Next, the psychologist decided to check with Sideswipe, whom he decided he should have started with. However, he was disappointed when Sunstreaker opened the door.

"What'd he do now?" the yellow warrior implored.

"Someone stole my credits, and your brother is one of the prime suspects," Smokescreen snarled, being up front about it. He didn't bother with lies anymore. Now, it was just about his credits.

"I don't recall sensing any mischievous feeling through our bond," Sunstreaker said smoothly.

"Did you feel any anger or pain?" the Datsun asked. When Sunstreaker looked surprised, he smirked. I've got you now.

"Yeah, he was angry," the vain Twin said. "And then a little pain. In fact, when he got back, he had an ugly mar on his chestplate. But he definitely did not bring anything in."

"Let me be the judge of that," the DE retorted, and stepped inside without asking. He released his special "X-ray" smoke, which revealed hidden items. However, he could see no trace of energy, besides some secret high-grade. He frowned, thanked a somewhat angered Sustreaker and headed off to find Mirage.

888

Smokescreen found his next suspect laughing with Skids about something or other in the common room. The angered DE didn't care about what they were talking about. All he wanted was to get this over with.

"Hey, Mirage, can I speak with you?" he queried. The blue F-1 looked at him suspiciously, then shooed Skids with a flick of his head. The theoretician scurried off absent-mindedly, bumping against the door by accident. Smokescreen decided to have a session with the Nissan as well.

"Get on with it, Smokes. I was having a nice conversation," the spy frowned.

"Did you steal my credits?" Smokescreen growled. I'm not playing games anymore, he thought in his head.

"Wha…Excuse me?" Mirage asked, looking perplexed and a little annoyed.

"Did. You. Steal. The. Credits. I. Won. Last. Night?" Smokescreen ground out the words with venom in his tone. He was extremely angered and at the end of his patience.

"Sorry, but I would never commit such a dirty and unsophisticated act such as theft," Mirage glared.

"How about you tell the truth and I don't send you to Ratchet for a veeeery long time!" the psychologist all but yelled, raising his fist.

Before Mirage could answer, a voice interjected. "Excuse me, Smokescreen, but is there any logical reason why you're threatening Mirage?" Both mechs looked up to find Prowl staring at them with a frown on his lip components.

The blue Datsun gulped. "Someone stole the credits I won last night, and I've been questioning the suspects because Silverbolt wouldn't help me and I didn't want to deal with Red Alert and I'm at the end of my slagging patience!" he said in a steely voice.

"I see," said Prowl. "Mirage, you are relieved of your duties for now. Smokescreen, come with me to my office." Smokescreen grumbled and followed Prowl out of the room after a moment's hesitation.

Mirage blinked his optics few times and lay down on the couch, deciding to nap off his close call with pain.