then settled back into the void. He knew from previous experience that trying to force his processor forward or his emotional programs online would just result in more crashes.

Still, he had to admit Sunstreaker was right.

"Sure, you can tap directly into your bonded." Sunstreaker grabbed a nozzle, pulling until the cord was fully extended. "But it takes energy and effort. Most 'bots find a comfortable maintenance point that's more a vague sense about the other: he's alive, he's awake, etc. Only the really powerful emotions get through unaided." He pointed the nozzle at Prowl. "It is a constant stream." He turned on the water, spraying Prowl down. "So you take it for granted and stop really noticing it after awhile, just like the water against your armor during a bath."

Prowl stared down at the water rivulets gently flowing over him and understood. "You're saying I missed whatever is wrong because the bond is background noise in my mind that I became habituated to."

"Exactly. Now you'd only notice it if something went suddenly, badly wrong." Sunstreaker turned the control on the nozzle, hitting him with cold water.

Prowl jumped and gasped, holding up his arms.

"Now you notice." A pause, and then the warm water returned.

Prowl lowered his arms and realized he'd severely underestimated what Sunstreaker had been hiding under those dark scowls and cold glares. "What do I do?"

Sunstreaker sighed, turning off the nozzle and dropping it to the floor. "You mean other than the obvious 'go and find out what's wrong and fix it?'" He walked over and knelt in front of Prowl, gazing at him silently for a klik before picking up a bottle and shaking it. "You have to learn to communicate effectively, either with the bond or with words. Or, if you're really as smart as all that, both."

"Communicate?" Prowl stared at him. Had this really all happened due to a lack of communication? He tentatively reached over the bond, trying to reach Jazz on purpose, and recoiled when he hit a wall of anger.

Anger? Prowl wilted further. He really had utterly failed. He could only hope Jazz would listen if he did talk.

It didn't seem promising.

oOoOo

As soon as his shift ended, Jazz began his now daily trek to Blaster's quarters, having no idea Prowl had actually spent the afternoon being subjected to Sunstreaker's repainting process. Knowing Prowl never quite got out of his office on time, at least not since they'd arrived on Earth, Jazz assumed he had a joor or two to kill, and he knew exactly who he wanted to spend it with. With a smile, he bounced up to Blaster's cabin door and buzzed the comm.

Blaster opened the door almost immediately and rather theatrically bowed him into the room. "Hey, man. Come in."

"What'cha watchin'?" Jazz asked as he entered. He considered the screen for a moment: an animated scene of a girl talking with Santa Claus. "A Christmas movie?" The human holiday fascinated him.

"Apparently it's called Dot and Santa Claus." Blaster winced. "I was gonna start channel suffering, actually. I'm still confused by Earth's time increments, but I'm hoping Dallas is on."

Jazz snapped his fingers. "Or The Cosby Show!"

"Or Magnum, P.I." Blaster grinned, sounding quite enthusiastic, and jumped over the back of the couch.

"Or Cheers." Jazz joined him. "It's really fascinatin' to see what humans find dramatic or funny, and sometimes I find it funny, too."

Blaster hesitated before changing the channel, but Jazz thought nothing of it. He focused momentarily on the animated movie, trying to figure out why this Dot girl was asking Santa Claus to help her find her missing kangaroo.

"Uh, Jazz . . ." Blaster sounded a bit uncomfortable. "Shouldn't you maybe spend the evening with Prowl?"

"Hm?" Jazz turned his face toward Blaster, although his optics stayed on the viewscreen. Not that Blaster would know the difference thanks to the visor.

"Jazz, I may be new, but I catch on fast. You've been spending all your time here when off duty." Blaster leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And I heard that you turned down a trip with Prowl so you can go to the concert with me. Don't'cha think Prowl's gonna get jealous?"

Jazz shifted his full attention to Blaster. "Nah, he's not insecure enough to get jealous." He shrugged. "Besides, we agreed a long time ago that it's healthy ta have outside friends. Especially ones who share our interests. You like rock concerts. He doesn't." He couldn't help the note of irritation that slipped into his voice.

Blaster raised one optic ridge at him. "You're mad? Because Prowl wanted to spend time with you and it'd get in the way of the concert?"

Snorting, Jazz turned his attention back to the little girl and her kangaroo rescue mission. Blaster didn't get it. At the beginning of his relationship with Prowl, Jazz had been ready to sacrifice almost anything to be with him. He'd loved him for vorns: loved the mixing of creativity and logic, loved the quick exchanges of ideas and wit, loved Prowl's quiet understanding and listening audio, loved his dry humor and quirky smiles. He'd loved almost everything there was to Prowl, save his overreliance on The Rules, which was something he was determined to change or at least loosen.

