Off to the Side: Sunstreaker

I see it in his optics on you. In the way his fingers linger on your shoulder. I see it in your optics on him, your fingers brushing his leg. I hear it in the lilt in your voice as you sing his name.

I know the truth. Deny it to your friends as they joke and tease you about your attempts at attention. You can't hide it from me. I know you too well. And you know what?

I hate him for it.

You have your pick of any member of this unit and you choose the one mech that could cost us everything. Prime takes fraternizing seriously. He could throw you in the brig, or worse strip you of rank and the Autobot insignia. Where would that leave me? I'll go crazy if I can't beat some cons to slag and I'm not insane enough to do it without backup.

Primus, Sideswipe, why? Why? Why Prowl? Why not Bluestreak? Warpath? Tracks? Slaggit even smeltin' little Gears would have been preferable. None of them would have cost us everything.

Those thoughts carried me into the control center. I'm not going to lose Sideswipe to you!

It felt good to see that look of shock cross the tactician's face. Not even when Smokescreen scratched my paint did I deter from my goal.

"Don't act stupid!"

I felt justified, seeing Prowl reel from my blows, from my words. For that I could ignore Ironhide's rough handling.

"What are you talking about?" You can't fool me with that innocent act. I've seen the signs.

"You know what I mean."

I stood in the brig, distracting myself from my anger by grumbling about my paint job. I wasn't really surprised when 5 megacycles later, Ironhide dragged me to Prowl's office.

"Thank you, Ironhide. I'll take it from here."

I leveled a glare at my escort and jerked my shoulder out of the Security Director's grasp. He left, grumbling through his dental plates.

Prowl watched me for a few klicks in silence, his hands clasped on his desk. I knew that look on his face. The contemplative 'what am I going to do with this idiot to make his listen' look. His doorwings stood rigid behind him. I glared defiantly back. Slag to Primus if I was going to say something first.

Prowl stood, his fingers grazing the console on his desk. He came around his desk, hands tucked behind his back. He walked up to me and I took a step back as he stood chest to chest to me. Something cold, calculating and dangerous lay within those azure optics.

"I thought you might like to see the remnants of your handiwork."

I glared down at Prowl. He didn't need to stand so close, I could've seen them just fine from where I stood.

"As you may imagine, Prime and Ironhide are both expecting me to charge you with assault."

Of course.

"However, there are extenuating circumstances that they are not aware of. I will have to give you some kind punishment, for you did strike an officer. How severe will depend on why you saw fit to put dents in my face plate." Prowl backed away, his optics glinting.

I glared at Prowl. If I answered, I'd get Sideswipe in trouble.

"We need to talk, Sunstreaker, and we need to be quick. It won't be long before the camera comes back online."

I tried to wrap my cortex around that. Prowl had taken out the camera in his office.

"You know perfectly well why I did that." I advanced and Prowl dodged my reaching hands. "Why don't you give me a reason not to do it again?" Slag, the cameras were off, so it didn't matter what we said. "Do you realize how much trouble Sideswipe will be in if you get caught?"

The Enforcer's speed surprised me. He swept me around, both of us grunting as we hit the floor. "You don't think I realize the consequences of our actions," he hissed in my audio horn. "You think that I don't know? I have seen Prime abandon mechs for this, stripped of weapons and out in the wastelands."

I shoved myself up with my superior strength and glared at Prowl. "Then why? Why are you putting Sideswipe in danger? Why not one of the other officers? Ultra Magnus? Ratchet? Slag, why not Kup for Primus' sake? You're both boorish enough!"

"It's not just my decision, but Sides' as well. Does your brother's happiness mean nothing to you?"

I threw a fist at the black and white Enforcer. "Of course it does! But how can he be happy constantly hiding how he feels from everyone."

He lightly sidestepped my swing. "I don't suppose you've talked to Sideswipe about that?" Frag Prowl and that cool collected voice of his. "Have you asked him how he feels about this?"

I straighten to glare down at the infuriating little Enforcer. "What could you possible like about him? You're as alike as-"

"Hound and Mirage?"

My optics narrowed. "I was going to say me and Tracks."

He started chuckling. I had never heard him chuckle before. It was kinda… creepy. So was the smile.

"That's actually appropriate." His optics dimmed slightly. "We're more alike than you might imagine."

"You are?"

His stern façade dropped a micron, and the light in his optics softened. "Yes."

I was too shocked to be offended that he dared imply I was anything like Tracks. Still, there was affection, real affection on his face. Dare I might say it, but the slagger might truly love my brother.

Could it be that Sideswipe might actually feel the same?

"I'll talk to Sideswipe," I conceded, "but if you betray him, Prowl, I promise you that you will suffer worse than anything he'll go through."

Prowl's optics hardened. "If that were to happen, then there's nothing you can do that will be worse than knowing that I hurt him." He glanced toward the camera. "Will we be able to count on your help?" He murmured.

"To keep Sides out of trouble, yeah."

He nodded and headed for his desk. Then he began to lay into me about striking him, but without his usual vehemence. Even though he held his doorwings rigid, his appreciation shone in his optics.

Prowl let me off relatively easy, considering. Sideswipe came into our quarters and strode right up to me.

"And?"

