A/N: I'm not much of one for author's notes, but I would like to correct something that I have been remiss in doing: I would like to thank each and every person who has reviewed my humble little scribble. I never once expected such talented folks as you all are take an interest in this, considering this is the first time I've written anything seriously creative since high school some seven years ago. You really know how to make a girl squee with happiness. XD

Also, huge huge thanks to okamimyrrhibis for beta-ing and my twin for being supportive. You guys are so awesome.

And now the fic:

Sideswipe was miserable.

After receiving the obligatory punishment from Prowl for having reported late for duty (they had date with a bucket, a brush, and the washracks this evening), he and his twin had set out on their assigned patrol route. They had been given the tamest area that the Second-in-Command could think to give them, since Sunstreaker had technically not been released from light duty only status.

This, unfortunately, gave the red warrior plenty of time to think, and his thoughts were decidedly Not Happy. It had occurred to him that Ratchet trusted them a great deal despite his penchant for yelling and/or throwing things at them—and what he had done, making a game out of winning the medic's affections, was beginning make Sideswipe feel very uneasy.

He could tell that his brother was picking up on it, too; he could feel the yellow Lamborghini 'watching' him through the bond they shared. Two halves of a whole, they were unable to keep anything secret from one another, and this was no exception.

::You're not going to be able to keep him in the dark forever.:: Sunstreaker's sudden intrusion into his mind startled him enough to make him swerve, his alt mode's tires losing purchase for a brief moment before he regained control.

::I can try.:: Sides replied grimly.

::It won't work. He's smarter than you are.::

::So?:: the red twin retorted stubbornly.

::So, he's gonna go ballistic when he finds out the real reason you started this with him.:: Sunstreaker pointed out, then paused. ::And personally, I'd like to know why you're so concerned with continuing it. You were supposed to fix this situation last night, Sides, not encourage it.::

::This from the mech that decided it was his 'turn'.:: Sideswipe sniped back. Sunstreaker sent a mental approximation of a defensive shrug.

::So I was curious.:: he muttered. ::All you talked about yesterday was 'Ratchet' this and 'Ratchet' that. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.::

::Yeah, yeah:: his brother returned dismissively, then abruptly sped up to drive alongside the golden Lamborghini and nudge his fender playfully. ::So was I telling the truth, or what?:: he asked smugly as Sunstreaker veered away sharply to avoid more damage to his already-abused paint job.

::Hey, watch it! I don't want to add red streaks to the bare patches, rust-bucket!:: They drove in silence for a moment, then, so quietly Sideswipe almost thought he had imagined it ::You were right. It's been a long time since either of us has had anyone close to that good.::

Silence enveloped them again. ::You know, Sunny, I've been thinking…::

::You'll hurt yourself again.::

::Ha, ha, very funny. Seriously, I've been wondering if he's really that good, or if it's just been that long since we actually gave a fig about anyone we've been with.::

A pause. ::You really care that much about him, don't you?::

Softly ::Yeah. It scares me if I think about it too hard. I just… never meant to hurt him. I wish I'd never made that bet.::

::It scares me too.:: Sunstreaker admitted, almost inaudibly. ::And he is so gonna be pissed at us when he realizes what we've done. I'm afraid he might not forgive us this time.::

Sideswipe slammed his brakes on and transformed, Sunstreaker belatedly following suit. The red twin sat down heavily, head in his hands, and his brother crouched beside him with a hand on his shoulder. "Sideswipe? Sideswipe!"

"I've really messed up this time, Sunny," Sideswipe said hoarsely. "All for a stupid drunken bet that I'd give anything to take back."

Sunstreaker patted his brother's shoulder awkwardly. "Hey, he might get over it, you never know," he said, forcing himself to be optimistic for Sideswipe's sake.

"Who, Ratchet the Hatchet? The mech that's more likely to throw his tools at you than repair you? I doubt it."

"Look, moping about it is going to get us nowhere. We'll just have to do damage control on the bet as soon as we get off-duty tonight." Sunstreaker stood up carefully, pulling his brother to his feet with a gentleness that he had never revealed to anyone else.

"Yeah," Sideswipe muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning against his brother just a moment longer than necessary. "Let's hurry up and get this patrol over with. The sooner we get back to the Ark, the sooner we can get started."

Complete silence fell over the common room of the Ark when Ratchet walked in.

"What?" he barked, and all optics quickly turned away from him, but conversation was slow to resume. Wary, he crossed the room to pick up a cube of energon and selected an empty table in one corner to drink it. He had barely sat down and raised it to his mouth, however, when Jazz sauntered over and plunked himself down in the seat beside him.

"Nice dent," the Porsche observed, optics twinkling.

Ratchet made a noncommittal sound.

"That good, huh?" Jazz chuckled, slapping him on the back cheerfully.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the medic said defensively.

"C'mon, Ratch m'man, I saw the twins go in your quarters yesterday and I saw them come out again this morning." The saboteur shook his head. "I never thought they'd manage it, but it looks like I was wrong."

"Manage what?" Ratchet asked, outwardly calm. Inwardly, he was beginning to panic at the black-and-white's implications.

"Why, win the bet, of course!"

"What bet?"

Jazz regarded him in surprise and no small amount of sympathy. "You didn't know, did you? I figured you would have found out by now, with as much as everyone's been yapping about it."

"I was not aware of it," the ambulance said stiffly. "Am I to understand that they made a bet as to whether they could… could…" he choked, unable to finish the sentence.

"Man, you've been had," Jazz said softly. "Been had good, too."

"Yes, it does appear so, doesn't it?" Ratchet asked grimly. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Sure, sure," the Porsche nodded understandingly as the CMO stood and began to walk away, untouched energon cube forgotten on the table. Jazz stared after him for a moment, concern on his face and vowing to himself that this would be the last time he made assumptions about anything ever again.