Their biggest personality difference, of course, had been Prowl's need for uniformity versus his own need for spontaneity. To an extent, they acted like balancers: Prowl kept him from getting too wild, and he kept Prowl from getting too staid. But when Jazz had realized how difficult it was going to be to work out a compromise, he'd often capitulated to Prowl's needs on smaller things, not wanting to run off the one whom he loved and had wanted to bond with. He had continued to capitulate over 'the little things' even after they'd bonded, putting Prowl's needs over his own 80 percent to 20 percent.

Jazz had capitulated again and again until his quiet, buried resentment had burst full force. Prowl had never recognized or returned his sacrifices.

Sighing, Jazz sighed sank his face into his hands. It seemed silly to think of it that way, that what he did was a sacrifice to be rewarded. But if he were honest with himself, and he generally was, then he had to admit that he felt exactly that. Didn't Prowl notice? Didn't he care? Why wasn't he giving anything back?

Blaster scooted closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man. Are you okay?"

Dropping his hands, Jazz looked up at his new friend. "Not really," he admitted. In truth, he was being hounded by the rumors, and it angered him. He'd lied to Prowl; Ratchet had actually asked if he were leaving Prowl for Blaster. Several 'bots had implied the same thing. It was stupid. Ridiculous! Just because he wanted a little something for himself didn't mean he was going to cheat on his bondmate and try to break the bond.

"What's up, then?" Blaster asked, squeezing his shoulder before dropping his hand.

"Well, it's not that I don't want to spend time with Prowl," he finally admitted. "It's just bad timin'." It's just that I have needs, too. "I don't get to go to a lot of rock concerts since Prowl hates 'em so much." And he gets off balance if our routine stays out of whack for too long. "I musta slagged him off if you've heard all 'bout it, but ya know, I'd like to do somethin' I'm interested in." For a change.

Blaster stared at Jazz. "Are you blind or stupid?"

"Huh?" Jazz frowned at him.

"I don't think this is as simple as you think. Or as obviously innocent in the optics of others." Blaster shook his head. "Do ya know that Smokescreen actually stopped me in the hall earlier today and asked me if we'd 'faced yet? Apparently some 'bots think you're cheating on Prowl with me and are taking bets as to when we'll, ah, 'consummate' it."

Jazz stared at him in horror. "I-what?" Ain't it blaringly obvious just how much I love Prowl from all the sacrifices I've made?

"Sunstreaker told me all about it. Apparently he saw Prowl staring forlornly in the medbay mirror and forced him to sit still for a new paint job." Blaster sighed. "Jazz, you say you want to do something you're interested in, but do ya even know where Prowl was planning to take you?"

Jazz was beginning to get a bad feeling. "No." I didn't even ask.

"Some hot springs in Costa Rica."

"Hot - springs -" Jazz felt like he'd been kicked in the spark. He'd mentioned wanting to visit hot springs a few decaorns ago. Prowl had apparently remembered it, which both made him feel surprised at the consideration and guilty for not hearing Prowl out earlier.

Blaster crossed his arms. "Prowl's a smart 'bot. He knows something's wrong." He cocked his head to the side. "Look, I'll hang out with you anytime, man. Anytime at all. Share music. Go to concerts. But I ain't attracted to you that way, and I've got my optics on Tracks." He smirked. "I also ain't slagging off the SIC by accidentally stealing his bondmate. I don't need that kinda trouble. So you and Prowl get this figured out first, then we'll hang out again."

Jazz didn't have to be told twice. He reached out tentatively and nudged his bond with Prowl. A wave of devastation and depression poured through. He bolted to his feet from the shock. "Got'cha. Thanks, man." He rushed from the room without looking back, transformed in the hallway, and tore out of the base toward the coordinates Teletraan I indicated was Prowl's location.

Night had already fallen, dousing their odd strip of desert with an inky blackness only broken by a sliver of crescent moon. Racing across the sand, Jazz kicked up a storm cloud of dust and flew past boulders and cacti as he rushed to Prowl. Their bond's daily status had sunk rather low since they'd awakened on Earth. Jazz figured that they'd been working so hard to get the crew acclimated and deal with the new challenges that they'd let the pressure and stress flatten the bond somewhat. Now that Jazz really wanted to use the bond to reach out to Prowl, he couldn't get it open enough to transmit thoughts. All he could get was his mate's pain.

