Title: Addictions - Puppy Love Interlude 2
Fandom: Transformers G1 AU
Pairing/Characters: Prowl, Smokescreen, Bluestreak
Word Count: 841
Summary/Warnings: Smokescreen volunteered to tutor the twins - but why?
Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction. No harm was intended in the creation of this work. All rights belong to the original creators
"Are you prepared for tomorrow?"
Smokescreen stirred and turned his head to look at his brother. Prowl kept staring straight ahead, as if the ending credits for the vid they had been watching was the most fascinating thing in the world. Knowing Prowl, they probably were; he always liked to watch the vids to the end, to acknowledge the mechs and femmes responsible for the work they had participated in.
Glancing down, Smokescreen noted that Bluestreak had fallen into recharge across their laps. Caught up in a memory purge, his sensory panels twitched frequently, brushing against Smokescreen's arm. He reached out and gently stroked the nearest edge, soothing their cousin deeper into recharge.
"I suppose so," Smokescreen said, optics tracing the furrowed orbital ridges on Bluestreak's faceplates. It was easier to look at than Prowl's expression.
"You do not sound all that confident," Prowl remarked.
"Confident about the material? Sure. I have tutored before, you know," Smokescreen said crossly, finally glancing up.
A small smile found its way to Prowl's lip components. "Yes, I know. So if it is not the material, then what bothers you?"
Smokescreen shifted in place, wishing Bluestreak wasn't so firmly planted on top of them. He wanted to pace, get some distance between Smokescreen and Prowl's all knowing optics.
"You know what's on my processor, Prowl," Smokescreen replied, crossing his arms over his chassis and looking away.
"It is unlikely that they will recognize you."
"How could they not?" Smokescreen exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. "Three years! Three years of being at nearly every match and one of the loudest cheering them on! Do you know how much money I've made, betting off the two of them?"
Bluestreak stirred, his head blindly turning in response to Smokescreen's raised voice. "Time for work?" he slurred, his processor still obviously mostly shut down.
"No, sweetspark," Prowl said softly, leaning over to pat Bluestreak's shoulder. "It's still nighttime. Go back to recharge." His optics were soft as they traced their cousin's face, now relaxing back into repose at Prowl's reassurance. Prowl's gaze turned rebuking as his optics rose to meet Smokescreen's.
"Sorry," Smokescreen muttered, his own hand resuming its stroking of Bluestreak's helm. Their cousin had been recharging poorly of late, and usually only when either of them were around. Prowl had good reason to look irritated with him for disturbing Bluestreak's well deserved rest.
"You have made a great deal of money off Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's fights," Prowl continued quietly. "But you also managed to identify nearly every member of a notorious gambling ring. I am sure once they heard the explanation they would not hold it against you. If they did remember your faceplates."
"For the first two years," Smokescreen said dryly. "This past year – what was my excuse then, Prowl?"
Prowl's lipplates pursed, and he turned to look back at the blank vid screen. Smokescreen's penchance for gambling had been a point of contrition between them for years. It had been under much protest from Prowl that Smokescreen had been selected for the undercover assignment of ferreting out the identity of each mech involved in the gambling ring.
Yet he had been perfect for the job. It had been a little too easy to portray the mech with a gambling addiction slipping back into old habits. And slipped he did. Even when the ring leaders fell, Smokescreen still regularly visited the dog rings in particular. The precinct had always turned a blind optic because he was Prowl's brother and because they at least had a mech on the inside keeping tabs on things.
"I'm proud of you," Prowl said suddenly, and Smokescreen jerked his head up from where he had been intently scrutinizing his own fingers while experiencing the familiar shame.
Prowl's gaze met his own, his optics burning bright. "I'm proud of you," he repeated. "I know it is a… struggle," he said, referring to Smokescreen's battle against his addiction. "You have greatly decreased your visitations to the fights. And I find it admirable that you would volunteer to do this." Despite the formality of his words and his expressionless faceplates, Smokescreen knew Prowl meant every word of what he said. Smokescreen's spark lurched even as he ducked his head in embarrassment.
"It's only right," Smokescreen muttered. "If I had known…" he said with a shudder.
"But no one did. Or at least no one who cared," Prowl said. "It is fortunate that Ratchet discovered them when he did."
Smokescreen nodded in agreement, still horrified to think what would have happened to Sideswipe if Ratchet hadn't stepped in.
"It's going to be difficult for them," Smokescreen murmured, easily imaging the issues they could have developed under such circumstances.
Prowl frowned, nodding slowly. "Yes. But they have a good caretaker now. And the best of all tutors."
"And a high ranking Enforcer who keeps an optic out for them," Smokescreen returned with a grin. Prowl tilted his head in acknowledgement.
"There is that," he said with a small smile. "There is that."