A/N: I'm baaa~aaack! Here's some more epic crack(fic)!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Transformers franchise in any way, shape, or form… And I probably never will…but I own some toys and videos. T.T

"Blah"- normal speech

/Blah/-comm. Link

:/Blah :/ -twin bond

Now, on with the story!

_Starting the Fic LINE BREAK_

Okay, even Prowl had to admit this had become slightly ridiculous. It had been a month since the last Decepticon attack and almost as long since the fight with his brother, Jazz. They didn't talk outside of work, and even then they found ways to avoid having to speak with each other directly. Usually, their sibling disagreements didn't last this long, and for it to have gone on for an entire human month (which seemed a lot longer now that they were on earth), it wasn't a good sign. And the whole thing was over something so mundane, too…

_Flashback LINEBREAK_

Prowl was in his office, per usual, reading the post-battle reports. He vented as he read over what was now termed the "Fuzzy Doom" incident. Out on the battlefield, Sideswipe's improvised weapon had seemed an amusing advantage, the material clogging the Decepticon's inner workings with the added benefit of being distracting enough to render them useless once Sideswipe got to them. However, in writing… it was just an embarrassment. Prowl was tempted to 'face-palm' (a term Jazz learned from the humans) as he read over the report and signed off on it. He picked up his personal datapad, hoping to rid himself of the feeling with something much more enjoyable.

Suddenly, the door to his office opened and his brother swaggered in (yes, swaggered) and proceeded to… bounce step over to his desk.

"Jazz, how many times have I told you to wait for acknowledgement before entering my office?" Prowl asked without looking up from what he was doing.

Jazz paused mid-bounce (because the Jazz could never just plain walk… and Prowl had quite trying to figure out the issue with walking back on Cybertron) and thought about it a moment.

"Um, Ah lost count 'round the two millionth five hundred thousandth six hundred and thirty eighth time…" he said cheerfully as he strolled around the desk to look over his adopted brother's shoulder.

"My point exactly, and that is why you need to stop doing it," Prowl said, looking up to glare stoically (because Prowl had long since mastered the art of doing everything stoically) over his shoulder guard at the mech.

"But Prooowlerrr~! Then Ah wouldn't get ta mess with ya as much as Ah do!" Jazz whined as he draped himself between Prowl's doorwings dramatically.

"Precisely," Prowl responded, shrugging off the other black and white. "And stop calling me that," he added, going back to his work.

Jazz picked himself up off the floor and, being the curious mech he was, looked over Prowl's shoulder at the datapad he was working on. Prowl quickly turned off the datapad, flipped it upside down, and looked at Jazz.

"What?" he snapped [stoically] at the grinning saboteur.

"Whatcha got there, Prowler?" Jazz teased, reaching for the datapad, only for Prowl to hold it out of reach.

"It's none of your concern. Now please leave," Prowl said, a slight frown pulling at his lip plating.

"Ah wanna see what ya got on the 'pad! What is it ya dun want meh ta see? Ya got pics o' some pretty femmes? Or maybe mechs? Both? Come on, lemme see!" Jazz complained, reaching over the struggling doorwinger and snatching said datapad from his grasp. Onlining it, Jazz flinched, horrified at the sight that greeted him.

"No, Prowler, NO! Why, mech? Ah thought ya had stopped all this nonsense the last time Ah got rid of ya collection! Ya are not bringin' these pit-spawned things back into this base!" Jazz practically screamed with terror at his brother as he dropped the datapad like it was covered in cosmic rust.

"It is none of your business what I like or collect for my personal quarters," Prowl declared coolly as he scooped up the datapad.

"There are more o' those in ya quarters?!" Jazz screeched, visor glimmering in revulsion.

"Yes. And you better leave them alone." Prowl said, glaring stoically at his brother's frozen figure.

A full frame shiver rattled Jazz's plating as he imaged it.

"Prowl, those things are Unicron's spawns! Ya have ta get rid of 'em!" Jazz pleaded

"You will not touch them, Jazz!" Prowl practically growled, doorwings flared and quivering in anger as he chose to let his stoic image slip. His brother just gave him a look before fleeing the office as if he were being chased by a pack of wild turbo-hounds.

