Title: No More Mr. Nice Guy

Author: Tirya King

Category: Humor/Humor

Rating: T (just in case)

Feedback: Of course!

Summary: G1. Sideswipe goes a bit too far with his pranks and Prowl is fed up. It's time to stop being professional and start getting down and dirty.

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Transformers sadly enough. The song that served as the inspiration comes from an animated version of 'Swan Lake.' See A/N for details.

A/N: This is the humor fic I promised in response to my sad ones. Ok, a little explanation is in order: way back when little Tirya was knee high to a mushroom, she saw a cartoon version of 'Swan Lake' called 'The Swan Princess.' In it there is an obligatory villain song. Years later, little Tirya gave it to her little cousin while babysitting and they watched it together. The obligatory villain song suddenly made much more sense and a plot-bunny hatched, giving Tirya a serious case of the giggles. And she hopes you enjoy this as much as she does. The lyrics will be posted at the conclusion of the story since there's really nowhere else to put them.

Special thanks go out to PuraJazzbot, Mariashadow, Uftaki, and Seiberwing and everyone else for being oh so patient with me! Your support is great, thank you!

No More Mr. Nice Guy

Part One: Stuck on You

Prowl was going to kill Sideswipe.

No doubt about it. The red Lamborghini warrior from the slimy underbelly of the Inferno was going to rue the day he messed with his Vice Commander. The Datsun was going to shoot Sideswipe into all little kinds of red and ebony matchbox cars. His head was going to be displayed proudly on Prowl's desk, proclaiming to all that one had better not cross him lest they join the new collection. Yes, it would be sadistic and cruel and mech fluidy and everything a Decepticon would whole-heartedly approve of.

Now if he could only stand up, he'd be able to begin the slaughter.

As it was, poor Prowl wasn't going to be rising from his recharge berth any time soon. Somehow during the night, the young red hellion had snuck into his quarters with what had to be the world's supply of linked bungee cords and firmly attached his superior to the cot. The strength of the little cords were such that in this high density, no one, not even an Autobot warrior, could snap them.

So firmly secured to his cot and unable to reach his communicator or snap the cords, Prowl was subjected to staring at his ceiling that sported, in Sideswipe's quite unique handwriting, a statement wishing him a relaxing day since he was working too hard and deserved a break.

And what was worse was that many of their colleagues would probably be inclined to agree with the crimson demon child and let him stay there all tied up. He sighed derisively. Slackers. They only thought he worked too hard because they didn't work hard enough. Was it his fault he liked to be efficient at his job? If he wasn't acting like the strict mother around here, nothing would get done at all! The taciturn Prowl dreaded to think of what Jazz's reaction would be to his predicament.

That is, if he ever bothered to come find him.

Being the ever-reliable and responsible Prowl, mighty Vice Commander of the elite Autobot force, did have its drawbacks. He was a busy mech and never shirked his duties. This, anyone knew beyond a shadow of a doubt. Therefore, any absences noted on his part would only be written off as him seeing to something more important. What was more important than his duties, no one need ever know. After all, they were just the poor grunts, right?

Which meant that he may very well shut down from starvation before anyone actually wondered just where their dear Prowl was. He at least hoped Sideswipe would have the decency to release him before then. Prowl was a personal favorite of all the red warrior's victims, so he figured that it would be in the young one's best interests to keep his prey alive as long as possible.

A wicked smile came to his face, making the normally neutral face appear as sinister as his most impish warrior. Sideswipe would be begging for death before the end. That Prowl knew for certain.

He was sick of being the prey all the time.

This time, it was the imp who would suffer.

The game was afoot.

Sideswipe was going down.

In flames if Prowl had anything to say about it. And, he mused, staring at the scrawled handwriting on the ceiling as though it held the secrets to the universe, he had quite a bit to say about the matter. And plenty of time.


"Hey, there you are, man!"

Prowl nodded easily to Jazz who greeted him cheerfully from his seat at the console. In his absence, the Special Operations officer had taken over in some of his duties. He was proud of his younger friend for filling in without being asked. He had the true makings of a leader if only he would step up more often. It was something he could do very naturally which was why he ranked 5th in the chain of command. His skills would be needed, but not to the extent of Prowl or Ironhide who had to be ready to take command at any moment.

"Did any situation arise in my absence?" Prowl asked, coming up to stand behind his friend to look over the various read-outs. Everything seemed alright at least.

