It's peanut butter jelly time! Peanut butter jelly time!
PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!

"Blaster, will you STOP with that annoying song?!" Ratchet barked from across the lounge.

The aforementioned mech pointed to the girl sitting next to him, "Hey, she told me to play it!"

To that, Kayla could only laugh as the 'Bot resumed playing the Black Eyed Peas', "Get It Started"; albeit at a much lower volume. The Autobots received a string of victories within the past week, and the ever-logical Prowl had reasoned that the Decepticons would lay low for a while because of it. With the promising peace came plenty of free time for our heroes, and free time plus a lot of mechs with it meant one thing; PARTY TIME!

So here they were; a good majority of the 'Bots relaxing and having fun together in the recreation room. Presently, Kayla was seated atop a control panel; now a turn table, thanks to Blaster. Since the mech decided on being the DJ for the evening, the teen opted to leave her guitar in Jazz's quarters this time. Speaking of whom, the saboteur had apparently gone off to talk with Optimus Prime, so the girl had to sit and wait for her friend to return. But the wait certainly wasn't boring, thanks to said company.

Just then, the automatic doors opened with a swish, and the Porsche walked in. There was a bit of a skip in his step as he sort of half danced in time to the beat of the music. Cranking up the volume a few notches, the DJ once again switched songs; this time to note the 'Bot's arrival.

I'm Slim Shady; yes I'm the real Shady
All you other Slim Shady's are just imitating
So won't the real Slim Shady please stand up?
Please stand up? Please stand up?

The black and white mech chuckled as he approached, "Very funny, man."

The teen wasn't about to miss out on the joke either; adding in, "Wow…Jazz is the real Slim Shady? Who would've guessed?"

The two musicians shared a laugh as the mech, with great care and gentleness, picked the girl up and placed her on his shoulder. After a friendly nod to Blaster, he turned to his charge, "Let's go see what da' guys are up to."

With that, the Porsche started to make the rounds; being careful how he walked so as not to make his friend lose her balance on her perch. No sooner did he begin his trot, she asked, "If you don't mind me askin', what were you talking to Optimus Prime about?"

"I was jus' askin' him if he was comin' ta' da' party is all", Jazz explained, "But he said, no."

Kayla raised an eyebrow, "That's weird. I thought everyone liked parties. Even the leader needs to catch a break."

The saboteur chuckled as he thought about it, then reasoned, "Well, I guess parties like dis' aren't really his thing. I think he's more in ta' readin' when he relaxes."

The teen nodded her head in understanding, having learned that bit of information from her discussions with Optimus. Still, it didn't seem right for someone to be alone while everyone else was together, having fun. She made a mental note to try and get the leader to join in the next party that came around. For now, she was content to hang with her best friend and make small talk with the fellow party goers. The young musician was happy to find out that Wheeljack had made progress on his teleporter (no doubt her little song did the trick), and that Prowl had complimented her on her advances in using Teletraan-One (he didn't come for the party-just passed through).

It was then that a chorus of cheers and boos erupted from a corner of the rec. room, causing Jazz and Kayla to investigate. Across from Blaster and his booming speakers, a few tables and chairs had been set up. However, only one of those said tables were actually occupied. A group of mechs, consisting of Ratchet, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, and Bluestreak, were seated in a circle; all laughing. But no sooner did the Porsche approach, did he realize that the laughter wasn't necessarily due to a joke of some kind. His visor quickly darted to the many energon containers littering the floor, and then to the pinkish-purple cubes in his comrades' hands…these guys were drinking-a lot.

"Heeeey, if it ain't our-buddy", Sideswipe greeted in a sing-song voice. The others gave an absent wave of their own.

The girl giggled as she leaned in towards the saboteur and whispered, "Sounds like these guys aren't playing with a full deck of cards; better just humor 'em."

"Right, right…" the mech agreed with a half grin. He then made his voice audible for his friends, "So, um…whatcha' up to?"

"Wassit' look like?" Sunstreaker slurred as he blearily rubbed his optics, "Gotta' saaaunge-wister…"

The red head leaned forward a bit; a quizzical look on her face, as she tried to translate his high grade-induced speech, "Um…did you say, 'tongue-twister'?"

