A/N: Some more angsty Lockdown and Prowl for you here with a smidgen of Oilslick thrown in. Continuing on from the Parlour Trix saga.

Warnings: sticky smexins, non con, forced and consensual drug use

Byte: Drug heightens pleasure centers of the cortex and is injectable. Highly addictive and dangerous

RAM: Disc placed on glossa, potent aphrodisiac. Addictive

A Dish Best Served - Part 1 by Optimus Bob

Lockdown took one last look at the directions Blackarachnia had given him. This was the place. His red optics scanned the scrap metal plant and abandoned warehouse with suspicion, didn't look like much but then a lowlife like Oilslick would always choose to maintain a low profile, especially given his business practices. Lockdown let out a low growl, the mech probably made Byte right here and shipped it out under the guise of scrap metal recycling.

Lockdown was no fool; Oilslick was also a careful mech. There was no way he would be able to walk in the front door. The green mech grinned darkly as he scaled the back wall of the warehouse using all the ninja training his memory files would allow. When he was a student of Yoketron, Lockdown had been one of the best at using the shadows and unnatural darkness of enclosed spaces, there was no mech better at sneaking in. It had proven very worthwhile in his exploits as a bounty hunter and Lockdown had every intention of using it to his advantage now.

He slid into the upper vent on the roof and dropped lightly onto the dusty floor. Despite his large frame, Lockdown made no sound and immediately followed the shape of the room, keeping himself invisible from the red light of the cameras, blinking at him from all four corners of the warehouse. Mistake number one Oilslick, he thought to himself. Why would there be any cameras focused on the interior of an abandoned warehouse?

"Lesson one, never advertise your position." Lockdown muttered to himself, his mind drifting back to Yoketron's teachings. A pang of guilt washed over him as he thought of his old sensei, that was something else that Prowl held over his head. "One thing at a time Lockdown, one thing at a time." He told himself, returning his focus to the current problem he was handling.

Using the dark shadowy corners Lockdown spied what he was looking for. Glancing around, Lockdown gently tugged the latch and lifted the large metal sheet from the floor. Shining down a light, he smiled at the staircase leading into the floor. Taking another look around, Lockdown headed down the steps, lowering the metal sheet over his head.

He headed into the darkness, switching to night vision he could make out a neat room with a single energy signature. "Just as Trixie said." Lockdown smirked and switched off the scanner mod on his arm. Switching on his headlights he worked the small console and a shining blue orb burst into life. "Well, well, well a compact space bridge. Oilslick ya've been a sneaky mech. No doubt from the double crosser Swindle." He mused to himself, making a mental note to deal with his wayward business partner later.

He programmed the console to shut off after one jump and stepped into the vortex. His optics adjusted quickly when he materialised in a bright, clinical looking laboratory. Now this was more like it. Lockdown peeked out of the large shaded window. The streets of Kaon bustled right outside the mirrored window, nobody could see in, probably had no idea a Byte manufacturing facility was even there, right under their noses.

Lockdown cracked the joints of his hand and took a seat. All he had to do now was wait, more than enough time to focus on the absolute rage burning in his spark. Now he had nothing else to focus on, Lockdown passed the time by counting the many different ways he knew of how to dismember a mech and intended on using at least half of them.

****

Inamorato was busy, it was always the case on match days. The gladitorial arena was proving popular and with it came increased business. For this Prowl was grateful. Work kept him busy and the busier he was the less chance he would have to dwell on his troubled thoughts. Even meditation wasn't helping him, his mind too cluttered with thoughts of the past, of the present and Lockdown.

Prowl tensed at the thought of the bounty hunter. He'd never seen Lockdown get so worked up as he was the night Prowl let slip a little truth about his affiliation with Oilslick. In truth Prowl was mortified that Oilslick had insinuated anything, once again opening doors to the past, just as he promised he would. He always found him, he was always there in the background lurking. It was only since dying, twice, that Prowl had truly come to appreciate his life and that had meant reintegrating that darker part of himself that he'd hidden and buried for so long.