"Nah, quiet as can be. You alright to take over?" He did have other duties, but nothing that couldn't wait.

"Yes, thank you for your help, Jazz." The Datsun took his seat, eager to be back to work. His momentary… diversion was over at last due to some innovative thinking. Prowl wanted nothing more to return to the life of a Vice-Commander once more. With some stipulations now of course.

Jazz waved off the gratitude with a grin. "Any time, buddy. Right now I gotta scat before Mirage and Hound start briefing themselves. See you later."

Prowl nodded, the Special Ops officer's attitude only reaffirming what he knew. No one would question where he had been or what he had been doing. The mere thought of their uptight, stoic tactician even bending the rules was laughable.

Good. That would make his job that much easier.

He let a smile peek through at the edges as he sat back and relaxed.

About a half hour later, the jaunty bounce of a young mech entered Prowl's audio sensors. The bounce of one so secure in their position on the food chain it was almost sad. Almost.

"Just the mech I wanted to see," the tactician practically purred, swiveling in his chair to face the child of the Unmaker himself in all his crimson glory. "Good afternoon, Sideswipe."

A slight widening of vibrant blue optics was the only indication of the warrior's surprise at seeing his prey sprung from his trap so soon. But his easy smile didn't waver in the slightest and the lightness of his step continued. He would not be caught. He was much too good for that. The perfect alibi, the undeniable charm, the devastating good looks… there was nothing to fear from a mech who had nothing on him.

Ah, the Datsun mentally nodded. So Sideswipe intended to be blamed, did he? The extra sparkle in his optics told all; that he expected Prowl to give the standard accusation, verdict, and punishment right away. And the perfect excuse was just waiting on the warrior's lips, needing only Prowl's word to begin their usual conversation. It was a dance both knew very well and Sideswipe was fully prepared.

"I have come to a conclusion," Prowl went on smoothly. "And I have decided to declare war."

Sideswipe's optics went a little bit wider. That wasn't in the script. Prowl was supposed to accuse him so he could deliver his line. The excuse died on his lips as his processor struggled to adapt to the change. "War?" he smiled easily, fully caught up in a sparkbeat. "I hate to disappoint you, Prowl, but we're already in one. You're 5 million years too late."

"Not on the Decepticons, Sideswipe," he shook his head patronizingly. "They're the least of my worries. Child's play as the humans might put it." He stood up, and approached the young scarlet demon-spawn. Though he was shorter by at least a head, Prowl was very much in charge here and Sideswipe was just beginning to figure that out. The roles of prey and predator were beginning to reverse.

"I used to think," he continued, "that your brother would be the death of me. After all, he is the cause of at least half the infighting on base. But then I wondered if I wasn't looking at the wrong Lamborghini. This morning I was able to clear my processor and reassess my priorities. I have decided to declare war on you, my little red friend. You and I shall henceforth be on opposing forces."

"What?" Sideswipe asked, puzzled. "I don't get it."

"It's quite simple and I have no doubt you will learn the rules quickly. In the meanwhile, you sit down here," Prowl moved him to a chair. "Watch that monitor." He pointed. "And press that button," he pointed again, "if you see anything unusual."

A little insulted as he did know how to do security monitor duty, Sideswipe looked up at his superior. "And what will you be doing?" he asked insolently, a bit miffed at being thwarted from his original destination. His brother was waiting for him so they could grab a few bots and play a good game of Ultimate Mini-bot. Much like the human game of Ultimate Frisbee with a few altered rules.

"I will be catching up on all the work you prevented me from this morning," Prowl replied, not sounding the least bit upset over the delay.

The impish look returned to the red melee warrior. He puffed up a little, growing more confident by the cycle. Ah, now they were back where they belonged. His territory. "But Prowl, how could I have done anyth…"

"Shut up, Sideswipe."

There was silence for a moment following that curt order as Sideswipe just look at his Vice-Commander with the most surprised look. He struggled to make sense of what he had just heard. Prowl had never told anyone to shut up no matter how exasperated he became. It required far too few syllables. It wasn't a proper thing for a high ranking Autobot to use. It wasn't even in his vocabulary. Who was this mech and what had he done to the real Prowl?