I couldn't help myself. "And?"

He tilted his head, brow ridge lifting. "And?"

I returned the tilt, narrowing my optics. "Prowl?"

He shrugged, an embarrassed smirk on his face. "Prowl."

I threw my hands into the air. "Why?"

He shrugged again, his smile turning helpless. "'Cause."

I frowned and considered him. Finally I shook my head. "Fine."

He rested his hand on my shoulder and his optics softened. "Thanks."

"Sure." Just don't get all squishy on me, bro.

I'd heard the rumors of course: Jazz and Prowl, Prowl and Jazz. I had my suspicions, but I kept them to myself. I wanted nothing more than to beat the rumor out of nosy gossipbots. Sideswipe laughed it off that Jazz would only be so lucky.

Then I saw Prowl stagger out of Jazz's quarters. He was so worn out that he didn't even notice me. My circuits burned with the desire to strike him. Sideswipe had gone out to meet the slagger earlier that evening, and, even though he never said it, I knew he'd been refused. But the fragging Datsun could go to Jazz and give Jazz what he wouldn't give my brother? I glared at Jazz as the door closed then turned to watch Prowl enter his quarters.

I didn't say anything to Sideswipe, I wanted to make sure of it. Prowl could have stopped by Jazz's quarters for something duty related before recharge. Not likely, but possible.

I watched and waited.

I made every excuse I could think of to linger around the officer's quarters until I saw Jazz step into the hall. Neither he nor the fragging Datsun noticed me, so I caught him and questioned him.

Nine years? Nine slagging years!

I made sure Jazz went into his own quarters before I left the hall, fists clenched. I headed for the washracks to clean the filth that had accumulated on me from hanging around that fragger's door. It didn't help my mood any. Even applying wax to my paint didn't calm me down.

While there I plotted.

Sides wouldn't be back until late into the morning. He and that piece of scrap had several ways of arranging a meeting. A few of them used me.

It was too easy. Prowl readily accepted the invitation.

"Sunstreaker?" I could see the surprise in his fragged impassive face. "Where's Sideswipe?"

I didn't say anything. I let my fist do the talking. His mandible cracked under my blow. He staggered backward in a grim parody of the day I found he was shagging Sideswipe. But there was no Ironhide, no Smokescreen, no Jazz to stop me this time. He caught my wrist, warding off the next blow.

"Sunstreaker?"

Well, I can't have you calling for slagging help, now can I? I ripped out his comm link. I knew that he realized I meant business then, and he fought back with all his might. It wasn't enough against my strength. His gun crumpled easily in my grip and dropped to the ground.

I'm sure he didn't think so, but I was careful. I didn't want the sorry slagsucker to die before Sideswipe had a chance at him. He should have known better than to frag with my brother, to douse my brother's spark. Any slight to him, was an insult to me. And this afthead had just ripped out Sideswipe's emotion circuits, leaving only cold wires in their place. I'll be smelted before I let that fragging stand.

I didn't want to talk to the slagger, despite his repeated attempts to get a word in edgewise. It wasn't my place to say anything to him, just beat the circuits out of him. I'll let Sideswipe do the talking, if he's so inclined. Who knows, maybe he won't waste words on this lying piece of scrap. Sometimes my brother has some sense.

The fragger kept trying to get me to stop. A quick blow to his throat silenced his vocalizer, shutting him up. I shredded the doorwings my brother so loved, and I ripped off the proud red chevron he admired. That seemed to take the fight out of Sides' beloved tactician.

He sagged to the ground, air wheezing out of his vents, systems whirring with pain. Glass tumbled out of one of his optics, joining the debris that littered the ground. I kicked him a few times until the light in his optics dimmed.

I'm not completely sparkless, I put out a distress beacon for him and then I transformed and threw dirt on him as I rolled back to base.

"Sideswipe, meet me at the washracks."

I took a wide route, to avoid the Autobots answering the distress signal. I don't give a fragged Seeker Trine about getting thrown in the brig. I expected it. Slag, I expected Prowl to see to it himself, whenever he could stand again, that is. But I had to talk to Sides first!

I ignored the strange looks I received for coming back looking less than my perfect self: energon splatters on my roof and hood, body dented and scratched. I transformed when I reached the washracks and stepped under a sensor activated shower-head.

In one of my hands I held the only trophy I had taken from my enemy. I held a cloth in the other, wiping away the spatter and paint marks.

"I wonder who the poor slagger is that's in trouble. Ha! Ratchet's going to have a field day with his aft!" I looked up when I heard Sideswipe enter, so I didn't miss the grin that faded from his face. "Primus, bro. What happened?"

"Don't worry, I saved Jazz for you."

"What? What are you talking about?" His gaze tracked down to my hand, as though he could read my processor. His optics bleached to white and widened. He reeled away from me, horror-stricken. It sent another surge of hatred toward the slagging Datsun to see that kind of pain on my brother's face.

I tossed my trophy, and he caught it in pure reflex. He stared down at the twisted red metal in his hand before he looked back up at me. "Sunny… what did you do?"

Author's Notes: Here's hoping the next chapter ends with this resolved. --;; I miscalculated the number of chapters I had left to do. Now it's three chapters. ;;