To Woo a Datsun

Transformers (G1) Verse
Rating: PG
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, itty-bit of Blaster

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or anything to do with them. Thanks for rubbing it in. |:P

A/N - Thanks to EVERYONE who did alerts and faves for this story. I'm really glad that you are enjoying it as much as I am while writing it. Thanks to DitzyMusicLover, phoebe turner, and Dragon Queen88 for your comments. Enjoy, All!! :)

Attempt 4 – Let Music Be the Fruit of My Love…unless there is fire involved.

Up until this point, Jazz considered it reasonable to say that things had not exactly gone to plan for the saboteur. They had, in fact, gone really rather horridly, but he wasn't one to focus on the negative. You can't get ahead when all you focus on is what is behind you. Or something like that.

Jazz shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. This is how it had been for him lately – wandering the halls when not on duty just contemplating what he should do concerning the ever allusive second-in-command. The visored mech truly was a brilliant thinker, but when he started over-thinking things became convoluted and he often found himself sidetracking far too easily.

That and he was really REALLY frustrated by the lack of progress that he had made with Prowl. The more subtle and minor attempts had been either brushed off as just his usual "quirky behavior" –The tactician's words, not his. Trying to get him alone nearly got both of them slagged. Discouragement was encapsulating Jazz and giving in seemed to be the most prudent and logical of choices. Then again, frag logic.

The sound of heavy pedes thundering down the hallway that he had unceremoniously commandeered for pacing interrupted his musings. A brilliantly colored mech skidded to a halt in front of him. Their faceplate as jubilant as ever.

"Hey there, Jazz-man. How's it hangin'?" Blaster asked with an impish grin.

"It's hangin', Blaster. About all it's good for right now." Jazz offered with a slight depreciating smile.

The orange and red mech nodded with a commiserating sound.

"Ah, well. At least I've got our concert tonight to clear me out of my funk for a few hours, eh?" The black and white commented brightly before noticing the Communication Officer's rather apologetic expression. Jazz's faceplates fell flat in response and he was pretty sure somewhere in the universe a kitten had succumb to some ridiculously tragic death.

"Ya can't go, can ya?" He asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"Sorry bro, no can go. I have to help Cosmos encode some new jive'n frequency he is set to be usin'. Last minute request and there's no backin' out for the Blaster." He frowned sorrowfully at his friend, watching the saboteur complete his deflate. Jazz's latest 'quest' had had the mech occupied off and on for the last vorn. He hadn't made it any secret what, or rather who, he was after, but that didn't seem to matter. Things hadn't gotten anywhere and they were taking their toll on the normally groovin' bot.

"Well hey, no fear, the tickets are still good. You should grab some other bot. I'm sure plenty will want to go."

Blaster watched as Jazz's visor band angled slightly in what he had learned over the vorns was intense contemplation before something seemed to click in his helm and suddenly the Jazz-man was back in the building. Smiling, the orange mech pulled the tickets from his subspace and handed them off to the waiting black hand. "Here you go - all ready and waiting for you."

He paused in his hand off at the look on Jazz's face, expression falling. "Oh no, bro. You aren't seriously thinkin' of askin' him, are you?"

Jazz's sheepish grin had Blaster smacking a servo to his forehead in hopelessness. So much for trying to steer his friend clear of disaster.

---- : | ----

A low knock on his door startled Prowl from the datapad that he had been absorbed in. Frowning to himself since very few visited him without a standing appointment, and fewer of those actually knocked, he turned towards the door and called "Enter."

A black helm with two stubby audio horns peeked around the edge of the now open door. "Hi, Prowler. Ya' busy?" The saboteur asked almost carefully? Oh no. That did not bode well for the enforcer.

"I am, but what can I help you with, Jazz?" The tactician managed to politely ask without showing a hint of his wariness. No need to jump to conclusions as to the reason of the visit. The Ark still appeared to be standing and there had been no reports of mischief the last orn.

"Nothin' much. I was just kind of wonderin' if you were busy t'night. There's a music festival playin' over in Lincoln City that I have a couple of tickets to." A small ray of hope shined in the saboteur's spark when Prowl didn't immediately reject his offer. In fact, the tactician leaned back from his desk and raised a hand to his chin in thought - apparently weighing the pros and cons of the saboteur's offer.

