Okay, my most awkward fic to date, I think. Business as usual, no flames...uh...focus was supposed to be on Elita, but something went wrong. Some lovely censored interfacing...there might be another chapter if I get good reviews.

Onward to business, I don't own Transformers, but I can claim ownership of the mysterious femme. She's mine.

I was watching USA when a commercial for the "More than Just Partners" Law & Order: SVU marathon came on. Then, it hit me. Like a snowball.

Enjoy, R & R, and if you do review, no flames, please, don't hate on my fic.

There were certain memories that made Elita One wish she could go back in time and tell herself not to do whatever led to it. Memories that made her want to gouge out her own optics and disconnect her audios just from thinking of them.

The result of an ill-fated walk down the Intelligence/Tactics hallway was one such memory.

The commander's mate had been going to talk to Prowl to see if he had any idea what the odd readings from the monitors had meant when she heard high, unfamiliar giggling from behind his office door.

She pressed her audio to the metal and listened. Strange sounds were issuing from the other side. Elita keyed in the master code and poked her head in.

What she saw nearly made her yell out in surprise. The Second-In-Command was in his office all right, but he wasn't alone.

Beneath him, across his desk, the slight, dark form of the Head of Intelligence was wrapped around the black and white mech so tightly that Elita could barely tell whose servos were whose and who was touching who where.

She was able to see, however, that they were doing just a little bit more that making out, and she heard as much as well.

"Ooh, yes...ohhh..."

"You like that, huh?"

"AH! Oh, Prowl!"

The tactician growled, running his lip components up and down the length of the Head of Intelligence's throat, then along her shoulder before suckling hard on a seam where one of her spikes retracted, causing the female to buck her hips violently.

Since when are they a couple?! Elita panicked to herself.

The moaning continued as Elita backed out of the office and closed the door. She quietly moved down the hallway, breaking into a full-out sprint half way back to the main hallway.

*****

She darted into the Rec. Room and collapsed onto a couch, intakes cycling heavily. Optimus, Ratchet, Wheeljack, Chromia and Ironhide looked at her. "What happened to you?" the Weapons Specialist asked.

"The most awkward...thing ever...you won't believe what...I've...just seen."

"What?"

Elita blinked. "You...don't wanna know."

"I think we do," Optimus said.

"No. Trust me. No."

The mechs all exchanged a glance as Chromia went to go find out for herself.

"Chromia! I wouldn't!" Elita yelled.

It took six cycles before Chromia stumbled back into the room. "They saw me," she whispered to Elita.

"Who saw you?"

Before the blue femme could answer, the door opened and Prowl stood there, arms crossed, with the dark Head of Intelligence beside him, mimicking his pose.

"There's this new thing, Chromia. It's called 'knocking'. You should try it some time," the Second-In-Command said crossly.

The mechs all looked at each other. "What's going on here, Prowl?" Optimus asked.

"Nothing major, sir, I just don't appreciate evesdroppers."

"Nor I," the dark femme growled, narrowing her optics at Chromia.

"Well, I assure you, it was a complete accident and will never happen again."

"It had better not," Prowl snapped.

"I don't think Chromia should be apologizing here. You two were the ones severely shredding conduct regulations--" Elita started.

"With all due respect to you, Ma'am, I know regulations. I wrote half of them," the tactician interrupted.

"And I edited most of them," the Head of Intelligence added harshly.

"Forget it, this conversation is over. Now, if you will excuse us..." Prowl said as they left the room.

Optimus and the other mechs were confused. "Elita, mind telling us exactly what my officers were doing to 'shred conduct regulations'?"

The orange femme looked at her mate. "You have quite the little story amongst your ranks, dear. What scandal! The Second-In-Command, fragging the Head of Intelligence? Imagine what would happen if that got out!"