This is a commissioned piece for Eerie Iri. I have to thank her, I've wanted to do something like this for awhile but never had all the right pieces. She set me up with some good prompts and I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope she likes!
Qiuck side note, I'm still new at writting Decepticons. So anything considered too out there, my apologies!
Reading and reviewing is always loved. :)
Enjoy!

"Hello" - Regular talk

Hello - Thoughts

:Hello: - bond talk

If At First You Don't Succeed...

Ironhide walked, already tired, sore, and ill tempered from the rather unsuccessful battle earlier, through Prime's office door at an obscenely late hour. He let the door slide shut before looking around at those gathered. Optimus sat quietly behind his desk. Jazz leaned against the far wall, head down, a rather somber look on his face. Ratchet, looking just as ill tempered as Ironhide felt, sat in one of two chairs in front of Prime's desk. Red Alert, back straight, optics bright, the picture of awareness, took up the remaining chair. Leaving Ironhide to simply lean back against the door, almost mirroring Jazz.

Optimus gave a weary sigh, "Now that we're all here-"

Frowning, Ironhide interrupted, "Where's Prowl?"

Silence descended, blanketing the office, settling for a moment before Red Alert huffed, "He's recharging in his quarters." The security officer threw a sharp look at the medic sitting next to him, "Sedated." The frown pulling at Red Alert's mouth was show enough of his disapproval.

"Don' go gettin' mad at Ratchet, Red, it was at my request. There's no way I kin sneak out without Prowl knowin'. Mech's a light recharger. An' as I prefer not ta lie t'em, it's best he simply not know this meetin' took place. Sides, " Jazz looked tired as he shrugged off Red Alert's pointed glare, "Prowl needs the rest."

Red Alert sneered, "He's not a youngling, Jazz. I highly doubt he needs you to take care of him like you were his Carrier-"

"Enough." Prime's voice sliced through the rising argument and Red Alert sat back in his chair with an irritated sigh. Prime's optics glanced over the officers assembled in his office before settling on his security officer, "Red Alert, neither Jazz nor Ratchet acted outside of their authority nor without my consent. I gave this much thought and I agree with Jazz that it's best if Prowl were not present at this particular meeting."

Arms crossed, Red Alert sunk low in his seat, grumbling under his breath. Ironhide vented a sigh, "Prowl's wanted at every meeting except this one. As usual, Ah'm the last one to know what the frag is goin' on."

Optimus looked up at him, optics full of apology, "My apologizes, Ironhide. We didn't want this to get out of hand. We've known for sometime that Megatron has...desired Prowl to be among his ranks. Using everything from death threats to bribery. Those tactics, predictably, failed. And now Megatron seems to have grown desperate, desperate enough that capturing Prowl has become its own objective. This was foreseeable and, at the beginning, un-troubling as his attempts didn't seem focused. They appeared as nothing more than opportunistic grabs. However, as of late, Megatron has stepped up his efforts. He's not only targeting Prowl more frequently in battles, he also seems to be using these battles as a distraction."

Ironhide's frown deepened, "What?"

"Today, while we were on the front line battling Megatron, Soundwave and his cassetticons worked together to lock Red Alert out of the security system, allowing two of the Combaticons to slip into the Ark. Due to recent injuries, Prowl couldn't be on the battle field, so he was in the Control Room communicating directly with me when we got disconnected."

Red Alert turned and looked up at Ironhide, picking up the story where Optimus left off, "They went straight for the Control Room, didn't even break the door down, they had the codes. Not all together surprising given the amount of spying Soundwave's cassettes do. They went right for Prowl. It was through sheer luck I got the system unlocked, saw what was happening and had Inferno intercept them. If not for that, we'd be putting together a rescue mission right now."

Optimus vented a weary sigh and shook his head, "These are bold moves on Megatron's part. And I shudder to think what would happen to Prowl should he fall into Megatron's hands."

Ironhide shifted uneasily against the door, those thoughts unsettling, "Ah understand that. But why not include Prowl in this meeting? Surely it'd be important he know about this."

"He's aware, he knows." Jazz's voice was soft as he looked up, "But Prowl's a proud mech and would fight any suggestion or notion of 'special treatment' tooth n' nail. Doesn't want anyone worrin' 'bout him. Doesn't want anyone protectin' him. Ya know how he is. He'd rather protect than be protected."

