A/N: I got nervous, so I did what I do when I get nervous. XD I wrote. My nerves are gonna eat me alive. I needed a distraction. Anyways, Sorry If I haven't PM'ed anybody back and your reading this. I've been going haywire and freaking out more than usual. XD It's kinda odd, I haven't been getting review alerts, and now, all at once, I got the reviews for this story...

REVIEWS!

Ch 1.

IBrokeThe4thWall: XD The woes of being a high caste. Social reputation is more important than anything else.

Ch 2.

Answerthecall: AWW Thank you! I'm trying sweet and adorable. Usually I'm not too good at it.

IBrokeThe4thWall: He's just watching out for poor little Silverstreak. Can we blame him? I can't write a story without involving Red somewhere. He's REALLY cute. XD

DixieChicrules123: Thank you!

Starlight Prime: Thank you very much! XD

Autobotschic: Prowl and Jazz tend to have that affect on people. XD

Ch 3.

Starlight Prime: I'll try my best!

Autobotschic: I'm not meaning to kill anybody! XD Jazz: Ah'm pretty sure if ah hug back, ah'll crush it...

Answerthecall: You didn't have to wait long! XD

kkcliffy: Wasn't it? Nobody wants to see a youngling so uncomfortable, and scared. =D

DixieChicrules123: Here it is! XD


It had been three decaorns since Jazz and Prowl turned in their files to adopt Silverstreak. Just about the amount of time for the files to be authorized. Jazz groaned as he moved yet another arms load of stuff from his and Prowl's shared office in their Private quarters. "Prowler!"

Prowl glanced up from his data pad that he was reading on the couch and smiled at Jazz. "Yes, Jazz?"

"Why aren't ya helpin'?"

"I remember asking you for help."

"Ah helped!"

"You moved one data pad."

"Ya haven't even done that!" Jazz yelled.

Prowl waved the data pad in his servos. "I have, and I am having an amazing time reading your old journal."

"Prowler!"

Prowl smiled. "Do not worry, I'll keep your crush on Blaster a secret."

"Prowl! Tha's private!"

"We are bonded, Jazz. Nothing is private."

Jazz glared at Prowl. "Fine. Mr. I'll-frag-optimus-one-orn."

Prowl's doorwings hitched. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, ah know. Ah see ya staring."

"I am not staring."

"Ya are too!"

"It is admiring! There is a difference."

Jazz snorted. "Yeah, just like ah 'admire' Arcee sometimes."

"I do not believe there are many that do not." Prowl smirked as he went back to reading his data pad.

Jazz dropped all the items in his servos at the indirect confession of Prowl's. "Ya…Ah… Ah can't believe this!"

Prowl glanced back up. "You better hurry. Ironhide is helping Ratchet bring Silverstreak's new berth, and if that office isn't cleaned out, we'll be stuck setting it up by ourselves."

Jazz sneered. "Checking out Optimus, and Arcee. What kinda bond do ah have?"

"A very loyal one. At least I haven't actually advanced on either of them. Although, there was a time Arcee pulled an advancement on me."

"Yeah, then ya opened ya mouth."

"It did go something like that." Prowl smiled.

Jazz snorted. "If bots would just get ta know ya, ah bet they'd be surprised about how laid back ya are."

Prowl smiled. "It does take a while to get past the shell, doesn't it?"

"Just a few hundred vorns." Jazz mumbled as picked up all the items he dropped. "Ya really reading mah journal?"

"'Then he looked at me, and I swear he was feeling what I was putting out.'" Prowl recited.

Jazz snorted. "Ah can't believe ah wrote that."

"My favorite part is when Blaster asked you if you were thinking what he was."

Jazz groaned as walked into his and Prowl's room. "Don't go there, Prowler."

"I won't." Prowl smiled. "I was just saying."

"Ah'm gonna find your journal one day, Prowler!"

"I never kept one, Jazz." Prowl replied. "It was illogical to keep all my thoughts and weaknesses written down for anyone who was smart enough to find and read. Much like I am doing now."

Jazz peeked out of the room at Prowl. "Ya're an evil mech."

"Just making sure I can keep you in line at any future point in time. You might decide to start going after Blaster again, and let's admit it. I don't have anything on Blaster."

Jazz smiled. "Yeah. Ya don't."

Prowl rolled his optics. "Why don't you just go bond with Blaster then?"

