Clutch 5

Author: Thalanee

Verse: various (Castle/ Castle/Pre-Movie)

Word Count: 2600 words

Warnings: crack as usual (no eating and drinking for the sake of your poor keyboard and screen ;P )

Rating: pg-13 (only implied JazzxProwl)

Disclaimer: Transformers aren't mine, I just play with them for fun. They belong to Hasbro.

Summary: In which Prowl has to deal with diffusing a bomb, nursing his partner back to health and kicking down a door, in other words just another day for our favourite cop-bot.

Author's Notes: Here are some more. The first one was another request by BluebirdSoaring. I hope you like it!

I can't even begin to describe how happy I am to finally have my life back! I really missed writing for this fandom and I sincerely hope that I won't be so busy for such a long time ever again (I guess we'll see what Murphy has to say about that though...)

Anyway thanks to all of you for your patience!

XXXXX

54 Tick-Tock:

Their remaining time diminished steadily, the numbers on the screen counting down without mercy or consideration for the two beings gathered around it.

They both stared aghast at the blinking red symbols announcing that, as of now, they had exactly two breems until obliteration. Two breems until the device would be set off by the timer. Two breems until the entire city block would be engulfed in flames and clouds of acid gas designed to eat through any metal in its path. Two breems until they would die.

Too short a time for the squad's bomb experts to arrive.

It had only been through a combination of luck, Prowl's genius and Jazz's ability to think outside the box that they had even managed to find the storage container that held the device Praxus' enforcers and the Autobot Special Forces had sought for. As a result the only bots with the training to defuse it were now scattered throughout the city, too far away to intervene.

Whoever had planned this had taken the greatest of care to ensure that nothing would interfere. Even the comm lines had been taken out so completely and thoroughly that they couldn't even let anyone know they had found the device, never mind contact anyone who could tell them what to do to stop the seemingly inevitable outcome.

"What do we do? There's gotta be something we can do, right?!" Jazz looked towards the enforcer as if waiting for confirmation, but if he had actually expected some, it would not be forthcoming, because Prowl was staring at the device as helplessly as the writer next to him.

All of Prowl's instincts, his very coding screamed at him to do something to protect the bots of his city, but there was nothing he could do. For all his skills and his tactical processors, he was useless when it came to the defusion of a bomb. He had never been trained for this, would not even know where to start. What if he made things worse?

"How can it possibly be worse?" Jazz asked. Prowl winced, unaware until then, that he had been speaking out loud. "In less than two breems this thing is gonna explode, we ain't got anything to lose, mech."

Prowl shook his head helplessly, his processors racing through hundreds of possible scenarios, and all of them ended with the two of them offlining in the explosion and taking part of the city with them, no matter what Prowl did.

Jazz knew the moment Prowl thought that all hope was lost. It made him want to scream, to grab the enforcer and hug him and never let him go, to kiss him just once… Almost surreally calm he took Prowl's hand in his, and when the doorwinger looked at him, he gave him a small smile, tightening his hold a little. Prowl kept his optics locked on Jazz's and returned the pressure. The small gesture, the look in Prowl's optics made fierce determination well up in the silver mech, overwhelming the depressive thoughts of their impending deactivation.

No way in the pit would Jazz give up!

He had not gotten to where he was right now to just stand there and wait for the inevitable, and he absolutely refused to go down without a fight, even if the odds were against him. Prowl and he would get through this together, they would live and then finally Jazz would strap some steel to his spine and let the Praxian know what he meant to him.

Giving in to his instincts he grabbed the cables.

And yanked.

Nothing.

No sound, no increase in heat, no pain. Idly he wondered if the bomb had gone off and he had died without even realizing what had happened. Jazz hardly dared onlining his visor to look (when had he offlined it anyway?), but before he could, suddenly he felt another body pressed close to his, arms surrounding his chassis. Someone's face was buried in his neck, he could feel their breath on his cables. But the only person around was…

Disbelieving, he onlined his visor, while his arms moved on autopilot and held on to the black and white enforcer clinging to him in obvious relief, white doorwings quivering.

It really was happening. Prowl was hugging him!

