Streak of Luck

The twins' day has mirrored my YEAR. I learned never to say "It couldn't get any worse".

Thank you to those who reviewed so far! Your words have kept me going! Your encouragement is appreciated and loved and I hope to continue to bring you these crazy one shots of our favorite Lamborghinis.

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"Before you start, this wasn't our fault," Sideswipe said, being mostly carried across the threshold of the med bay by his twin.

Ratchet looked up from his current diagnostics of an unconscious Red Alert, and gave a start.

"What the Pit did you get into this time?" he demanded by way of greeting. He slammed down his tools and marched across the room, grabbing Sideswipe roughly and giving him a shake.

"Pit, Ratchet!" Sideswipe squawked. "My equilibrium chips are screwed up!"

"You're telling me, Idiot!" Ratchet snapped, mech-handling the crippled Lamborghini. Unfortunately Ratchet didn't take in the physical condition of both mechs before his abrasive treatment. Sunstreaker gave a pitiful whine and dropped his twin to the floor, where he pulled Ratchet down with him.

Ratchet let out a startled epithet that surely didn't belong in any medical journal as he went crashing on top of Sideswipe. Grumbling, he helped the fallen warrior to his pedes, then realized Sideswipe couldn't get them to function properly. With a sigh he heaved the lighter sports car over his shoulder and threw him on the nearest berth.

Sunstreaker hobbled to the nearest berth and flopped down. He groaned as he maneuvered himself into a reclined position and waited for his turn with the scalpeled guillotine.

Sideswipe gave Ratchet a few new names, none of which Prime would have approved of being used, and earned himself a sharp reprieve that dented his already busted helm.

"Ouch! Watch what you're doing you insane witchdoctor!" he hollered, his joints giving a grind that almost drown out his voice.

"Explain yourselves!" Ratchet demanded, his scanners already employed and showing a long list of damage.

Sideswipe gave a pitiful squeak before his optics rolled back in his head and fell against the berth.

"Slagging glitches, the whole lot of you!" Ratchet fumed onward, oblivious to Sideswipe's lack of attention. The medic was used to his patients being in such a state. Didn't slow or halt his tirade.

"Forty percent neuro-conductivity, ten percent of hoses melted, eight fuses completely blown, two main wires fried, eleven circuit boards showing damage that will require extensive repairs, transformation cog will have to be replaced, and why are the both of you covered in spray paint?" Ratchet rattled off, his voice becoming lower with each injury. It was not a good sign. As if on cue, he turned slowly to face Sunstreaker, who looked a little frightened. Ratchet's voice was still set on 'dangerous', "What in the slagging Pit have you two been doing?"

"It wasn't our fault," Sunstreaker started with a feeble voice. When Ratchet growled in warning, he took a shaky, rattling inhale through his vents. Feeling his fuel freeze in his lines from Ratchet's glare, he said meekly, "I'll give you the quick version."

Ratchet gave a crisp nod in affirmation, ignoring the incessant pinging now coming from the high command. No doubt the twins were the reason for the summons, so he better get the story before alerting the Command element to the culprits' whereabouts.

"We went to Portland to get Carly something for her birthing day," Sunstreaker started, knowing he better keep optic contact for fear Ratchet would strike when his defenses were down. "When we got to the mall, there was a car dealership showing off their new models. We couldn't resist checking out the competition, and when we transformed, the humans started taking pictures and demanding interviews."

"And?" Ratchet prompted, still glaring daggers.

"Well, someone mentioned the new fuel system and designs, so I said it wasn't as wonderful as they claim, and next thing you know the humans were upset and threatening us," Sunstreaker said, hoping to gain a little sympathy, but coming up empty.

"What could possibly cause them to threaten you?" Ratchet demanded.

"They were comparing domestic American cars to Lamborghinis," Sunstreaker said, a fire lighting his optics. His lip curled in disdain as he repeated, adding just a dash more venom, "Domestics…. To Lamborghinis. Well, there really isn't any competition, is there?"

"So, their opinion caused some friction," Ratchet said, knowing that the worst thing to do around Sunstreaker was to question the superiority of his chosen alt mode. He was known to slag mechs for even suggesting he lower his standards to more maneuverable vehicle for the region the Ark was currently calling home.

"It was a minor misunderstanding. I tried to tell them there was no competition and they can keep their low rate vehicles, when the humans started throwing things at us," Sunstreaker said, his anger building as he recalled the start of this whole fiasco. "So we decided to leave and try the mall on the other side of town. We made it about four blocks when we were attacked by Cons."

