Title: Searching for Sparks

Rating: K+

Continuity: G1?

Characters: Prowl, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker

Disclaimer: Don't own

Prompt: 3. Setting: In a junk yard.

Prowl stumbled as his foot caught on a broken shard of metal, and his doorwings flared out to compensate for the sudden shift in balance. He knew it was rather stupid to come out here alone, but a flyover patrol had reported a spark signature.

The tactician could handle a single mech easily enough. He had also not been on patrol in quite some time, and, despite the rumors, did occasionally get a bit stir-crazy. So he had volunteered to investigate.

Which had brought him to this scrap yard.

Once, it had been a small town, out on the very edge of Iacon's borders. Now, all that remained was bombed out shells of buildings, ruined shards of metal, and the occasional empty frame. Nothing but waste and garbage.

And one, lonely spark signature.

Prowl continued on, heedless of the multitude of scrapes he was suffering on his legs and feet from the jagged spikes of scorched metal littering the ground. The sensors in his doorwings had picked up the spark signature, and he was determined to follow it, to find it.

If it was a Decepticon, he would kill him. If it was an Autobot, he would lead him back to base. If it was a Neutral, he would either leave him be or take him back to base for relocation.

The spark signature was close, now.

A curse echoed through the still air, and Prowl froze, save for his doorwings, which flicked even more erratically. The spark signature. The mech. Right in front of him.

Slowly, the tactician crept up to the broken wall and peered around it. A red mech was standing with his back to Prowl, shoulders hunched, crouched low, both hands in front of him.

Stifling a vent, Prowl pulled back. This was where things got tricky. He could see no symbol, and no faction identity was registering on his sensors. The faction ident could be hidden easily enough. The symbol could simply be on his front, where Prowl couldn't see it.

Numbers were already streaming from his battle computer. Possibilities, probabilities...

The best course of action, he decided barely a klik later, would be to show himself but have a weapon ready.

So he unsubspaced his rifle, but kept it pointed at the ground as he stepped around the corner.

The red mech whirled around immediately, before Prowl had a chance to announce himself. There was a long knife in his hands, and a snarl on his face.

"Who are you?" he growled as he settled into a practiced, natural fighting stance.

Prowl stopped and tucked his doorwings behind his back. The mech knew his way around a fight. Not that the tactician didn't, but he did want to avoid altercations, if at all possible. "I am Prowl," he answered softly, keeping his voice low and steady.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled, side-stepping to the left. The slow, deliberate steps were telling, even if only that he knew the ground around him.

"I merely came to investigate a spark signature," Prowl said, moving only enough to keep the mech directly in front of him. He did not want that knife anywhere out of his field of vision, and, though he could sense what was behind himself perfectly well with his doorwings, he was more comfortable if we was facing the threat.

Then something caught his attention. Movement, quiet, close.

And a knife was pressed up to the cabling in the back of his neck, and a frame pressed against his doorwings, pinning them to his back.

"Why?" the red mech snarled as Prowl fought off a lock-up. There was only one spark signature. He was still reading only one! But he could, now, clearly sense the mech pressed up against him. But there was only one signature!

The tactician blinked. "You are in Autobot territory," he stated, slowly overcoming the surprise. Bondmates, maybe, with a high level of spark synchronicity? "It is prudent to identify strangers in your protected land," he added.

The mech at his back stiffened, as did the red mech.

"Autobots? You're an Autobot?"

Prowl wasn't sure what to make of the tone. He couldn't decide if it was hostile or hopeful or something else entirely. "Yes," he said, concentrating on making sure his doorwings did not twitch. "I am Prowl, Chief Tactical Officer and Second in Command."

The pressure at the back of his neck lessened. "They send the Primus fragging Second in Command out to look for a strange spark signature?" the red mech practically laughed, optics wide, expression somewhere between stunned surprise and disbelief.

"I volunteered. I... needed to get out of the base."

The knife pulled away entirely, and the mech stepped back. Prowl twitched his wings up, then stepped to the side, moving to take in both of them.

It was then that he realized why he could only sense one spark. The similar frames, the way they so easily moved next to each other, the way that, now that he was scanning, their sparks registered as two halves of a whole...

"Twins," he breathed, staring.

The yellow mech, the one who had been standing behind him, snarled, his beautiful face twisting into an ugly expression. "So what?"

A touchy subject, then. "I have never encountered Twins before," he said carefully. "It explains the single spark signature."

The two did not exchange any sort of glance or words, but they moved together, slowly stalking toward the tactician. Prowl did not allow himself to back up.

Instead, he straightened as they approached, doorwings flaring out. "I came to do one of three things. Had you been a Decepticon, I would have killed you. Had you been an Autobot, I would have brought you back to base. But you are Neutral, which means I can leave you alone if you wish. Or I can take you back to base for relocation."

Now, the Twins exchanged a glance. "How about something else?" the yellow one suggested, smirking slightly.

"Yeah. How about you take us back to base, but you don't ship us out. Instead, how 'bout you keep us."

"Keep... You mean to imply that you wish to become Autobots?"

The yellow mech snorted, air gusting noisily from his vents. "We want revenge. Best way to do that is joining up."

"What Sunny said. So. You'll take us?"

Prowl took a fraction of a moment to let his battle computer update. They both held themselves like warriors. Both stood like they knew how to fight.

The Autobots were in desperate need of good fighters.

"I will," he said, nodding slightly. "Welcome to the Autobots."