Chapter Text
Jazz stared at the low clearance above him, on his back in a ceiling vent with his hands crossed behind his helm as he listened to the conversation taking place in the room below.
"...think about letting go?"
"I can't, I can't do that."
"The only way to begin the grieving process--"
"I said I can't do that!"
A long silence.
"Do you remember what you told me last time?"
"That doesn't matter. It wasn't confirmed."
"I'd like you to repeat what you told me last time."
A heavy sigh. "Intelligence suggests he was part of the captured group."
"And...?"
"And executed." A shuddering intake, then a frustrated hiss. "But no frame was ever recovered, they don't know!"
"I understand you aren't ready to let go. I think moving towards that step should be the next stage here."
"I told you already, I'm not giving up on him! He wouldn't give up on me!"
"I can't force you. But I do want to help you. And right now, we're stuck until you can accept that he was almost certainly executed as a POW. We'll take all the time you need, but given what we know, I no longer think it is in your best interests to support unfounded hope."
"But he's alive." The vocalizer cracked. "He has to be alive, I can't live without him."
Jazz sighed and pushed himself up on one elbow. It was going about as badly as he'd expected, and not at all as well as he'd hoped. He knew the odds of survival of Crisscross's lover were an incredibly long shot, and he gave it better odds than his own mate did. At the same time he had beaten the odds and come home after being proclaimed DIA twice and missing, presumed deactivated three other times that he was aware of.
Jazz was a master of beating the odds against his survival and so was Prowl. Yeah, Prowl made his accomplishments look puny. Granted, Prowl had only beat expectations once, but what a once it had been. Only two Enforcers had been pulled out of the ruble of Praxus still functioning and only one lasted a metacycle. The Decepticons had been after anything with a spark pulse, but they actively hunted anyone of authority. That he was still functioning was just about a miracle.
Not quite, because Prowl had quoted him the statistics and Jazz knew that miracles didn't really exist. But it was close.
As a friend, Jazz found Crisscross's hope admirable. As a supervisor ... it was unhealthy, and it was making the mech unproductive. The uncertainty was wearing him down but the refusal to begin grieving was halting any real progress.
He couldn't help Crisscross to see things differently, but he knew he didn't want that uncertainty. He was sure Prowl didn't want it either. The only trouble was that making sure the other knew for certain was such a huge step. Were either of them ready for it?
He moved silently out of the vents, leaving Crisscross to figure out what little he could and privately setting him aside as unfit for strenuous duty. He and Prowl had talked about it, a long time ago, back when Praxus was a shining city and the war a distant murmur. They hadn't been ready then, but they'd been open to it, when the right time came along.
Was now right? Tactically, no, it wasn't. Prowl would surely say that. If Jazz was deactivated or even critically damaged it could distract Prowl, or even worse it could cause him to focus on Jazz and not what he should be doing. Jazz knew he was more than slightly inclined to scrap a mission if it meant saving Prowl. At the same time, knowing the other was safe would allow them to focus on their duties more completely outside of those moments.
Jazz bit his lip as he slipped into the hallway and hooked his thumbs into his hip joints as he walked. The chances of him vanishing without a trace weren't insignificant. Which would be worse, Prowl fading into the same lingering uncertainty that Crisscross was being swallowed by, or knowing that Jazz was gone?
Who was Jazz to decide? He loved his mate, he trusted his mate enough to not make that choice for him. Prowl deserved to have as much a voice in this as Jazz did. It was Prowl's spark on the line as much as Jazz's after all.
It didn't take long to get to their quarters, as cramped as they all were in the subterranean barracks. "Prowler?" he asked as he walked in, both announcing his presence and checking if his mate was there.
"Here," Prowl replied from the berth to announce his location to the mate who sometimes came home less than fully locked into reality. "Done for the orn?" he asked as he set a datapad aside and sat up more fully.
Jazz shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah. Been knockin' about for a while."
Prowl nodded and patted the berth next to him, inviting his mate to join him and to whatever Jazz needed to settle himself.
Jazz flopped down with a heavy x-vent and situated himself with his helm in Prowl's lap. "Been thinkin'."
"Oh?" Prowl asked.
"Yeah. Listened in a bit on Crisscross in therapy, he's havin' trouble dealin' with Vayne bein' gone."