"Decepticons?" Ratchet asked, wondering how a Con attack hadn't reached the Autobots.

"No, convicts," Sunstreaker snapped, his usual sarcasm roiling with his tank. "Of course it was Decepticons! It was the Coneheads with Rumble and Frenzy, but we weren't expecting them. They got the drop on us, rained fire, we took several hits and had hide in the city. Unfortunately we ended up near a news studio and unable to escape, we had to engage. The humans came out, video taped us, tried to interview us while engaged in combat. I may have made some comments about their intelligence and how they may deserve some horrible accidents to befall them, and they took offence."

Ratchet offered a noise of contempt, still ignoring the comm..

"Cons got off a lucky shot, knocking Sides out, so I had to jump in to defend my brother," Sunstreaker continued. "I was able to disrupt their attacks, with a little help from a couple human vehicles that had full gas tanks. As the Cons fled, blinded and blistered, I was able to get my idiot twin to transform and follow me. Unfortunately we both sustained heavy damage, and broke down on the road. We called a tow truck to assist us, but when the human showed up, he gave us a lecture on the quality of human engineering and craftsmanship and some other slag I couldn't have cared about. After he yelled at us for ten slagging minutes, he drove away, giving us a rather rude gesture. So I transformed and shot out his back tires. He careened into a lamppost, and as he climbed out of his truck with a weapon in hand, we retreated." Sunstreaker gave a heavy sigh that left a gurgling in his tanks. It wasn't a promising sound. He frowned as the noise, then continued, "Because my brother is an idiot, we ended up in the wrong part of town. We tried to hail humans to help us, but most just stared at us like they would rather take us apart than assist us in getting home."

"You didn't insult them?" Ratchet asked causally, wondering how many Sunstreaker had killed and disposed of. He really didn't react well to being threatened, especially if his paint was involved. How the warrior survived being covered in graffiti, the medic was terrified to ask.

"I sure as slag did," Sunstreaker said defensively. How dare Ratchet insinuate he'd let mere puny humans get away with such flagrant stupidity. "But Sides was hurt and needed repairs, so we left. Got behind a funeral procession that took their slagging sweet time and when we started honking at them to tell them to get their afts in gear, some humans started screaming at us from their cars about being respectful." Sunstreaker gave Ratchet a vile look that made the medic shiver. "So I transformed and showed them what respect meant."

"You didn't?" Ratchet asked, afraid of the answer.

"I tried," Sunstreaker gave half a shrug, indifferent to the misery of the humans who had lost their loved one. "As soon as they saw my gun they actually went the speed limit."

Ratchet did his best to not face palm, still studiously ignoring the comm. from high command. They were slagging impatient, whoever they were.

"So we decided to take a short cut," Sunstreaker continued, oblivious to Ratchet's wavering attention. "Turned down Crest High Street, and didn't know the city was flushing their hydrants. Between the two of us, we hydroplaned from a gushing fire hydrant, ran over a small furry animal, careened off the sidewalk, took out three mail boxes, another hydrant, a telephone box, and nine trashcans. Though most of the hits were on Sides' tally."

"Sweet Primus," Ratchet muttered, clearly perturbed by the way the twins had been entertained for the day.

"I ran up on the sidewalk, and blew a tire," Sunstreaker admitted. He was glad Ratchet was the only one conscious in the room. He'd self terminate if someone saw him in less than perfect condition. "Sides offlined and drifted into me, and together we hit a tree. Thankfully we had lost most of our momentum, but the impact was enough to knock me offline as well."

Ratchet didn't comment on the dents and dings that also littered both frames.

"When we onlined, I was able to transform and pull Sides away from the tree, but his transformation cog was busted, so I had to transform him by hand," Sunstreaker gave his twin a dirty look, then gave Ratchet a disgusted sneer. "And I'm not sticking my hand in there again!"

Ratchet couldn't stop the snort from escaping. No one enjoyed having to be manually transformed. Protoforms were very sensitive, and could easily be damaged by someone who didn't know your personal sequence.

"That's when I noticed we were missing our hubcaps and both of us were covered in graffiti," Sunstreaker said, and there was a sharp edge that made Ratchet flinch and want to check his body for damage. Defacing paint or armor was a huge error of judgment when Sunstreaker was involved. You damaged him or his twin, he'd make revenge look like child's play. Add the stupidity factor of stealing something from either, and you may as well dig your own grave and get comfortable in it.

