BAIT AND SWIPE

AN: Yeah, it's a little early but messages have been AWESOME from my readers! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH for the reviews and messages! So, I gave you another chapter… and if I get enough time, I'll try to get another chapter out Thursday or Friday :D

LOVE TO ALL!

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"Prowl?" Sunstreaker called over comms.

"Yes, Sunstreaker."

"I hate you."

"I suspected as much," Prowl stated, not perturbed by the golden warrior's retaliation.

"This is a terrible idea," Sunstreaker said with a curt huff. "It's never going to work."

"Statistical analysis states there is an eighty four percent chance of success."

"And if you're wrong, do I win something?"

"I was unaware we were betting."

"I can contact Smokescreen to make it official," Sunstreaker threatened.

"That will not be necessary."

"How about, if this doesn't work, I get next weekend off?" Sunstreaker asked hopefully.

"Any why would I agree to such a thing?" Prowl countered.

"Because it could be considered compensation for wasting my time when I could have been scheduled for downtime, and you always ensure we have reasonable amounts of downtime between duties," Sunstreaker said, knowing exactly how to phrase it to appeal to the tactician.

"Are you attempting to manipulate me?" Prowl asked skeptically.

With Sunstreaker, he could never tell the intended response. Sometimes he was intimidating, other times plotting and manipulative. Other times he wanted to be left alone and was surly to the point of causing bodily harm. Prowl often wondered why he remained with the Autobot forces when Sunstreaker clearly was more suited to the Decepticon cause.

"Just asking for an equal amount of time to enjoy leisurely activities."

"There's an art show, isn't there?" Prowl hazard.

"Car show in Detroit actually." Sunstreaker shrugged on his wheels.

"Have you calculated distance and possible road delays?" Prowl asked.

A weekend seemed an inconvenient time. Everything happened on weekends. Surely it would be wiser to have galas and festivities on a Monday, where most people complained about the day. Monday through Wednesday seemed a good time schedule to Prowl.

"If this does not work, then you will be granted leave to attend the car show," Prowl promised. Sunstreaker had been rather tame as of late. Prowl should reward the behavior, lest Sunstreaker go on a rampage and pummel the Dinobots. He could really be devastating when he was in a beserking frame of mind.

"Autobots honor?" Sunstreaker goaded, though he knew Prowl would remain true to his promise. He wasn't like a lot of the bots. Sideswipe in particular.

"Affirmative,' Prowl said, not slighted by Sunstreaker's passive innuendo.

"Is there any activity?" Prowl asked.

"A couple of humans are mating in a Chevy a block away," Sunstreaker said. "By the sounds of it, the male is winning."

"I meant anything illegal," Prowl wanted to roll his optics but refrained. It was thanks to the twins that he now had experienced a vast range of emotion. He was positive his creators would be stunned to learn what he had experienced and endured, both believing him to be uncaring, and as cold as the glacial fragments left by passing comets.

"There is a feline who is spray painting a building with its bodily functions," Sunstreaker said, his scanners actively searching the surrounding area.

"That isn't illegal," Prowl said, giving in and rolling his optics.

"According to the human laws, that's destruction of private property by something known as tagging, or graffiti."

"Moving on,' Prowl prompted.

"Oh, the male has won and the female is now demanding he help her across the finish line," Sunstreaker said, enjoying the banter between the couple parked a block away. Humans were so inventive. And he loved how the female mind worked.

"That is also not illegal," Prowl said, glad no one else could hear their conversation.

"The female seemed to be slagged off," Sunstreaker said, frowning as he tried to understand what was being said.

"Sunstreaker, stay on task."

"There isn't… wait a minute," Sunstreaker said, his voice dropping low though there was no way a human could hear the communiqué over the Autobot frequency. "There's movement in the shadows."

"Another cat?"

"No, this is definitely human." Sunstreaker switched to infrared and caught the distinct outline in the dark. "Human. Male. Approximately one hundred and seventy two pounds. Five foot ten inches and one half. Dressed in black clothing and lingering in the shadows. His body is pointed directly at me as if he is watching me."

