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Title: A cup of energon a day keeps us all safe
Warnings/Content Advice: None
Rating: G
Continuity: G1
Characters: Jazz, Prowl (Jazz/Prowl)
Disclaimer: Not mine
Prompt #1 Scenario: Someone needs his daily ration of the energon equivalent of coffee.

To almost all of the Autobots Jazz was happy, bouncy, and full of nearly unbridled energy. It was rare to see him in a foul mood, and even rarer to see him dragging. Yes, he was capable of anger, but that was so rarely directed at the other Autobots that there were several who were always shocked when the head of Special Operations lashed out with his words and actions. Of course there were a small handful of Autobots who knew Jazz better, and of those, none knew him better than Prowl - his oldest friend and bond-mate.

The day was still very early - the summer sun had not yet risen outside and the early shift had not yet begun - and yet, Jazz's alarm was buzzing.

"Why in the name of the pit do I set these damned things so early?" he muttered darkly as he ordered the alarm off. "And how is it that you're already up?"

Prowl schooled his features to avoid laughing at his mate as Jazz glared at him. This was always the routine on these early mornings, and while it had initially surprised Prowl, after hundreds of vorn he was more than used to it now. Without a word he held out a cube of energon to his mate.

"Mid grade with a dash of rust stick shavings and a splash of crystalline dust," Prowl said mildly.

Jazz's glare softened as he took the energon, sighing softly with the first sip.

"You're always ready for these morning moods, aren't you?" he asked after a moment, placing a gently kiss on Prowl's lips. "And you're the only one who's ever gotten the mix right."

Prowl shrugged his door slightly. "I paid attention. And I wouldn't wish your pre-energon temper on even our enemies," he added with an amused little smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Title: Distractions
Warnings/Content Advice: Mentions of interrogation, implications of future torture
Rating: T
Continuity: G1
Characters: Smokescreen, Soundwave, Megatron
Disclaimer: Not mine
Prompt #2 Headache

Smokescreen lay back on the berth and covered his optics with one hand. His processor was aching with the built up warnings that he had ignored but not dismissed the night before. His energon levels were reading as dangerously low and his body ached from the interrogation he had received. It was amazing that a telepathic scan would result in a physical reaction, but there it was. Soundwave may as well have beaten him; the results would have been the same.

"... proves to be more difficult than anticipated. The Autobot managed to block every attempt, but he is wearing down and will respond appropriately in short order."

"And how long will this take?"

"Anticipated results in three Earth hours."

"Fine. Do it. You have two hours and then we give Vortex a go at him. I want everything out of him before we more on to the next phase of the operation."

Smokescreen recognized both Soundwave and Megatron's voices and he steeled himself for the coming assault. He had already deleted all of his files, including his patient records, so there was nothing for the Decepticons to get, but if he was able to hold out a little longer, he might be able to gain some much needed information from them. He just needed to hold out until the cavalry arrived.

After all, all this was a distraction to give the Autobots time to move in, and distractions were Smokescreen's specialty. Pity this one had to come with a splitting headache.

Title: Rush of the storm
Warnings/Content Advice: Plug and play, Spark play
Rating: R
Continuity: G1
Characters: Silverbolt, Trailbreaker (Silverbolt/Trailbreaker)
Disclaimer: Not mine
Prompt #3 Setting: in a thunderstorm

Silverbolt pressed Trailbreaker against the wall of the canyon, kissing him with needy, demanding passion. All around them the storm raged and Silverbolt thrilled every time a bolt of lightning crashed across the sky. The energies were rising up between the mechs and between the flyer and the sky, and it was all Trailbreaker could do to keep up. Yes, he would likely regret this in the morning, but right now, in this moment, he was lost, tumbling at every pulse of Silverbolt's spark.

"Please ..." he whispered feverishly. "Primus, Sil! Please!"

Silverbolt chuckled slightly as he ran a finger over Trailbreaker's panel, allowing a static discharge to jump from his hands into the dark mech.

"I love it when I can reduce you to begging," Silverbolt whispered into the older mech's audio.

Trailbreaker's port cover opened and he keened in desire as static-filled fingers traced over his port and cable.

"Beg for me. Scream for me," Silverbolt growled as he plugged his cable home and impaled his lover with a swirl of raw spark energy.

Trailbreaker fell, arching into the energy and the order, completely losing himself to his young lover's power.


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