A few orns later, returning to his quarters at the end of his shift, Prowl noticed some of his collection had disappeared. He had confronted Jazz immediately and the following argument had caused several mechs to go into hiding out of fear of being caught in the crossfire. That was around the time they had started ignoring each other, not looking at one another in meetings or even when passing in the hall, tense words exchanged only if absolutely necessary, and overall generally ice-cold auras that sent shivers down any mech that saw them…

_Ending Flashback LINE BREAK_

Prowl was startled from his thoughts as the proximity alarm sounded and Red Alert's frantic warning of a Decepticon attack rang over the general comm. He refrained from scowling as he swiftly made his way to the control center where it was tightly controlled chaos as Autobots raced for defensive positions. Quickly, Prowl made his way over to where Optimus Prime was standing.

"What's the situation so far, sir?"

"Prowl, you're here, good. The Decepticons have already bypassed the outer defenses. Red Alert is tracking their movements now and surveillance shows they're about 5 clicks out from the front entrance to the ARK. Emergency lockdown has been initiated, but we both know that it won't last for long against a full assault, which is what scans are indicating is headed our way. Troops are mostly drones, but there is indication of one of the gestalt teams with them."

With a nod of his helm, Prowl swiftly linked with the terminal and got to work. A doorwing twitched in slight exasperation. It was looking like this would be a long orn…

_Initiating Battle LINE BREAK_

The battle wasn't looking good.

Prowl growled a bit under his intakes, lifting his acid rifle to shoot another two drones that got a bit too close. The Decepticons had gotten further in faster than they had anticipated, and a few suicide drones later, the outer sensors of the ARK were too damaged to provide accurate battle data. Thus, Prowl was forced to find a way outside and into cover to be able to provide a feasible plan of action to prevent their imminent destruction. Unfortunately, it was looking like this would be their last stand. Shockwave's drones were just that numerous, and the few actually mecha the Decepticons had sent were smart enough (for once) to hide back behind the lines. Naturally, Prowl knew that wouldn't last long, what with the purple branded slag-heads' battle lust, but right now the drones were wearing the Autobot forces down.

Already, Ratchet had had to drag Cliffjumper away to inside the ARK with critical injuries, and Prowl estimated about 89% of the remaining mecha had more than a few minor damages with 24.62% sustains potentially major damages that would only worsen. He needed to find a way to end this now, before it went critical.

Of course, Primus was laughing at him as he thought that, because at that moment the Decepticons (the non-drones ones) decided that they had enough hiding and surged forward with battle roars. Scanning the area quickly, he realized that most of the drones had been eliminated, with only 14% of the original number remaining, which he quickly had Bluestreak help him take out with a half-dozen good shots from each of them. Now to deal with the purple branded femmes…

Just as Prowl went to give the orders to engage, an explosion sounded from behind him, and Prowl's optics widened as he looked back at the ARK where it had come from. There, standing proudly in front of a mostly destroyed vent, was Jazz, an impossible grin splitting his face-plating and an enormous, electric blue cannon strapped over his shoulder…

/Jazz! What are you doing?!/ Prowl practically shouted (well, as much as Prowl can shout) through the comms.

/Thought Ah'd give 'em a taste of Jackie's new weapon. And Ah had the perfect ammo for this baby, too, so just stand back an' watch my mechs!/ Jazz's grin could be heard even in the comm. line.

"YO! Decepti-creeps! Come get some!" And with that, Jazz leapt onto a boulder and began to shoot something at the Decepticons. Something very familiar to Prowl. Something that made Prowl's optics widen in shock…

"Jazz! What are you doing?! STOP!" Prowl screamed, dropping all pretenses of being a calm and collected commander. Disregarding everything, Prowl ran forward to stop his brother… but it was too late.

Prowl could only watch in horror as his Beanie Baby collection was used as ammo and shot at the Decepticons, only to burst into tiny pieces of fluff on impact…

_A Remorseful Little LINE BREAK_

Prowl walked slowly through the recent battlefield, pausing here and there to bend down and collect a scrap of cloth or a bit of fluff. His doorwings hung low on his back, his optics wide and a dark blue. If he were human, he would be crying. Approaching one particularly large crater, Prowl gasped upon seeing the severed head of one of his bears. With a pitiful wail, he fell to his knees and sobbed into his servos…

"Prowler, bro, cut it out. Ya scarin' all the other mechs," Prowl stiffened at the voice of the traitor that had caused this slaughter.

