Trouble, Thy Name is Sideswipe

Request fic for Akira Alvina who wanted to see what mischief Jazz and Sideswipe could inflict on their comrades. So, this is all your fault. Nah!

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I wish the best to all my readers!

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"Sides, I need your help," Jazz said, sidling in beside of the ruby warrior and bumping shoulders with him. Sunstreaker scowled with the casual grace the two displayed toward one another.

"What ever it is, count me out," Sideswipe said, nodding toward his twin. "I have a deal with Sunny."

Sunstreaker's pede collided with Sideswipe's leg under the table, causing the red mech to jump from the impact. Sideswipe ignored the rebuke.

"Well, I can understand you wanting to spend quality time with your brother,' Jazz said, before yelping and rubbing his own leg where Sunstreaker had kicked him. Jazz's visor turned toward the golden mech and found the customary sneer, though right now it was displaying a twisted smirk. "This is important. Trust me."

"I promised Sun..." Sideswipe said before Jazz interrupted.

"I need help pranking Prime," Jazz said, knowing what would get Sideswipe's interest.

"Streaker," Sideswipe finished lamely, his optics going wide, before lighting up, a beaming smile on his face ."What do you need help with?"

Sunstreaker rolled his optics knowing his brother had just been turned to the dark side again. Figures. Sideswipe could rule the underworld. Course knowing him he'd find a way to prank the devil and make a profit.

"Prime hasn't been pranked in awhile and I think it's time he gets a dose," Jazz said, motioning for Sideswipe to lean in close so they could talk. Jazz didn't want to use comms because it could be overheard and it would mean omitting Sunstreaker from the conversation.

Well, Sunstreaker didn't normally engage in conversation but he didn't like it when others excluded him for any reason. If you had something to say, you said it out loud. You didn't communicate with his brother over personal freqs. It was just rude. Sunstreaker beat mechs into the med bay for doing that.

"Well, I happen to know that Prime is terrified of scuttlebugs," Jazz said with a grin.

"There aren't any scuttlebugs on Earth," Sideswipe pointed out, already finding a flaw to Jazz's scheme.

"Well, I found something similar," Jazz said, pulling a small fuzzy lump from subspace.

Scuttlebugs on Cybertron were about the size of a mechs servo and were covered in a feathery, furry, filament, not unlike the sea anemone in Earth's oceans. The little fibers waved through the air, seeking out certain Cybertronian metals and heat from spark casings. Scuttlebugs had been known to warm up a mech and terminate him by trying to bask in the heat of their spark. They were cute, fuzzy, and offered a soft buzz across the sensor net, but appearances were deceiving.

"That's not a scuttlebug," Sideswipe said, looking at the pale brown and white thing in Jazz's servos. If it was a true scuttlebug, Jazz would have been dancing like maniac to get the thing off and terminated before it wanted to give his spark chamber a loving embrace.

"I ordered this from that sci-fi catalogue you got last month," Jazz said, tucking the small furball looking thing back into his subspace. "Something they called, Trouble. I think."

"They look like trouble," Sideswipe said, remembering his own single encounter with a scuttlebug.

"Said the poster mech for the title," Sunstreaker quipped, sipping energon and finding the Jazz's new toy to be eerily familiar.

Sideswipe offered a cute look that earned him an annoyed growl.

"What I need from you is a distraction so I can place these in Prime's office," Jazz muttered, his visor glowing a little too bright.

Sideswipe arched an optical ridge. Jazz believed he had what they dubbed a 'poker face', but apparently he misunderstood the definition. He was read as easily as a book.

"What do I get out of it?" Sideswipe asked, sipping his cube and pretending to think it over.

Sunstreaker suppressed the urge to groan, knowing the true meaning behind the happy feelings filtering over their open bond. Primus, it was enough to make him purge. He just knew his twin was loving the idea, regardless of reward or promise. Sideswipe could be talked into quite literally, anything, depending on subject of promised prank.