" 'Sa game", Ratchet explained, or as best he could in his present state anyway. His optics, which had turned very pale, never left the table as he continued, "Gotta' sayrrhyme…get it wrong-take a drink." With great effort, the medic finally turned his head towards the Porsche and pushed a canister forward, "Wanna' join us?"

Jazz stared at the doctor's offering a moment, then stole a glance at the girl on his shoulder. Although she was still smiling, her body had noticeably tensed up a tad, while her head was tilted slightly in a gesture that seemed to say, "tsk, tsk, tsk; for shame". After a thought or two, the black and white mech finally shook his head, "No thanks, man. Maybe 'nother time." Normally, he would've taken the glass and grabbed a seat, but the saboteur understood that there was a time and place for everything. He may have been a fun-loving mech, but contrary to popular belief, he didn't simply take a drink every time it was offered. He enjoyed a toast among friends every once in a while, but he knew when enough was enough. Plus, and most importantly of all, he had a lady with him, and blind or not, it wouldn't be very gentleman of him to get intoxicated in her presence.

But as Jazz peered across to the table next to them, apparently, the same rules couldn't be said for Spike and Carly, who were standing on the nearby table top; bearing witness to the Happy Hour game. Although they weren't noticeably appalled, the two teens still looked a little vexed. The Porsche scooted over a step, then leaned in to ask, "I didn't see ya' there at first. Whatcha' guys doin' 'ere?"

"Don't have much of a choice", Carly started, "They're really drunk and we can't get down."

"Get down? You mean you're stuck on a table?" Kayla asked for confirmation. When the pair yelled a "yes", she continued, "Howja' guys get up there?"

"Bumblebee", Spike explained, "He was with us, but when Blaster started playing 'Sweet Little Bumblebee', he kinda' disappeared…guess he got embarrassed."

The red head couldn't help but laugh at the explanation, but then she assured them, "Don't worry, I don't think Bee would abandon ya'; he'll be back."

"Oh, we know", the blonde added in, "Besides, we got this to bide our time." She motioned to the group of tipsy mechs for emphasis.

Just then, Sideswipe spoke up, "Okay…who'sext?"

Bluestreak raised his hand, then put both hands on the table and slowly pushed himself out of his seat. But judging by the six empty glasses surrounding him, this was a feat in and of itself. The poor mech stumbled a few times, before the twins finally managed to get a hold of his door wings for support. When he steadied himself at last, he managed out, "Okay, um…w-wa-whawasa rhyme again?"

Ratchet slapped his forehead in exasperation; instantly regretting the action with a painful wince. Letting out a sigh, he mumbled, "Jack and Jill, Blue; Jack n' Jill."

The mech in question gave a blank stare, before he vaguely remembered, "Oh, right…right…" A few blinks and missteps later, the gunner was about to start, when he asked, "Whyrthey goin' up a hillagain?"

The group let out a groan, and Sunstreaker nudged him, "Who cares? Now say it."

Bluestreak nodded, " 'Kay, okay…d-don't rush me." Rubbing his optics, he wearily started, "J-Jack…Jack-be nimble; Jack, be quick…"

At that moment, everyone at the table, and the four person audience, burst out laughing. The young mech glanced around; clearly confused as to what was so funny. Finally, it was Jazz, of all people, who cared to elaborate, "Blue; ya' had ta' say Jack n' Jill; dat's Jack n' da' Candlestick, man!"

The gunner didn't seem to care, "Hey-it had 'Jack' in it…"

"Doesn't matter", Sideswipe said as he grabbed another full glass and shoved it in the loser's face, "It's still wrong. Now drink up."

With that, Bluestreak fumbled with the container as he took it from his comrade and attempted to down it. But the mech barely got it to his lips, when he let out a groan and gurgled a hiccup. Before the twins could get a firmer grip on him, the gunner's legs gave out on him, and he collapsed to the floor; hiccupping and taking his two, living support beams with him. The audience quartet tried not to laugh as chairs were pushed aside, and after a long moment, the red and yellow Lamborghini's rose up from under the table; groaning and wheezing with each stumbling movement. But they were sans a gunner. When the pair finally reached the confines of their seats, Sunny drawled, "He's dead, Jim."

