Humming absently to himself, Jazz slid in to the wash racks. He'd spent much of the day out running recon with Bumblebee away from the base, and the dust from the roads had been nearly thick enough to choke his engine. Bumblebee had been just as dusty, but mentioned something about finding Sam and Mikaela first. Jazz had briefly considered going with to beg a wash (as Bumblebee undoubtedly had in mind) but decided not to burden them. Bumblebee was dirty enough that it would be ages before they had a chance to do him, and he wanted to be clean now.

It was strange having the facilities to himself. Usually there was at least one or two other bots in at the same time, but the other teams sent out hadn't reported in yet and Jazz really didn't feel like waiting for them. He could get clean enough on his own, even if it was nice having someone else to scrub his back struts. Without paying too much attention, Jazz palmed the sensor to start the water running. He reached for the cleanser as the water started to sluice down and then paused, frowning. The water was…green? And sticky. He quickly backed away from the showerhead, looking up for the source.

And that's when the ceiling opened up.


A very sticky and unhappy Jazz stumbled out from the wash racks, sputtering and dripping globs of something green and wiggly.

"Whoa," Sam exclaimed, stepping back a few paces with his hands up, "what happened to you?"

Mikaela ran a finger down a portion of Jazz's leg armor and brought it to her mouth. "Lime." She announced thoughtfully, licking her finger. "Looks like you've been Jell-o'd, Jazz."

"Y' can help me clean up." Jazz suggested, leering at her. Mikaela laughed.

"Hey mech, hands off. She's my girl." Sam said in mock affront. Jazz just grinned at him, his customary good humor quickly restored.

"What, your mama never taught ya t' share?" He taunted. "Thought you two would be wit' 'Bee already."

"We were just getting cleaning supplies," Mikaela explained, still smiling. "How did you end up covered in Jell-o anyways?"

"Funny story, that…" Jazz drawled.

"I thought all the pranksters were on patrol duty and missions today." Sam said thoughtfully.

"We were," Sideswipe said from behind the group. He let out a low, impressed whistle at the green splattered scene. "Hey Jazz," Sideswipe said. "What happened to you?"

"Wash racks malfunction," Jazz replied cheerfully. "'s called 'Jell-o'. Humans like the stuff. Wanna taste?"

"Pass," Sideswipe replied, snickering.

"That's disgusting." Sunstreaker said, eyeing the wiggling foodstuff with undisguised revulsion.

"Wasn't 'xactly my idea." Jazz cocked an optic ridge at Sideswipe curiously.

"Hey, wasn't me," the known prankster protested, his hands up in denial. "I've been on patrol all day with Sunny."

"Sunstreaker," the golden twin corrected almost absently, attention still riveted to Jazz's frame. "You really need to clean that off," he said critically. "Who knows what it'll do to your finish."

"You offerin' t' help?"

Sunstreaker took a few hasty steps back. "No way." He said flatly.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to ruin your perfect paintjob." Sideswipe taunted. "I'll help you out." He offered Jazz a suggestive smirk, one hand hovering over the saboteur's jell-o splattered arm. Jazz grinned back easily, but was interrupted before he had a chance to reply.

"You still need to make your report to Prime, Sideswipe." Prowl said calmly from behind him, regarding the silver mech and his twin with a steady gaze.

"Aw, c'mon Prowl, have a spark." Sideswipe whined. Sunstreaker snorted.

"Let's go, afthead." He said, shoving his brother towards the command deck. "I want to get this over with so I can find a working set of wash racks."

"There is something wrong with the wash racks?" Prowl asked politely.

"Not if you're lookin' for somethin' sweet!" Jazz said cheerfully enough. "Like m' new duds?" He twirled for Prowl to show off the slimy streaks of green covering his chassis.

"Interesting," Prowl said neutrally. "Sideswipe?"

"Aren't you off-duty right now?" Sideswipe asked Prowl. Prowl just Looked at him, and Sideswipe sighed dramatically. "I'm going, I'm going." Sideswipe muttered something similar to 'slave driver' and trooped off with his brother.

"I don't suppose you have any idea of who the culprit might be," Prowl asked Jazz as he took in the mess of green all over both mech and floor. Jazz hesitated a brief second before smiling easily.

"'Fraid not." He admitted. "All the regulars have alibis. An' I've been off base most o' the day."

"Honestly Jazz, you must be getting rusty." Mikaela teased. "Aren't you supposed to be a saboteur?"

"Hey, now" Jazz replied, not once losing his confident grin, "even th' best have an off day."

"Let us hope that doesn't extend to official missions." Prowl said dryly.