"I'll distract Prowl and you can have free reign over the next week to do whatever you want," Jazz said, sounding smug and offering an expectant look.

"Two weeks," Sideswipe said, upping the ante like Jazz knew he would. They always bartered. Sometimes they sounded like a couple bargain hunting at a garage sale.

"Deal," Jazz said, holding out his servo and shaking Sideswipe's with a flourish. "And I have the whole thing planned out, so you don't have to worry."

"Oh?" Sideswipe asked, genuinely intrigued. It took cast iron ball bearings to outthink the master planner and present such a blasphemous thing. Sideswipe internally scoffed at Jazz's presumption but heard him out anyway. Besides, if the planned sucked, he could always improvise. He was good at that.

"Prime has been working in his office non-stop all this week," Jazz started, getting excited that Prime was going to get quite the scare. "Someone has been bringing his evening ration and he doesn't leave his office until late."

Sideswipe sipped his cube, his optics narrowing as he recalled Prime's movements over the past week. There was a huge diplomatic meeting between several factions of humans and Prime had offered to mediate their negotiations. The meeting was scheduled for next week, so Prime had been locked away in his office, 'studying', as he put it.

"This evening, you will take him his ration," Jazz said, nodding toward Sideswipe's subspace pockets before adding, "And I know you carry knock out mixtures with you at all times."

Sideswipe offered a grin in answer. Sunstreaker sighed in the background, downing his energon and feeling that happy, giddy feeling overtake his senses. This whole fiasco was going to be a huge mess. And Sideswipe would once again get stuck with the blame. Primus, his brother could be such an idiot.

"You dose him up with one of the quick nap time doses," Jazz explained. "Then when he falls to charge, I'll sneak in and plant the scuttlebugs in his office."

Sideswipe offered a slow nod in agreement. The plan sounded good, definitely workable, and with Sideswipe's vast knowledge of chemical additives and subterfuge, there was a high probability this would work. He offered a snicker, making the note that he sounded like Prowl.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and leaned back in his chair, staring morosely in the distance. This was going to be such a disaster. But good luck telling Sideswipe that.

"He'll wake up, see the bugs, freak out, and we'll have a good laugh," Jazz said, quirky grin firmly in place and giving him a crazed joker aspect.

Sideswipe thought for a moment, his hand rubbing his chin, his head slow to nod in agreement. As an afterthought he turned to his twin and asked, "What do you think, Sunny?"

"I think this is a bad idea. Prowl will throw both of you in the brig and Prime will more than likely order your joint execution,' Sunstreaker said, pushing himself from the table and standing. "And you can count me out of your idiocy."

Without another word Sunstreaker left. Sideswipe frowned, sending his twin an annoyed sensation that was returned ten-fold. Well, if Sunstreaker wanted to opt out on what promised to be a colossal prank, then let him sit on the sidelines. Let the devious mechs work their magic and allow the other, unsuspecting bots, to have a good laugh.

That evening, just as planned, Sideswipe met Jazz in the rec room. Several mechs were milling about as Jazz filled two cubes, one for Prime and one for himself. He turned, spotted Sideswipe and enacted their diabolical scheme.

"Hey, Sides!" Jazz yelled, earning a few turned helms. "Mind taking the Boss Bot his ration for me tonight?"

"Sure," Sideswipe said, pretending to sigh and weaving his way through the crowd. When the cube was handed to him, the small, unobtrusive lever flicked along his wrist and dumped the perfectly measured portion of sleep additive into the mix.

The additive was carefully measured, taking in Prime's weight, frame, and tolerance. Since Sideswipe had previously drugged every person on base several times, he knew the right concoction for each mech. Prime would get a few moments of charge, fifteen minutes at the most, then would come out of his stupor none the wiser.

Sideswipe passed Prowl on the way out the door, saluting the tactician with the cube and calling, "It's for Prime," before disappearing through the door.