He had done many things for Oilslick and had suffered at the mech's cruel form of appreciation too. He was scarred and he knew it, he wasn't really sure he could let a mech like Lockdown get close. He was so similar to Oilslick in so many ways, but there was something else about Lockdown, something that Prowl felt drawn to. A deeper sense of honour resided within the spike armoured mech, a certain degree of morality, but then he was still a killer, a bounty hunter. Prowl fought hard to keep that cold truth at the fore front of his processor. No matter what he may or may not be feeling towards the gruff mech, that truth couldn't ever be erased. Prowl knew this from personal experience, he knew it very well.

At this point Prowl wasn't certain that he ever wanted to see Lockdown again, if only to give him a little bit of peace of mind that he wasn't the cause of Lockdown's obvious emotional confusion. If they didn't see each other then feelings would fade right? That's how it was supposed to work.

Prowl glanced towards the door, Blackout was laughing heartily with a customer while still maintaining a wary vigil. He noticed Barricade sat not so far away, he was well aware they were in a relationship and the smaller mech was fiercely protective of Blackout. He sat close enough to the 'copter to be in his presence, his head buried in a datapad, but not close enough that he was intruding or interfering with Blackout's job as a bouncer.

Prowl frowned, Blackout had been asked to cover the door for Lugnut this evening, they really were that short staffed. Soon he would be teaming up with Lockdown who had gotten the vacant bouncer position. Prowl's tanks lurched, he would be this close to the green mech every evening. He suddenly felt a need to be somewhere else, to escape the pressure that the very building seemed to be exuding upon him. Prowl gritted his denta and turned away from the door to focus on organising the drinks. He needed to regain some control, some perspective. He needed to get away.

Prowl's face twisted into a scowl when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by a cheerful voice demanding his attention.

"Prowl ya need a break, I can feel the tension from over here."

"I'm perfectly fine thankyou." Prowl responded tartly.

Jazz shot Optimus a look and the larger mech shrugged. "Come on, we know there's somethin' on yer processor. We just don't want ya to bottle it up and hide away from us. We're yer friends Prowl." The white ninja drummed his fingers impatiently on the bar counter, prompting a stern glare from Prowl.

"We only want to help." Optimus added somewhat nervously.

Prowl sighed and turned to face his two friends. "Did Arcee send you?"

Optimus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before Jazz jumped in. "Nah, she just said ya've been workin' too hard and she was a bit worried about ya."

Prowl's small mouth pursed in disapproval. Jazz noticed his hands were forever cleaning something or rearranging the drinks' containers. "She shouldn't have called you."

"Is this about Lockdown?" Jazz asked darkly, his optics narrowing behind his visor when Prowl froze.

"Jazz!" Optimus hissed, quickly taking a seat beside the tactless ninja.

"What? Mech's bad news." He turned back to Prowl and frowned at the rigid posture of his fellow ninja. "She told us he'd got a job here and that ya might not be feelin' too hot about it. Apparently ya've been pretty sour with everyone since he…"

"It's got nothing to do with Lockdown!" Prowl snapped, averting his optics from the startled looks of his now worried friends. "It's just… I don't want to talk about it." He finished quietly.

"I can dig it." Jazz held up his hands. "But ya still owe us some time, we came all this way. How about indulgin' us with some mid-grade and sharin' it on yer break?"

Prowl opened his mouth to protest but guilt formed, at Jazz's warm smile and Optimus's hopeful optics, won out. They had come all that way just for him after all, it would be rude now to just turn them away and he suddenly felt the need for a break. Since Lockdown had left three solar cycles previous, he'd worked every shift and more, just to distract himself. He'd barely recharged and right now he was burnt out.

"Why don't you gentlemechs enjoy the rest of the evening?" Arcee's sweet voice piped up from across the room, her sugar pink frame heading towards them demurely. She never failed to attract the optics of many a guest as she past, Jazz and Optimus included. She smiled up at Prowl and placed an understanding hand on his arm. "You're stressed."

