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Sunday





That morning, everyone in the Ark was pleasantly surprised to see Tracks finally coming out of his quarters. After all, vanity aside, Tracks was still a part of the team and he was missed. So they greeted the blue Corvette and smiled at him - even exchanged some small talk with him. Some of them even wanted to be sure that Tracks was really okay, considering what he'd been through because of a particular red Lamborghini.



But Tracks only smiled back and even shared a joke or two, reassuring the other Autobots that the previous week was just a thing of the past and he'd preferred it if it stayed that way. In fact, he said Sideswipe must have run out of ideas for pranks by now and thus that would be that.



To Sideswipe's audio receptors, that was a challenge. And he was more than willing to accept it.



He grinned at the prospect that this week would be just as fun.







Monday





Tracks walked in the common room to get his daily ration of energon. But, though he found himself a vial, he quickly discovered there weren't any small energon cubes around to place the revitalising liquid in.



"I suppose I'll have to go to my dorms and fetch my own," the Corvette said, sighing.



Luckily for him, Sideswipe happened to be close by. He handed Tracks a small cube with a smile and a kind: "Here, you can have mine."



The other Autobots present - which consisted of Ironhide, Ratchet and Huffer - watched the scene with an impending sense of doom. For all three were aware that, when Sideswipe was that/nice, there was a very /bad reason behind it.



"Tracks is going to get it, I just know it," Huffer said, mumbling under his breath.



Truly enough, the moment that Tracks filled the energon cube, the liquid started leaking from several small holes at the brim and staining his chassis.



"I knew it," Huffer said.



"Sideswipe!" Ratchet said, standing up at once.



But Sideswipe was a clever enough Autobot and he didn't stick around any longer. He rushed out of the room to escape Tracks' wrath.



"That darn kid!" Ironhide said with ashake of his head. He walked up to Tracks with a piece of cloth. "Here you go, Tracks. You probably wanna clean yourself first before running after 'im."



"Ah, thanks Ironhide."



It was then that Ironhide, Ratchet and Huffer froze, looking at the Corvette with optics wide open; because it was then that they noticed something shocking.



Tracks was smiling broadly. Not only that, he even started to hum a soft, cheerful tune as he wiped the energon off him.



"Erm... Tracks?"



"Yes, Ratchet?" Tracks asked, looking up at the medic.



"Are you feeling well?" The red and white mech placed a hand on the Corvette's helm to detect any unusual heat.



Tracks laughed and pried himself away from Ratchet's touch. "I'm feeling perfectly fine; thank you for your concern. But,"and at that he leaned toward the other three Autobots confidentially,"Sideswipe won't be by the end of the week."



"What do you mean?" Ironhide asked; but then realisation caught up with him. "You're planning on getting back on 'im!"



"Indeed," Tracks said. And with that, Tracks walked out of the door, looking very pleased with himself. All the other three Autobots could do was exchange a look amongst themselves and wonder what Tracks was up to.



----------------



Sideswipe was certainly surprised when Tracks didn't go after him, so he quickly retraced his steps to see what was wrong. Some part of him even hoped that the leaking energon hadn't done more damage to the Corvette than was intended. After all, no one was meant to be harmed by his pranks - just earn a few laughs and that was it.



But, when he reached around the corner and overheard the conversation between Tracks and the other Autobots, he grinned mischievously at the Corvette's naïve confidence.



Let the games begin then, Tracks. Ialready know who's going to win.







Tuesday





Tracks had been washing in the washrack with no care in the world, when he felt something strange crawling up his back. Not sure what it could be, he reached for it and caught it.



He never thought that that something would be big and wriggling and ugly.



---------------



Sideswipe stood by the entrance of the washracks, his grin only broadening as he thought of Tracks' reaction upon finding his fake mecha-spider. The mental image Sideswipe had created of Tracks bursting out of the door, jumping and spinning in an attempt to rid the fearsome monster that dared walk all over his precious chassis, was quite amusing for sure.



He certainly didn't expect the door to open quite slowly and Tracks to come out with a smile of his own. And when he caught sight of Sideswipe, he just walked calmly toward him, water still dripping from his crevices and furrows, and held up the mecha-spider.



"I believe this is yours," he said sweetly, and he handed the toy back to Sideswipe. "Be careful where you leave it next time."



And then Tracks retreated back to the washracks to continue with his wash, chuckling as he did so.



Sideswipe didn't know what to make of that, truth be told. If he didn't know any better, he would say that Tracks was/expecting/ that.



Unless...



Unless Tracks was chuckling because he had probably planned something worse for Sideswipe.



Well. They'd see about that.







Wednesday





Tracks opened his cupboard to take out his bottle of wax and start shining himself. The moment he removed the bottle, however, he also revealed the cut off head of a quite deceased mech.