Jazz waved at the tactician, motioning for him to take their regular seat, when he called, "I'll be right back, Prowl. Forgot the tape Blaster wanted to play this evening."

Prowl nodded, taking a place at the dispenser and filling a cube. He walked to the regular table he shared with the sneaky saboteur and saw Blaster already assembling his music arrangement. Jazz returned a couple moments later, tossed a cassette to Blaster, then joined Prowl, grabbing his abandoned cube from the table and taking a drink.

"So, what's happening?" Jazz asked, propping his pedes up on the chair opposite.

Prowl scowled but didn't comment. Jazz never listened anyway. Sideswipe came in, followed by his twin, and the duo went to the dispenser. Sunstreaker looked unusually surly this evening, turning his back on his brother and stomping from the room. Prowl watched the golden frame disappear, his processor already calculating the twins' actions. According to his battle computer, Sideswipe had been idle for 9 days. Not good odds. He couldn't go too long without pulling a stunt. It just wasn't in his nature. Add the fact that Sunstreaker was more standoffish then normal, which was a symptom of Sideswipe either staying up late conniving, or trying to finagle his twin into something devious. All factors lead to an eruption, and probably within the next couple of days.

Prowl was pulled from his musings by Jazz, who nudged him and gave him an expectant look.

"What?" Prowl asked, unsure to Jazz's motives.

"I asked if you locked up," Jazz said, waving his servo in front of his friend's face. "You were just staring off into space and not responding to anyone."

"Who was I supposed to respond to?" Prowl asked, sipping his energon to cover his blunder.

"Well, Mirage and Bee said hello to you, but you just ignored them," Jazz said, frowning at the tell tale sign of twitching doorwing. Jazz's optical band brightened, "You were thinking about the twins."

"What makes you say that?" Prowl asked, taking another sip and feeling it light up his analytical plates with fervor.

"I don't know….. You get this…" Jazz started, but his speech was cut short when there came a high pitched shriek.

Every mech froze into place, the noise hitting such a decibel that audios fritzed and filled with static. The sound was long, drawn, and tortured. As soon as the sound stopped, it reinstated, causing all mechs to jump into action. That pitch. That unnerving decibel. The calling screech. A femme was in distress! All males instantly reacted to it. Prowl was out the door before most mechs regained their senses, their bodies slow to respond to the terrifying call for assistance. Jazz, and Ironhide were right behind the tactician, using him as a guiding rod toward the object of distress. Sideswipe came barreling after the officers, demanding to know what was going on. Several other mechs were trailing behind, ready to provide backup if the necessity arose.

All four mechs raced toward the screaming, and with some trepidation, they turned as one unit toward a hall that held one single office.

Prime.

Prowl raced to the door, throwing it open just in time to see Optimus Prime scream again and pull his blaster into his fumbling hands just before he shot his desk. The shot ricocheted off the desk and hit an illumination bank, casting half the room into darkness. Prime let loose a barrage of fire at the three small fuzzy lumps on his desk, all the while supplying a neverending stream of ultrasonic shrieks. Prowl ducked a shot and pulled out his acid pellet rifle, firing one shot and melting half of Prime's desk. It sagged on the side, two of the little tufted terrors blending into the molten metal and dotting its hellfire surface. When the perceived threat was over, Prime extricated himself from the wall, leaving behind a sizable dent in his wake. He approached his desk with hesitancy, Prowl mirroring his actions on the opposite side.

"What was that?" Prowl asked, staring at the white and brown lump.

"It was a scuttlebug," Prime said, staring at a furry creature now melting into the metal of the desk. A datapad slid into the molten mass, its screen flaring before burning into darkness.

"Scuttlebugs do not exist on Earth," Prowl said, taking the bold step of grabbing the only remaining piece of evidence. He held up the small fuzzy looking 'creature', his optics scanning for signs of life. When it was obvious there was no danger, Prowl turned accusing optics to the ruby warrior standing in the hall with wide optics.