Sides shook his head with a grin, "The young gunsser alwayssa first onessa go…"

Ratchet peered under the table to find Bluestreak leaning against one of the legs; hiccupping every once in a while and apparently asleep. The medic rubbed his head, "Gotta' give the kid props for tryin'…didn't think he'd lastalong…"

It was then that Blaster decided to intervene with another burst of loud music, and Kayla and Jazz recognized the tune instantly. Long before the chorus rang out, the drums and upbeat tune told them the song was Outcast's "Hey Ya." Out of instinct, the girl began to hum and swayed to the rhythm, with the Porsche joining in soon after. Unfortunately, the musical duo weren't the only ones swaying. No sooner did the song begin, did Sideswipe conjure up a "bright" idea. A few heaves and stumbles got him to his feet, and he slurred out, "Hey guys…look whaIcan do…" Without protest or hand-eye judgment, the Lambo twin began to dance…if one could call it that. Naturally, in his present state, he had next to nothing regarding timing or coordination; he just-moved…in any way he felt, or could. Actually, in the end, he seemed to just be awkwardly shuffling in place with a goofy grin on his face.

From his place atop the nearby table, Spike turned to Carly with an amused smile and replied, "Betcha' the guys could do the robot!" He began pivoting his torso and arms around for emphasis.

But despite the boy's joke, everyone present, save for Sides, knew this was an accident waiting to happen. Sure enough, the inevitable occurred. When the music decided to cut for a dance break, the red Lamborghini took it as his cue to try and execute a graceful spin-it was anything but. The gathered audience watched (save for Kayla, naturally) as the mech went into a wild twist; each turn becoming more erratic than the last. Eventually, between his tipsiness and dizziness, the prankster let out an awkward yell as he tripped over his own feet and practically toppled over.

He would've fell completely if it hadn't been for his brother, who managed to get to his feet and, at the last second, catch him. However, even the save wasn't spared the amusement, for the yellow Lambo's rescue looked something reminiscent of a tango move. Sides apparently noticed this, for he grinned at his twin and asked in a wry tone, "What? No flowers?"

Sunstreaker looked down; realized what position they were in, and scowled at the joke; promptly dropping his brother. A noticeable "ugh" escaped him as he, once again, took a seat…Sideswipe never left the floor. The others shared a laugh while Ratchet shook his head, "Two down; one to go…"

With the exception of the high grade shenanigans, the rest of the party went off without a hitch. Just like Kayla promised, Bumblebee returned for Spike and Carly not long after; apologizing for his impromptu exit. Of course, the couple certainly had a story to tell him, regarding the tipsy kayos they just witnessed. Speaking of which, it was only a few drinks later that Sunstreaker finally threw in the towel; the pounding music giving him a pounding headache. With Ratchet as the clear victor, the yellow Lambo dragged his red twin to his feet, and together, the two shuffled out of the rec. room for a hard, long rest.

As for Jazz and Kayla, they were content to hang out with Blaster for the duration of the festivities; joking around, comparing music styles, and picking out songs for him to play. In fact, the two musicians were so enthralled in their discussions, they barely registered that, as the evening wore on, more and more Autobots began to leave; retiring to recharge no doubt. The saboteur came to notice this when he heard a low moan from behind, and turned to find that he, the girl, the DJ, the medic, and the passed-out gunner were the only ones left in the room. But that was soon to change, for with great effort, Ratchet managed to pull Bluestreak out from under the table and get him to his feet. Pulling an arm around his shoulder for support, the doctor sighed, "Come on; time for bed."

As the pair started walking; albeit very slowly, a grin came upon the gunner's features as he began to sing in a drunken tone, "Just keep walking; just keep walking; just keep walking, walking, walking; what do we do? We walk, walk…"

The ambulance lazily rubbed a temple as he grumbled, "Bluestreak; no singing."

But the warning never reached the gunner as he swayed his head back and forth, "Walkie, walkie, walk, walk, walk…"

"Blue", the medic growled.

