Pretty much rewrote this chapter – it was one of the worst as far as characterization. So the basic plot is the same, but Riella, Prowl, and Jazz are all fairly different, as is the way their prank plays out. There's also more with the Riella/Prowl bond.

Chapter 2: Pranksters

"I know that feeling, Riella." Prowl looked up from his makeshift desk when Riella and Jazz entered his office. "You know Optimus won't be happy if you cause a diplomatic incident. And aren't you supposed to be in the medbay, Jazz?"

Nice to see you too, Prowl, Riella teased. Over the bond, of course – Jazz would have taken the joke further if she said it out loud. "No worries. This should be perfectly harmless."

"It's the 'should be' that worries me." Prowl arched a brow ridge, an expression that was almost eerily similar to Riella's usual reaction. "Doesn't the government dislike us enough already?"

Riella sighed. "Maybe. But Simmons really does need taking down a peg or two. Besides, aren't they making efforts to fire him?"

"Hmm, fair point." Prowl stared at both of them, calculating the odds that they would be successful and avoid causing a major problem. "Whose idea was this?"

"Mine," Jazz admitted. "I thought...ya know, with the twins an' Blue bein' gone...it might cheer Riella-girl up to pull a prank or two."

"I suspected as much. Riella is rarely the instigator when it comes to causing potential interplanetary disputes." Prowl looked at his mate. Is he right? Would it help? I know you were disappointed not to hear from them sooner.

Riella shrugged. It might. Mostly, I just want to see the look on Simmons' face. It would be something to tell the twins about, anyway. Sideswipe would laugh.

Sideswipe also laughed when you called Sentinel Prime a glitch-head in front of Alpha Trion, Prowl responded dryly. That didn't turn out well for either of you.

What are you talking about? We had the best 'awkward moment' story in the Cyber-Ninja corps for years. Riella stifled a snicker. Don't worry, Prowl. I promise, this will not be a big deal. I know for a fact the government has told Simmons to stop bothering us. We're just…confirming that it happens to be a bad idea to disregard that.

Of course you are. Prowl was about to continue when their discussion was interrupted by Jazz's annoyed sigh.

"Are ya done? Primus, we turn ya loose for a couple stellar cycles and next we know, ya forgot basic rules of talking. I'm standin' right here! Use words!"

"Sorry," Riella and Prowl apologized simultaneously. Prowl continued. "We're trying – "

"- to work on it," Riella finished. Jazz groaned.

"Stop that! I can't focus when ya keep switching. Just one of ya talk."

With some effort, Prowl responded. "Sorry, Jazz. Back to the topic at hand. You two wanted…Silly String. And Riella wanted me to go get it because…"

"…You're the one with the credit card," Riella finished. "And Jazz isn't allowed to leave the base, so it was always going to have to be one of us."

"Hmmm." Prowl took another moment to consider, sighed, and nodded. "Okay. I can do that, on one condition."

"Name it!" Jazz started grinning like a maniac.

"You're going back to the medbay until we get back."

Jazz's face fell. "Why? I already promised. I'm not leavin' base."

"I know. But you're not even supposed to be out here in the first place." Prowl looked his old friend over critically. "And honestly, you look like you're about to fall over. Go back to the medbay, or I'll pick you up and take you."

Jazz opened his mouth to protest. Prowl folded both arms across his chest and stared flatly at the silver mech, and after a moment, Jazz sighed in frustration and muttered, "Fine." He turned and limped out of Prowl's office, muttering something about 'not that bad, overreacting…'

Primus, he's stubborn. Prowl reached down and picked up Riella, placing her on his shoulder. Riella rolled her optics.

Hubcaps and tires, Prowl.

It took less than an hour to find exactly what they were looking for, although part of the quick trip was due to Prowl ignoring the speed limit every time he was on an open road. By the time they returned and checked back in at the medbay, though, Jazz looked like he'd been going stir-crazy for the entire time.

"Where've ya been?" The silver mech tried to get up too quickly, and almost fell off the bunk. Prowl caught him just in time. "Ow! Thanks. Didja find it?"

"Mm-hmm." Riella removed two cans of Silly String from her subspace. "Hope you're right about this. So who's setting up what?"

Prowl sighed. "I suppose I'm too involved to back out now. I'll help."

Jazz grinned. "Awesome! Okay, follow me an' I'll show ya what I'm thinkin'…" He led the way outside, to the small parking garage that was soon to be converted to another hangar. "See that? We set up the air-vent design, but with these." He pointed to a pile of PVC pipe, half-hidden in a dim alley between buildings.

"Hmm. Lined with the anti-contact tape, I take it." Prowl studied one of the pipes in fascination. "Riella, you've memorized the air-vent design, yes?"

Yes. Riella was already fitting the pipes together carefully. Prowl nodded and continued. "Jazz, help her with that. I'll monitor the humans. When you're finished, you and I will maneuver it onto the roof, I'll use a hologram to hide it, and Riella can set up the Silly String. Good?"

Jazz nodded, already reaching for the end of the pipes. "Good."

With the three of them working, setup took less than ten minutes. That was a good thing, because moments after Riella had positioned the metal cans at the end of their makeshift air vent and pronounced the whole thing a perfect model, her communicator beeped. ::Ratchet to Riella. Or Prowl. I don't care who.::

::Riella here,:: the technorganic responded with a slight frown. ::What's up?::

::That Pit-slagged meeting is over, and Simmons wants to talk to you. One of you.::

Prowl sighed. ::Prowl here, Ratchet. Is this about those reports?::

::Probably.:: Ratchet sounded like he was grimacing. ::Anyway, he's on his way out.::

::Copy.:: Riella looked up at Prowl with a slight grin. "I'll meet him at the door. One of you can handle this end of things.::

Less than two minutes later, Seymour Simmons stormed out of the hangar door. "There you are! Do you know how much trouble you've caused me, missy?"

"First, my name is Riella." She turned and stalked across the parking lot. As expected, he followed. "You seem to have difficulty remembering our names. And as long as we're on that subject, I would appreciate it if you stopped referring to us as 'NBEs' in your reports."

"You actually read those?" Simmons stared. "I knew it was you changing them! Are you crazy?"

"Hubcaps and tires, Agent." Riella stopped walking and turned around. "Or rather, to use human terminology, pot and kettle."

Simmons got a look on his face that suggested he knew he'd just been insulted, but wasn't quite sure how. "Fine. Whatever. If you don't stop screwing with my reports, I'm gonna – "

Prowl's timing, Riella noted with an internal laugh, was even more perfect than usual. It was hard for a human to even try to be intimidating when he had just been covered in colorful sticky plastic that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Simmons just stared in shock for a moment before yelling. "…You! You planned this?"

"I plan most things, Agent," Riella said sweetly, not bothering to keep the smirk off her face as she turned and walked away. "Being me has advantages."