Pretty Pretty Prowl

Author's Notes: This story was written for one specific reason: I unapologetically love alliterations. And thanks to Jazz, it also allowed me to finally use the prompt 'Assets.' Anyway, this story is crack. On that note, I know that it's a bit of a stretch, but I have no problems believing that some little kids would believe a certain unusual fact about Prowl.

Happy Halloween!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.

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Prowl simply stared at the tableau in front of him. He could flawlessly recall every micro-second of the events which caused him to sit here, and yet, the memories still did not make one bit of sense.

"It's your turn, Ms. Prowl!"

Fortunately for the tactician, he had long ago realized that younglings of any species operated outside of conventional logic. Reaching down, he carefully spun the spinner.

A child with bright blonde hair in a braid peered carefully. "Okay, so she got a necklace." Staring up at the Autobot's neck, she continued, "And it won't fit on her neck. So where are we gonna put it?"

"Her fingers are big enough that the necklace can be a ring," a brown-haired imp suggested. "But I dunno what we'll do about her actual ring. Or the earrings. Or the bracelets even!"

"'Sokay," the final girl broke in matter-of-factly from her vantage point on Prowl's knee. "We already knew she'd be too big for most of the jewelry; she can just hold it."

"Oh." The second child blinked. "Okay." Turning to Prowl, she held up the necklace. "Hey, Ms. Prowl, can you please give me your hand? I need to put this on your finger."

Obligingly, Prowl angled his left servo for the youngling to painstakingly tug the aforementioned loop around his second-furthest digit. Examining the cheap plastic curiously, he tentatively attempted to understand the odd circumstances that he found himself enveloped in. "Why did you ask me to play this game with you?" he asked the girl stationed in his lap. Well, 'ask' might be too mild a term; 'dragged over with no alternative' would probably be more accurate, but he doubted that the children would appreciate the latter phrase.

"That's easy! We wanted to play Pretty Pretty Princess, but we wanted to play with the Autobots too. You're the only girl Autobot here, so when the teacher said we could, we came over and asked you."

Prowl stared at the dark-blonde child in surprise. "I see. If I may ask, what made you think that I am a girl?"

Instantly, the first blonde chimed, "Because you look like a robot fairy princess."

As Prowl tried (and failed) to respond to that, the brunette agreed. "Yeah! You've got that cool red crown, and fairy wings, and your top sticks out. Only ladies' tops stick out."

The crown and wings obviously referred to his chevron and doorwings, but… "…My top?" Prowl managed, desperately fielding off a crash.

She nodded seriously and shaped her hands over her upper torso in an exaggerated manner. "Yeah, your top." Pointing at Hot Spot, First Aid, and Bumper, the other Autobots in attendance, she continued, "They're all boys."

"Yup!" the girl in Prowl's lap chirped happily. "Boys never have chests like yours and Momma's. Except when they're dressing up, like Bugs Bunny and Little John."

Abruptly, the facts snapped into place. Chuckling softly, Prowl relaxed as his logic center quieted. The only odd thing was that a group of children, kindergarteners to be precise, saw certain facts and interpreted them in an unusual fashion. Quite frankly, he did not mind being assumed as one gender or the other, and the younglings' earnestness amused him

"I look like a fairy princess?" he questioned once more, needing the verification.

"Definitely," all three assured him.

"So I see."

With the mystery solved, Prowl simply enjoyed being in the presence of so many innocents. Carefully, he prevented himself from winning too many games and allowed the first three girls and their classmates to climb all over his lower body. To his surprise, most, though not all, of the other children believed him to be female as well. (Admittedly, he was uncertain whether or not they truly believed him to be female, or they merely accepted it as a fact because everyone else did, but the results were the same.)

By the end of class, Prowl wore a small, rarely-seen smile across his face. Apparently, his fellow Autobots were under the impression that the children were simply misspeaking as younglings were wont to do, and the mechs had utterly missed the assumption regarding their commanding officer. Their sheer obtuseness to the accepted fact caused many giggles to reverberate through the room, and Prowl quietly coaxed the children into not explaining the error to his companions.

Outwardly, that smile was the only sign that somewhere, hidden deep, deep within Prowl's rigidly structured thought processes, a mighty surge of mischief happily spun, whirled, and cackled within his mind.