Red Alert nodded and Ratchet looked at the floor. No one could argue with that, they knew it to be true. Ironhide looked back to Optimus, "So, what is it yer wanting us to do if ya know Prowl's just goin' ta protest it anyway?"

Optimus leaned forward on his desk as he addressed them, "Nothing out right, nothing obvious, specially not to Prowl. I wanted all of you to be aware of this situation and the danger he's in. I want everyone here to watch out for him with more diligence. I want everyone keeping an optic on him during battles. Don't let Prowl get separated from the group. Don't let any Cons get near him if at all possible. Always keep in mind, always remember, that Prowl is now the target."

Megatron sat in his throne chair, mood dark, looking sternly at the select group of mechs gathered in the room before him. His lead trine of seekers, Starscream standing in the forefront, his trine mates flanking him. The Combaticons stood spread out behind them with Soundwave standing stoically off to the side.

The silence in the room stretched out, took on weight, began to feel oppressive as their leader looked them over, scrutinizing, finally prompting Starscream to speak up, "We almost got him."

"We almost got him." Megatron repeated quietly, sharp crimson optics coming to rest on his Air Commander, "More words than necessary for 'failure', Starscream."

The seeker's gaze dropped to the floor. A few others shifted uneasily. Megatron directed his heated glare to the Combaticons gathered, "You had him. You had him!" He slammed a fist down against the arm rest, the harsh sound reverberating around the room causing a few to flinch at his barely contained anger. "You had a clear path, in and out. You had the codes. You were in their Control Room. He was right there! What. Went. Wrong?" Megatron ground out the words as he stared them down.

"Combaticons: Not at fault."

Megatron torn his gaze from the Combaticons, shifting it's heat to Soundwave, "And why is that?"

"Combaticons: followed mission plan exactly. Red Alert: unlocked security system quicker than anticipated. Arranged for Combaticons to be intercepted. Failure: unavoidable."

Megatron vented a harsh breath, optics narrowing at his Communications Officer, "Really? Red Alert's that good?"

"Negative."

"Oh?" His optics blazed with anger, "Then why?"

Soundwave paused, as if searching for a suitable answer that might amend this situation. Or a worthy explanation to at least soothe his riled leader. He found neither. Soundwave simply gave a minute shrug, "Luck."

"Luck." Megatron parroted back, intense gaze never leaving Soundwave's visor, "Luck?"

Soundwave nodded.

"Luck," Megatron sneered the word as he turned away, "Well, if there's one thing the Autobots do have in abundance, it is that." He paused, settling back in his chair again. Bringing up one tightly curled fist, his fingers unfurling to reveal a data chip held protectively in the palm of his hand. He looked at it for a long moment before venting an irritated sigh. His arm stretched out, palm flat as he held the chip out to Soundwave, who stepped forward to carefully retrieve it.

Megatron maintained his frown, this recent failure, after so much careful planning, soured any good mood he might of have over the fair amount of dents they had knocked into the Autobots, "We will try again."

"When?"

Megatron turned his attention to the owner of that cultured voice, "Soon, Onslaught. Right now, we have information that must be carefully processed." He nodded to Soundwave who gave a bow before turning to leave, data chip in hand. Regarding the rest with an air of distaste, Megatron waved a hand absently, "Dismissed."

Prowl flattened himself against the canyon wall, arms raised protectively over his helm to shield himself from the cascade of falling rocks, courtesy of a few stray missiles. He peered through the grit and dust that thicken and swirled in the air. Not another Autobot in sight, not that he could see. He was alone. Where was everyone? What were their positions? His comm lines hissed static and his scanners, long and short range, were useless with Soundwave having placed jamming frequencies in the area, so he couldn't pinpoint anyone.

No matter, he knew to keep moving, to keep going. Lurching forward, he coughed as the thick dust caught in his vents. He broke into a run, stumbling over loose rocks. One hand ran along the rough surface of the canyon wall, steadying him, using it as a guide.

He couldn't lag, timing was critical. He needed to get to the rendezvous point. That was the most important thing, above all else, get to the rendezvous point.