"Maybe ah should." Jazz walked out of the room with a thoughtful expression. "Ah don't think he'd been too keen on bein' in a trine with ya though."

Prowl shrugged. "Not many are."

Jazz smiled as walked over to Prowl and sat on his lap. "Anything else good in that old data pad?"

Prowl hummed. "Just a couple of vivid daydreams about what you wanted to do to Blaster, but other than that, not much."

Jazz laughed. "Ah was pretty naughty."

"You still are. Do not live in a delusion that the past you, and the present you are that much different."

Jazz snorted. "Ya don't know da half of it mech."

Prowl smiled. "I'm sure I don't, that's what I'm worried about."

Jazz wrapped his servos around Prowl, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Ya got nothin' to worry about besides my awfully good looks."

Prowl snorted. "Indeed." The two jumped when their quarter's door opened. Ratchet stood in the doorway with raised optic ridges.

"Fair enough, Ironhide. I owe you twenty credits."

Ironhide peeked in the room and smiled. "Told you to knock."

Jazz climbed off Prowl and smiled. "Ya two old mechs are just jealous that Prowl can get some whenever he wants."

"Too bad he never wants." Ratchet snorted as he walked into the living area. "I feel for ya, Jazz. If ya ever need me to blow the dus-"

Prowl cleared his throat. Ratchet only snorted. "Don't be a sparkling, Prowl."

Jazz laughed. "Ya two got the berth?"

"You got the credits?" Ironhide asked.

Prowl rolled his optics. "It goes back here, Ironhide."

Ratchet nodded for Ironhide to grab the berth from the hall. Ironhide nodded, walking out of the unit, returning with a crate. "One youngling berth."

Prowl led the two into the now almost empty office. Jazz's desk still sat against the wall. "Jazz, please move your desk."

"Can't."

Prowl turned to Jazz with a frown. "Excuse me?"

"Ah can't. It's kinda… welded there."

Prowl stared at Jazz with a blank expression as Ironhide snorted. Prowl sighed. "Fine. It can be Silverstreak's desk from now on. We'll just have to get you a new one. I'm not even going to ask why your desk is welded there."

Jazz smiled. "Good. Ya'll never believe me if ah told ya anyways."


The four mechs sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by metal pieces and parts. Prowl slowly stood up, and rubbed his temples. "How can putting together a youngling berth be so difficult?"

Ironhide's look of concentration slowly turned to one of horror. "Slag! I put the leg on the wrong side!"

Jazz fell back and sprawled himself over the floor. "Not again!"

Ratchet slowly stood up. "I have to go. Medical bay is waiting. I'll send Wheeljack to he-"

"No!" The three other mechs yelled in horror.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge. "Believe it or not, Wheeljack does not cause everything he touches to explode. Only his experiments. He's an engineer. If he can't put this slagging thing together, nobody can."

Prowl sighed. "Fine. Please send him here."

Ratchet nodded. "I will." He walked out of the room, leaving Ironhide, Jazz, and Prowl alone.

Ironhide sighed. "How long have we been working on this thing?"

"Four joors." Prowl sighed.

Jazz only groaned. "Ah never wanna put a berth together again!"

Ironhide snorted. "On a side note, I hear ya finally accepted Prime's offer." Ironhide smirked over to Prowl.

Jazz slowly sat up with a frown. "What offer?"

Ironhide raised an optic ridge. "You of all mechs didn't know? Ha! Optimus has been continuously asking Prowl to be his second in command for about a half a stellar cycle now."

"Wha?" Jazz glared over at Prowl. "Ya didn't tell me about that!"

"I had no plans to accept, Jazz."

"Well, ya should!"

"And I did. Yesterday. I was going to tell you over energon later on." Prowl shook his helm.

Ironhide smirked. "Well, I suppose I owe you an apology."

"No." Prowl sighed. "It's fine."

Jazz smiled. "So, ya're gonna be the second in command of the Autobot army! Congrats, Prowler!"

Prowl smiled. "Thank you, Jazz."

"So, who's gonna take over tactics?" Jazz asked.

"I will still be in charge of tactics." Prowl nodded.

"So, ya're gonna be doin' both jobs? That's a lot of work, Prowler." Jazz frowned.

Ironhide snorted. "Like Prowl can't handle it."