"Sideswipe," Prowl growled, glaring daggers at the now stunned Lamborghini. "Can you explain this?"

"I don't know what that is," Sideswipe said truthfully.

"You are responsible for this," Prowl said, redirecting everyone's attention to himself and away from the still shaken Prime.

"It wasn't me," Sideswipe said, giving his most innocent, and overused, expression. "I didn't put those things in there."

"This little joke has your servo prints all over it," Prowl said, brandishing the fuzzy ball that had been the center of the turmoil.

"I didn't do this," Sideswipe said, cringing when the false scuttlebug was waved in his direction.

"You've ordered something to set up this little prank," Prowl continued, now looking murderous. It was amazing what was displayed by those ever expressive doorwings. Right now they were rigid and pointing in a sharp 'V' that looked rather painful. Prowl didn't seem to mind though. He advanced on his prey, ready to dish out some good old fashioned justice.

"I haven't received any packages in the last two weeks. Check for yourself," Sideswipe said in defense, though he did take half a step back.

"You could have been holding onto the object in question for an unspecified amount of time until you were able to pull off your prank," Prowl said, halting his advance, his battle computer running over permutations.

"You know me," Sideswipe said with an incredulous look. "I don't have that kind of self control."

"You're right," Prowl said, earning an agreeing nod from Sideswipe before he frowned at his own slight. "You don't have any self control and would instigate your prank as soon as you had all the necessary components."

"Primus, I never thought you could make a joke sound so dull," Sideswipe sneered, hoping to regain some of his credibility.

Prowl ignored the ruby warrior. Instead, his attention was focused on Red Alerts report on incoming mail and sure enough, Sideswipe had not received any packages for almost a month. But his attention was caught by a side note that Red Alert had the foresight to add.

Jazz had received a package from a sci fi store within the last twenty-four hours.

Prowl turned his murderous gaze from the innocent Lamborghini to the still smiling Porsche.

"Jazz, care to explain how this got in Prime's office?" Prowl asked, crosschecking the singed object against a database and finding it to be a harmless television prop.

"No idea," Jazz said, that customary smile lighting up his face in a roguish, handsome way.

Unknown to the assembled bots, Prowl had been in communiqué with Red Alert, getting the video footage of the last hour inspected. Red Alert's report confirmed Sideswipe's visit with an energon cube. And as expected, he left empty-handed, disappearing down the hall. Ten seconds later, the camera was tilted upward, away from Prime's office door. The sound of the door opening and closing could be easily heard, and Sideswipe would have continued getting the blame, had it not been for the soft humming.

Jazz's downfall had been his favorite song from the recent top hits on the chart. A song he had Blaster to play every evening and whistled when he was working. No one else would have been indulging in music at such a critical point.

Prowl looked between the two, knowing they were in on it together.

"Both of you, to the brig," Prowl said.

Sideswipe instantly started to protest his innocence. Jazz barked out a laugh, folding his arms across his chassis in defiance. He was an officer. He didn't have to go to the brig if he didn't want to. Prowl couldn't make him.

"Given the evidence and past history, I surmise that Sideswipe slipped something into Prime's energon and while he was unconscious, you enacted your nefarious plot," Prowl stated, knowing the scenario as the pieces to the puzzle fell perfectly into place.

"But, Prime was charging when I dropped off his cube," Sideswipe interrupted.

"No, I wasn't,' Prime said, his fuel pump returning to normal now that he understand the nature of the prank. "I distinctly remember you handing me the cube and telling me to fuel up before Ratchet gets involved."

"Oh yeah. Well, That was for your own health," Sideswipe said, giving the Prime a look. "You know what the Hatchet's like when we ignore our health."

Everyone gave a nod at that. They couldn't argue with those facts.

"And given the evidence, or lack of evidence of my involvement, I am completely innocent in this," Sideswipe said, pointing a finger at Prowl and earning a narrowed optic. "I dropped off the cube that Jazz asked… me… to…."

