#transformera

Jazz: Yes~?

Prowl: I would like to keep this between us

Jazz, excited: Of course

Prowl: .... Bumblebee has been filing data wrong

Jazz: ...

Prowl: This is unacceptable, Jazz

_________

1.

Sideswipe was up to something.

Two weeks without a single prank. No angry Minibots, no Tracks storming into his office complaining about about how the red heathen had painted him hot pink, no Ratchet hollering about everything in his office being glued to the ceiling. Nothing.

Prowl hadn’t received a single complaint about the frontliner.

It was unnerving, to say the least. By now, Sideswipe was usually in the brig, either lazing smugly in his favourite spot or making crude gestures at the cameras that often sent Red Alert fritzing.

Suspicion and caution lingered in the back of his processor for each work hour that didn’t entail the familiar angry yelling of an unfortunate victim.

But it was quiet, and his workload had lessened without the added reports on whatever punishment detail he dished out to the Lamborghini.

Prowl wasn’t stupid enough to let his guard down, however, and was still on high alert when he finished his shift, door wings arched on his back as he made his way to the rec room.

Only a few off duty bots milled around, sipping cubes over a table while they chattered excitedly. Sideswipe was among them, leaning against his brother while he and Smokescreen snarked at each other. Sunstreaker’s expression was bland, half listening to Sideswipe as he scowled at the gambler.

They took no notice of him as he drifted through the crowd to the energon dispenser.

Prowl had just wanted to grab a cube and leave- he preferred the quiet and peace of his own office- but before he could even enter the code for his ration, a cheerful, /familiar/ voice was crowing joyfully at him.

“Prowl!” Sideswipe called, leaning back in his chair, head hanging over the back of it as he gazed at Prowl with sparkling optics.

He grinned, ignoring the frown that was shot at him, and waved the tactician over.

Prowl, against his better judgement, obliged.

“Can I help you with something?”

The expression on the frontliners face turned crude, “In the berth? Not today-“

Prowl raised a hand, optics going skyward despite his rigid attempt to keep the flash of amusement from pulsing through his E.M field.

The last thing he wanted to do was encourage the menace.

“Get to the point, Sideswipe.”

Sunstreaker’s lips pursed, and he shot Prowl a particularly nasty look.

Sideswipe was unperturbed, face still bright as he unsubspaced something. Two small, human-sized tickets appeared in his hand, and were waved under his nose before he could even get the chance to read what they were for.

“Heard you liked poetry readings.”

The tickets were still brandished between the two, but Prowl didn’t move to take them.

“And just who,” Prowl started, optics flickering over the room to land on Jazz, who had slouched ridiculously low in his chair in an attempt to hide, “Told you that?”

Sideswipe shrugged, still grinning, “A friend.”

Prowl narrowed his optics, “And what are you going to do if I were to go? Use my absence to your advantage and turn all the halls into water slides?”

“That was one time!”

“I’m not stupid, Sideswipe.”

The expression on the frontliners face fell, and he lowered his hand.

“But they’re-

Prowl shook his head, and offered a flat “it was a nice try’ before he turned on his heel, door wings aloft as he strode from the room, Energon cube forgotten.

“-for the two of us,” Sideswipe trailed off, looking both bemused and downtrodden.

He watched Prowl leave, taking a second to admire the Praxian’s doorwings, and ignored the sympathetic pat Sunstreaker gave his shoulder.

2.

Sideswipe thought he had a good deal of practice with socially inept mechs.

His brother, for example, couldn’t catch a social cue if it hit him right in the face. Which was fine. He didn’t see anything wrong with being an introvert and struggling in situations where others strived.

So breaking through Prowl’s tight emotional barrier should have been easy.

It wasn’t until his spectacular ‘poetry reading as a date’ plan backfired rather fantastically that he realised it would take a little more time.

And thinking.

Prowl scheduling them both for patrol, however, was a significant help.

It also put Sideswipe in a particularly good mood as he strolled down the hall to the tactician’s office, spark pushing pulses of excitement at his brother, which were returned half heartedly.

Prowl’s office was usually reserved for punishment, and lectures, but this time the grey door actually looked welcoming.

Perhaps his excitement was starting to delude him.

