Chapter Text
-- Livin´ La Vida Loca --
"Her lips are devil red And her skin's the color mocha"
Eyes open wide in terror, looking straight into the blue mirror tinted glass covering a pair of eyes they never got to see. Mouth opened wide, trying, in vain, to suck in more air. Their vision blurred, staring blankly into the nearly emotionless face before them, a wild contrast to that charming playful smile that won their interest throughout the night. They were dying and they knew it , and not a soul would know about it . E ven their associates wouldn't notice their absence for a few weeks , at which point they would just assume they disappeared or died to the nature of their own products. Not a single way to warn anyone else about the beauty straddling their lap while choking them to death. The struggle ended, finally, and the world went dark.
"It's done."
"The cleaning crew is coming in three minutes. I'm at the point of rendezvous."
Heaving a sigh to clear out her mind, she climbed off her target's lap and looked around the room. Said room looked like it had been prepared for the kind of parties she had heard about in college a few years back. The kind she avoided like a plague. Her lips pulled into a grimace of disgust at the syringes at the ready, powders and vials of all kinds of substances. Really, her target would make it too easy for the cleaning crew this time. She was tired, sweaty , and ready for a shower and a long night of sleep.
She grabbed a long brown coat with thick , creamy fur and put it on, coming out of the room through an open window. She didn't feel like chatting up the cleaning crew if she met them halfway. Today had been particularly busy at the club , and getting the attention of her target required more work than they were worth , so she was not in the mood for chit chat. She reached a nondescript black car and got i nto the backseat. She said nothing but looked back at the pair of blue eyes looking at her in the mirror. "I'm fine, just tired. Jerks kept comin' at me when I was tryin' to make contact."
"Your performance was as successful as ever, then."
The car's engine purred into life as she secured her seatbelt and the man i n the driver's seat turned his attention to the road ahead.
"Yeah , but today was busier than ever. I think that jackass was roundin' up a couple of deals. Caught one of the girls at the back room hidin' away some dust for later use at home , I guess." Her voice held a mixture of boredom and sadness. "She ain't gonna live long if she keeps at it with that habit…"
"Do you like her?"
"Not really . W e barely exchange words , but I still feel sad knowing she's increasing her intake. That pack was twice the size I last saw 'er with , so either she's takin' it more often, sharin' , or she's dealin' now." She took the blue visor off and pocketed into the bag of her coat, looking at the streets they passed by through the window. "Summer sucks for this kinda job . I need a long bath. What's my shift tomorrow?"
"You are off tomorrow and the day after."
"So, can I go visit mom tomorrow?" She asked hopefully . T his past month had been very busy for her , and she could only manage a few texts and a call to her mother to check on her and how she was doing.
"I will make sure you won't be interrupted. Should I make any preparations in advance? A reservation to her favorite place perhaps?"
The woman couldn't help a small smile at the thought. It had been a while since she had been able to go to her mom's favorite restaurant. She reme m bered th e time they couldn't get a place because it was crowded. The restaurant used to be a small place where her mother would take her as a reward for just about anything , but it had grown to become a really popular place where sometimes the only way to get a seat was with a reservation.
When she confided their disappointment, the man i n the driver's seat called her the next day, having arranged a reservation for that day. And going forward, he ensured any places she wanted to go to with her mother would be booked in advance. "Yes, please. That would be great!"
"I will make the preparations. Your card should have plenty of funds for a shopping trip as well."
"Thanks. Do you know anything about mom's visit to the medic?"
"Got her medical report this morning. She is doing well and has made a full recovery from her recent flu." As the man kept reciting the status of her mother's health, the woman i n the backseat let out a small sigh. It was worth it. This was all worth it so her mother could get the care she desperately needed when she first signed off her life to the agency.
All the proverbial and literal blood on her hands was worth it so her mother could live a comfortable life after so many sacrifices had put a huge dent i n her health in many aspects. The agency took care of anything she needed : housing, expert medical care, protective services keeping an eye on her. It was worth it.
The black car stopped by the doors of her block. The man i n the driver's seat reached to her with a small container opened. "Get some rest, call your mother in the morning , and let me know what's your preferred time for the restaurant."
The woman r e ached for the earpiece in her ear and deposited it in the offered container. "Will do. Thanks, Prowl."
The man nodded as he put the container away. "Don't drink too much coffee before you tuck in. Sleep well, Jazz."