"What kind of music will there be at this…festival?" The doorwinged mech asked with some uncertainty, rolling the last word around as if discomforted by the term. Jazz fully stepped into the second's office now that he was sure he wasn't being flat out denied. Thus, also allowing the smooth metal of the door to final slide closed with a sharp clang.

"Well, there's this jazz-fusion ensemble that is going to be playing earlier in the evenin', but I was more lookin' forward to the Baroque Orchestra that was playin' later on. They're suppos'd to be one of the best in the world." He trailed off looking hopefully to the mech across from him. The saboteur did his best to put on his most endearing turbo puppy expression, although the visor kind of didn't help.

The SIC's eyes narrowed as he absorbed and reviewed the information. The mech seemed to be giving entirely more thought to the invitation then Jazz would have expected. Finally reaching judgment, Prowl lifted his helm and focused at the now fidgeting Jazz.

"Very well. What time should I plan to be ready?"

Jazz was pretty sure his jaw hinge would have come completely undone if it weren't already otherwise occupied, what with him smiling in joy. Finally relaxing for the first time that day, the saboteur laid out his plans for the evening while the tactician listened on, a very faint smile playing across his features

---- : | ----

Torches flickered brightly along the rolling coastal hillside, leading down to a sandy beach where a temporary open air auditorium stood. The evening was cool, but thankfully rain-free for the audience that was seated either along long benches, or on fold-out chairs. The pleasant strums of strings warming up for the concert lent to the light and relaxed atmosphere that wrapped around the socializing humans.

Further behind the small mass of people sat two black and white cars on the top of the hill side. The Datsun and Porsche made for a very interesting pair, but they only drew a few curious glances. That compared to the possibility of interrupting the entire event with their presence kept the two Autobots in their more inconspicuous alt modes.

The two spoke amiably about the orchestra and the selection of musical pieces. Jazz expanded on why he enjoyed this particular genre since Prowl had always (mistakenly) assumed that he preferred the more edgy, pop music that seemed to thrum near deafeningly in waves from his room.

The saboteur had to admit that he was greatly surprised at how easily Prowl had seemed to give into his invite. He had been prepared with at least three separate arguments as to why the tactician should go. The highlights being that the second needed to get out more, hey, the twins can't do much harm from the brig, and of course if all else failed, Jazz had been prepared to suck it up and beg the mech to go. All the way down to getting on his knees.

No one could ever say that he wasn't committed…or 'slightly committable' as some Autobots were starting to suspect.

"Ever been to one of these, Prowler?"

"Yes, actually."

Jazz's alt mode didn't lend itself well to facial expressions, but his stunned silence must have hinted something to the Datsun as he responded with a warm chuckle.

"I do occasionally get out of the Ark, Jazz. I simply do not choose to make a production out of it." The fact that the concert (singular) that he had attended had been a charity event put on by the Portland Police Department AND that he had been invited as the guest of honor as a thank you for his service did not need to be elaborated upon. He did, however, suspect that there were ulterior motives that the Chief had not mentioned. After all, having an Autobot in attendance at any event was practically a guaranteed way to ensure it was sold out. The quiet black and white did not complain, though. He truly did enjoy earth's classical style of music and he had only had to endure a brief Q&A session.

An immediate hush enveloped the audience as the composer made his way to the center of the orchestra. There was a brief pause of absolute silence and then they were falling over the precipice as the orchestra simply moved and the most beautiful notes played over the landscape. The soothing and wistful music reverberated through both black and whites' frames and Prowl could feel the normal tension he carried begin to release from his joints and lines.

Next to him, the sensors on his doors picked up a similar state of relaxation enveloping the saboteur. So much so it seemed that the space between their frames had almost completely diminished and the tactician could not help, but shiver at the Porsche's proximity. Jazz could be such an enigma to him at times. His mannerisms so different from his own, and yet here he was, having accepted the visored mech's offer of a completely non-work related activity. When he had agreed, a part of his processor had simply stopped at how easy it had been for him to do so.

They were here, though, and what he was to make of it, Prowl still had not decided…yet.

Jazz, on the other hand, was fairly buzzing with happiness. The Datsun had not moved when he had decided to lean into him. This could be a good or bad thing, since there was no reaction to speak of, but the saboteur ever being the optimist was going for the former. The second rarely allowed bots into his personal space and for him to seemingly accept the Porsche's intrusion was an outright miracle.