"To be expected. Few mecha let go easily without a frame," Prowl allowed, but his harmonics were cautious. "Are you considering providing one?"
"I wasn't, but that's not a bad idea," Jazz mused. "He'll be worthless until there's some kind of closure, and I don't think he'll come ta it on his own. Nah, I've been thinkin' about us. What if the same thing happened?"
Prowl stilled completely, then allowed a small x-vent to escape as his optics unfocused. "I would not give up looking. Depending on my rank it could well end the war sooner than anticipated."
"Heh. Maybe best ta leave things the way they are, then," Jazz said with a small smile as he reached up to run his fingers along his mate's jaw. Prowl leaned into the touch willingly, glad to be able to soak it in.
"If it ends in our favor," Prowl murmured. "Ending does not assume an Autobot victory."
"Why ya gotta be so technical," Jazz murmured in reply, wishing badly that they could just forget everything and get lost in each other, not a care in the world except their schedules not meeting up often enough, or Prowl being cranky over a speeder getting away from someone in his department. Those had been good times. Time when they both had more flexibility and fewer duties, and much better accommodations.
"Because I am," Prowl smiled faintly. "Now what was it you came in to discuss?"
"Why would you think I just came in ta discuss something?" Jazz asked with a bit of a pout.
"Because I know you very well, my love, and you are being abnormally contemplative," Prowl said, slipping his hand around Jazz's to still the exploring fingers, and lowering their hands to Jazz's chest.
Jazz x-vented. "I think we might wanna think about bonding," he said. Even knowing Prowl as well as he did, Jazz wasn't sure of the response he would get, other than it being well thought out.
"Only to avoid not knowing?" Prowl asked carefully.
"Not only," Jazz said. "But it's a perk. There's a good chance of one of us dyin' any orn, an' if we don't, it'll just mean we let the war take that from us. And..." He hesitated briefly, and got an encouraging squeeze from Prowl. "And it'd make lettin' go really easy if somethin' happened. Prolly better for the 'Bots that way, too."
Prowl hummed thoughtfully and dimmed his optics further. "May I have time to process this?"
"Of course," Jazz flushed reassurance through his field. "I'm not going anywhere for at least a few orns."
"Then I will give you an answer before your next mission," Prowl promised.
"Really?" Jazz nuzzled against his mate's abdomen. "Take more time if ya need it. And if ya think it's a bad idea, I just wanna hear why, and I won't ask again. Okay?"
"Yes," Prowl promised as he stroked Jazz's helm. "I do desire to bond with you. I am less sure if now is a good time."
"No hasty decisions," Jazz said, and kissed Prowl's middle, then lower. He rolled onto his side and felt his mate's hand settle on his helm as his mouth pressed to a warm cover. He smiled and nuzzled again, fingers linked with Prowl's as arousal bloomed between them.
Jazz came back to their shared quarters with buzzing in his processors and simmering in his tanks. He stepped lightly, nervous, excited, eager, anxious. "Prowler?" he called in his standard greeting.
"Here," Prowl answered from the berth and set his datapad down to welcome his lover.
Jazz joined him, sliding onto the berth and taking a slow, sweet kiss that was very willingly returned. "I'm too nervous," he said when he pulled away. "Just tell me what you think and get it over with."
"I think it is to our advantage to bond," Prowl stroked Jazz's back.
"Really?" Jazz delighted answer was accompanied by another pouncing kiss that pushed Prowl back into the berth. Jazz didn't stay there long before pushing himself up. "What if something happens to one of us?"
"As you suggested, it will be easier to let go knowing there is no hope of return," Prowl pointed out gently. "The survivor will know to keep the Autobots out of whatever final mission they choose."
"A break could happen in a critical moment," Jazz said. "I trust you ta keep control, I'm not so sure about me."
"I am," Prowl caressed a sensor horn. "If it is important, you will do what is necessary."
Jazz tilted his helm into the hand and hummed. "So ya think this is actually a good idea, instead'a just me thinkin' we should do it?"
"The advantages far outweigh the disadvantages, love." Prowl smiled slightly. "While the ultimate reasons are completely selfish, the tactical value of it is very high. You will be able to send me valuable tactical data in real time, and I can update you on important changes without calling you in. It will reduce your probability of being captured since you will no longer be required to break cover to send information and we will know immediately if you are captured, thus reducing the probability of your deactivation or breaking."