"Nah, I've been had once, 'm good now." Jazz replied with a cheeky smile. Sam and Mikaela laughed outright at that, but Prowl simply regarded Jazz with an even expression. Jazz had the fleeting idea to 'accidentally' bump in to Prowl in an attempt to get him to wash up with him when little Annabelle rounded the corner in a trot.

Annabelle took in the jell-o splattered Jazz with wide blue eyes. Then she frowned, her hands on her hips in a move eerily similar to another blonde Lennox. "You shouldn't play with your food, Jazz." She scolded, her young voice almost perfectly capturing her mother at her worst. "There's starvin' kids in Af-er-ka!"

"Come on," Mikaela said, her voice full of laughter as she shook her head. "Sam and I'll give you a proper wash. I think you need it more than 'Bee right now."

"I'll help too!" Annabelle offered enthusiastically.

"Go on," Prowl told Jazz, his attention on the sticky mess on the floor, "I'll have this taken care of."

"Thanks, Prowler." Jazz said with some relief, squashing his brief disappointment as he moved to follow the three humans. Prowl likely wouldn't have agreed to his idea anyways, he consoled himself. Especially with a culprit to catch.


Prowl watched as the foursome trooped out of sight and then turned to regard the mess with a solemn expression. Wordlessly, he pulled out his pre-prepared rag and cleaning solution that he had been assured would clean the most stubborn of gelatin. He had just settled in to get to work when he received a ping over his comm. ::Prowl here.::

::Prowl, I realize you're off-duty right now, but something has come up. Could you please report to my office?:: Optimus' voice was apologetic, but Prowl could hear the order clearly.

::Yes, sir,:: Prowl replied. He looked at the mess and winced. ::Sir, the wash racks…::

::They can wait.:: Optimus said firmly. ::Block off the hall for now. This matter won't take long.::

::Yes, sir. I'll be right there.::


"You're covered in this stuff, Jazz." Mikaela commented, wrinkling her nose.

"What, s'not a good look for me?" Jazz replied, adopting a hurt tone. Mikaela whipped her rag at him in response.

"I wonder who could have done it," Sam said idly as he hosed the Solstice down with cold water. "Everyone was pretty tied up today. I think even Prowl will have a hard time finding the culprit."

"Mm," Mikaela agreed, but her expression was thoughtful. "Well," she said cheerfully, "I'm sure if anyone can, it's Prowl."

Jazz laughed. "Ain't that the truth. Hey, watch where y' spray!" Sam, whose attention had been wandering, jerked the nozzle back on target. As Mikaela began to gently tease Sam for his inattention, Jazz turned his processor back to the problem of just who was to blame for today's mess. But Sam was right; everyone who would've had the slightest inclination towards pranks had some sort of alibi for today. Really, the only one with the time and know-how would have to be…but no, he wouldn't have. Prowl had better things to do than plan random pranks. In fact, Prowl and prank didn't even belong in the same sentence. Jazz wondered briefly if it was possible for gelatin to damage logic circuits. There had to be something wrong with his processor if he was even entertaining the thought. But even still, he couldn't help but wonder…

Well, there was no help for it now. More information would come to light soon enough; he just had to be patient. 'Bee was certainly patient enough, but that was the yellow Camaro all over. When Jazz had pulled in, completely covered in green goo, he had cheerfully deferred his own wash in favor of letting the humans start on Jazz. And Jazz, despite his outward easy-going acceptance of his current state of disarray, was very grateful. He might make light of being covered in organic goo, but the stuff really wasn't all that pleasant. And it would be worse given a chance to dry, he was sure.

Mikaela and Sam, well versed in the art of washing Autobots, were as competent as any professional attendants. And Annabelle for all her size was nearly as capable, diligently scrubbing wheel wells while her elders took care of areas she couldn't reach. And if the water often fell on human skin as well as cybertronian metal, well, it was a hot day and the splashing made the job more fun. Bumblebee even got in on the action, transforming to root mode and stealing Sam's hose to give all four a thorough drenching. Jazz shook with laughter as their human companions screeched, the sound somewhere between outrage and laughter.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe showed up soon after, both loudly demanding washes as well if the humans were going to be giving them out. Annabelle pounced on Sideswipe with a sopping wet sponge, attempting to tickle his undercarriage with her furious attack. Sideswipe obliged her with laughter, and Jazz had the feeling it wasn't all pretend. Certain parts of his undercarriage could be quite sensitive, and little Annabelle had very clever fingers. Then Sam, lifting a pail of dirty water that needed to be changed, tripped and dumped it over Sunstreaker's hood.

All was quiet for a bare minute as the assembled cast of humans (and bots) held their collective breath (and intakes). Sunstreaker then said, very quietly, that someone had better clean that off right now.

Mikaela turned her hose on him, drenching him completely. Sideswipe howled with laughter, which prompted the woman to turn her makeshift weapon on him.