Tracks just picked it up, put a sticky note on its forehead, and then placed it back in the cupboard.



When Sideswipe went to see why Tracks wasn't screaming bloody murder by now, he opened the cupboard and read the note that was still stuck on the fake helm.



Nice try.



Sideswipe didn't know what to make of that. However, one thing was sure.



Tracks had definitely planned something/worse./







Thursday





By now, every Autobot in the Ark had found out about Tracks' plan of pulling the ultimate prank that would finally put Sideswipe in place, as well as Sideswipe's attempts to outsmart the Corvette. In fact, they had become so intrigued that they were all placing bets as to what kind of prank it would be and when would Tracks go for it. The only ones who didn't participate in that little activity were Optimus Prime, since he had to keep the image of an Autobot leader intact; Prowl, who had never liked this sort of games; Bluestreak, because Prowl didn't participate; Jazz; and, surprisingly enough, Smokescreen.



Then again, someone had to be bookie.



As for Sideswipe, he tried every prank in the book. From giving Tracks a jar of energon goodies - and a finger-trap among them - to using a life-like carton image of Spike and showing it to Tracks, claiming that the Corvette had stepped on the human. And when that didn't faze Tracks, he even tried little exploding boxes that resembled presents, just like he had seen in a cartoon show.



In spite of all that, Tracks always grinned knowingly and looked at him with an expression that said: "Enjoy your prankster days while they last."



And what was worse for Sideswipe was that the end of the week was fast approaching.



It was time to bring out the big guns -sort of speak.







Friday





Sunstreaker was at his desk and idly sketching something on a piece of paper, when Sideswipe walked up to him.



"Can I use your carving knife for awhile?"



Sunstreaker was certainly surprised at that question. "I suppose... Why do you want it?"



"Um... To carve?" Sideswipe said, stating the obvious.



Sunstreaker huffed. "Yes, but what?"



"This." And with that, he held up alarge metallic round object that resembled a crude version of a pumpkin.



Sunstreaker locked his gaze on the metal... creation, and then on Sideswipe.



"Let me guess. It's for Tracks?"



"Yes."



"Fine," the yellow Lamborghini said with a shake of his head. "The carving knife is on the second drawer by my berth."



Sideswipe grinned. "Thanks, Bro."



"Yeah, sure," Sunstreaker said, resuming with his sketching. He didn't bother watching his brother go. In fact, he had become so engrossed in his drawing that he never realised the time passing by but only when he heard the chime of the call button.



Sunstreaker winced. If Sideswipe's plan had worked, it meant that that was Tracks, demanding his brother's head in asilver platter.



Well/, the yellow Lamborghini thought, /he won't get it without a fight. He stood up tensely and, after preparing himself for quite the physical confrontation, he opened the door.



He froze when he saw who it /really/was.



"Bro?"



But Sideswipe was keeping his head bowed and his shoulders slumped forward in utter defeat.



"Don't ask."



"That bad?" Sunstreaker asked.



"Damn it, Bro! What did I just say?!" Sideswipe exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. He stomped by his twin and lay down on his berth to sulk.



Yes, that was enough answer to Sunstreaker.







Saturday





Tracks walked up to Sideswipe full of determination and said only two words close to the Lamborghini's audio receptors.



"My turn."



Sideswipe ran.







Sunday





Tracks was reclining on his berth, completely focused on his datapad which contained Stephen King's /Christine/, when he heard a chime. However, he didn't feel like getting up from his comfortable spot just yet. Not to mention that he was getting to a really good part in the book and he wanted to keep reading if he could help it.



"Enter, it's unlocked!" he said.



The door hissed open, so Tracks turned around to see who it was. He smirked to see the yellow Lamborghini standing by the threshold, both arms on his hips in a dismayed manner.



"I was expecting your brother," Tracks commented, then turned his gaze back to the datapad.



"That would be a bit difficult, considering Sideswipe refuses to come out of our dorms."



"Pity." Yet Tracks wasn't sorry in the least.



"In fact," Sunstreaker continued, "He keeps looking at the berth, in case you have hidden a time-bomb there. And after he makes sure there's nothing there, he stares at the ventilation system. He never sits down unless he makes absolutely sure the chair's not booby-trapped. And he always asks whoever presses the call button if they're alone."



"I was hoping he might," Tracks said, still reading. He grinned broadly in such a maniacal way that would have unnerved Megatron himself. "I guess it worked. Thank you for telling me, Sunstreaker."



Sunstreaker stared at the Corvette incredulously. "Worked? But... you didn't do anything!"



"Precisely." And with that, Tracks resumed with his reading, feeling relaxed and making a mental note to thank Jazz later for his excellent advice.



The End