"I'm so glad I asked ya," Jazz said. "Your reasons are way better than my reasons."
A small flush of pride infused Prowl's field. "What did you think of?"
Jazz grinned. "That I really, really want ta, and it's stupid ta let a war stop us from doin' this."
"While trusting Whiplash to realize that you will do what you want and there is nothing he can do to stop you," Prowl chuckled and leaned forward for a kiss. "Do you want a ceremony?"
"Nah," Jazz said with a shrug. "Who'd come, anyway?"
"There are many mecha who like you enough and Whiplash," Prowl whispered with another kiss that sent a trail of liquid heat through Jazz's frame. "Bluestreak would certainly attend for me, as would many officers. We are both officers. There would be some pressure not to appear to snub us. Knowing our Prime, he would love to officiate it. He is always going on about not losing who and what we are to this war. But it should be about us and what would make us happy."
"Do you want a small ceremony?" Jazz asked. "I wouldn't mind it. Just not how I was picturing it."
"No, what matters to me is in our sparks," Prowl purred softly with another strut-melting kiss.
"Mmm, me too," Jazz purred in answer. "So I'll ask for leave, how long do you want to request for?"
"As I understand it, ten orns is the medically advisable minimum," Prowl hummed. "So fifteen?"
"I like fifteen," Jazz said with a grin. "After all, with two overachievers like us we should be able to knock out a bond in five and spend the last ten fragging."
Prowl laughed. "As if newly bonded mecha do anything else."
Jazz chased down a happy, humming kiss. "One decaorn from today, can you get that?"
"Either normally or by Ratchet," Prowl agreed. "I expect it will be by Ratchet."
"Mm." Jazz nipped at Prowl's lip. "Think Sonar won't give it to ya?"
"Not if he works out why I want so much time off with such short notice. He is cruel on his good orns," Prowl explained before giving the kiss.
"So tell him it's personal time, I'm havin' a rough bit an' ya need it ta spend with me. Bet I could even get 'Lash ta order it," Jazz said. "He does outrank him."
"I intend to simply request the time and if it is refused it will either be Ratchet or Whiplash to force him. It would be nice to know if I could count on Whiplash for this, or if I can count on him to be trouble," Prowl admitted.
"I'll ask," Jazz said. "He's not gonna be thrilled, but I think y' right, he knows he can't stop me so he might as well let me do it the right way."
"Don't forget to mention those advantages the bond would give," Prowl purred deeply. "It will give him good ammo against Sonar."
"Heeey 'Lash," Jazz drawled as he sauntered into his CO's private office. "Got a klik?"
"Apparently I do," Whiplash said, setting down his work and looking up at Jazz. "What's up?"
"I need half a decaorn off soon. Like the decaorn after next," Jazz gave his best "I've been a good agent" look.
That made Whiplash visibly pause to think about the who and the when and the potential why. "Your workload isn't the easiest to redistribute, you know," he said.
"And you know I'm due a whole lot more than I'm asking for. Sixteen orns isn't that difficult to clear," Jazz countered. He waited a beat. "I'm askin' nice here."
Whiplash watched him for a moment, then huffed. "And you know that I know that I'll regret it if you're not asking nicely. Okay, I'll bite. Why?"
"Me an' Prowler are going ta bond," Jazz allowed the truth to sit there, out in the open and between them.
Whiplash x-vented deeply. "I thought we talked about this, after Praxus."
"Things are different now. I didn't almost lose Prowl and he's stable now." Jazz shook his helm. "Back then I didn't know how valuable it could be in the war effort. Might not be why we want ta, but it's still a good argument for you approvin' it."
"Valuable? Bonds are a liability, nothing else," Whiplash huffed.
"Yes, valuable. I can pass on most intel in real time without breaking any cover or risking getting caught. Prowl can give me updates I might need through the bond, so again, I don't need to risk breaking cover. And there's the little point that Prowl would know immediately if I've been compromised, so there's no wondering about my status," Jazz rattled off the most valuable parts. "After what he's survived already, he's not goin' ta break the instant I gray. He'll finish the battle."
"He'll finish the battle, I'll give you that," Whiplash said. "Not the war. If one of you goes gray, the other will follow."
"That's true whether or not we're bonded," Jazz said carefully. "We're both past the point where one will outlast the other for long."