"Don't blow your cover."

"You mean I don't get to shoot him?" Sunstreaker quipped.

"Sunstreaker. There is to be no violence toward the human."

"He scratches my paint and he's a smear on the pavement." Sunstreaker sent a burst of static over the airwaves to display his malcontent. "You know the rules. Someone messes with the paint, they may not live."

"We are trying to catch the carjackers that are responsible for stealing over two dozen exotic cars," Prowl said. "You were especially offended and offered yourself as a decoy to find the ones who are doing this heinous thing."

"Moment of weakness," Sunstreaker quipped. "The sport cars may not be sentient, but they deserve to be loved and cherish like any femme with a set of curves."

"Focus, Sunstreaker." Prowl resisted sighing.

"I am, which is why I'm telling you the human is exactly four meters from my bumper and closing fast," Sunstreaker said before emitting a threatening growl over the comms. "The Slagger looks like he hasn't had a decent wash in MONTHS!"

"You're a non-sentient sport car left unattended," Prowl reminded the golden bait. "Don't give the human any inclination to think otherwise, else we may lose this possible lead."

"I want to be fully detailed after this. NO excuses." Sunstreaker's threat was obvious. He would be put back to factory perfect condition or the base would be a Praxian short. "Oh slag!"

"What?" Prowl asked, concerned over Sunstreaker's well being.

"He just touched my hood!" Sunstreaker said aghast. "Oh, I feel so dirty!"

"Suck it up," Prowl scoffed

"Oh, my spark," Sunstreaker softly gasp. "He's molesting me!"

"He's just admiring your finish," Prowl said hoping to play on the Lamborghini's vanity.

He knew he was indebted to Sunstreaker to agree to this police operation. The police were currently stationed all around the city, ready to receive coordinates to find the chop shop that had been butchering expensive, exotic cars. Sunstreaker volunteered for the service because he was a Lamborghini, and… "irresistible."

In his own words.

Several others offered to be the bait for the crew who were stealing cars but most of the Autobots were already well known by the public. They would be too easily identifiable. The few exceptions were Mirage, who wasn't technical 'legal' to be on the road as he was a sanctioned race car.

Red Alert wasn't a viable candidate as he would probably try to claim the human was an organic con and start and international fiasco that would get the Autobots kicked off Earth. Sideswipe had a tendency to be captured by motion cameras traffic and was seen cruising human roads. So that left Sunstreaker, who apparently had a huge price that Prowl had to pay in order for the reclusive Lamborghini to agree to be a target.

"Primus, I can detect an elevated heart rate and distinct aroma of human hormones!"

"How would you know what a hormone smells like?" Prowl snorted.

"Sparkplug explained why Spike takes so many showers," Sunstreaker said, inwardly cringing when a slim jim was slipped down his window. Apparently, his jacker wasn't inept because it took him nearly three minutes to disengage Sunstreaker's locking mechanism. And that was only because Sunstreaker was getting sore from the stabbing pokes.

"Is your locator operational?' Prowl asked. He knew it was, but he wanted to keep Sunstreaker distracted lest he transform and smear the human for touching his golden finish.

"Yes," Sunstreaker hissed, making a noise between a hissing cat and whistling tea kettle. "Oh Primus, he's moving his aft in my seat!"

"Stay focused," Prowl said, sending out the alert to the police force to follow his directions when the Lamborghini began to move.

"Primus, he's running his filthy human paws all over my steering wheel and dashboard!" Sunstreaker gasped.

"Remain stationary," Prowl warned. "He has to think you are a regular, ordinary car"

"Ordinary?" Sunstreaker snapped, his current situation forgotten.

Prowl smiled to himself and added more metaphorical nails to Sunstreaker's vanity. "Just a plain Lamborghini, like any other off the assembly line. But when he takes you to his cohorts, you will show them exactly what they have missed."