—-
Jazz heaved a sigh as she crossed the threshold of her door, instinctively reaching for the light switch to turn the lights on. She dropped her purse on the little table near the door as she locked it and headed for the bedroom. She debated whether she was too tired to just get a quick shower or take the time to soak in a longer bath in her tub. She tossed her coat carelessly on the bed and kicked off her heels as she made it to the bathroom.
The club had been ridiculously busy, and she had entertained several patrons before she could have a chance to get to her target. The number of people on a hot summer night only made the club hotter and stickier and the stage even more challenging to work , but that didn't stop her from putting up a hell of a performance. It was a miracle her makeup withstood this long.
After cleaning off the makeup, she shed the tight shorts and carefully slipped out of the stockings. She was glad she had several pairs at the ready because she didn't think any amount of washing would get these anywhere near clean enough to wear them again. She tossed the stockings into the trash bin and reached to fill her tub. She was tired , but she deserved a nice hot bath to soothe her muscles after the long day.
After undressing and setting her clothes in the separate clothes bin she used for her clubbing outfits, she slipped into the tub with a long sigh of contentment and pondered a quick meal before tucking in . She looked forward to calling her mom in the morning and arranging to spend the day together so they could catch up and she could just have fun with her only family.
She could remember the day Ironhide came into her life and changed it forever. She didn't regret what she'd agreed to do. He came to a young woman trying to help out her sick mother when barely enrolled in college. He and the agency gave her the means to provide a comfortable life for her mom. Her official job was at Macaddam's the lounge and bar , a place the wealthy and famous would go to hang around and have a good time. Unlike the clubs she worked at to find her targets or help gather intel, Maccadam's was a place where she could have fun brewing and concocting beverages to the delight of the rich. Little did they know Maccadam was, in fact, a retired member of the agency , and the wealthy clientele were helping fund the efforts of the agency to keep the peace going.
A few years ago, before she was born, Iacon and Kaon had been locked in a drawn out war. It ended with a tenuous peace treaty only a few years into her childhood. That was, according to her mother, the event that took the life of the father she never met. But that peace hung on a very delicate thread , and when she was recruited by the agency, she learned several actors i n both Iacon and Kaon were trying to reignite that war for the sake of personal gain or extreme ideology.
The agency was created specifically to seek and eliminate anyone who sought to aid in that effort. She wouldn’t let the sacrifices of people like her father go to waste , and if it allowed her to have her mother cared for , she didn't have to think too long before she'd accepted the offer. After her bath, a nice meal , and half an hour of tv, she tucked in, exhausted and ready for the break to spend the day with her mom and enjoy a normal life for a while.
____________
"You have been awfully busy these past couple of weeks."
Jazz smiled sheepishly to her mother as they ate their meal at their favorite restaurant. "Yeah, it's been awfully busy these days. The big names are droppin' every other day in big numbers. We got the place fully booked for gatherings all month long and even next month is looking like we'll be busy." She put her hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please bear with me, mom. Y'know I love hanging 'round with you so much , but work is work."
Her mother waved her hand dismissively and sighed. "Oh, I know. Just try to call me more often. Texts are nice and all , but I like to hear your voice more often." She pointed her fork at her daughter and raised an eyebrow. "So when are you going to bring that boyfriend of yours along?"
Jazz clamped down on her fork with an exaggerated smile to try to avoid responding. She regretted that white lie she'd told her mom some time ago. Her mother questioned how Jazz was able to cover the rent for her place and some of her services along with her own on a bartender 's salary. Jazz originally explained the wealthy patrons provided generous tips along with a fairly good salary. After all, finding a spot working at Maccadam's wasn't easy. It worked for a while , but as Jazz took over more of her mother's expenses, the questions grew and her mother insisted Jazz should move in with her to lower the strain on her to sustain two homes.
Jazz assured her she was doing just fine and admitted that she wasn't paying for rent because she was living with her boyfriend who owned the apartment. Ever since, the woman had dropped subtle and not so subtle hints she wished to meet the man, ever suspicious of why he was never around whenever Jazz met her mom.
"He's at work , M om. And I told you he doesn't like getting in the way of the time I get to spend with you. He's very considerate of me needing some "me" time with you."
"You're living with this man , and you don't think you should introduce him to your mother." That arched eyebrow was something Jazz had learned to be wary of.