"I've noticed the spray paint," Ratchet said sternly, hoping to convey his disgust so the golden warrior wouldn't rear his temperamental side. Sideswipe was the only one who could control Sunstreaker when he was in such a state, and the ruby twin was currently unconscious.

"It won't be forgotten," Sunstreaker muttered darkly, the street etched deep into his memory banks. And every address burned permanently into his CPU. Oh yes, there's going to be payback.

"So, how did you get home?" Ratchet asked, wondering what other trial the twins were going to be subjected to.

"We walked," Sunstreaker said, setting aside his revenge programming to deal with the present. He was tired, hungry, in pain, and in desperate need of a good wash and wax. And for some reason, his tank was threatening to rebel. He gestured toward his twin and added, "Last four miles I had to practically carry the slagger."

Without warning Sunstreaker leaned over the side of the berth and purged, though with his tank being half empty, there wasn't much to bring up. Ratchet yelled, shoving a drop cloth across the floor, where it captured most of the spillage.

Ratchet frowned at the dark purple, chunky energon that splattered onto the cloth. He scanned it and let out a bark of contempt.

Sunstreaker thought the noise was directed at him and gave Ratchet a dark look, "I couldn't help it!"

"It's not that," Ratchet said, his mouth twisting into a sneer. "There's glucose in your energon!"

"Huh?" Sunstreaker asked before he curled up into a painful ball.

"Sugar," Ratchet explained with a dark countenance, making a mental note to notify the proper chain of command. "Someone put sugar in your tank."

"Slaggers," Sunstreaker muttered.

Just then Prowl stormed into the medbay, a whirlwind of black and white fury.

"Ratchet! I have been comming you for the past half hour," Prowl said, his anger directed toward the medic before he noticed the patient sitting on the berth. His ire instantly changed victims.

"Hospitalized humans, thousands of dollars worth of damage, and a public apology to a local automotive establishment. And that's only a fraction of the list that you and your brother are responsible for," Prowl snapped at Sunstreaker. "You have a lot of explaining to do before you spend the rest of your existence in the brig!"

Sunstreaker gave the Second a half glance, as if considering his options. Slowly, he pulled himself off the berth, swinging his legs over the edge, careful not to step in the congealed puddle being absorbed, and opened the cabinet situated between his berth and the neighboring one. He turned to Ratchet, gave a quick gesture to Prowl and said, "You tell him," and promptly emptied the contents of a tranq dose into his main fuel line.

Sunstreaker collapsed, hood first over the berth. He wasn't so much as lying on the berth as he was draping, strutless across its polished surface. It was then that Prowl could see the graffiti that adorned the golden warrior's body. As his optics scrolled over the text, a part of him wondered why humans were so enamored with certain body parts and various verbs. It seemed unhealthy.

Prowl gave a slight twitch as Ratchet sent him a file, a complete recount of the twins ordeal. Prowl absorbed the information, his optics narrowing.

"Now, if you don't mind, I have patients that require immediate attention," Ratchet said when Prowl showed signs of having downloaded the information. When Prowl turned his optics to regard him with a cool expression, Ratchet added, "And just so you know, there will be no punishment detail. They've suffered enough and it's going to take a while for both of them to recover from the damage I've been able to detect." When Prowl opened his mouth to object, Ratchet interrupted. "As the Chief Medical Officer it's my call, and from the extent of injuries sustained, the twins were well within their rights to do what was necessary to ensure their safe return to their home. If you question my authority, I have no qualms in welding your winged aft to my office door and displaying you like an insect in a science project!"

Prowl thought about arguing, and knowing the CMO had jurisdiction in his medbay, it was wise to keep ones vocalizer shut. Ironhide had found that out the hard way. Besides, Prowl fully intended on getting a detailed report, including vid feed, from both twins when they regained consciousness. And if their account did indeed show the humans displaying violent behavior against them, then it was time that the Command unit have another talk with the liaisons and elected officials.

"I want a full report of their damage," Prowl said, then took his leave.

Ratchet nodded and went to Sideswipe, who showed the most damage. A thorough scan of his tanks showed that it too had been compromised. Ratchet sighed, comming Wheeljack and Perceptor to help him put the twins back together.

And Primus help the ones who were responsible for the current state of health of his two favorite patients, for when he found them, heads… would…. roll.

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