"I'm fine." Prowl began to insist.

Arcee laughed. "Even Chromia's avoiding you."

Prowl quirked an orbital ridge. "That's no bad thing." He mumbled.

"I'm sure it isn't, but I don't want to be responsible for my staff overworking themselves. Take the rest of the evening. Just clean up when you're done. Ok sweetie?"

"I…"

"I insist." She whipped off the red satin apron with a sharp flick of her wrist, ignoring the indignant squeak from the black and gold ninja. "Now get."

Prowl managed a half-hearted scowl as the small femme bodily pushed him from behind the bar. Jazz grinned and grabbed his arm. He led him to a quiet booth that Optimus has already reserved and handed him one of three waiting cubes of energon. "Drink up Prowl, we're not leaving until we get ya to unwind for at least a cycle."

The darker ninja took the offered seat beside Optimus and heaved a sigh. "I really should stop telling my friends where I work." He sipped the mid-grade. "They're a bad influence."

Jazz's grin widened at Prowl's tiny amused smirk. He raised his cube. "That we are mech, that we are. Cheers."

****

Oilslick entered his lab feeling rather pleased with himself. Blackarachnia had told him the deed was done and in return, he'd told her what he knew of Starscream, which in a pure twist of irony he'd actually found out from Lockdown, before their business relationship had soured.

He curled his upper lip in disdain. Once again that young Autobot had come between him and the success of his business. Oilslick in his error hadn't realised the extent of Lockdown's feelings for the elusive ninjabot and in telling him of his past affiliation with Prowl, he had inadvertently ruined the chances of a profitable collaboration.

He flexed his long fingers and clenched them into fists in frustration. Lockdown had no idea what he'd passed up. The profits from trading Byte would have given the foolish mech enough credits to pay off his debts and get the Death's Head repaired and space worthy again.

Oilslick shook his head, closing the hidden door neatly behind him. The fool had instead chosen to listen to his spark rather than his processor and that had cost Oilslick a great deal of credit. When Lockdown refused his generous offer, he'd had to search out another means to export Byte, which had taken both time and money and all because of that fraggin' ninjabot. A soft growl rattled through Oilslick's chest as he entered the brightly lit lab. He couldn't wait to get Prowl back in his clutches, the Autobot had made a deal with him a long time ago and Oilslick never forgot his contracts and nor did he ever break them. Prowl owed him a lot and Oilslick had every intention of collecting.

His processor still firmly locked in thoughts of reclaiming his lost, wayward property; Oilslick did not notice his visitor.

"Nice den ya got."

Oilslick froze to the spot at the sound of that familiar drawl, tinged with something else, something darker.

"Things I could do with a set up like this." Lockdown mused. His red optics focused on Oilslick and a sneer spread across his mouth. "Did ya learn nothing from ya time with ol' Yoketron Oilslick?" He pushed himself to his feet and took a step forward.

Oilslick instinctively took a step back, his hands scrabbling behind him for the door handle.

"Mistake number two. Never enter a room without checkin' out yer surroundings first."

Oilslick had no time to react as Lockdown snarled and lunged for him with surprising speed. Oilslick choked and his vocaliser emitted a burst of static as he was slammed into the door a strong hand gripping his throat.

"What have ya got against me huh?!" Lockdown growled. "And what the fuck did ya do to Prowl?!" Oilslick squirmed and gagged as Lockdown squeezed.

"Gaacckk…you're… accckk… a means to an… end" He managed to choke out, red optics meeting Lockdown's. "Not interested… guuhh… in spark led fools…"

Lockdown snarled and flipped Oilslick onto a workbench, his back landed with a satisfying crack, glassware and chemicals spraying across the immaculate floor. "What end?!"

Oilslick's chest heaved, his processor frantically trying to recall any of his training that he had sorely neglected and Lockdown clearly hadn't. First rule: wait. Let your opponent show his weakness.

"Prowl." He stuttered, the vice like hold not once releasing its crushing hold of his vocaliser.