"We're living together. We're not married. I don't want you jumping to tell every soul in the neighborhood about your daughter's boyfriend. And don't give me that look - you know you would do just that the second you meet him." Jazz gave a big bite to her food as if to put an end to the topic. "You'll meet him when I think we're ready for it, ok?"
"Fineeeeee." The woman sighed theatrically. "But you should at least show me a photo of him some time. I want to know who my daughter is dating, you know… for safety."
Jazz looked down at her half eaten food. It wasn't an unreasonable request. The problem was that she had no boyfriend whatsoever , and she couldn't just send her mother a photo of some poor random person. Maybe Prowl could help her get that sorted out. "I'll send you a few photos later."
"Magnificent!"
_____
"You did what?" Why did Prowl's eyebrow raise in the exact same way as her mother's?
"I just need to get some trustworthy fellow to take some photos with so mom will stop buggin' me about meeting the boyfriend I don't have!" She gave him a pleading look. "Can't you help me out with that?"
Prowl gave a long defeated sigh and took off his cap. "Give me your phone."
Puzzled, Jazz handed her phone, making sure it was unlocked. "Whatcha gonna do?"
"Getting your mother some proof of this boyfriend of yours. Now, smile."
It was only due to her training kicking in that Jazz managed a smile as Prowl proceeded to take several selfies of them, he kept a respectful distance, never touching her without her prompting yet managing to convey a closeness and comfortable relationship in the photos taken. "Do you think these will suffice?"
Jazz looked through the pictures and hummed in thought. "We need one that's a bit more chummy. Y'know like a lot more of a couple that lives together kind of photo?" She turned to him with pleading eyes. "You mind if we're more snuggly? Maybe a cheek kiss and all that? You mind?"
Despite initially not expecting Prowl to rise to the challenge of pretending to be her fake boyfriend, it became natural and comfortable for her to ask him. She felt the safest around him. Knew she could trust her life to him too.
"If you don't mind , then it's fine with me."
Jazz giggled in amusement. "Y'know you're the only guy I have ever met who would ask for some kinda permission to just hold and touch someone for a fake photo requested of them."
"It is not polite to touch a lady without her permission." Prowl smiled, equally amused by her quip. "Invading one's personal space can be stressful. You already put up with that on a regular basis , so why would I make it worse by not asking?"
Jazz smiled and went on to press herself a little more to him, angling their faces so it would look like Prowl was kissing her cheek and holding her close, when they were merely brushing their faces against each other.
It turned out to be her mother's favorite picture of her daughter and who she assumed would be her son-in-law.
________
The arrangement worked out to stave off her mother's insistence in having Jazz bring about her supposed boyfriend. A couple of selfies with Prowl a few times worked to have her content enough , and a small photo tour of her place satisfied her enough to know Jazz was doing ok and her boyfriend was taking care of her.
It was a little extra work on their part , but Jazz was glad Prowl was kind enough to put up with it. He would claim it was just a small thing to do and it was helping to keep her cover so it was no trouble to him. This allowed Jazz to keep her focus on her assignments. Which were mostly intelligence gathering at the current time. A couple of new clubs were added to her stalking grounds. These were near the borderlands of the city close to Kaon and were far more dangerous than the clubs where she frequently worked.
The closer one went to the border to Kaon , the more dangerous it was to live and survive. While the government was continuing efforts to expand welfare and support to the more ravaged areas of the city, the criminal rings that often took hold of these more impoverished areas would heavily delay progress. It was even more difficult because many of the people who lived in these areas were often Kaonite refugees who were easily terrorized by local criminals who scared them into submission.
It was a saddening contrast to the suburban areas that bordered friendlier places like Polyhex or Altihex. It was known some Kaonite crime rings managed to cross the borders often aided by local Iaconian gangs and managed to establish a presence , terrorizing and sucking out the life out of the refugees and other less fortunate Iaconians all the same. These were areas where people often clung to ancestral homes that barely survived the war or that were partly salvageable.
Jazz grew up in the fine line between poverty and low middle class. Her mother took on as many jobs as she could to support her, keeping her fed, clothed , and educated. Fancy toys and electronics were prized rewards her mom would work hard to obtain for her but were rare treats. Still, Jazz knew she was far more fortunate than so many others around these places.