The mech in question extended a hand to no one as he raised his voice for dramatic effect, "Oh, how I looove to WAAALK!"

Finally, Ratchet had enough. Stopping in his tracks, he spat, "Will you stop it with that song?! Now it's in my head!"

Bluestreak put on a guilty face and squeaked, "Sorry…" He then winced and rubbed his head, moaning, "…ooooh…don't yell…" With no arguments left, the medic and gunner slowly stumbled out the door; a table and chairs in shambles and left to clean up tomorrow.

That left our musical duo all alone, save for Blaster of course. The Porsche looked to the doorway and managed a chuckle at his friends' expenses, "Poor Ratch…"

The teen, who was still seated on his shoulder, shook her head with a smirk, "Well, that's what ya' get when ya' party too hard…poor everybody, really."

The black and white mech nodded his head, then stretched a tad, "Well, I'd say da' party's pretty much over. C'mon; let's grab ya' guitar an' I'll take ya' home."

The red head stifled a yawn, "M'kay…I had a great time by the way."

"Glad ta' hear it", the saboteur grinned as he made for the door.

It was then that a faint sound reached his audios, which slowly rose in volume, causing his steps to peter to a halt. Apparently, the girl noticed it too, for she turned her head in the direction of the…tune, they both deciphered. It was a rather calming melody; soft, serene, and nothing short of wistful, with two lovely voices sighing a chorus; signaling a song was about to start. Curious, the mech's gaze laid to rest on Blaster, who had his chin in his hands and returned the stare with a smile of his own. With a flick of the head and a wave of his hand, the DJ silently signaled him in a "go on" kind of way.

Jazz smirked; getting the picture. His head swiveled to face the teenager sitting atop his shoulder, and with the air of a gentleman, he bowed his head slightly, "May I have dis' dance?"

Kayla's face flushed red a moment; he wanted to…dance? A…slow dance? With her? A second was all she needed to decide. She cast a warm smile in his direction, "Most certainly."

Without another thought, the saboteur gently lifted the red head from his shoulder and placed her so she was standing in the palm of his hand. His other hand came to rest on her back for support. With his charge secure, he slowly, but caringly began to rock back and forth on his feet in time to the rhythm. The soothing melody wafted from the speakers and drifted across the room.

Who would've thought-that I'd find-a boy like you
But when I saw you there, I knew-yes I knew
That we'd-never be-torn apart-from the start
We'd make our first dance-last forever

From his seat at the turn table, Blaster looked on at the two with a wry grin; the whole time of the party, he was hoping to catch them alone. In all his time as an Autobot, he never thought he'd ever want to play Sebastian and help someone to "kiss the girl" as the talking hermit crab did. But seeing those two together, he knew they had an opportunity and he wasn't about to let them pass it up.

You're too young-that I'd like-though you're good
And then I show all them my shoe-oh, so true
So lost in your eyes-I can't wait- for our first date
When we make our first dance-last forever

Jazz smiled down at the girl in his hands; humming the melody as he gracefully swayed to and fro; adding a twirl here and there. Kayla's heart began to beat faster when she felt her friend's enormous fingers wrap around her frame a bit more. But she took it all in stride, and let out a soft, dreamy sigh as she leaned into his chest even more; listening to his strong, spark pulse deep within. She didn't need eyes to know he cared; she could feel his gentle warmth and tenderness, and hear the love in his voice, even if he was simply humming. And although they never exactly spoke of it, they both silently knew there wasn't a need to; they both knew they felt the same way about each other-through tone and music. Human and robot thanked the stars they had found each other, for one couldn't have seen a more perfect match. With equal, soft grins, the pair glided across the golden, metallic floors, letting the tune carry them away.

Please don't break my heart-before we start this love affair
It would make my teary eyes shrunk dry-oh, what a guy

We'll never be-torn apart-when we're sweet hearts
Making our first dance-last forever…
…forever…

.

.

.

.

.

AN: PARTY TIME!

I always wanted to showcase how the 'Bots like to party.

But enjoy the wackiness while it lasts...because the story's about to take a turn for the worse...