Sunstreaker offered a soft hum, thinking Prowl's words over. He let out a disgusted grunt before speaking. "I think he has a glitch. Slagger has touched his crotchplates at least six times since getting in, and keeps giving himself a look in my rearview mirror. I think he's trying to seduce himself. He keeps repeating about a 'baby' and stares at himself in the mirror like he's suddenly gone blind."

"Has he tried to start you yet?" Prowl asked. So far they only had the crook. They wanted all his cronies and possibly, find the stolen cars or at least a list of where they were sold.

"I'm definitely not turned on by this behavior," Sunstreaker said, wincing as the human stud pulled off an access panel and yanked on Sunstreaker's wires. "How he thinks looking and smelling like that is a turn on for females is beyond me."

Before Prowl could open his mouth, Sunstreaker growled an oath that sounded quite pained.

"Slag it, I'm starting up anyway. He's yanking on some very sensitive wires and Ratchet will pull my plugs out of my muffler if this human does extensive damage,' Sunstreaker growled in frustration and turned over his engine.

The human inside gave a whoop and began to gyrate in the seat again, sliding his buttocks back and forth and up and down, muttering on the comfort and sexiness of leather before putting the supposedly ordinary Lamborghini into drive and pulling away.

"Slag, I feel dirty," Sunstreaker said, resigned to the fact that he had to allow a human to navigate him.

"Maintain your cover," Prowl said, pulling away from his hiding place three blocks down. He kept an active ping on the golden Lamborghini, ready to go in and save him from a chop shop, which to Sunstreaker, was worse than death.

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," Sunstreaker groused, adding a little roughness to his steering. The man sitting behind the steering wheel glared at the center, his brow frowning when he noted the entire steering wheel wrapped in leather.

"All wrapped up for me, weren't you, baby?" he asked, his thumb caressing the center of the steering well.

Little did he know, the leather was a ruse to cover Sunstreaker's Autobot sigil. Since the Autobots were so well known, they had to cover up their symbols when assisting the police with carjackings and other criminal activities.

Fortunately, Sideswipe had some leather that was a perfect match to Sunstreaker's interior. Where Sideswipe found such a thing, Sunstreaker refused to indulge his curiosity. He would never recover from learning the answer.

"Prowl, are you nearby?" Sunstreaker asked, internally wincing as the human continued to molest his interior.

"Two blocks south," Prowl responded.

"Is Ratchet one hundred percent certain Cybertronian bodies aren't capable of mating with organic frames?"

There as a protracted pause, Prowl no doubt calling Ratchet to confirm the viability of his claims.

"Correct. No form of mating may occur," Prowl said.

"Well, this human is rubbing himself, his temperature has increased by three degrees, and his pheromone levels are increasing. His respiration has increased by forty percent and his palms are sweaty."

"Perhaps he is nervous?" Prowl hazarded.

"I've watched human movies," Sunstreaker confided. "This is not symptoms of nerves. Wait… we are pulling up to a structure."

"Understood. All police units are standing by."

"It's a housing structure," Sunstreaker said slowly, wondering how humans could inhabit small blocks of housing.

An elderly lady exited the apartment building and shuffled down the stairs, obvious to the masterpiece parked at the curb.

"Hey, is De'anna there?" the carjacker yelled to the elderly woman.

She paused, looking to the golden gem, her ancient eyes going wide at the shiny showpiece. "Why no, she's out with that Juarez boy. Left about an hour ago."

"Damn it!" the carjacker snarled, slapping the steering wheel and snarling a string of obscenities. He missed the darkening of the dashboard as Sunstreaker's engine gave a throaty growl.

"Bitch is probably off with College Boy, laughing it up," he said, pulling away and driving maniacally down the road. Sunstreaker had to add some drag to his turning in order to compensate for the human's poor driving skills.

All the while the man argued and berated an imaginary girl, probably the one who had captured his attentions.

"How are the conditions now?" Prowl asked and somehow managed to convey his amusement in the dry tone.

Sunstreaker was not a happy Lamborghini.

"His levels are still high but now they are spiked with adrenaline," Sunstreaker reported. "I'm guessing he is very angry, judging by the way he grips my wheel and keeps pressing my accelerator with a leaden foot."

