A/N: I did a bunch of these late at night, and wow, it is fun. You can probably expect more of this kind of thing.
I might even do a music-shuffle-challenge thing, too.

Drabbles

"Surprised"

Prowl appeared beside Red Alert at the table unannounced, causing the neurotic white-and-red femme to let out a yelp of surprise and fall off her chair waving her arms ludicrously quickly.

"Just me, Red Alert." Prowl said tiredly, helping her back up.

"Don't scare me like that!" Red Alert berated him.

"Help" - Humanised AU

Paul raised his fist and knocked twice on the door.

"Go away!" came the shouted reply.

Paul came in anyway, opening the door, ducking under the foreseen thrown object (a very small, pink Swiss Army knife) and raising an eyebrow at the thrower of the very small, pink Swiss Army knife, who brushed a bit of scarlet-dyed hair out of her eyes and turned back to her broken laptop.

"Sorry, Paul." the girl said awkwardly. "Stupid cameras broke again."

"It's fine, Eilidh." Paul replied, dusting off the slight nick in his coat that the knife had made.

Eilidh looked away a little shyly. "You know, you can call me Red if you want. I don't mind. Everyone else does."

Paul's lip twitched into half a smile. "I'm not everyone else. Now," he asked, looking around, "do you need any help fixing your cameras?"

"Swap" - Humanised AU

Eilidh Dalton liked to wear a very, very long, very, very red, scarf.

This was literally the kind of scarf that could go around her neck twice and still hang down around her ankles. She liked the sense of security it gave her - she could wrap it up around her mouth and hide behind it if she felt especially threatened. The scarf never left her neck.

Paul Rowley was never seen without his large, black notepad. A notepad filled with notes and scribbles and occasionally drawings and sketches, but always impeccably organised and contained. Writing in the notepad was Paul's easy stress-relief - even holding the thing in his hand made him feel much calmer. Which was a large part of the reasons why he never let it leave his side.

So, when Jack (from the jazz club) found the two of them passed out after some party neither had wanted to go to but had been dragged to by their overenthusiastic friends, with Eilidh's scarf tangled up around Paul and Paul's notepad lying open in Eilidh's hand with about fifteen games of noughts & crosses drawn in red biro, he was understandably surprised.

"Tangled" - Humanised AU

"Hey! Red! Re-ed! RED! RED!"

Eilidh Dalton blinked sharply as someone waved a hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her dream.

"Huh? What?" she asked intelligently.

"So you are alive." Eilidh's friend Minerva said, putting a hand on her hip. "What'cha looking at, Red?"

Eilidh sat up sharply. "Nothing."

Minerva smirked. "Right. Is nothing about yay high, black hair, super dreamy, right over there?"

"No!" Eilidh said, her cheeks flushing pink. "I wasn't looking at Paul."

Minerva grinned evilly. "I was talking about Jack, Red. Got you!"

Eilidh sighed and slumped onto the table. "Fine, I was looking at Paul."

"Oh, you were ravishing the boy with your eyes, Red." Minerva teased. She put on a susceptible impression of Eilidh's English accent and fanned herself. "Oh, Paul, hold me like you hold your weird and slightly creepy notepad!"

"The notepad's not weird or creepy!" Eilidh defended, flushing deeper pink."It's mysterious and alluring!" She suddenly realised what she was saying and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Paul? You alive in there? Hell-oooo?" Jack asked, tapping Paul on the side of the head.

"I'm fine, Jack."

"Looked to me like you were starin' little Red over there down a storm." Jack replied slyly.

"Her name is-" Paul started stiffly, but Jack interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah, ah've heard this shpiel before - her name is Eilidh."

Paul suddenly looked straight down into his notepad, then back up. "I think she looked at me."

"Nah. The other one's having a definite look at ol' Jazzers, though."

"Why you insist on calling yourself by your own nickname continues to elude me."

"Quiet, loverboy."

"I-"

"Don't start with me, Paul."

"I've got something to do, see you around." Paul finally said, standing up and escaping his smirking friend.

He walked off, turning once to try and catch another, little, glance of Eilidh, and in that instant, the very girl walked straight into him, toppling over and getting them both completely tangled up in her exceedingly long red scarf.

Eilidh found herself literally nose-to-nose with the object of her affections.

She blushed furiously as a few catcalls (in Jack and Minerva's distinctive dulcet tones) washed over her.

"Hi..." she awkwardly said in little over a whisper.

Paul looked even more mortified than she did, if that was even possible.

"Hi..." he replied, fruitlessly moving his arms in an effort to escape the scarf. Un(?)fortunately, he found he was completely and utterly stuck.

"We might be here for a while." he told Eilidh.

"Oh, this is all my fault. Stupid scarf." Eilidh berated herself.

Paul smiled a little at her. "I don't mind - well, that is, I don't have anywhere to go - well, um..." he rambled slightly.

Jack walked past, followed by Minerva. "See you later, lovebirds!" they called, high-fiving.