Alright, he had to be in the Well. There was no other explanation for this. Looking around he had to admit that the Well of All Sparks looked remarkably like one of the main streets of Praxus. The exact one they had been standing on, in fact, when he had decided to try his luck on the bomb. Out of his own volition his head swiveled to look at where the transport would be standing if this were Cybertron, and there it was.

It even held the bomb. And on the display, red numbers blinked almost innocently at him.

00:00:01.

3: Insult (Castle-Verse)

Filled with trepidation Jazz stared at his tormentor's hand closing in on his face, pain flaring when the instrument of torture it held was pressed to a wound on his forehead. "Ow!" he yowled and flinched back, unable to contain the reaction, even though he knew it would only prolong his suffering.

Relentlessly the cloth holding the disinfectant was pressed back to the wound Prowl was in the process of cleaning. "Hold still, Jazz. You are acting like a sparkling. This wound has to be cleaned properly to prevent infection."

Jazz flicked his head indignantly. "Oi, I protest, after all I got this injury in the line of duty!"

"Line of duty?" Prowl didn't have to sound so disbelieving, Jazz thought to himself. "You are not an enforcer and you were most assuredly not supposed to interfere like that."

"That guy was going ta hit ya in the head from behind and ya expect me ta sit back and watch?" Now it was Jazz's turn to sound disbelieving. He might not be trained to offline bots with his pinkie like Prowl was but he liked to think he knew a little bit of fighting. Well thanks to his research he knew where to hit. Theoretically. Bah, details.

Completely ignoring Jazz's pitiful attempts to wriggle out of the hold he had on him, Prowl continued his ministrations to the wound, eyeing it critically before deeming it sufficiently cleaned. "For your information, the situation was completely under control." Jazz just snorted. "I knew he was there and I would have taken steps to ensure that I would not be hit. May I remind you that I have mastered several martial arts…" The enforcer drifted off as he carefully placed a plasty seal over the gash to prevent an infection, all the while keeping a firm hold on his captive.

"And a load of good those would have done if ya hadn't turned in time. I wasn't going ta let anything happen ta ya." A fierce glow lit Jazz visor as he looked straight at the enforcer, ceasing his escape in favour of leaning closer. He registered how close they actually were: Jazz was pinned down in a chair by one of Prowl's legs resting right across his legs, while one of his arms was wrapped tightly around Jazz's neck (sure it was a choke hold, but still), while both of Jazz's hands rested on Prowl's waist, where he had been trying to shove the black and white and his instruments of torture away.

Prowl extracted himself from the hold as if it was perfectly natural. "My hero," he intoned, his voice perfectly dry, before he frowned at the writer's scratched chassis. The worst of the scratches were disinfected and bandaged, but still… "Maybe we should have the station medic take a look at this."

"Ya think this is bad? Ya should have seen what my face did ta the other mech's fist." Jazz grinned with badly concealed pride, puffing his plating theatrically for the other's benefit.

Prowl raised an optic ridge. "Really." He drawled.

"Yeah." His grin got even wider, as once again his mouth got the better of him when he added, "I wouldn't mind if ya want ta kiss it better though."

XXXXX

At their desks, Barricade and Bumblebee shared a snicker, when they heard a loud yelp reverberate through the bull pen.

36: Excess

Two pairs of optics looked at the door in front of them with an equal amount of disgust.

Sharing a short look, both Prowl and Barricade glared at the offending piece of metal barring their way as if they could drill holes into it, if they just glared long and hard enough.

Barricade growled in aggravation, his red optics blazing at the thought of the delay. Vital evidence they needed to finally get closer to the serial killer they hunted awaited the pair of enforcers right behind that door, they knew that. It was only a couple of hours before their suspect would commit another murder, if he stuck true to his modus operandi. They had been enforcers long enough to trust their instincts and Prowl's calculations, and both told them that this was one of the bots hide-outs.

Unfortunately though, instincts and probabilities got them nowhere with the paperwork. No one would give them a warrant based on just that. For that, they needed proof, the kind of proof behind that door.

And they were not allowed to open it.

Only if the owner invited them in, or if there was cause for immediate action (for instance, someone being murdered right inside that room).