Lockdown frowned and heaved Oilslick up to meet his furious glare. "What the fuck do ya want with him, haven't ya done enough?!" His voice was low, dangerous.

Bingo. Oilslick played it cool, well as cool as one could while being kept in a strangle hold. Prowl was Lockdown's weakness, he should have known. Second rule: press the advantage.

"Owes me…" He gasped weakly; the tight grip around his throat restricted energon to his cortex and was beginning to affect his vision. He had to stay online, there was a very strong possibility that if he didn't handle Lockdown - in the emotional state he was in - correctly, he would end up dead. Dead was not conducive to Oilslick's business plans. Dead was the last thing he wanted to be.

"He doesn't owe ya shit! Not after what ya did to him!" Lockdown drew back, his processor struggling to come up with any reason why Prowl would owe Oilslick. "I should just slag ya right here. Don't think anyone would miss ya all that much and it will get ya off Prowl's back."

Oilslick winced as cabling in his neck snapped. "I… have… friends."

"Yeah? Well so do I." He held up his sharpened hook. "Comes with me everywhere, now which optic should he take out first?"

Oilslick shrank back into the bench. Press the advantage. He met Lockdowns intense red optics. "You don't… know him… like I do." He snarled

He snarled and twisted his slender frame sharply. Mustering all of his strength Oilslick lifted his knee and felt his armour crunch against Lockdown's less protected side. The green mech grunted and flinched in pain momentarily relaxing his grip on Oilslick's narrow throat.

A moment was all Oilslick needed, lifting both knees and digging his heels into Lockdown's mid section the lithe mech grabbed Lockdown's collar fairing and rolled backwards sending the unbalanced mech toppling over his head. Lockdown let out a roar of frustration and spun round, lowered into a ready crouch he eyed Oilslick with narrow optics.

"I don't want to know him like you do." Lockdown growled with menace, drawing a blade from his armour and readying himself another strike.

Oilslick stood ready, his stance strong. "Oh? I thought you'd appreciate the uses of a pleasure bot." He sneered at the angry threatening glare on the white face and pushed further. "You have no idea what you're missing."

"Ya better watch ya fraggin' mouth." Lockdown hissed, gripping his blade tighter.

Oilslick's mouth widened into a leer. "He's quite the whore of a 'bot." He bit his lower lip suggestively. "Just needs a little push... now and then." He grinned darkly and tensed.

Lockdown shook with rage, just the thought of Oilslick with... it didn't bare thinking about. "GaaaAAHH!!" He sprang forward clashing violently with the thinner mech. Their hands and legs were a flurry of movement. They struck and parried move after move, one countering the other with a skill that only came with years of specialised training.

"Ya forced him ya worthless piece of scrap!" Lockdown roared sending a solid punch into Oilslick's helm. The narrow visage snapped back with a loud crack and Oilslick was sent careening across one of his benches. Mixtures of raw and processed Byte splattered onto the floor staining Oilslick's dark frame with bright blue.

He grasped a slender metal vial and with surprising grace flipped himself up and over the bench, landing a kick squarely in Lockdown's chest. Armour around the impact splintered and cracked under the force and Lockdown flew into the adjacent wall. "You're a fool if you think Prowl is the poor innocent mech he lets you believe."

Lockdown cried out as he slammed into the wall, Oilslick snarled and pinned the bounty hunter by holding a needle of raw unprocessed Byte to the throat. "That 'bot has a dark streak that would send a chill down even your back struts." He hissed, pressing all of his weight into Lockdown's injured chest.

"Still... doesn't excuse what ya did to him." Lockdown rasped painfully.

Oilslick smirked. "Oh Primus bless your naïveté." He rolled his optics, his voice taking on a decidedly darker tone. "It's not rape if he doesn't say no."

"Yer a filthy...ya drugged him!!" Lockdown squirmed only to gasp in pain when Oilslick pressed harder into his chest, the point of the needle scraping through his armour plating.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear..."