Chapter 7: Story Time

13 August 1987

"You know something?" Prowl began, watching Sunstreaker read aloud to a handful of recent arrivals as Sideswipe acted it out, complete with exaggerated movements and facial expressions. Smokescreen looked up from his 'pad. "If we had those two read to children at a nursery school somewhere, it would be the perfect blackmail material." Smokes looked at him, then snorted.

"Well, well. Someone's getting devious in their old age."

"I am not old. I'm younger than you!" Prowl replied in indignation.

"And I'm old. Which makes you old."

"Oh, piss off." Evidently, "slag" or "frag" wasn't a good enough oath. He smirked.

"Watch your mouth, Junior." Smokescreen's smirk widened when Prowl scowled at him. Rather darkly, he might add. It was nice to see his realcousin again, even if it was only when he was cussing him out. Or scowling, which admittedly was starting to scare him a little.

"So," he started, before being cut off by the alarms going off. Teletraan-1 was reporting an attack on Portland, which really made no sense. There was nothing there the 'Cons could want, but everybody got up and ran anyway.

::Don't lose it again this time, okay?:: He sent to Prowl, who snarled and quite viciously bumped into his backside. ::Love you too, cuz.:: He turned off the radio before he could get a reply.

The "attack" was really just the Stunticons racing through the streets. Well, that and crashing into buildings and other cars, either running or parked. It didn't seem to matter to them. It looked like Wildrider was about to run over some humans, but Ironhide stopped that from happening.

Long story short, they cleared out pretty quick when the majority of Earth-bound Autobots showed up. It was a little disappointing, really. Optimus made Wheeljack promise to take a look at Teletraan when they got back. Poor thing was too overworked to tell the difference between an attack and just a couple of 'Cons making trouble.

Everyone went back to whatever they were doing until either their shifts started or lights out.

Red Alert, falling into the latter group, walked to his quarters in the dimly lit hallways, humming a little tune he'd heard on the radio. Say what you will about humans. They can make some pretty catchy music. He was looking forward to his nice, comfy berth after sitting in front of those screens all day. Inferno said he needed a vacation, and he was tempted to ask Optimus, just for a couple of days. It's not like there aren't other capable mecha available to take over for him.

He paused, one foot still slightly in the air.

...Really, it's not.

Anyway, Prowl and Jazz wouldn't let anything get too out of hand. He keyed the password in, somewhat surprised he'd reached his door. He must have been more tired than he'd realized...

Red Alert walked into his room, ready to flop on his berth...when he saw...it. Standing there. Right in front of him. Staring into his optics. Getting bigger...and bigger...

He did what any tough mech would have done in his place.

He screamed like a little femme.

Down the hall, Prowl jerked awake. He sat up, doorwings twitching. My Twin senses are tingling...what have those idiots done now? He slid off his berth and picked his way across his datapad-filled room. The mech had a lot of work, okay? Some of it was bound to pile up now and again.

He opened his door and peered out, not really wanting to leave, but knowing he had to. Especially since he could hear Jazz across the hall, snoring away. Lucky little fragger...

Red Alert came tearing out of his room like Unicron himself was chasing him, screaming at the top of his vocalizer. Prowl stepped in his way before he could run by him. Red stopped just before he bowled him over, stuttering.

"What in the world is the matter with you?" Whatever it was, it really did a number on him. He had a crazed look in his optics, and he was shaking so hard his armor was rattling.

"I-i-i-IT! IT'S IN MY ROOM!" Red Alert screamed, waving his arms. He blinked. Red Alert blinked. They were both quiet for a moment.

"I'm sorry. What's in your room?"

"It," he stressed. "It's in my room."

It took five minutes of going back and forth before Prowl realized Red Alert was talking about a character from a horror novel. Oh, for crying out loud... He shouldered past Red and marched towards the mech's quarters to take down whatever his walking headaches had set up, thinking about all the ways he was going to torture the Twins for interrupting his sleep. Red Alert trailed after him, still stuttering, which really was unlike him. Then, as he opened the door, an evil smirk worked its way to his lips.

Now was the time to make good on his threat. It's a long time coming, after all.

Rule #7: All Stephan King novels are banned.

Rule #7b: Correction - All horror stories and movies are banned. At least until certain crew members stop having nightmares. Though I don't understand how that's possible since we can't dream.

Rule #8: The frontline Twins are now free game. Have fun, everybody.

The rule about Mirage and the handcuffs will be explained later. Much later. If anyone is still reading this...

For future references, my version of Red Alert will be slightly less paranoid than others.