"Not physically," Whiplash said. "Not yet. Only if you do this."
"Which we are going to do." Jazz told him firmly. "I'd rather it be with your approval, but ya aren't goin' ta stop it."
Whiplash stared at him, long and hard. "This is because of Crisscross, isn't it," he said.
"He got it started. Prowl's tactical analysis said there wasn't a down side but plenty of up sides," Jazz admitted. "Though speakin' of Crisscross, Prowl suggested giving him a body if you're that sure Vayne is gone."
"That's not a bad idea," Whiplash hummed. "Not going to get him back until he accepts it. Alright, fine, have your time off. I guess it's better to to work at full strength and then lose it all rather than have you fade away and make mistakes."
"Thanks boss," Jazz smiled and rocked on his pedes eagerly. "Ya won't regret it. I'll be even better bonded, and so will Prowl."
Whiplash snorted. "If not you're fired."
"No I'm not," Jazz grinned, all but dancing over to give Whiplash a kiss on the cheek before bolting out and leaving his boss to sort out the details of his leave.
Sonar descended upon Prowl in the rec room while he was refueling between shifts, all bluster and show, like most of the mech's attempts at real strategy. Prowl sipped his energon calmly while the confrontation made its way over.
"What is this?" Sonar demanded, waving a datapad at him.
"My request for leave," Prowl answered calmly.
"Why?" Sonar demanded, throwing it down onto the table.
Prowl gave him a slightly exasperated look usually reserved for miscreants who just couldn't learn. "Since I have not taken any personal leave since I joined it is my right to ask for it," he began, making the point more for those listening in than his commanding officer. "The length is based on the CMO's recommendation."
"And just what do you need a CMO's recommendation for?" Sonar asked, optics narrowing with suspicion.
"To spark bond and return to duty without impairment," Prowl answered without a hint of shame or unease. All around the room shock flared and rippled and at least three mecha made the distressed sounds of a pending logic center crash.
"You will do no such thing," Sonar said immediately. "I do not grant this request--which, may I remind you, is a request. Making yourself unfit for service will never be a granted request."
"Then the leave will come in the form of a medical order." Prowl pointed out. "While rare, bonding is not against any regulation. Only the Prime has authorization to deny the right to bond and only before it happens."
"Then I'll be going to the Prime," Sonar said. "And don't you think I won't. Tying yourself to that insane death-seeker will just guarantee we lose you as a resource whenever he finally goes too far, and he will go too far someday."
"That is your choice," Prowl said mildly. "When and to whom I bond is mine."
"Get Ratchet to grant your leave, then," Sonar said, looking around the room. "Though very soon you will have no reason for it."
Prowl inclined his helm in acceptance of the statement and pinged his lover with an encryption they had created together and never shared. ::Jazz, I would suggest we move the time table up as much as you can manage. Sonar has made a threat to your continued presence.::
A chuckle answered him. ::Right, like he could do anything. Sure, though. 'Lash is on board, just lemme submit the new dates.::
::We do plan the majority of your missions. Do not discount how dangerous a tactician can be,:: Prowl warned him. ::I will contact Ratchet.::
::I should thank your glitch of a boss for gettin' me that spark 'a yours sooner,:: Jazz purred. ::See ya after shift.::
Prowl did his best not to show his nerves on the way to his quarters. Ratchet was predictably outraged that Sonar would refuse the leave and surprisingly congratulatory to Prowl for finally finding something worth fighting for the future for. The past few joors continued to swirl in his processors, his tac-net obsessing over what Sonar was planning. It had him completely frazzled by the time he reached the door and palmed it open.
Jazz was already stretched out on their berth, looking all the world like he'd meant it to be a seductive pose, but he was deep in recharge. It generated a rumble of desire in Prowl and a jolt of charge as he stepped closer.
"Jazz," Prowl cooed. He wanted to touch, to stretch alongside his lover, but he knew better than to startle him.
Jazz's field flickered out to touch its mate's, warming. He shifted a little, then stretched. "Mmh. Prowla'." Just a murmur, but part of the normal boot process to let Prowl know that Jazz was aware of himself, and calm. It was more than enough for Prowl to join his love on the berth and snuggle close.
"Ready to enjoy our bonding?" Prowl murmured with a soft kiss.