The alleged imposter turned his back and walked toward the hallway that would ultimately lead to his office, not concerned at Sideswipe's continued silence. He'd always wanted to render the little gremlin speechless and now that he'd done it, it felt rather fulfilling. "Oh and Sideswipe?" he added, turning back at the last moment.

The red melee warrior just nodded, still looking like a large red deer facing the headlights.

"Send Ratchet my compliments and be sure to thank him for me."

Ratchet? Why in the world would Sideswipe go see the CMO unless he was deathly injured? Ratchet had a tendency of throwing things when he saw either brother in his medical bay unless they were hurt. Sometimes even when they were hurt. And he had a damn killer arm too. But oh no, no one else received the same abuse. It wasn't like he and Sunstreaker were the designated scapegoats of the Ark or anything.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, swiveling right and left with his feet propped on the counter. It was a shame that Prowl had gotten free so soon. He was hoping at least for half a day of freedom. Where had he gone wrong? He was sure he had enough bungee cords…

Ah well, there was always next time. And if he was going to be here for the next few megacycles, he may as well enjoy himself. A cup of warm energon would be just the thing to cheer him up from his disappointment. And he knew there was one with his name on it waiting in the lounge. No one would miss him for a few nanoclicks.

There was only one problem though.

He couldn't get up.

His back, his arms, his backside… they were all quite firmly secured to the chair. Squirming this way and that, the young warrior tried his hardest to be free. What was going on? Had Windcharger accidentally magnetized the room again? That couldn't be it; Prowl had gotten up very easily from his own chair when he entered the room.

Suddenly it hit him. Why that sly little Datsun; he set him up! And he didn't even bother to hide it, so naturally it was overlooked. However, he grossly underestimated Sideswipe if he thought a little adhesive was going to curb his playful tendencies. This was supposed to teach him a lesson? He wasn't known as the resident prankster for nothing. Freedom was only an ingenious scheme away.

Half a megacycle later, Sideswipe had to admit that he'd met his match. Whatever his superior had used worked like nothing he'd ever seen before. And he'd known his share of super-glues in his day. Trying one last time before giving in to defeat and hollering for help, he hooked his feet under the counter and pulled with all his considerable might. Groaning with the strain, he missed the chair's own groan as it moved with him. With a sudden jerk, the chair became entirely dislodged from its bolted spot on the floor and Sideswipe went down in a surprised heap of red, ebony, and silver.

The floor thankfully muffled the quite colorful and inventive metaphors Sideswipe directed at his adversary as he struggled to get his feet beneath him. And it was only through sheer will that he managed to stand up all the way… or at least as up as being stuck in a seated position would allow. As it was, he looked remarkably similar to a large crimson turtle with a silver shell and tail.

What in the name of Primus was he going to do? Any minute now the shifts would switch and everyone would be able to see their prankster the helpless victim of a prank himself. While he was not so easily embarrassed, he did have a thing against being used for amusement. The great Sideswipe was the creator of pranks. Never the victim.

"Oh no," he moaned, finally remembering his superior's departing words. Now he knew where the adhesive had come from. Quite sick of bots like Ironhide and Brawn leaping up in the middle of a procedure, Ratchet had designed an adhesive that would keep them firmly put. And as it was of his own design, only he knew how to remove it. "Prowl, you're molten slag when I get out of this!"

Feebly hobbling toward the med bay, a med bay located at the opposite side of the base, Sideswipe hoped to make it before the shifts changed. Today, however, was not his day for only half way there, he was met with a pack of Autobots going to and fro. What had he done in a past life to deserve this?

Shutting down his audios to the loud guffaws and howls of laughter from all sides, Sideswipe ran his processor into overdrive. Coming up with idea after idea. Anything to keep his mind off the humiliation and doom that awaited him only a few more feet away in the shape of a big white bot with a laser scalpel and damn killer arm.

So Prowl wanted a prank war did he?

Let the games begin.

End Part One

A/N: As of now, there are 7 chapters planned, but any and all thoughts are welcome. I apologize if Prowl might seem a bit quirky. I'm trying my hardest to keep him believable and in character. I am convinced that he has a mischievous side in there somewhere. I just have to find it.

A/N 2: I've decided to write a third installment to 'No Longer Mourn' and 'Thou Art Too Dear', but it won't be done for a while since I'd like to do it right rather than rush it. If you have any ideas on how I should handle it, I'd love to hear them! In the meanwhile, I hope you enjoy this one. It's a lot of fun to write.