"Just, be careful," Prowl warned.

"Had I taken that advice earlier, I would not be in this situation," Sunstreaker countered. He was going to enjoy the hefty 'payment' he was receiving for this favor. "Steering is difficult when I have an emotionally charged human directing my actions."

"Just maintain your guise, only exposing yourself if absolutely necessary to protect your passenger or yourself."

"And my gorgeous finish," Sunstreaker put in smugly. He'd love to smear this greasy human. Anyone who stole cars deserved the death penalty in Sunstreaker's opinion. Especially those who chopped them up or sold them off to strangers to reap a profit.

"We are slowing," Sunstreaker said, closely monitoring his passenger's vitals. They were starting to even out as they approached a car dealership. "We are located at the used car lot that's open 24 hours. There is no one on the lot or in the main office."

Prowl opened the comms so the police who were executing the raid could be privy to all of Sunstreaker's intel.

"We are entering the garage. There are three males, mid twenties to late thirties in the garage. One is opening the back wall." Sunstreaker quickly scanned the area, gathering as much information as he could to relay to the officers who would be storming the structure. "Directly though the garage is another garage. Four males inside. One looks to be late fifties, early sixties with mustache and gaudy taste in clothing. He's smiling at me and clapping his hands. I haven't detected any form of weapons on the suspects but there's plenty of equipment lying around that may be used."

"Taking positions," Prowl said, his sensors on high alert as the local police parked a block away and began to sneak toward their target.

"One female inside a small office talking on the phone. She isn't interested in what the males are discussing. I can detect a Ferrari who has been put up on hydraulics. There is a Porsche that looks like Jazz. I should introduce him."

"Stay focused."

"A Maserati that is missing doors, hood and front quarter panels. And a.." Sunstreaker gasped, both over the comms and out loud.

The thief who had stolen him, frowned and looked around for the source of the noise. His employer had not noticed the auditory anomaly and began speaking, drawing his minion's attention back to himself. The carjacker exited, fanning his arms wide to bask in the praise of his employer.

"What is it Sunstreaker?"

"Red Lamborghini," Sunstreaker said, taking in the hollowed interior as it was being slowly dissected for transport to places unknown. It looked at awful lot like Sideswipe.

Gutted. Empty. A shell of what was once beautiful, exotic life.

Sunstreaker was suddenly hit with a very clear mental picture of his brother, defeated and terminated, being stripped for parts.

And Sunstreaker, the vile, moody, sadistic bot that he is, was left with a sickened feeling.

Suddenly, there was a symphony of shouting, screaming, and hectic activity as the police entered the compound and arrested everyone, including the blonde talking on the phone. She looked more upset at being denied the phone than the metal bracelets slapped onto her wrists.

Sunstreaker couldn't bear looking at the gutted red Lambo. He backed out of the garage, through the main garage, and out into the parking lot, his chassis heaving on his tires.

"Sunstreaker?" Prowl's voice was soft. One could almost say it was concerned. "Are you alright?"

Once clear of any overhead wires, cables, and decorative debris, Sunstreaker transformed, Prowl following suit to grace the golden warrior with a troubled look.

"It's too warm in there," Sunstreaker said, vents cycling on high. Honestly, he did feel very hot, though he had performed no exertion.

"Sideswipe is alive and well," Prowl said, knowing what was causing the Lambo such turmoil.

Sunstreaker narrowed his optics, glaring with all the hostility he could muster toward the SIC. "I know that!"

"That is not Sideswipe in there, pulled apart by human hands," Prowl said, without flinching. The bot really had a titanium back strut to stand unperturbed against Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker's hands curled into fists. "Your point being?"

Prowl didn't waver in gaze or voice. "Simply that such a sight may trigger negative emotions that leave one feeling... unbalanced. It is a common occurrence and not one to be ignored, lest it develop into an impairment."