Speaking of miracles, "Primus. If ya're listening in, please don't let anythin' interrupt this." Jazz couldn't help, but pray silently. It never hurt to cover all of your bases.

As if in response to Jazz's prayer and entirely too coincidentally, one of the halogen lights that was lighting the stage decided to explode, sending sparks flying. And they flew right onto the lovely red banner that was so dashingly draped along the stage's bottom.

Oh. Joy.

The reaction was thankfully instantaneous as musicians grabbed their instruments and scrambled to get off the stage. Not exactly an organized and efficient exit, but it was effective none the less.

"We've got to help 'em." Jazz called out, immediately transforming. Prowl was only one step behind him as they both broke out running towards the stage and the now growing flames.

---- : | ----

It was late into the night when two black and white cars made their way down the Ark's dirt road, stopping just slightly short of the entrance. Both transformed into their root modes, each mech looking simply exhausted. Black soot and ash was smudged liberally over the saboteur and tactician mixing in nicely with their mostly monotone paint jobs. The paint on Jazz's servos was blistered from tearing the banner off of the stage to try to stop the fire from spreading further. Prowl's left door wing was angled slightly askew from a random beam falling onto it.

They had been able to contain the fire and keep it from spreading across the countryside until the local authorities had arrived and that was something. The fire department had been beside themselves in gratitude to the two Autobots. Both mechs had been more than happy to have helped and were thankfully able to make their escape before the media vans arrived.

The saboteur was by far the worst off, but not from the accident. At least, not directly. Feeling his shoulders slump from the weight of the universe, Jazz had no option, but to admit that maybe something or someone was really trying to tell him something. The thought of giving up the chance to be with his 'Prowler' made his spark wrench, but after all that had happened it seemed unlikely that the tactician would be accepting any further invitations from him.

"This has been quite a night."

Listlessly, Jazz found himself agreeing to the quiet voice. The saboteur found his optics drifting on their own accord to his friend. Even covered in dust and ash and who knows what, he still looked as handsome and desirable as the first time the saboteur had seen him. He never would have thought that there would be any further draw to the tactician after their initial meeting, but little by little it crept over him until the Porsche had no choice, but to accept the new feelings.

"I am beginning to think that journeying outside of the Ark with you may be hazardous to one's health." Prowl stoically intoned.

"Mm-hmm. Seems that way." Even to his own audios, the saboteur new he sounded morose, but he didn't have the energy to try disguising it. Hoping that the other mech would merely attribute it to the interrupted show, he offered the tactician a wane smile.

"Well, g'night, Prowler. I'll catch you next duty cycle."

With that last statement, Jazz turned and made his miserable escape to the Ark - his hope being to make it to his room as quickly as possible without flat out running. There he could bury himself in sad love songs until his spark stopped aching so.

A soft, fond smile lit the Datsun's face as he took in the retreating form of the other mech. He could not help, but shake his helm in amusement. The day had been an adventure and their outing another disaster, but there was no way that he could hold it against his companion.

The Porsche had just made it to the where the metal of their base overlapped the surrounding rock when he heard his name. Stopping mid-step, he turned and directed a questioning, if not slightly apprehensive look at the one who had spoken.

With deliberate steps, the Datsun made his way to the Porsche, stopping just within his personal bubble of gloom. Not knowing what to expect, Jazz felt surprise when a smudged, white hand came up to cup the side of his helm tenderly. The same smile that the saboteur had missed earlier was playing across Prowl's face.

"How about the next date we go on, we just stay in?" The tactician murmured sincerely, thumb gently brushing against the sloping line of the saboteur's cheek.

If he had been organic, Jazz was sure his optics would have popped out from behind his visor. As it was, he was having a hard time not imitating a fish with his mouth open and forming a silent 'O'. Prowl chuckled warmly before taking full advantage of the other's speechlessness, pressing his lip plates to the saboteur's and leaving no space between them. The kiss was chaste and yet so very sweet, promising much more than Jazz comprehended and yet he couldn't help, but answer.

Breaking their lip lock carefully, Prowl pressed his forehead to Jazz's as the saboteur gave him such a hopeful smile.

"You do not need to try so hard for me. You already have my spark."

Maybe there was hope for them yet.

- Fine -