A/N: The twins take a turn in the limelight as requested by Dragon of Dispair. Sorry for the long wait but Christmas/New year was a bit busy this time out.

Dragowolf: Don't worry Blue's gonna get in on the act later, Datsun's of the Hub unite! You have nothing to loose but the other Autobots sanity!

For all who wanted to see it, the first instalment of Prowl's Revenge is coming soon.

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Sunstreaker knew his brother was up to something. A surge of unholy glee had rippled through their bond earlier and Sideswipe had been gone far too long to just be finding a funnel. Prowl had point blank refused to allow either of them to spoon feed him, so Sunstreaker had modified Springer's method and between them he and Sideswipe had argued, annoyed and confused Prowl into talking, and the moment he'd opened his mouth they'd filled it with a spoonful of energon. Unfortunately it seemed that rest, repairs and regular energon had restored Prowl's mental capacity and he had refused to respond to anything they had said or done this time round. This left the twins only one option for getting energon into the tactician, opening his emergency fuel port and pouring the energon in. They'd split more than half a cube before Sideswipe had left in search of a funnel.

Sunstreaker gave his twin a long searching look as he bounced through the door, a fresh energon cube held in one hand and brandishing a funnel in the other. There was no hint of planned mischief on his face but the glint in his optics made Sunstreaker slightly unsettled. Wasting no more time, Sunstreaker leaned over and snatched the funnel from his twins grip and inserted it into the valve with a little bit more force than was strictly necessary. Prowl flinched and then glared at him but made no sound. As Sideswipe began to pour the energon in, Prowl stiffened and offlined his optics, presenting the very picture of martyred endurance and patience, any lingering doubts Sunstreaker had about Sideswipe's intentions were blown away a breem later when Prowl suddenly went limp and the reading on the med bunk indicated he was offline.

"What have you done?" Sunstreaker demanded.

"Relax my Distrusting Daffodil of Doom," Sideswipe grinned, dodging the half sparked blow Sunstreaker aimed at his head "it's just a little sedative in his energon, enough to keep him under for the rest of our watch."

"Why?" Sunstreaker asked suspiciously. He could feel Sideswipe's rising amusement and the gleam in his optics was growing more noticeable.

For an answer Sideswipe left the room, returning after half a breem with a large box stuffed with paint tins, brushes, thin wire, craft tools and an assortment of thin metal sheets in a rainbow of colours.

"Well," Sideswipe said, a wide grin splitting his face "it struck me that Sparkling here must get very bored staring at these plain walls all day."

Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge at his twin; he thought he knew where this was going.

"So, I thought we could, maybe… brighten it up a bit for him." Sideswipe finished, and he let Sunstreaker see what he had in mind through their bond.

A wicked grin split Sunstreaker's face. He looked over the recumbent form of his former CO with an artist's optics and consideration before reaching for a tin of paint.

Scoop came into the repair bay at a jog; he was late for his shift of Prowl-watching. Someone had been through all the storage holds and messed up the cargo manifests, he and Road Buster had spent a lot of time setting it all back to rights.

"Sorry I'm late guys." Scoop called out.

There was no reply and as he came to the door of the room where Prowl was, he saw someone had hung up a sign:

Silence, Sparkling recharging inside.

Grinning, Scoop walked through the door and nearly swallowed his vocalizer at the state of the room.

The ceiling was now midnight blue, decorated with gold and silver stars, mimicking the constellations as they would look from Praxus. Suspended from the ceiling were a number of mobiles made from wire and thin coloured metal shapes, which chimed softly as they danced in the breeze from the air vents. The walls sported little frescos of scenes from Cybertronian myths and stories, in beautiful calligraphy across three sides of the room ran the complete Cybertronian alphabet.

Scoop admired the décor and wondered which twin had done what, before allowing himself to contemplate the undoubted masterpiece of the collection, Prowl himself. He was painted crest to toe in a pastel light blue, onto which, with painstaking attention to detail, figures of native animals, and more figures from legend and miniature portraits of Autobots both in robot and alternate mode had been painted.

The twins were nowhere to be seen but a note had been left, tucked under the corner of an empty energon cube. Scoop picked it up and read it. Laughing quietly to himself he sat down in the large battered soft chair that had been moved in to wait for Prowl to come back online.

Topspin was catching up on his own paperwork and stock taking when he heard a scream from the direction of Prowl's room. He started towards the room when he clearly heard Prowl yelling the twin's names and a litany of threats, curses, and comments on their possible ancestry, their likely personal habits and their probable life expectancy. Deciding that some things he just didn't want to know he returned to his desk, mulling over Prowl's words he concluded that whatever else two things were certain; this wouldn't be the last time the twins pulled some kind of stunt on Prowl and, when it came, Prowl's revenge would be terrible, utter and complete.