"So what? You think I should go in there, throw myself on the fake Sideswipe, and confess undying love and adoration toward the little slagger?" Sunstreaker spat. "Or better yet, return to base and smother him with affection?"

"No, I believe you should return to base, punch Sideswipe in the face for his latest prank, and begin the two weeks vacation I've granted you for assisting me in this excursion."

Several officers exited the garage, leading their suspects away for processing and internment. Sunstreaker hoped for the rest of their natural lives. He waited until the last human passed and wouldn't overhear.

"I am not weak."

"I never said you were," Prowl stated calmly. "There is always the possibility of an occurrence that will remind us of a painful moment in our lives, or a possible fear of the unknown future. There is no shame in fearing such things. All one must do is recognize it, face it, and move on. Which I believe in your normal temperament, usually involves an act of violence."

"What would you know about it?" Sunstreaker groused, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the topic.

He knew his cheek plates were heated in embarrassment but he be slagged if he allowed Prowl know just how much he was feeling. Or how right he was. Sunstreaker would rather suffer internal combustion than admit to Prowl's way of thinking.

"I lost my sparkmate at the beginning of the war." Prow said softly.

Sunstreaker stared long and hard at the stoic mech for several moments, replaying the conversation over to ensure he heard correctly. After a pregnant pause he muttered, "Sorry. I didn't know."

"She was a geo-botanist, studying the growth cycles of rare crystals in the Singing Gardens of Praxus," Prowl said. He looked to the cold asphalt of the dealership, lost in thought as he spoke. "I had been working double shifts and wanted her to return home but she was one step away from cultivating the first cross generation of singing crystals."

"They're difficult to propagate," Sunstreaker said for lack of anything better to say. He couldn't imagine someone like Prowl could have had a spark mate. Let alone losing her.

"She would sing to the crystals as she worked, and discovered certain frequencies created internal vibrations in the crystalline structures that magnified against several others until the joined base of two crystals began to distend upward, molding itself to the new harmony that generated from its union. She nearly had the stabilizing frequency when the Gardens were destroyed by the Decepticons."

"Rather clinical explanation," Sunstreaker quipped, hoping to dispel the awkward embarrassment he was feeling. "Wait a minute. How can you still function with your sparkmate gone? I thought once a mate terminates, the other shortly follows."

"That would be an illogical waste of a life," Prowl said. "If there is an existence after termination, then I will be reunited with her. If I allowed myself to fade, she would spend our eternity berating me for wasting my life. She could be very strong willed and adamant in her opinions."

Sunstreaker could only stare, dumbstruck that someone like Prowl had found a sparkmate. He was far too uptight for his own good. Sideswipe often commented how Prowl needed a serious fragging, and had tried several times to concoct a 'love potion' that he had heard about in human media. It was sad to think that though Prowl was so by the book and studious, he had suffered a great loss.

Sunstreaker suddenly got a mental image of a pissed off femmebot standing nose to nose with Prowl, giving the black and white mech an audio full. Sunstreaker doubted Prowl could be so impassive toward his sparkmate as he was toward his fellow Autobots.

"Excellent work, Autobot," a human male called, looking up to Sunstreaker and garnering instant scrutiny by navy optics. "We have captured the entire chop shop crew and found a list of their buyers on the computer."

Sunstreaker offered a single dip of his helm in response.

"Very good work, indeed," the man smiled, returning the gesture. He jerked his head in Prowl's direction, "Make sure that Prowl gives you some time off for a job well done."

"Do not encourage him," Prowl murmured.

Sunstreaker smirked. "You would be surprised at my extensive payments."

"Very good,' the man nodded. He watched as a couple of squad cars arrived to accept their criminal passengers. "Excellent. One crew down and four more to go."

Sunstreaker instantly looked to Prowl, his navy optics narrowing. "What?"

Prowl shifted, his door wings hiking slightly with discomfort. "About that…"

"Not a chance in the Pit," Sunstreaker snarled. "Do you know what that human did to me? What he did in my interior? It's going to take hours of detailing to erase his touch and smell from my upholstery!"

The policeman wisely took his discreet exit.