Turning, Prowl's vents hitched as he cast accusing optics on his –former–brother.

"H-how could you d-do this? I-" Prowl's vocalizer hitched on another sob.

Jazz glared at the doorwinger on the ground as he spoke, "It was for ya own good, Prowler. Ah'm tellin' ya, those things are Unicron's spawn. Ah don't understand how ya like 'em. Ah swear they stare at meh whenever Ah go near 'em, and the obsession ya have wit 'em can't be healthy. Ah did ya a favor gettin' rid of 'em!"

"… I don't know you anymore." Prowl turned away from the other black and white.

"Prowler…" Jazz sighed.

"NO! Don't you 'Prowler' ME!" Prowl shouted, suddenly furious, as he stood and turned back to Jazz to poke the other in the chest plating. "You're the slagger who used MY Beanie Baby collection as ammo for Wheeljack's new weapon! Do you even know how many rare Beanies I had managed to collect?! Do you know how much my collection was WORTH?! No, of course you don't, because you're nothing but a dim-sparked FRAGGER that was terrified by inanimate objects!"

"They were slagging FREAKY! Don't blame me for getting rid of them, since obviously YOU weren't going to do it anytime soon! And yes, for your information, I do know how much those pit-spawned THINGS were worth! That's part of the reason I DID THIS! You spent way too much on those fragging Beanies as it was! You were obsessed! I had to get rid of them!" Jazz shouted back, anger making him drop the accent he was fond of.

"That wasn't your decision to MAKE! If I want to spend MY credits on something you think is worthless, then it is MY CHOICE, isn't it?!" Prowl shouted back, doorwings flared and servos clenched into fists.

A wrench flew out of nowhere to clang both mechs on the helm before the shouting match could continue.

"Cut it out, you slagging glitches! You're scaring the others!" Ratchet said, annoyed as he continued to work on patching up a shaking Bumblebee who was watched the two officers argue with scared optics.

Jazz sighed as he ran a servo over his face-plating. "Ah'm sorry, Prowler," he finally said, "Ah just don' like ta see ya doin' somethin' Ah think is bad for ya. Ah'll try ta explain next time instead o' goin' crazy and destroying ya stuff…"

Prowl sighed too, angry posture deflating, "I was also being immature, Jazz. I should have been willing to see things from your point of view instead of letting this silly thing come between us. I will forgive you for destroying my collection this time, but I ask you do not fault me for my odd habits, just as I do not fault you for-"

Jazz casually covered his brother's lip-plating with his servo. "Ah ah ah, Prowler, don' go and be given out all mah secrets now. That's not very nice, mech."

Prowl glared, "And what you did to Baystars Bear wasn't very nice."

"Ah said Ah was sorry!"

"Whatever."

"'Whatever'? 'Whatever'?! What do ya mean 'whatever'?! Ah thought ya said ya forgave me?!" Jazz cried.

"That does not mean I will let you forget it."

"Ya always so mean to meh, Prowler…" Jazz whined.

Prowl mock sneered, "I find quite enjoyable."

Jazz just laughed as he threw an arm over his brother's shoulder guard. The two black and whites headed back into the ARK, not paying any mind to the frozen mecha around them.

Ratchet sighed, "Those two slaggers give me a processor-ache. Ironhide! Get your sorry aft over here and help me get these glitches to the med bay so I can properly fix them!" Ironhide jumped a bit before going over to do as the grouchy medic ordered.

Sideswipe watched the doorwinger leave with a goofy glint in his optics. Sunstreaker took one look at his brother and smirked.

:/Look at that. Prowl likes toy bears, too. Now you can't tease me for Mr. Furball anymore~! :/

:/Untrue. I can tease you all I want. Now, I just have more information on Prowl to use to my advantage… muahahaha… :/

:/I so totally knew you liked him. :/

_End Chapter LINE BREAK_

A/N: Oh, Primus... I amused myself way too much with this one~ I hope you enjoyed! And remember, Reviews are magically delicious! ... That was a really weird thing to write/say... ^,^' Ja ne!