"Hmm?" Jazz's optics slowly flickered on. "What? Oh." He looked around, then gave a rueful laugh. "I slipped off."
"All the more energy you'll have for me," Prowl smiled and stroked seductively down Jazz's chest.
"Mmm. Dunno about that. Told 'Lash I needed to move the leave up and he crammed about five orns' worth into one shift." Jazz hooked his leg around Prowl's. "But I guess with you just right there..." He purred and pushed himself up into a kiss.
"I was faced with much the same," Prowl admitted. "We have our leave signed off and the next half decaorn to ourselves under medical orders."
Jazz purred against his mate and stroked a finger down his chest, his own parting open. "We're finally doing this."
"Yes," Prowl whispered into another kiss and parted his armor to spill pale blue light across Jazz's frame, mingling with the rich purple shining up from below.
Shortly before coming on duty again from the bonding leave Prowl ensured all the forms and reports required to have his bond known to those who needed to known and the law were in and recorded. The last thing he wanted was for his CO to find a way to use it against him because it wasn't filed perfectly.
He was not expecting a duty ping as he headed for the tactical center, much less the order it contained: report to the Prime immediately.
Without hesitation he shifted course for the coordinates embedded in the ping, and realized he was heading for the Prime's private quarters.
About halfway there, Jazz appeared alongside him and Prowl felt the wonderful, amazing, still-delighting stroke against his spark.
"You too, hmm?" Jazz hummed.
"Yes. I anticipate it is about our new status," Prowl sent a pulse of shivering delight at that status across the bond.
"Can't imagine why the Prime cares," Jazz said, tickling back.
"We will soon find out," Prowl suppressed a shiver of desire and pinged a request for access.
"Jazz, Prowl," Optimus's familiar rumble greeted them from beyond the entryway. "Come in, make yourselves comfortable."
Jazz and Prowl made their way into the Prime's living room and found him reclining on a lounge, with a pitcher of fizzing energon set out beside two cubes. Prowl sat in a chair designed for wings, though he remained fairly stiff as he waited for the Prime to make his intentions known. Jazz, in opposite fashion, flopped down and poured himself a full cube of the low grade. Tasty, though hardly any real fuel to be found in it. "What's up, Prime?"
Optimus looked between the two. "I received the notice of your bonding today, congratulations."
"Thank you," Prowl dipped his doorwings.
"Best thing I've ever done," Jazz grinned happily and felt Prowl lean towards him and the joy the words brought to his mate.
"I also received an official conduct complaint against you, Prowl," Optimus said. "For acting in defiance of your direct superior's wishes."
"He instructed me to acquire bonding leave from Ratchet, so I did. I would be surprised if he hadn't complained," Prowl answered.
"Can I ask why you decided, now, to go through with this?" Optimus asked them.
"One of Jazz's coworkers has a mate who was probably captured and executed, but no frame or proof of deactivation has been found," Prowl began the sequence for himself. "I have long known I wish to bond with Jazz. However I have accepted the common wisdom that it is a bad idea in war. When Jazz told me of what he had seen and asked if I wished to bond, I gave my tac-net time to process every variable and long term projection. The benefits to the war effort far outweigh the risks in our particular case. That made going with our wish to bond an acceptable choice for me."
"I just plain wanted ta bond with the love of my life," Jazz said with a grin.
Optimus's optics warmed with a smile. "I'm happy for you both, I truly am. If you believe it is in our best interests, I will do my best to block the backlash coming from Sonar. He's very frustrated about this."
"Thank you. Anything that prevents him from completely subjugating and terrorizing all mecha around him frustrates him," Prowl spoke a truth few dared to. "I have long been a primary target."
Optimus x-vented. "He won plenty of battles for us, and understands the enemy extraordinarily well. I will look into the rest of it. He raises some genuine concerns, particularly considering how dangerous your specialty is, Jazz."
Jazz raised his cube with a smirk.
"It is simple to understand those who think as you do," Prowl said calmly.
"However, considering Whiplash's agreement and comments, as well as your assessment, I believe his concerns are largely unfounded, given what we stand to gain," Optimus finished.
"All things worth fighting for must be worth risking for," Prowl said softly. "My tac-net can give numbers, odds and options, but it takes a spark to determine how much risk is worth the potential reward." He paused and made a quick swap of a datachip in his forearm and offered it to Optimus. "These are my tac-net's full analysis, and my parameters for ranking the results. You may find it useful when speaking to Sonar about this. I do not take extensive risks."