"Stop being so melodramatic," Prowl sighed, walking away from the lot and toward the highway. He transformed and pulled away, Sunstreaker following a few seconds behind.

"Oh, no you don't!" Sunstreaker growled, throttling his engine to nearly ram his hood under Prowl's trunk. "I'm not volunteering for this form of prostitution again!"

"You were not a prostitute," Prowl said though inwardly he was giggling.

"I was so!" Sunstreaker spat angrily. "You pimped me out!"

"No one paid for you. There was no monetary transaction made for you or your services."

"Slag!" Sunstreaker spat. "True love or grand theft auto, either way, you pimped me out in the hopes of catching a criminal."

"And we caught several criminals and will bring even more to justice when we raid the homes of the buyers," Prowl said, knowing the police force was itching to put the illegal sport car trade out of business. The most wealthy and influential in the state were breathing down the necks of the police commissioner and all his chiefs.

"Get Sideswipe to be your decoy because I'm not doing it again," Sunstreaker said.

"Are you pimping your brother out?"

"Slag yeah! You did it to me, I'm going to do it to him!" Sunstreaker retorted.

"We can't use Sideswipe because he is well known," Prowl pointed out.
"He will be easily identified."

"Then I'll give him a repaint," Sunstreaker said, already deciding to paint his brother an ugly pumpkin orange.

"If you have any paints left."

Sunstreaker huffed, remembering that part of his payment for this humiliation was uninterrupted time to spend with his art pieces. He made sure that all of his supplies had been delivered first before agreeing to Prowl's terms.

Now, he wanted to return to the Ark, charge, then begin his vacation by locking himself away in his studio and enjoying the peace and relaxation afforded by canvas and paint.

"I do hope to have enough pieces finished to place in the local galleria." Sunstreaker admitted. "The owner liked the few pieces I put in last year. Sideswipe was able to invest in some decent human stocks that surprisingly are doing very well. I may be able to expand my mediums."

"That is not what I meant." Prowl said, knowing the golden comet was about to become a tornado. "I received word from Jazz during the stakeout that Sideswipe was caught painting the Aerialbots with crude logos. He has used all of your supplies."

Sunstreaker's engine lowered in pitch, becoming a soft hum instead of the fast pulsation of pistons.

"What?" Sunstreaker hissed over the hum of his engine and the sound of wind rushing through his grill.

"Jazz has already incarcerated your twin and he's currently residing in his usual cell," Prowl stated.

Sunstreaker's voice was deadly calm. "I'll terminate him."

"I would ask for you not to terminate him but perhaps you could incapacitate him?"

Sunstreaker slowed, frowning at the bumper in front of him. "What?"

"If necessary, ask Ratchet's help," Prowl said, still driving along with his Lamborghini shadow trailing behind. "Incapacitate him. Repaint him. And we will use him as the decoy. Be a much better target if he is incapable of offering protest or breaking his cover. We both know he is incapable of silence and remaining idle on his own."

Sunstreaker couldn't believe what he was hearing. The plan was brilliant! He could throttle his twin, enact his revenge, put his brother in a terrible situation, and Sideswipe could enjoy the benefits of being mute and immobile. Devious. Sunstreaker saw Prowl in a whole new light.

"How would you be able to get him to potential locations?" Sunstreaker asked, already knowing exactly how to take his brother out so Prowl could use him as a guinea Lambo.

"I have friends in the towing industry," Prowl said, taking the exit that lead to home, and Sideswipe who was awaiting his unknown fate. "I can have them to tow him to a location, pretend they delivered to the right address, then leave him there for the humans to steal."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're devious?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Jazz has made such a comparison before," Prowl said, with a perturbed inflection. "But I fail to see how one formulated such a conclusion."

Sunstreaker sighed, mentally shaking his head. Prowl was clueless at times. Brilliant and sinfully wicked in his schemes, but on the whole, very obtuse.

"Oh, I believe I find the situation very agreeable," Sunstreaker said, knowing his brother was going to regret his most recent pranking indiscretion.