Sideswipe trailed off, his voice going soft as if realization had just dawned. Prowl caught it too. He turned hardened optics toward the Special Ops agent.

"Jazz, brig," Prowl said, nodding in the direction the saboteur was supposed to march.

Jazz smirked, arms still folded, his hip cocking to the side in nonchalance.

"I'm not going to the brig for a crime I didn't commit," Jazz said evenly.

"Video confirms you handed Sideswipe a cube in the rec room, with witnesses, and that Sideswipe delivered the cube," Prowl said, reciting his evidence. "One minute later you turned the security camera away from Prime's office and slipped inside, already knowing he'd be unconscious. When you left, you were humming your favorite song."

Prowl frowned, searching for the lyrics and spoke the band and song title. Jazz's stunned look was his answer.

"You are to spend the next three days in the brig," Prowl said, snapping his finger toward the hall that lead to the brig.

"It was Sideswipe who drugged Prime," Jazz said, jerking his head toward the ruby warrior who had been watching the scene with amusement, hidden behind a mask of shocked confusion. "He took the cube, drugged it, dropped it off, and told me to set up Prime!"

"I did no such thing!" Sideswipe yelled, turning wide optics to Prowl. "I had no idea what Jazz was going to do, or else I wouldn't have given him that tainted energon! You have to believe me!"

"I believe you," Prowl said, wincing a little from Sideswipe's volume.

"You… you do?" Sideswipe asked, his voice softening in his confusion. "Why?"

"The evidence points to Jazz," Prowl said, nodding toward the guilty party. "I believe that you didn't know Jazz had altered the energon and were trying to obey orders given by a ranking officer. For once, you were an innocent bystander." Prowl rolled his optics skyward and added, "I never believed it possible."

"I'm not going," Jazz repeated, still giving his serene, playful look.

"Jazz," Prime's commanding voice broke through the atmosphere. "Prowl is the Second In Command. Your immediate superior and the warden of our Army. You will obey his direct orders or you will have your own rank stripped."

Jazz stood stunned, not at Prime's words but at his tone. He must have been really scared to be so drastic in his rebuke.

"Scuttlebugs are nothing to joke about," Prime said, nodding to the inert furball still clutched in Prowl's servo. "When I was a dockworker, a friend of mine dropped a box, unknowingly filled with scuttlebugs for sale on the black market. He was terminated, along with two others who tried to assist him." Prime's voice dropped to a low, threatening rumble as he repeated with disgust. "They are nothing to joke about."

"Sorry, Prime," Jazz said in all sincerity. "I really didn't mean to scare you that bad. I just thought you needed a little laugh."

"Nothing jovial about scuttlebugs," Prime said, his optics transfixed on Prowl's clutching servo. He turned his attention to Jazz and added, "In the future, I suggest you stick to knock, knock jokes."

Properly chastised, Jazz bowed his head. Prowl grabbed the other black and white by the arm and spun him around, adding a little pressure to remind him that he was to be confined for three days for this little stunt. Jazz relinquished his control and allowed Prowl to steer him toward the brig. He wasn't going to go willingly. It was going to take some maneuvering from Prowl.

As the duo passed by Sideswipe, Jazz caught a glimpse of Sideswipe's slightly quirked lip and the gleam of mischief in his optics. Jazz offered a low growl in warning, reminding the ruby Lamborghini that he may have gotten out of punishment detail this time, but Jazz would make sure he paid. No one set up Jazz and escaped unscathed. Justice would be carefully planned and executed, and this time, there would be NO incriminating evidence.

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And before anyone asks for a follow up, I currently have 27 pages of ideas and 19 requests left to go. So, no more requests until I can get them down to single digits again. Some of these requests are months old and I don't want the people requesting them to feel ignored. I can only write so much at a time and sometimes the muse just doesn't want to cooperate. Your understanding is appreciated.

Love to all-

one very drained author