After several minutes of what felt like his processor spinning, the white and black cop bot had a systems crash. Losing his balance, the mech stumbled to the floor and toppled to hard ground unconscious, due to his accidental consumption of high grade.

At this event, a dull gray mini bot peaked his helm from behind the counter and started chuckling hysterically.

" Oh Primus!" He wheezed, slightly out of breath from laughing. " That was gold! Pure gold!"

Glancing back at a limp Prowl, Sparky burst into another series of laughter, bending over from doing so too much.

" Oh...." he crackled, sitting down against the bar. " This was too good. I can use so much black mail with this!" The crazed bot snickered, having a little too much fun with his prank. Walking out into the open, the mini bot pulled out his data pad to capture this moment...buuut he was stopped unknowingly, when the Third in Command groaned painfully as his internal systems rebooted.

Yelping quietly in surprise, the bot abandoned his pad and escaped to the safety of shelter behind the bar counter.

Slowly extending his helm, Sparky peered around the corner of the counter and nervously watched as the autobot onlined and off-lined his optics several times, but never actually getting up off the ground. Seeing this, the mech was tempted to pull out his data pad, but stopped for two reasons:

1. He had dropped his data pad next to Prowl like a slagging moron.

2. The sound of nearing peds could only mean the femme was.coming, and from the dog described, she would gut him alive if she knew who had done this too him.

So being a smart mech, he valued his life and left his data pad. Although this would inform them that they weren't the only ones on Thema, he still had the upper servo seeing they didn't know who he was or where he lived. As the sound of peds neared, he froze in place when they stopped and the scraping of metal filled his audio receptors. More then likely Commander Airstrike was trying to wake the mech up. Hoping that both were distracted, Sparky took this as his cue and backtracked his steps and left the crashed ship, laughing once more when out of hearing rang, just thinking about the chaos he had just caused.

~

The last thing Airstrike thought she would see was Prowl on the ground, groaning more then likely from pain. Gasping quietly, the airel came to his side and knelt beside him, shaking his white frame, which seemed pale, almost a sickly grayish white color.

" Sir...." she whispered after attempting to rouse him, but the only sign of life she got was his frequent off-lining and onlining of his optic, which had a hazy glaze over it.

" Prowl...Sir." Airstrike said, slightly louder, giving him a.rougher shove. This seemed to push him into consciousness, if that's what you would call it. Getting himself into a sitting up position, the praxian smiled lazily at the femme.

" Why hallooo luv." The t.i.c slurred, sounding like he had been hit really really hard in the helm. This caught the femme offguard, plastering a startled look on her face plate.

" e-excuse me?" She questioned, leaning away from her bond mate. Still shocked from his statement, the femme only watched as he shakily got to his peds, mumbling something about " I never should have worked with Tranchulus "

Standing up, Airstrike raised a optic ridge, confused to why Prowl was acting so out of character.

" Who's....Tranchulus?" The orange and white femme asked hesitantly, stepping back just in case

" He's a decepticon scientist I worked with, he's a very bad mech, but I can't tell yoooou, cause it'z classified." He answered lightly, stumbling just when he thought he had regained balance. Seeing him lose his peding, the femme tried to get out of the way, but unfortunately, as he stedied himself, he accidently nudge the femme just enough for her to lose her own balance, so like any gentlemech would do, he caught her, holding the autobot femme in a dip like position.

" Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look?" Prowl asked, giving her a full flitatious smile. Airstike immediately felt herself blush as his statement.

Why in primus was he acting this way?!

Something was off. This wasn't the Prowl she knew.

Unhelpful to her current situation, the battle strategist started to lean closer to her, and that's when it hit her.

The smell.

The bitter smell of highgrade filled her olfactory sensors, causing her to gag.

" Prowl.... your drunk." She hissed, using her servo to push his face plate away. Her spark sank a little when he gave her a hurt expression, but she had more then once had to deal with a drunk soldier, some of her airel bots being the worst, next to wreckers. Frowning she freed herself from Prowl's not-so-tight grip and gave a long sigh.

" Where did you even get high-grade?" The femme asked, frustrated that Prowl would even consider a drink that strong.

" High-grade?" The cop asked, giving her a puzzled look. " Ah dun drink high grade." He replied.

" Obviously you did at some point today." Airstrike shot back, then gasped again, as he almost fell over.

" Ok! That's it, Back to your room sir." She ordered, gruffly wrapping an arm around his shoulder plates, helping keep his balance, while the two made their way down the hall, while Prowl slurred something about " Shouldn't have let Ironfist join the Wreckers" and others small things about missions, which she knew were more then likely classified. Shaking her helm, she aided him as they turned the corner that led to the stretch where their rooms were located. Prowl mumbled something again, but this time it really caught her attention.

" T-tha energon tasted weird...did yours taste weird?"

The flyer shook her helm, and on arriving to his room, opened the door, shoved him in and slid the door close, locking it as it shut.

" Uhhh I'm not tired." The mech stated from his side of th door, which muffled the sound to some degree.

" Your Drunk Prowl. You are NOT coming out until your sober."

" Wha? I'm Not Drink! I never Drunk!"

" Right....." Airstrike answered, walking off before she could hear anything else. As she walked back to the rec room, she failed to notice Steelclamp's smug look, and that was because her attention wad else where.

Laying near the counter on the floor was a data pad.

Did Prowl have one? She didn't recall him having one.

Slowly making her way. Once beside it, the femme bent and picked it up, and was surprised that it turned on.

First thing she knew this wasn't Prowl's, because obviously, Prowl wouldn't have a file on the main screen titled

" Prowl's assassination "