The canyon wall suddenly dipped in, giving way to empty space. He stumbled, momentarily losing his balance, his footing, as he pitched to the side. The momentum of which carried him almost directly into the large dark hand that suddenly darted out from the swirling dust. Thick, strong fingers encircled his throat, pulling him forward, further off balance, before swinging him around, lifting him up, and slamming his back against the wall. Vents wheezed at the impact, doorwings scrapped against the jagged surface.

Prowl's hands came up instantly, one of his arms nearly wrapped around the large forearm for leverage, while his other hand worked at prying the fingers from his throat, a uselessly endeavor. His captor eased closer. A low, rumbling chuckle emanated from the larger mech's throat, filtering through the thick air. The sound rolled over Prowl's audios, freezing his feeble attempt at freedom. He knew that laugh. Would know it anywhere.

Blue optics rose to take in the larger frame that held him to the wall. The teal and green plating. The gleam of an orange visor that rested above a battle mask. The leader of the Combaticons. Onslaught.

Prowl didn't need to see behind the protective mask to know Onslaught was grinning. There was a gloating, triumphant air to him as he leaned in, optics brightening behind the visor causing it to glow as he spoke in low tones, "How very careless of you, Prowl. If you were an Autobot, you'd be dead right now."

The sides of Prowl's mouth quirked up into a small grin, "Good thing I'm not an Autobot."

Onslaught chuckled, leaning forward, pressing their chest plates together, "Indeed." He brought up his other arm, forearm coming to rest just above Prowl's helm, fingers reaching down to carefully stroke the edge of his chevron. Dark grey sliding along bright red.

Bright blue optics darkened, hooded, a moan building in Prowl's throat as he leaned his helm into the touch. Onslaught's battle mask slid aside, a smirk still pulling at his lips as he leaned in, claiming Prowl's mouth. Lips parted, Prowl moaned into the invasion, eager to taste, eager to be tasted. His free hand moved in a frenzied motion over teal armor, searching, wanting some angle, some curve he could clutch at as Onslaught pulled, just slightly, away.

Onslaught laughed softly against Prowl's lips, "It's been a long time."

"Too long." Prowl panted, needy, squirming against the larger chest plate pinning him to the canyon wall.

Smiling, Onslaught nipped at Prowl's lips before tilting his head up to blow a gust of air teasingly along one side of the chevron. Prowl whined as Onslaught's larger body leaned into him, shivering when he felt the ghosting of lips against the sensitive red metal, the gentle bite of dentea. He groaned, blue optics flickering, shuttering closed in response. Onslaught gave another rich throatily laugh, "You shouldn't be this needy. You've had your little Autobot toy to keep you company."

Prowl shook his head, fingers clutching at teal plating, "A poor substitute." White helm tilted up as much as allowed. Lips parted, offering, demanding more. Onslaught smirked, dipping his helm so his lips lightly brushed across Prowl's teasingly before crushing his mouth against Prowl's with an almost bruising hunger.

It was pure passionate indulgence and despite having engaged in it, stoked its fires, Prowl knew he needed to call an end to it before it completely consumed any and all sense he had. He still needed to reach the rendezvous point. Still needed to be "captured" by the Decepticons. Once he was on the Nemesis, secreted away deep inside the labyrinth of corridors where the Autobots would never find him, then...then they could indulge.

With a regretful groan, Prowl turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss, "Don't think I'm ungrateful for the…attention, but I need to make the rendezvous point-" Lips caressed up to his audios, "Already made rendezvous point," Onslaught murmured thickly.

Prowl frowned, "What? I thought-"

"Change of plans. Thundercracker and Skywarp can't seem to shake the twins. So, we went to Plan B."

Blue optics stared into red one's behind the visor, "Plan B? I wasn't aware there was a Plan B. Do tell."

Onslaught smirked again, "Plan B: If you can not make rendezvous point, bring rendezvous point to you. That would now be myself and Blast Off."

"Seems unnecessarily risky. We could be caught. Why rush this?"

"Lord Megatron wants you back. He'd prefer sooner to later."

"At the possible expense of blowing all cover? Undoing millions of vorns of work. They uncover me and they'll turn a microscope onto each crew member, here and on Cybertron. Placing other agents at risk of being exsposed. Ridiculous."

Onslaught's smirk grew, "Well, if Plan B works you can tell our glorious leader that in person."

That frown persisted, "I shall." Prowl looked up and around them, peering through the dissipating dust, "When is Blast Off to arrive?"