The agency allowed her to keep the money she would make working the floor, but Jazz had no need for it. She often shared her earnings with some of the other dancers in the clubs. But in the borders , she often gave her earnings to the needy she found on the streets, wishing so badly these areas could be cleaned faster so kids wouldn't need a stranger's pity.
Jazz knew the moment someone managed to reignite the hostilities between Kaon and Iacon, these very lands would be the first to suffer and that only fueled her determination to slit the throats of anyone she could get her hands on that actively sought to aid that effort.
As it turned out, these clubs were testy to work compared to her usual. Patrons were much rowdier and more handsy , to say the least. Since day one , she had to remind her new patrons they could watch to their hearts' content , but touching came with a fee and touching more sensitive areas was a big no. As it often was in these places, the patrons were used to getting away with bypassing fees and the comfort of the people working the floor and Jazz had to teach them she was not one afraid to fight back.
"Watch that hand, luv. Touchin's got a price tag." That had been her warning when she'd noticed a straying hand. "I'd hate t'break that big bad hand o' yours." And as the warning went unheeded the second a fingertip barely brushed the back of her thigh with clear intent to move upwards, her own clamped down on the offending limb, twisting it just enough to give a little ache. "An' that up there, ya really can't afford, sugar."
She was glad she hadn't needed to resort to proving her point to those who had needed the warnings, knowing some could easily get more violent. Thankfully, even here the club owners had no desire to have unnecessary commotions and be cheated out of their portion of the fees, so the patrons knew not to try to get violent with the workers. Outside the clubs, though, it was free game , so Prowl arranged for Jazz to be picked up by some of their agents who masqueraded as shared app drivers in their day-to-day so they would be waiting right outside the club to drop her at a place Prowl would be waiting to pick her up.
It had been on a similar night of handsy patrons and those even willing to pay more than a 'touching fee' that Jazz managed to gather intelligence on coming activities to the locale. Jazz exited her shared drive at her usual place, looking like she was going to a building but instead heading towards the back to get into Prowl's car.
"I'm so fucking tired." She complained the second she plopped on the back seat. "Those lil' shits really want a fist to the face." She secured her seatbelt and didn't even bother to take off her visor.
"I'm sorry." Prowl looked at her with what seemed cold blue eyes that she recognized hid many layers of emotion she had learned to identify over her time working with him. "Thankfully this is your last assignment to that place for a while. We have a different agent ready to take over for the next phase here."
"Godspeed to them." Jazz sighed, comforted that she didn't have to put up with that club for some time. These places took more energy out of her than some of her more delicate missions ever did.
Prowl drove her to her place as usual, not at all concerned with her silence as he was aware of how tiring these places were for her. He did not expect she'd fall asleep on the backseat, however, and was glad her assignment to these clubs was over for the time being. He parked the car and exited to open the passenger's door on her side. He was of the mind to wake her up , but she really looked exhausted , and he felt a pang of guilt over waking her too soon.
With a resigned sigh, he undid the seat belt and gathered her in his arms, kicking the door closed as he carried her to her apartment. He had the spare access for the door and carried her to her bedroom and laid her down on the comfortable bed. He looked for her light switch and turned it on, hearing her groan at the sudden lights.
"Wake up, Jazz. You need to change and get some rest."
"Nngh… can't you do it yourself?" She turned to lie face down on the bed, heavy coat and all.
"I told you. A gentleman should not undress a lady without her consent." Prowl chuckled in amusement and opened her closet for her while he turned to the vanity to look for something to clean her face of her makeup.
"What if I give you permission?" she mumbled, far more asleep than awake. "I'm tired…"
"Not undressing you until we have had at least some flowers, a dinner , and your mother's blessing. Get changed, Jazz." Prowl chuckled at her sleepy disregard for propriety.
"Don't forget the ring…" Jazz mumbled as she heaved herself off the bed and grabbed the first nightgown she could find and headed for her bathroom to change. She could hear Prowl chuckle again and respond with "Yes, my love." She'd love a shower , but she was just too tired to even manage that much. She returned to her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed as Prowl came with a cotton pad clearly doused in her cleaning products.
"May I?" He asked as she nodded sleepily, tilting her head up so he could clean her face. The careful hands cleaning her face and tilting her head this way and that ended up being much more soothing than she expected. Before she knew it , she was under her comfortable covers and drifting off to sleep. "Night, Prowler…" she managed to mumble.
"Good night, Jazz." She didn't even hear the click of her door closing.