"Ah didn't say he couldn't handle it! Ah'm just sayin'…"

Prowl smiled. "Do not worry, Jazz. It will be fine."

"I'm here!"

Prowl turned to the door and nodded at the white, red and green mech. "Wheeljack, hello."

"I heard you had issues with a berth." Wheeljack's finnials flashed with amusement.

Prowl nodded. "Only a little."

Wheeljack's optics lit up as he walked in and examined the parts. "Oh, this will be easy! Just leave it to me!" Wheeljack crouched down, and quickly began grabbing parts, welding them into place.

Prowl shook his helm. "I have to go check on the files for Silverstreak. Jazz, stay here and help Wheeljack if he needs it."

Jazz nodded. "Alright!"


It had only taken Wheeljack one joor to succeed in what it took four mechs four joors to fail at. The berth was sitting in it's new place against the wall, and Wheeljack smiled at his handy work. "I am so good."

"Stop. Ya're just rubbing it in." Jazz pouted.

Wheeljack laughed. "hey, where'd Hide go?"

"Left 'bout half a joor ago. Said O.P called him." Jazz threw himself onto the living room couch.

Wheeljack stepped out of the youngling's room. "Oh. Too bad. I wanted him to test a new cannon."

Jazz smiled. "Well, Hide is definitely the mech for that."

Wheeljack smiled. "Yep! Well, I better go. See you around, Jazz."

"Yeah, thanks, Jackie!"

Wheeljack smiled. "Sure thing!" Wheeljack opened the door only to Jump. "Holy f- Prowl, you scared me! OH! Is this the youngling?"

Jazz jumped up and glanced over Wheeljack's shoulder. Prowl stood in the doorway, Silverstreak held on his hip. "Yes, this is Silverstreak, Wheeljack. Silverstreak, this is Wheeljack."

"Hi." Silverstreak gave Wheeljack a small wave.

"Hello. I was just leaving, so-"

"You are already finished with the berth?"

"Yep!"

Prowl frowned. "That was quick."

Jazz smiled. "Ah don't know why we didn' call Wheeljack in da first place."

"We thought he was going to blow up our home." Prowl deadpanned. "Have a nice evening, Wheeljack."

Wheeljack smiled. "Sure, Prowl."

Prowl stepped into the room, and passed Silverstreak to Jazz. "He's all ours."

Jazz smiled. "Welcome home!"

Silverstreak squirmed in Jazz's arms, signaling he wanted down. Jazz put him on the ground and allowed him take in his surroundings. Prowl pointed to the back room. "That is your room. Jazz's and mine is right over there." He pointed behind the couch. "The wash racks are right across from us."

Silverstreak nodded, slowly walking around the small military quarters. "My…room?" He stopped in front of Prowl and Jazz's previous office.

"Yep!" Jazz smiled. "All yours! Don't know what ya expected, but that place is all yours! Ya do whateva ya want with it!"

"To an extent." Prowl added. "We do ask that you ask permission before doing anything to it. You can put whatever you want in there, but if you plan on putting anything on the walls, please allow Jazz or I to help."

Silverstreak nodded. "Will…you…call me… Blue…now?"

Jazz glanced over to Prowl with a confused look. Prowl simply sighed. "Do you still wish to change your name?"

"Yes."

"May I ask why?"

Silverstreak shrugged. "I … don't…li..ke sil…ver."

Prowl frowned. "Perhaps we can make a compromise. You can change Silver to Blue, but we keep streak."

Jazz elbowed Prowl. "He ain't got no blue on him!"

Prowl snorted. "You do not like Jazz music." Prowl turned back to Silverstreak. "Is that a deal?"

Silverstreak smiled. "Yes!"

Prowl nodded. "Alright. Before that, Jazz and I will have to take you into the city. We need to find a speech therapist, and a place that can repaint your legs and wings."

Jazz glanced over to Prowl. "When do ya plan ta do that?"

"Tomorrow." Prowl answered. "I am off duty until I am officially announced as SIC. I plan to use that time to complete everything else on the list of things we have to do."

"What about me!"

Prowl glanced up at Jazz with a frown. "What about you?"

Silverstreak giggled as Jazz's face fell. Prowl smiled. "That was rude. I apologize. I have pulled some favors in, and you are off duty for the next couple of orns."

Jazz immediately perked up. "Really? So ah don't gotta do any work?"

"No, you do not."