Onslaught looked up as well, "Should be any time now. Soundwave still has those jammers in place so no radio contact. But Blast Off is to notify me through the bond if anything goes wrong-"

:Onslaught:

Onslaught frowned at the tone, the feeling Blast Off was sending through. Not a good sign.

:What is it?:

:Plan B has to be abandoned. Autobots are closing in on the canyon where you two are at:

Onslaught stepped away from Prowl, even as he still held him to the canyon wall.

"What is it?" Prowl eyed Onslaught's tensing frame.

:No! Do not abandon the plan. Get here, now!:

:Can't. The Aerials won't let anything with wings or a set of rotors near the canyon. Any Con with the ability to fly is being concentrated on. They know, Boss, they know.:

Prowl's frown deepened as Onslaught's battle mask slid back into place. The large mech seethed, anger coming off in waves as he slammed his fist into the canyon wall beside Prowl's helm. Blue optics stared at the fist level with his head, then traveled up the teal plated arm, shifting to look into the optics beyond the orange visor, "Let me guess-"

"PROWL!"

Prowl's head jerked up. The yell having come from somewhere high up behind Onslaught.

"PROWL! HANG ON!"

That was Jazz...and several others from the sound of it. Prowl swore under his breath as he leaned his helm back against the canyon wall, "You've got to be fraggin kidding me! How do they keep finding me?"

Onslaught growled, "I don't know but they have the Aerials and their firepower trained on all the fliers. Which means…"

"Back to the Ark I go." Prowl nodded, shifting as he opened his subspace to pull out a data chip. The fall back. If a successful "capture" can not be achieved, the least he could do was provide plenty of information for Megatron. He placed it carefully in Onslaught's palm as he drew his fist back, placing the small chip in his own subspace pocket.

"Tell Megatron I'm sorry," Prowl sighed, "But not to rush this. As much as I want to return, the benefits of this endeavor outweigh a speedy exit that can lead the Autobots to start asking questions." Onslaught nodded, "I'll tell him."

They could both hear the approach of Autobots. Footfalls falling hard, rushing toward them on the canyon floor.

Onslaught drew back his arm, an apology shining in his optics. Prowl gave the slightest of smiles, "Make it look good." Onslaught nodded, fingers curling into a fist, "Always do."

Prowl limbed out of Med Bay despite Ratchet's attempts to convince him to stay for overnight observation. He used his usual excuse of being able to get a more restful recharge in his own berth instead of a fitful recharge in a foreign feeling med berth. It was, for the most part, true.

He'd only gotten a few steps when he heard someone jogging down the hall toward him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Prowler! Hold on, wait up." Jazz came up next to him, one arm quickly, carefully, wrapping around his waist, securing him to the saboteur's side, steadying him. Prowl, too sore and tired to really scowl, simply looked at Jazz, "I thought you were on duty."

They started walking slowly together, toward Prowl's quarters. Jazz shrugged, "Yeah. But Ratchet commed me and told me you weren't stayin' in Med Bay and were on your way out. Thought I'd come lend a hand, help ya out. No worries, I got someone else ta cover my shift."

Prowl let a small smile tug his lips up as he looked at Jazz, "Normally, I'd object but thank you, I'm grateful. You help me in…..so many ways, Jazz."

Jazz gave him a dazzling smile before bringing them to a stop in front of Prowl's quarters. Jazz punched in the door code, "Anything for you, Prowler." Prowl gave a breathy laugh, letting one hand slide gently over Jazz's back, even though he wouldn't meet Jazz's optics, "Thank you."

Aiding him those last few steps, Jazz helped ease him onto the berth. Even winching when Prowl gave a groan of pain as he rolled onto his side and stretched out, facing the wall. He heard Jazz walk back over to the door and lock it. Then the lights went out and Prowl shuttered his optics. He could hear Jazz walk softly back to him. Felt the berth give a little as Jazz sank down on it's surface and stretched out next to him.

Jazz eased himself slowly next to Prowl, taking care not to jostle doorwings or press against sore spots. Wrapped his arms around him, a knee coming to rest on top of Prowl's thigh, Jazz buried his face in the back of Prowl's neck.

