A/N This chapter is dedicated to my best friend on and off fanfiction, no cool pen names available. She is not, unfortunately, a huge fan of Transformers, but she has seen the live action movies with me and does like them. So she only really knows those few Autobots who were in the movies. Maybe this will confuse her.
Oh, and I will be going off to camp this weekend for two weeks, so the next update, which will be a continuation of this chapter, might be a bit later.
Disclaimer: JaAm does not own Transformers. Sadly.
Click
The sound, though not very loud, woke Prowl from his recharge. Primary functions were reactivated and he slowly onlined his optics as he raised his head from his desk. He pushed himself up and took a scan of his room, groggily searching for whatever it was that had made the noise. There was just the slight feeling in the air, the one that told Prowl something was not right. He glanced down at the datapads neatly stacked on his left, then to the far larger unorganized pile on his right. Some of them had even fallen to the floor. Prowl reached down and picked them up, stacking them back up on his desk. He rubbed his optics, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He must have fallen in recharge late into the night. It wasn't uncommon, and he hadn't slept in days because of his workload. But what had woken him up?
Prowl stood up, doorwings stretching out behind him before settling down in a more dignified position. His internal chronometer told him that it was just before five, not much earlier than when he would wake up, if he even slept. He looked around his office once more. Something had to have made that sound, obviously. The niggling feeling remained, and even his dermal plating tingled. Prowl tried to push the thought aside as just morning nerves.
Prowl strode across the room and the door slid aside for him. His shift started in an hour, so he might as well get his morning ration before the more rowdy of the crew onlined. When he got a few steps away from his office, the door slid shut again with a soft click.
Prowl whirled around to it, recognizing it as the sound that had woken him up. His battle computer activated involuntarily and had already produced a likely scenario for this strange morning. Someone had broken in to his office. But who? And for that matter, why?
"Sideswipe..." Prowl nearly growled. He turned on his heel and headed towards the warrior's room, certain he would be there. If Sideswipe was indeed responsible, Prowl had a good many punishments in mind for him. But what exactly had he done? Nothing in his room was changed. Then he remembered the haphazard pile of datapads. Prowl always kept everything neat and orderly. But surely if Sideswipe had knocked them over, he would've woken the tactician then, not when the door shut. As soon as Prowl located him, Sideswipe would be in for a heavy questioning.
Prowl kept a steady pace throughout his wondering. As he rounded a corner, he spotted Hound walking his way, morning ration already in hand. Hound skidded to a stop when he saw Prowl, optics wide.
"Um, good morning Prowl. You feeling alright?" The scout asked warily.
"Quite, thank you." Prowl responded curtly, and passed him by. Hound continued to stare as he walked, but Prowl paid him no mind. Finally coming to the twins' shared room, he rapped sharply at their door.
A low moan was heard through the door, then a muffled thump. Sunstreaker yelled something inane at Sideswipe before the slow clang of footsteps headed towards the door. It slid open, and a sleepy grimace met Prowl's optics.
"Sideswipe, I wish to speak to you about-"
"Prowl! What happened to you?" The red warrior all but yelled, now fully awake.
"I haven't the slightest idea what..." Prowl trailed off as he, for the first time that day, bothered to glance down at himself. Where there was once pristine black and white plating, there was now a garish, neon green. It covered him, helm to pede, except for his face. Prowl stared down in shock. He was not usually overly concerned with his paint job, which was why he had not noticed in the first place, but this was too much. Trying to retain some semblance of dignity, Prowl, stepped inside the brothers' quarters.
"Sideswipe. What is the meaning of this?" He said through a strained vocalizer.
But Sideswipe could no longer hear him. He was doubled up in laughter, clutching his sides and calling for his brother.
"What do you want?" Sunstreaker rolled rolled over on his berth and planted both feet on the ground. He looked towards them and his optics went wide. A giggle escape him, before he, too, broke into hysterics. "P-Prowl! You're-"
"I know what color I am! I want to know what you two had to do with it!"
Sideswipe, still gasping for air to cool his quickly overheating internal mechanisms, pointed at the tactician. "Can you get- pfft -me the designation of the bot who did this? I have a few- snicker -targets in mind for him."
"A little respect for your superior officer, maybe?" Prowl intoned.
Sideswipe stood up with barely contained giggles. "Oh, I'm sorry," He placed his hands on his hips. "Who dared to paint our SIC like a walking green screen?" He broke into laughter again, his brother looking on in amusement.
Prowl crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't fool me Sideswipe."
"You think I did this? Please," Sideswipe looked as though he were being insulted. "This is amateur. Simple-minded and easy."
"Which points directly to you."
"Believe what you want Prowl, but I didn't have a hand in this one. Kinda wishing I did though. Tracks would look great in pink."
Prowl huffed and left the twins' quarters, a loud "Good morning to you too, Prowl!" called out behind him as he left. He placed a finger on his forearm and scratched at it. The neon green paint didn't even chip. He opened a comm to Optimus Prime.