The splashing and laughter quickly drew curious onlookers, and soon what seemed like half the base's population had converged on the impromptu car wash turned water fight.

Bumblebee started blaring Christina Aguilera's 'Car Wash' from his speakers, despite Sam's loud protestations. It didn't help much when Epps and Graham started singing along. Especially as they didn't seem to know all the words, but were perfectly content making new ones up.

When a mud-splattered Hound and Mirage showed up (one quite cheerful about the whole thing, and the other quite not), it quickly turned in to a free-for-all.


The matter in question that required Prowl regarded some intel that the Corvette twins had brought back, and took nearly an hour. Prowl returned to the hallway, pleased to find it untouched. He was less pleased to find that much of the liquid Jell-o had set in to the floor. The solid stuff from the ceiling trap was easy enough to clean, but the sticky liquid that had sprayed from the showerhead clung to the cement with a vengeance. On his knees, Prowl settled in to scrub.

Jazz, his plating gleaming from his recent wash, found him like that not too long after. The silver mech nearly stalled, and he rebooted his optics several times. "Prowler?"

Prowl glanced up briefly, startled, before turning his attention back to the stained cement. "Jazz," he greeted with his customary aplomb. "The wash racks aren't in service quite yet, but I don't think you have need of them anymore."

"Nah," Jazz replied, "The kids did a pretty good job on me."

"Samuel and Mikaela have not been children by their species' standards for several solar cycles now." Prowl noted. Jazz grinned at him.

"Yeah, but they'll always be 'th' kids' to me." He replied cheerfully. "Whatcha down there for? I thought you were gonna 'have that taken care of', not do it yourself."

"As you know," Prowl said calmly, his optics firmly on the task at hand, "we do not currently have a culprit. It would be unfair to assign the task to a bot who is blameless. Unless, of course, you have information or suspicions you have neglected to share?" He finally looked up at Jazz with an optic ridge raised inquiringly.

Jazz firmly suppressed the preposterous suspicions floating in his mind. "Nope, none." He replied glibly, and he half believed it himself. Prowl nodded shortly and turned his attention back to his task. "But, y'still don't have to do it yourself." Jazz pointed out.

"The cleaning staff has enough to do already," Prowl replied, "and I have some time."

"Huh." Jazz mulled that over for a moment, and then plopped down beside Prowl. "Got an extra one o' those?"

"Your help is appreciated, but unnecessary."

"Hey, s' kinda my mess too." Jazz pointed out. "I was the one th' prank was aimed at, after all."

"Jazz, it's fine." Prowl said without looking up. "You were the victim; you should hardly feel responsible."

"Yeah," Jazz agreed, "but I got some time." He flashed Prowl a grin. "Lemme help y' out."

Prowl finally looked up, his expression considering. Then he smiled. It was a small smile, barely there at all, but it still made Jazz's spark sing. "Very well," Prowl said, offering the silver mech a clean rag. Jazz took it with a flourish and settled in to work. "Thank you," Prowl said quietly.

Jazz grinned at him, bumping his shoulder against the larger bot companionably. "Hey, no prob." He said cheerfully. "What're friends for?"

"Hm." Prowl said, that tiny smile still hovering over his lip plates.


"You have only just got clean," Prowl pointed out reasonably a few minutes later. Jazz paused to tilt his helm at the tactician curiously. "Helping me will inevitably result in mucking up your plating again."

"Well," Jazz said, his visor lighting up with mischief, "we'll just have t' make sure t' take a spin through the repaired wash racks." He paused, grinning. "Tell ya what: you scrub my back struts an' I'll do yours."

Prowl regarded him silently for a long moment before nodding briefly. "That seems acceptable." He said to Jazz's obvious delight.


"It's a shame the camera near the wash racks glitched this afternoon," Red Alert said, his tone suffused with mock-sadness. "Now we may never discover just who executed that horrible prank on Jazz."

"Yes, it certainly is terrible." Optimus agreed with a perfectly straight face. "Good of Prowl to take on the cleaning himself."

"He is quite thoughtful. We're lucky to have such a responsible officer."

The two regarded each other soberly for a long moment. Then Optimus' lip components twitched and the moment was ruined. Red Alert chuckled ruefully and Optimus full-out laughed.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Red Alert asked once his commander had calmed himself.

"I have the utmost faith in Prowl," Optimus said serenely. "It'll all be settled within the week."

Red Alert made a rude noise. "Two days." He countered. "Prowl is very persistent." He paused. "And Jazz isn't that dense." Optimus promptly started laughing again.


A/N: The author does not in any way condone the use of Jell-o in shower stalls. Remember kids, do not try this at home. (Or at least, don't mention my name. But send me pictures! I MEAN NO. DON'T DO IT. REALLY.)