"You expect he will give me trouble?" Optimus lifted an optic ridge even as he accepted the chip for later.
"No, he is as keenly aware of rank and power as I am and I do not believe him a threat to the war effort or you. What it will do is assist you in speaking our dialect more fluently. The less he has to translate the more likely you will get your point across," Prowl attempted to explain. "Have you ever had to listen to scientists discuss technical aspects of their work?" He smiled slightly at the groan Optimus managed to suppress. "Tactical mecha have a dialect just as specialized as science models."
"Thank you," Optimus said with a smile. "I will do what I can."
"Thanks, Prime," Jazz said. "Means a lot."
"I'm glad to see mecha continuing to live," Optimus said. "That, more than anything, is what keeps me fighting."
"How's it goin', boss mech?" Jazz asked as he sauntered into the CTO's office.
"Busy," Prowl replied without looking up. "How long before you try for a promotion yourself?"
Jazz snorted. "Ya kiddin'? And trade in the fun 'a gettin' tossed all over the planet for bein' a desk-sittin' grouch like Whiplash? No thanks. You wouldn't'a even tried for it if Sonar hadn't turned traitor on us, and I know that ain't gonna happen with 'Lash."
"Quite true. Even if he did, he's far too skilled to be caught before it's far too late," Prowl extended a hand to draw Jazz into his lap for a soft kiss that instantly set off every alarm bell in Jazz's finely tuned survival protocols. "How are you feeling?"
Jazz frowned at him. "Why?" he asked, relaxing the work hold that he kept on their bond so he could get a better sense of Prowl's intentions. His mate was uneasy, upset really, and it was directly related to Jazz somehow.
Prowl sighed. "There's an upcoming mission for Ops."
"Ah. Hence the promotion talk," Jazz said, slumping a little. He looked at Prowl, then sighed. "So what is it, and why do I get the feelin' it's mine?"
"Because you have the best probability of coming back functional," Prowl held him a bit more tightly. "You always get the hardest missions. This one is a long undercover mission."
"Deep cover," Jazz hummed. "As what?"
"Interrogator," Prowl said.
Jazz flashed a grin. "My favorite."
"I'd rather not remember that," Prowl shivered with a slithering coil of fear towards the boogiemech of his function. "You are to find out what happened with the VIM list, find out where the Decepticon's detention center is and who's in it."
"Sure thing," Jazz said. "Got the report for me, or is it too soon?"
"Too soon," Prowl allowed himself to relax. "I expect Whiplash will brief you in the next decaorn or two." He rested his forehelm against Jazz's. "Expect updates periodically by bond while you are under."
"Mm." Jazz tilted his head. "Lemme contact you for those. Gimmie a schedule ta keep. 'S disorienting to break like that, dunno what a bond will do ta it. Don't really want the trial run ta be somethin' this deep, but it'll hafta do."
"Agreed, though I would rather never test it," Prowl sighed. "However, this mission does mean that until then you are on a lighter work duty than most. I'll take what time off that I can. We may not see each other for decades."
"Or longer," Jazz said grimly, and pressed in for another soft kiss. "If we schedule in breaks it'll be easier ta contact. Not so different from meetin' with a handler."
"One difference," Prowl murmured as he surrendered to his bonded's desires. "Only Soundwave can use these meetings against you. It will be so much safer for you. How often and long a window should it be?"
"Breakin' character's hard," Jazz sighed. "Switching profiles takes a bit. Need ta manipulate schedules ... One orn, twice per vorn sound good?"
They felt how much Prowl want to scream no and the fight it took to manage to nod. "I can do that. What is procedure if I cannot make it? Rare as it is, there have been battles where I have not looked up from the tactical board for a decaorn except to catch enough recharge to function."
"Let's figure that out later, hmm?" Jazz hummed. "Contingency plans sound boring. You, though..." He nipped at Prowl's lip.
"Wants his bonded's frame and spark every way possible before his next shift," Prowl rumbled, the desire honest even if it was fueled by the coming loss. He gave Jazz a push. "Our quarters. Now."
"Mhmm," Jazz hummed into a deeper kiss before sliding backwards off Prowl's lap and making his way slowly to the door, hips swaying as he walked.