Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.
A/N: Hey everyone, Onoro here. Just to let you know, this was a quick tribute that Natsumi did for St. Patrick's Day. She hopes that you all enjoy this, and asks that you please leave her a little review. Thank you very much.
Bluestreak has never really been one to get into trouble. Now, if the twins are involved, or a dare, or occasionally somebot who's been a jerk to him, that's something else. But for the most part, he's a good kid. So when the Ark woke up to someone roaring his name loud enough for everyone to hear, naturally, there were two reactions. One: confusion; two, what did the twins say now?
As they groggily made their way out of their quarters, it was with surprise and barely suppressed laughter that they took in the scene as it came. Bluestreak cam racing down the halls, frantic and slightly distressed, followed shortly after by a partially green Prowl, his face like thunder and his lights and sirens blaring. Behind Prowl was a hysterically laughing Jazz, staggering as he ran to keep up with them, a recording drone in his hands.
Bluestreak chanced a look behind him after passing Cliffjumper, who didn't bother to hold in his laughter as the trio passed. He called out to Jazz to get him a copy, just as they rounded a corner.
"Bluestreak, get your aft back here, NOW!" Prowl yelled. The only response to this was a squeak from Bluestreak, who hastily quickened his pace. When he rounded the next corner a few door down, he was faced with his door. Almost crying out in relief, he quickly typed in his code, ran inside and hid under one of the thermal blankets he kept on his berth. For a moment, the tension fled his systems, leaving him relaxed and relieved to have escaped Prowl's wrath.
Until he remembered that as the SIC, Prowl had override codes to almost everywhere in the Ark. Including private quarters. Like his private quarters.
Quickly, Bluestreak sprang up, braced himself against a wall as his optics locked onto Prowl's. Calmly, as if the chase in the hallway had never happened, he entered in. Jazz stood outside, a huge grin on his face; as he held up the device to better capture the action. Only to yell in protest when Prowl closed the door and put his override code into the door panel inside the room.
"And what," Prowl asked as he slowly stalked toward Bluestreak, "did you think you would accomplish with this, Bluestreak?"
Instantly, Bluestreak started babbling. He said that he had to do it, because it was today, and if he didn't do it, someone else might get him or rather several someones, especially the twins, all because he wouldn't be able to prove that he had protection from their grabby hands and he just knew that they'd go for his doorwings and he hated it when people went for them, they were so sensitive, and he had to and please don't be mad!
Prowl stopped the flow of words with a raised hand as he accessed his calendar to determine what Bluestreak was talking about.
Saint Patrick's Day: a human holiday where people wore green or would have to submit to being pinched all day. Ah.
"Bluestreak?" Bluestreak looked up to him, his infamous puppy eyes on full blast. "While I…commend your desire to protect me, perhaps next time, you should inform me first. As it is, you'll have to help me clean most of this off. Seeing as your intentions were good, I suppose that'll be sufficient for your punishment."
"Oh, thank you Prowl, thank you!" Bluestreak shouted as he launched himself at Prowl. Briefly, a smile crossed Prowl's face, before it disappeared, replaced by a small glint in his optics.
"You're not wearing green."