A plan was hatched.

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Annual Autobot Halloween Party on the Ark…

Helms spun towards the entrance. Jaws dropped to the floor. Optics widened, music went unheard, and energon sloshed unheeded to the floor. Every mech in the room swiveled to face the entering pair and regard them with sheer disbelief.

They could expect lunacy from Jazz, but since when did Prowl ignore his dignity like this?!

Strolling casually through the doorway, the bonded pair appeared to be dressed entirely in cloth dresses of wildly different styles. Jazz's outfit was unusual enough; it was primarily various shades of brown and white, and the soft brown skirt swept the floor. Ruffles bordered the incredibly low neckline while his bare shoulders gave way to billowy, creamy sleeves. That material also covered his ample chest, and crisscrossed laces secured a bodice around his waist.

However, Prowl took the oil cake.

The ever cool, logical, and serious mech was dressed in an outfit that would put Marie Antoinette to shame. Shimmery blue fabric poured over his frame in a simple elegance, completely covering his pedes and rippling down his arms. Peeking out wherever the blue ended, white material added volume to the skirt and fluttered about his digits, apparently trying to hide them from view. Atop his head, a delicate crown attached to his chevron, giving the appearance of a jeweled tiara. Finally, his doorwings probably drew the most disbelieving looks; stylized butterfly wings were attached to Prowl's hinges. Tinted the same blue of his dress, most of the colours of the rainbow sparkled along the wings, somehow blending and grabbing attention at the same time. The exotic monstrosities rose half-a-helm over the tactician, and as they spread out behind him, they probably used as much airspace as most mechs.

All in all, Jazz and Prowl looked absolutely amazing, and with any luck, Ratchet would not have to try and wriggle them out of the costumes for a mental examination.

"What are you two wearing?" Sideswipe finally managed, breaking the sudden silence.

Prowl glanced at him calmly from while Jazz went to snag some energon. "We are celebrating Halloween, Sideswipe. I believe that is what this entire gathering is for?"

"Well, yes," the frontliner floundered. "But…" He blinked, shrugged, and then melodramatically wailed, "Why in the name of Primus are both of you wearing dresses?! Especially you!"

Smiling benignly, Prowl accepted his cube. "Because it is polite to follow other society's customs, and several months ago, I was informed that I was a fairy princess. This seemed like a perfect time to dress the part."

Snickering, Jazz looped his arm through his bonded's. "Yeh might not believe, folks, but this is all on Prowler. It was his idea to get these fine outfits, an' he was the one who arranged to have them designed an' made. Though he did need some help findin' one fo' meh; we finally decided on a Tavern Wench because Ah had the right 'assets' fo' the dress." He wordlessly indicated those assets by swinging his shoulders in a move that drew every optic.

"Well, I congratulate your outfits and your taste," Carly called out from a nearby table. "You both look stunning." Gesturing to her camera, she hopefully inquired, "Mind if I take a shot or three?"

"Sure!" Jazz agreed happily. Prowl nodded his agreement, and the pair posed together for the picture, making sure to include Prowl's wings.

Holding the camera in front of her, Carly laughingly ordered, "Instead of 'cheese,' I need you to say 'Happy Halloween!'"

"Happy Halloween!"

Click. Flash!

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Three weeks later, every one of those students that had met Prowl received an envelope containing the picture that Carly took. And most of those students, especially three certain females, insisted on calling the Autobot Second in Command 'Princess Prowl' for the rest of their lives.

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Second Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Pretty Princess.

Author's Notes 2: One of my favorite games when I was little was Pretty Pretty Princess. It's a cute game, and younger kids are able to play it by themselves with no supervision. It was first made in 1990, but I'm ignoring that for the sake of the story. I have no idea how Prowl would be able to spin the dial (other than very, very carefully), but I'll bet the kids had a blast no matter what.

According to TFWikia, Bumper is an Autobot minibot; I have no idea as to his personality.

Little John is a character from Disney's "Robin Hood" who dresses as a very busty woman near the beginning of the picture.

Originally, I didn't base the costumes off of anything, but then I figured that some people might appreciate a picture. So I went Google diving for outfits similar, though not identical, to my imagination. The links are on my Ao3 and LiveJournal posts.