He used to pride himself on being able to read Prowl's every doorwing flick and subtle words behind words. How, then, had he missed something as obvious as Prowl's distress over their relationship and his attempt to broach it?

Jazz spotted Prowl sitting on a boulder at the edge of a dry river bed. The moonlight shone off the pristine white patches of his new paint, making him look like an ethereal, untouchable statue. Prowl didn't even look up as Jazz skidded to a stop and transformed. "Prowler?"

Prowl's unmoving gaze was disturbingly vacant. "I'm sorry." His voice was so low Jazz had to boost the gain on his audios.

"Hey, I was wrong to not let ya finish talkin'. I kinda brushed ya off." Jazz frowned, trying to gather all his conflicting thoughts. "I gotta say ya took me by surprise. We haven't done, well, anything since we woke up here. I wasn't tryin' to be an aft, I swear, but ya know how much I love music and concerts. And I've been really excited about this one that's comin' up." He sighed, staring down into the cracked river bed. "We hadn't done anythin' special in so long, I guess I just wasn't expectin' it." The anger edged its way back into his voice, and he cringed. He didn't want to start a fight . . .

. . . and yet, at the same time, he wanted to ask the questions he'd left unvoiced. 'Don't you see? Don't you care'?

Prowl flinched and finally looked up. "Why didn't you say you were unhappy?" He sounded so very confused. "Is it true? Have we failed to actually communicate? I can't fix a problem I don't know exists."

The sheer shock flew straight to Jazz's processor. "Ya couldn't tell? I live for challenges and new experiences, and ya thought I'd be happy doing the same thing every orn for the rest of my life?"

Prowl shrank in on himself, his doorwings flattening to his back. "I am very happy doing even the mundane with you," he whispered, not meeting Jazz's gaze. "But I know that you like new things, and that's why I made the reservations."

"I know yer happy as is. And I love ya, so I've always put yer needs first." Jazz clenched his fists and released all his frustration at once. "So why couldn't you do the same for me? I'm not askin' ya to change who you are! I'm not gonna demand that ya 'be more fun' or 'lighten up' or whatever. I just expected ya to show me the same consideration I was showin' you."

Prowl pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, bracing his feet against the boulder. He didn't look up. "I wasn't seeing it that way. Since you were so extroverted and open, I thought you'd let me know if you felt things were out of balance or if you needed anything. I honestly thought you were happy with our life together, and I never imagined that you'd continually sacrifice your well-being. I suppose I was terribly naïve."

Jazz sighed explosively, wondering how Prowl could miss the obvious. "Prowl, did ya ever consider doin' somethin' just because ya love me?"

"Yes." Prowl's doorwings perked up, growing rigid with stress or perhaps anger. "I am not good with spontaneity, but I have managed to surprise you with trips or outings or such things before."

Jazz relented, realizing Prowl was right. It wasn't like Prowl had never done anything for him or hadn't shown him love after bonding. "Okay, yer right. But I need more of that. If I'm gonna sit through a daily routine with ya, then you need to 'sit' through more excitin' adventures with me."

Prowl stood abruptly. Stiffly. "I apologize. I did not realize that daily life with me took such endless labor and sacrifice to maintain."

Oops. Jazz cringed despite his irritation. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Perhaps not, but it amounts to the same." Prowl's doorwings relaxed into that unnatural stillness that suggested he was suppressing his emotions, although his facial expression never showed anything. "I did not mean to so utterly fail you as a mate. I will endeavor to provide you with sufficient excitement to relieve the boredom of our daily existence."

"Prowl -" Jazz held out his hand, realizing he hadn't done a very good job of expressing his pain. He'd held it in too long and now had made the situation worse when he finally did speak up.

Prowl turned and headed back toward the Ark. "We lost our reservations and leave time because I did, indeed, ask to reschedule. I will come up with something else for us, however."

Jazz watched Prowl transform and race away, back to base. He felt exhausted suddenly. He knew he wasn't wrong to want some equal given and take, but he also realized they were equally at fault for not communicating with each other.

And now it was worse.

Postscript: Thank you to pl2363 and Asher119 for the beta. Chapter 2 is forthcoming using the second prompt.

Yes, Dot and Santa Claus is a real motive about a girl searching for her pet kangaroo and enlisting Santa's help. LOL

The concept of the mirror being installed in medbay comes from Crimson Starlight.