wildernesstales | TF: Mischief… not Managed (Reply)

Series: G1
Rating: G
Pairings: Prowl/Jazz, Red Alert/Inferno
Summary: Jazz finds out that sparkling sitting is harder than he thought it might be.
Warnings: Fluff
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Author's Notes: Written for vejiraziel by request over here. Flare Up (in sparkling form) is the creation of vejiraziel and has been borrowed for this story.
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.

“I don’t care what you say, we are not having one.” Prowl stood watching Jazz and the small sparkling. Both were a complete mess, covered in energon and paint and Primus-knows what else.
“But Prowler…”
“But nothing. Look at the mess you’ve both created.” Both mech and sparkling pouted. The sparkling’s lower lip wobbled and Prowl fought against crouching down and apologising. The sparkling needed discipline. Primus only knew that Inferno didn’t provide it, and Red Alert was still working long shifts in his misguided attempt to catch up.
However, all his attempts at being the disciplinarian disappeared as soon as the sparkling starting crying, optics scrunched up as she wailed. Jazz winced, turning down the volume on his audios slightly before attempting to calm the sparkling down.
“C’mon now Flare, he were just joking.” The sparkling just turned large blue optics on him and Jazz found himself helpless. “I can see why Inferno can’t discipline her…” He muttered. Prowl nodded, agreeing completely. And also understanding the reason why Red Alert spent so much time away from his own sparkling. Relenting, he crouched down, looking Flare Up in the optics.
“I think we need to get you clean young lady.” He smiled at her. Flare Up stopped crying and stared at him.
“Don’t smile Prowler, you’ll scare the kid.” Jazz grinned. Prowl shot Jazz an unreadable look before picking Flare Up up and heading towards their washracks.
“For that, you can clean up the mess you two made.” He called over his shoulder. Flare Up giggled.

It was several long hours later that Inferno dropped by to pick his sparkling up. He’d just returned from patrol and his first stop was Prowl and Jazz’s quarters to pick his daughter up. (His second stop would be the security office to drag Red Alert back to their quarters.)
“Frag, but I’m glad that’s over…” Jazz slumped on the couch in their room, vocaliser a little staticky. Once Flare Up had discovered he could sing, she demanded that he sung her to sleep. Only she wouldn’t go to sleep.
“Still want a sparkling Jazz?” Prowl handed him a small cube of high-grade.
“No. Wait, this was all yer plan, weren’t it?”
“Perhaps. I just thought it logical for you to see what was involved.”
“Man, I don’t envy Inferno and Red any more, that’s fer certain."