It had all been going perfectly, the few hitches that had cropped up having been planned for and all the supplies having arrived on time. Sideswipe and Jazz would be extremely unhappy to know that they could be so predictable, but the effort he had put into those calculations was paying off as he surveyed the rec room where he was overseeing the decorating. Prowl knew, from Sunstreaker, that Sideswipe was full of ire as he had not been scheduled for duty that day and had been looking forward to implementing the plans he and the saboteur had come up with between them. Jazz would have to learn not to leave any kind of plans in plain view in their quarters if he did not want to keep dealing with the irate frontliner and if he wanted to keep things secret from him.

The golden frontliner stopped next to him with a conspiratorial smirk before crossing his arms and surveying the changes that had taken place. "It's a lot more tastefully done than the last several decades' have been," he commented after a long moment.

"That does not say much, really," Prowl observed, glancing at the larger mech as he turned back to the stacking of the high grade that was going to be available later. "I do believe that Sideswipe takes a great deal of satisfaction in confounding me with the gaudiness."

He snorted at the statement, finding himself nodding in agreement. "Are you still planning on that performance later?"

"I am," the tactician confirmed, placing the last of the cubes that had been in his subspace on the table.

"Then we have to fix your paint!" Sunstreaker determined, pulling the Datsun along with him by his doorwing, through the halls to the wash racks. "It's not suitable for what you're planning by any stretch of the imagination."

"But I was supposed to meet him at the entrance when he comes back!"

"Prime's already on it and Blaster's going to help him keep your mech busy. However, if Sideswipe's still being kept out of it, you are going to have to cooperate since he's my responsibility."

With a heavy sigh at odds with the light smile on his face, he allowed the artist to work his magic with paint. Meanwhile, he fielded a frustrated comm. call from Jazz asking what in frag was up with everyone needing him for something and why half of them were for things that he normally took care of. The rant was rather long and protracted as the Porsche repeated himself a number of times in varying ways and with increasing profanity as time passed and he was unable to achieve his goal.

About the time that Jazz began his 182nd rephrasing of his complaint, Sunstreaker stepped back and pronounced, "You're done. Everything's dry. Do not let anything scratch it until after you complete your objective." With a grimace in response to something his brother said over their bond, he stored all of his supplies in subspace. "I'm heading off Sideswipe. Get going to your office."

He chuckled lightly. "Let me know if you need back-up with your brother. I can dispatch Ironhide if you deem it necessary." With that done, he moved off and towards his room instead of the suggested destination as he knew that the Third would go looking for him there and, with his new finish, he did not wish to give away anything to the observant mech.

Prowl input his code and slipped inside his little used room – he had been using Jazz's for the past decades – and carefully laid down on the berth with a data pad he had been meaning to read for years. Recharge claimed him several chapters in.

The party was in full swing by the time he arrived, slipping in to conceal his presence so as to not give away his intentions. The fact that his mech was not out on the dance floor was worrying, but would work out better for his plans as he had no wish to display still-developing dancing skills. As the song playing drew to a close, he pinged Blaster an agreed upon code and loosely wrapped his arms around Jazz's neck. That blue visor brightened in surprise before a truly happy smile crossed his lips.

Prowl placed a finger on those tempting lips to keep him from speaking as the lyrics to the song he had chosen began, his voice joining Jason Derulo's in expressing what he felt and wanted, though he did change a few of the words to make it more applicable to them as mechs.

As the song drew to a close, he knelt in front of his lover. "Will you do me the honor, Jazz?"

The, by now, sky blue visor was locked on his face and the saboteur was silent for a long moment – long enough to almost make the tactician shift in embarrassment and disappointment. His worries were for naught as the other black and white pulled the doorwinger into a close hug before laying a relatively messy kiss on unresisting lips. "Yes, Prowler! Ah will bond wit' ya!"

Applause rose through the room as the Autobots began celebrating again, high grade being quickly passed into waiting hands and mecha returning to their dances as the music changed again. Mecha drifted over to them – sometimes alone, sometimes in small groups – and personally congratulated them on their decision. After Prowl deemed an appropriate amount of time to have passed after everyone finished stopping by, he encouraged Jazz up from his lap and slowly led him from the rec room. The saboteur stopped him for a moment just a short way down the hall to press a heated kiss to the doorwinger's quite willing lips.

He then grabbed a white hand and pulled him through the maze of corridors and into the room they shared. "Gotta say, Prowlah, ya realleh know how ta surprise meh. Ah guess that's why ya kept meh 'way from base and tha rec room?"

"Yes, Jazz," he replied easily, relaxing back onto the couch that they had somehow obtained. He never thought about it as it tended to make him crash. "Though I did have some help."

"Realleh good choice in song ya made too. Ya get Blastah ta help ya choose 'Marry Me'?"

He chuckled, pulling the Polyhexian down onto his lap again, and kissed soft lips that eagerly responded to his. Between kisses, Prowl murmured, "Surprisingly, no. Was surfing YouTube. Found it. Thought it'd be perfect."

"That it was," he purred as white fingers stroked his horns, tucking his black helm under Prowl's and listening to the spark that was now his. "Ah love ya."

"And I you. Happy Valentine's Day, Jazz."