"Optimus?" Prowl heard static, then his commander's voice came over.
"Prowl. It's a little early, don't you think?"
"Sir, there's a bit of a problem." Prowl stated with an even tone. There was a creaking of joints over the comm, probably the Prime stretching out tight cables, when he inhaled sharply.
"What in Primus' name..."
"What is it sir?" Though Prowl had an idea of what was going on.
"I'll kill that son of a glitch." Prime's tone was somewhere between startled and amused. "If we are on the same page, I agree," Prowl informed him. "Though I have yet to find any evidence on who the 'son of a glitch' is." Optimus made the obvious guess, and Prowl admitted that the usual suspect claimed to not be a part in whatever was going on.
"But we'll find out soon," Prowl paused. Then he canted his head to one side. "Might I ask about the state of your new paint job?"
Optimus groaned.
Early morning found Jazz sauntering down the hallway, in a good mood as ever. He already had his morning ration and decided to head down to Teletran-1 to see if there was anything he could help with since his patrol shift didn't start until late afternoon. He had some time to kill until then.
Rounding the corner into the main room, the backside of a huge black mech met his optics. He unsubspaced his gun and was about to signal the infiltration of the Ark by Motormaster when he noticed the blue head on the broad shoulders.
"What the..." He canted his head to the side just as the mech in question turned around.
It was indeed Optimus, though not looking like his usual self. The brave Autobot leader was painted all black except for a large white triangle at the top of his chassis and a smaller red dot to the left of that. It took a while for Jazz to process that Optimus Prime looked like he...
was wearing a tuxedo.
Jazz caved in on himself with laughter, Optimus glaring holes into him. Stifling his giggles was not his strong point though, and as soon as he was able to look Optimus in the optics, he noticed a neon green Prowl standing beside him and nearly fell to the floor. Oh, if the Decepticons were to stage an attack anytime soon, the Autobots would probably be missing their top two officers.
Clutching at his chest, Jazz waved a hand in the general direction of the two 'bots in front of him. "This base gets weirder by the day!"
"Jazz, please pull yourself together." Prowl said with the air of someone who should be angry but was just annoyed.
"I'm working on that, Prowl man," Jazz turned to Optimus. "So who's the lucky lady?"
Optimus took a step towards his Third In Command, and though Jazz knew Optimus would never hurt him, he held up his hands in defense. "Alright, I got it, no jokes. But Prowl-"
"I don't have time for it Jazz," Prowl interrupted before he could be further insulted. "Do you have any idea who is behind this?"
"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you've already checked Sideswipe?" Prowl nodded. "Then sorry, can't help ya there."
Optimus sighed. "I suppose Ratchet has a solvent we can use to get this paint off."
"I do hope so." Prowl shook his head. And with that, the three of them turned away, Jazz walking ahead to make sure there was no one in the hallways to see the tuxedoed Prime and neon Second. After turning several bots in a different direction, they finally arrived at the medical wing. Jazz nodded to Ratchet before the medic went into his office. Then he noticed the blue and pink robot on the medical berth. The small mech quickly looked away, and Jazz grinned like the Cheshire Cat and approached the minibot. He stuck out his hand. "Excuse me, I don't think I've ever seen ya before. You are?"
"Very funny, Jazz." Bumblebee crossed his arms and glared at his mentor. The minibot was pastel blue with pink zebra stripes all over, even the horns on his helm. He was a piece of work, and Jazz wondered if this was the last of the victims. Prowl and Optimus soon entered, and they paid one glance to Bumblebee before looking away themselves, Optimus with a bit of a smile behind his face mask. He tried to cover his laugh with a cough, but it was obvious to Bumblebee. The scout gave Optimus a strange look too, but was more respectful of his commander.
Ratchet exited his office with a datapad and looked up at the new patients in his medbay.
"Isn't this something you lot should see Wheeljack about?" He huffed.
Jazz pointed at the berth furthest from the door along the wall, which was occupied by an unconscious engineer.
Ratchet grumbled something about the lack of competent mechs aboard before turning to Optimus. "Now what in the name of Primus' pistons happened to you two?"
Optimus stepped forward to explain the situation when Ratchet went into a tirade about his lack of supplies and inability to deal with 'Pit-spawned fraggers with nothing to do'.
Jazz wisely left the room.
Late that night, Ironhide came in from patrol dead tired. First there had been the wreck down on the interstate, then rounding up the escaped animals from the zoo with the Protectobots, and then he had assisted in a police chase. While none of these things truly merited his attention, Ironhide just couldn't bring himself to leave them alone and risk human harm. Each casualty he could prevent on Earth helped ease his mind just a little about all the other comrades he had lost back on Cybertron.
Now all he was looking forward to was a nice recharge. Not even bothering for an energon cube, the burly red mech tossed himself onto his berth and cycled down his optics.
He wasn't quite the same when he woke up.