“Come in,” A flat voice echoed before he could even move to knock.

“Prowl,” Sideswipe greeted, grinning stupidly as he stepped inside, “How are you?”

“What did you do now?”

“Actually,” Sideswipe started, ignoring the jab, “I came here to talk about patrol.”

“Ah, yes.” Prowl nodded, and absently straightened the datapads on his desk. “Most Autobots are still recovering in the med-bay, and are unable to perform their usual duties. If you have any complaint-‘

“I’m not complaining,” Sideswipe interrupted hurriedly, “I mean, I think it’ll be fun.”

“Fun?”

The frontliner nodded, and rubbed at his neck, “Yeah. And when we’re done I was thinking we could-“

The wail of the Ark’s alarm system was the only warning they got before the right wall of Prowl’s office collapsed in an eruption of orange, spraying rock over the pristine floors as the two were sent hurtling across the room.

They landed with a thud, pained groans swallowed by the yelling and sounds of shooting outside the door.

Sideswipe scowled, arms straining as he shakily pushed himself to his feet, vents struggling to flush the smoke from his systems.

Rubble cascaded down from the roof, it’s bright orange now ruined with soot.

He looked around, battle programming humming to life as he unsubspaced his gun.

A strangled whine jabbed painfully at his audials, before another thump rang out through the office.

Sideswipe paused, and glanced down.

Prowl was knocked out cold.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

3.

Funnily enough, two weeks after the Decepticon attack, Sideswipe managed to get the patrol he was robbed of.

Prowl’s battle computer was knocked loose, and it had taken him a week to recover from the hard knock to his helm. But when he was released, Sideswipe found the tacticians own name back on the duty list, right next to his.

Sideswipe had asked why, but Prowl simply told him that he wasn’t one to ‘shirk his duties’.

Not that either of them were complaining.

“Nice view,” Sideswipe said, veering closer to the Praxian.

Prowl didn’t notice the intrusion of space, sensors too busy scanning the sunset that receded in a blur behind him.

“Earth does have beautiful weather,” He agreed after a second, feeling oddly content. The air was cool, and Sideswipe, for once, was being serene.

“I wasn’t talking about the sky.”

“What, then?”

If Sideswipe was able to facepalm in his alt mode, he would have.

“Nevermind.”

Prowl did the equivalent of a shrug, not bothered by the array of strange Sideswipe behaviors. Sideswipe acting weirdly wasn’t out of character, and the extent he went to get a reaction of people wasn’t limited to a personality change.

“Soooo,” Sideswipe started, twisting back on his wheels playfully, “There’s this lookout Sunny really likes to go to. Ya’ know, for inspiration and stuff.”

Prowl didn’t, but he hummed anyway.

“Is it part of the patrol route?”

“No, but we could go to it after.”

“Why?”

Sideswipe’s engine rumbled, musing silently for an explanation that would appeal to Prowl.

“It overlooks the ocean. And the Decepticon’s live in the ocean.”

“So you want to take extra time out of your off duty period to watch for the enemy?”

Sideswipe’s E.M field pulsed pleasantly, and his spark did an affectionate flip that made Sunstreaker retreat back from their bond with a repulsed shove.

“Sure.”

Prowl checked his internal chronometer, calculating whether he would have enough time to appease… whatever it was Sideswipe wanted to do.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

Sideswipe nudged Prowl’s E.M field happily. “Great! Race you.”

And then he was off, wheels spinning against the gravel as he booked it, ignoring Prowl’s shout of outrage over their Comms, and his threat to leave him with the police if he got pulled over again.

4

Prowl was still convinced Sideswipe was up to something.

Jazz had continually tried to dismiss his worries, and backed up the frontliners innocence, claiming that ‘sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do’.

Prowl had scowled, and slammed the door in his best friends face.

Sideswipe usually had ulterior motives. He liked to play games, and liked a laugh whenever he could get one. And Prowl wasn’t usually his go-to-mech if he wanted to ‘hang out’ and have fun.

It was strange.

So when Sunstreaker cornered him in the hall outside his office, rattling about how obtuse he was, Prowl was confused.

“What?”

The yellow twin scowled, optics narrowing distastefully.

“How have you not noticed?”