With his optics off and darkness blanketing them, Prowl let his imagination take over. The arms wrapped around him, the warm body pressed against his own changed, became larger. Black and white were replaced with teal and green, the blue visor was now orange. Prowl sighed, relaxing into the fantasies arms. Wanting the proximately, the intimacy, craving the touch and not just...using it as a means to an end but genuinely enjoying it.

Onslaught...

He sighed and let the fantasy play.

It wasn't words the pulled him from his private world but the grip Jazz had on him as it gradually increased in intensity, tipping towards pain. Optics powering on, Prowl glanced over his shoulder, "Jazz?"

The grip increased causing him to hiss in pain. That got Jazz's attention and the pressure immediately lessened, "I'm…I'm sorry, Prowl. I just…."

"What's wrong?"

Jazz pressed his face into Prowl's neck more, the gesture comfort seeking, "Too close."

Prowl frowned, "Too close?"

Jazz nodded against him, "Today was too close."

Prowl ran a hand along Jazz's arm soothingly, "Jazz-"

"They almost got you," Jazz let out a shaking breath, his grip tightening again to the point of pain, "Primus, Prowl, Onslaught nearly beat you into stasis. He probably woulda tried to drag ya off too if we'd hadn't found you in time."

Prowl reached up, slowly, groaning slightly at the strain, to gently caress fingers against the back of Jazz's helm, attempting to sooth. "But he didn't. You, all of you, stopped that from happening. Put it from your mind, Jazz. There's no point in dwelling on what could have been. Not now, anyway."

Bringing his arm down, Prowl let his fingers trace along Jazz's arm till he found Jazz's hand, white fingers lacing through black ones. In the dark, in his minds eye, they were gray...

Jazz nodded against his neck, snuggling closer, and with one last sigh his systems slowed as he fell into recharge. Prowl lay on line a little longer. The fantasy coming to the forefront of his mind once more. The warmth of the chest plate against his back, the secure circle of arms around him, the soothing sound of vents quietly cycling in recharge. When he focused it all just right, it was...Onslaught.

Megatron would contact him soon enough through one of Soundwave's cassetticons. A new plan. And, hopefully this next time, it would work.

His systems cycled down as he slid toward recharge.

Next time...

Megatron sat at the head of the table in a small secluded room. Starscream to his left, Soundwave to his right, Onslaught sat next to Starscream. Thundercracker and Skywarp, along with Blast Off and Vortex, were still in Med Bay and there was no reason for the rest of the Combaticons to be present at this time. Which was just as well since the room couldn't hold too many mechs but it was safe and free from any Autobot bugs.

He'd been quiet as Onslaught recounted the events in the canyon, most of the events in the canyon anyway, there were somethings he had no desire to have described to him, and relayed what Prowl had said.

Nodding, Megatron spoke quietly, "Yes, yes...he's right."

Starscream, on the other hand, leaned forward on the table and gave a loud dramatic sigh, "Right or not, this is taking too slagging long! At this rate, it'll be another million vorns before I'm able to return to my research or my labs."

Megatron smirked, "And here I thought you were enjoying your role as my openly traitorous Second in Command."

The seeker gave an indignant huff, "Why the Autobots continue to believe you'd keep a mech around that does nothing but constantly try to over throw you, the Second in Command no less, is beyond me."

"Autobots: don't like to involve themselves in the domestic issues of Deceptircons. Benefit: ours. Visible in fighting and unstable rank structure have Autobots believing Decepticons are not united. Gives them false security. Keeps Autobots from knowing the truth."

Starscream straightened at Soundwave's explanation, "Whatever." He turned to Megatron, "Are we done here?"

Megatron nodded, "Yes. For now."

"Good," Standing, Starscream gathered the few data pads he'd brought with him, "Now if you'll excuse me, Megatron, I have an overly transparent scheme to over throw you that needs plotting out."

Megatron smirked, chuckling, "I look forward to it as always, Starscream."

Starscream walked briskly out, no doubt heading to Med Bay to see about collecting his trine mates. Both Soundwave and Megatron stood, Soundwave once again giving Megatron a formal short bow before departing, new data chip already in hand. Their leader lingered, walking slowly by Onslaught, who still remained seated, looking down at the data pad on the table in front of him. Megatron reached out, hand coming to rest on Onslaught's shoulder, "We'll get him next time."

Onslaught silently nodded, the hand on his shoulder giving a gentle squeeze, then his leader slipped from the room, leaving him to his thoughts.

Next time...