Snarling the black mech thumped a fist against the wall in frustration. "We need to get through that door, dammit!"

"I know," Prowl replied calmly, "but regulations forbid forcible entry without a warrant, which we do not possess." Though there was nothing showing in his face and his doorwings were perfectly still, Prowl was just as frustrated as his partner.

"There's gotta be something we can do. I won't let that creep get away with another murder just because of a technicality and the fragging paperwork!" Barricade drew himself up to his full height, itching to be able to do something. The two were an unlikely pair: the one tall and with a broad, mostly black frame, the other small and deceptively slender of built, white where his partner was black. One was passionate and had quite a temperament, while the other was calm and collected. One was outspoken, the other quiet.

In spite of, or maybe because of that, they were the best team in the precinct.

At the moment though Barricade could happily have cursed his partner's insistence on following protocol. Without Prowl holding him back he would have kicked down the door almost as soon as he arrived (and got himself suspended and /or reprimanded for it, a little voice in his processor piped up, sounding suspiciously like Prowl when he was lecturing him on the importance of proper procedure).

The large mech knew protocol existed for a good reason, to protect suspects and the public in general from arbitrariness and abuse of power an enforcer had over them. Right now though that was no consolation.

Right now, he couldn't stand it. "I'm going in now." He took two steps until he stood right in front of the door.

Prowl's head snapped around as the smaller enforcer looked at him sharply, his optics narrowing. "You know we are not allowed to do that, if there is no course for immediate action."

He whirled back to the other, until he loomed over Prowl, black servos balled into fists. "There's a reason, Primus dammit! Right now that slagger is out there with another innocent bot in his servos and we both have seen what is going to happen if we don't find him soon." Barricade

"I know." Prowl's voice was quiet, steady as he looked up and met the larger mech's gaze.

Frustrated Barricade rubbed his head, cursing himself for nearly taking his anger out on his partner. No matter how irritating the doorwinger could be he was still the best partner Barricade had ever had. His previous partners had never stayed around too long, uneasy with his nature or just plain unwilling to deal with him who always skirted the edges of rules and regulations, getting dangerously close to the point of no return but never quite reaching it. It was obvious why their superiors have appointed Prowl as his new partner, when the last one had left: they hoped rule-abiding, by the book Prowl would reign him in. Barricade had first resented him for that, but he had been pleasantly surprised when things had actually worked out.

They balanced each other perfectly, and even more importantly Prowl was the first one who had actually set out to earn his friendship. They had turned from two lone wolves into the best team the precinct had ever seen. Throwing a look at Prowl, who was still regarding the door in that still way of his, Barricade shook his head at himself. His partner didn't deserve getting blamed for this mess.

How he hated inaction. He needed to do something!

Prowl cocked his head, thinking for a moment, before he suddenly spoke up. "Did you hear that?" The smaller turned and looked at his partner with an air of expectation.

Barricade frowned and looked around the deserted hallway. Had he missed something? It wouldn't be the first time Prowl's sensory panels had picked up sounds and signals he didn't notice. But there was nothing. "Hear what?"

Prowl lifted an optic ridge. "I think I just heard someone yell "Help, enforcers!"…," he explained, sounding perfectly sincere, "It would be best if we opened this door."

That was another reason he liked the smaller mech. Even with his insistence on upholding the law and regulations, he was willing to support his partner when he needed him. Barricade could always count on Prowl having his back. Playing along, Barricade cocked head for a moment as if listening intensely, then squeaked "Help enforcers." Was it his imagination, or was there a hint of a smirk on Prowl's face?

Red optics shone with mischief when Barricade continued in his normal voice, "You're right, there it was again. We should open the door and make sure that no one's hurt."

As soon as he had finished the black mech turned to the door and kicked it down in a single move, putting enough force in it that the crash reverberated through the whole building.

Taking point Prowl slipped inside, closely followed by Barricade. Smiling to himself, sure that they'd catch the perpetrator when they saw that he had left behind a whole wall filled with a timetable, a list of victims and other hideouts, Barricade reasoned that a little excess force hadn't hurt at all.

And he knew that if he overdid it, Prowl was there to give him the kick in the aft he needed. That was what friends were there for after all.

To Be Continued