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Let's Not...
(4) Cuddle Bluestreak in public. It might not be him...
"One to the left, the other is straight ahead" Sunstreaker whispered over the communication link peering into the room where his target was standing chatting.
"Good" Sideswipe replied shuffling into the room unnoticed by the other ARK residents as he crept around the two targets, systems running quietly as he stalked into position.
"Ready?" the golden twin asked, crouching to charge at his prey.
"On three" Sideswipe nodded from his shaded corner, making a frantic quiet motion as Jazz spotted him. "One, Two… Two and a half… Sunny?"
"What?" the front liner snapped over the private communication line "Say three already!"
"Two and three quarters…" Sideswipe said skittishly as Jazz suddenly made a panicked stop motion as he twigged onto what they were about to do to the innocently chatting Bluestreak, who was quietly discussing something with a similarly oblivious Smokescreen. "Three!"
"Twin hug!" Sideswipe shouted as both twins pounced onto the grey Praxian with a war cry.
Every mech and his drinking buddy jumped in their chairs or in Cliffjumper's case falling off backwards choking on his afternoon energon as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe tackled Bluestreak with a startled yelp coming from the gunner.
"We got you Blue!" Sideswipe crowed proudly at their favourite gunner sandwiched between them.
"How so?" came an amused innocent voice from… behind them?
Both front liners turned their helms to see the grinning form of Bluestreak standing with Bumblebee at the entrance to the Rec-Room holding a stack of data-pads, both younger mechs snickering at the now bewildered Twins.
"Then… who do we have?" Sunstreaker asked looking down at their captured friend only for his last sight of the day to be a grey fist slamming into his faceplates.
Sideswipe squealed as his pede was stomped on and leapt away cursing up a storm as the unknown bot snarled at the still online twin as Sunstreaker's offline frame tumbled to the floor.
"And just WHAT do you think you're doing?" Prowl snarled stamping a pede, his faceplate contorted in rage, his usually black and white paint scheme a thunderous storm grey.
"You're not Bluestreak!" Sideswipe cried pointing at the furious SIC that flared his wings into a sharp 'v' of annoyance as the red and ebony front liner hopped around the Rec-Room trying to soothe his aching pede.
"Your powers of observation are astounding" Prowl snarked dryly as Bluestreak trotted to his mentors side with a cheeky smile, both looking like mirror images, the only difference between them Prowl's pointier chevron and muderous scowl.
"Prowl was undercover in the Decepticon base." the actual Bluestreak chatted as if Sunstreaker wasn't sprawled on the floor obviously in need of a medic. "He just got back and is waiting for a repaint!"
"We ran out of Black and white paint." Jazz pouted from where he was admiring Prowl's angry puffed up form, mentally comparing the SIC to a bird that was fluffing up its feathers in agitation, less he also end up with a dent the size of Prowl's fist in his faceplate like the golden Twin on the floor currently sported. "Prowl isn't quite innocent and chatty enough to carry off his Bluestreak disguise."
The grey gunner chirred in amusement as Prowl's icy glare remained pinned on the now cringing Sideswipe, the claws that the SIC still sported from his disguise suddenly pointing at the golden mech in front of him.
"Him, Medbay. You. Collect Mr. Bucket and Mrs. Mop from the storage cupboard, clean the Brig and then put yourself in it!" the tactician growled, optics flaring almost white as he barked out his orders and the Twin's punishment.
"Aww, not Mrs. Mop!" the front liner whined as he grabbed his brother by the arms and began to drag Sunstreaker out of the Rec-Room the bots within snickering every pedestep of the way "I hate Mrs. Mop!"
"Would you prefer, Miss. Toothbrush instead?"