Author: Hahaha...yeah. Back again. This fic is taking up the majority of my attention, going "post me! post me! and when you're done that write me, damnit!" Which leaves me going D: "but the GRE..." Anyway. Will someone PLEASE tell me why everyone likes this story?! I swear, the amount of reviews and favorites and alerts are ASTOUNDING to someone who's used to having posted fanfics overlooked. Not that I'm complaining. no, not at all...I love reviews. And anyone who has read this. A ton. You guys are of the awesome. Right. I'll shut up now...

Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas.

---

Sam knew it was a bad idea, but they had been so damn tired. It is impossible to run forever; eventually, you need rest.

That and Megatron was starting to reek.

The two of them had hit the next big city, Sam morphing into a local taxi cab so that his occasionally reckless driving would be excused.

"So, what exactly are you planning on doing?" Megatron drawled, leaning against the window listlessly, watching the scenery pass by, obviously exhausted.

"Get us money from an ATM, then find a place where we can crash. You need a shower and food and sleep. I need rest. It's tiring switching from alt form to alt form."

It was true. Sam had gone through at least a dozen different forms, all meant to throw the Autobots off his trail—especially since they had figured out that his passenger was none other than Sam Witwicky (which was actually kinda funny, considering the truth of the situation). He had gone through farm vehicles, minivans, semis, a school bus, a Greyhound bus, and numerous cars, from brand-new to far-too-old-to-still-be-running. The constant mass and energy shift was exhausting, and he was running on empty—figuratively and literally.

They turned a corner into a more secluded space and he shifted into a bland, everyday car, his holoform stepping out. He was about to say something when he saw that Megatron was passed out in the front seat, making him inexplicably smile. His holoform—now an almost perfect copy of Trent—walked up to a nearby ATM and examined it. He took out a fake card, inserted it, and proceeded to bypass the system in order to withdraw a sufficient amount for Megatron to survive on before he took his card back, putting it safely away, cash in his other hand.

He turned away, walked back to the car, and settled in again. He turned on and eased out, sticking the money in the overhead visor. Sam melted flawlessly into traffic, on the lookout for a cheap hotel or hostel or something. He eventually found one to his liking and elbowed Megatron, causing the former Decepticon to grunt and groggily glare at Sam.

"What?" he asked, voice slurred with sleep.

"I found a place where you can stay. Get some real rest. Take a shower. Once you're rested we'll get food."

"Y'sure no-one'll recognize me?"

"There's...always a chance. But you're no good to me if you're out of it."

Megatron snorted. "Same back to you. You're farin' no better then me."

Sam grimaced. "Yeah, well..."

"Good thin' izzat when you're rechargin' no-one'll be able to track you," Megatron murmured as Sam pulled into a parking space.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Sam took down the money and handed it to Megatron. "Get yourself a bed. You might necessarily be sharing a room. Try not to be too much of a jerk."

Megatron had sneered and taken the money, leaving the car with muttered insults, which—inexplicably—made Sam smirk.

Sam had remained alert until he got a text from Megatron saying : "Got a room. Go 2 sleep, bitch."

He snickered, replied with a "Fuck you, dipshit," and found a place he wouldn't be towed, settling down for some much-needed rest.

The next time he saw Megatron was on a news broadcast.

Apparently, someone had recognized Megs, even in the out-of-the-way place Sam had chosen. They had, thankfully, been unable to find Sam, since he had shut down all systems, which doused his Spark-signature as a Decepticon, and as he had changed his alt form yet again...

Perhaps Megs was right about me needing to become a light sleeper, Sam thought wearily as he watched the news clip, Megatron obviously sulking—well, obviously to Sam at least. The 'con was a remarkable actor.

Well, can't have him stay with the 'bots, now can I? He thought sleepily, detached from reality. Guess'll have to go and get him. Can't go in guns blazin', though, 'cause I'd get wasted so fast...so, what do I do?

Sam sat in his parking spot for a while, mulling over his options.

He could just leave Megatron where he was and go to Philly on his own, and get the information he needed. But, somehow...that felt wrong. What if the person was inaccessible by him? What if he had to get somewhere only a human could go, not a holoform image. He needed to maintain at least quasi line-of-sight to be able to use the projection. So, really, going it alone wasn't an option. He needed to have Megatron around to accomplish his goal.

That meant that he, indeed, had to rescue the bastard.

But, I'm a 'con. They won't willingly talk to me, especially when I'm asking for their supposed savior. I need to have something to trade, something that they'd want as badly as I need Megs...

It took Sam a while longer, but he eventually formed a plan that would require him to actually tap into the deception that was an integral part of his allegiance's name.

The Decepticon Shiftswitch sighed and pulled away from his parking spot, heading towards his former home.

–

Shiftswitch was parked a few blocks down from a familiar apartment, holoform's arms crossed, a pensive frown on his face.

Exactly how would he go about doing this? He knew Mikaela was with the 'bots right now, and that the most important person in her life—aside from Sam and her boss (see: Ratchet)—was her father. Could he just use Mikaela as a way to get him out of his home? And how would he keep him hidden long enough to retrieve the Witwickys?

Then there was the problem of getting Annabelle. He knew that she was attending a military-run daycare while her mother took up her duties again. Getting past all that security would be a pain and a half, and he would really have to get creative.

Shiftswitch, with his advanced sensors, saw Mikaela's father exit the apartment. The Decepticon decided to wing it and drove quickly up to him, stopping in front of the older man, his holoform exiting his alt form, the very picture of a government agent.

"Mr. Banes?" he asked, his voice deep, cultured and authoritative.

"Yeah?" the man asked, looking at Shiftswitch suspiciously.

Sam flashed a FBI badge and briskly replied, "Something has happened to your daughter, and we fear that you may be the next target."

"Somethin' happened to 'kaela?" he parroted, horrified.

"Please, get in the van," he said, gesturing the the black, heavily-tinted vehicle. "We need to assure your safety."

"How can I trust the govn'ment?" the man asked warily—which was justified, considering he'd be on the wrong side of the law a number of times.

"Please," Switch pleaded. "We are doing this for your safety. There may be an attack at any time and we don't want..."

It took a few more minutes and a number of lies, but Shiftswitch apparently sounded earnest and honest enough that the man complied. The minute the door shut, the older man hit the seat with a thud, out like a light due to the potent sleeping agent Switch had circulating through his interior. The Decepticon sighed and stepped into the driver's seat, pulling away from the apartment.

The 'con ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

How to approach the Witwickys...?

An idea hit him that made him smile wryly.

Of course. They'll be ecstatic.

Switch paused long enough to hide and change into a familiar form and face, placing Mikaela's father in the trunk space, feeling only a little bad. It was necessary for his plan to succeed, and it wasn't as if he was actually hurting the man...he wasn't tied up or anything, and the sleeping agent wouldn't cause any psychological or physical harm. The man would also be moved to a more comfortable location once Switch had picked up the Witwickys.

Switch drove up to his former home in a perfect replica of Bumblebee, every detail of his alt form—and his own—appearance flawless. He stepped out of the faux-Camaro, walked up to his home, and rang the doorbell.

The door opened quickly, his mother standing there with bat raised.

Switch put his hands up in surrender, eyes widening. "Um, hi, mom," he said in his human voice.

His mother's eyes widened and her grip fell slack, the bat falling forgotten out of her hand before dragging Sam into a bear-hug, crying and rambling incoherently. Switch eventually got her to loosen her hold, and he gave her an unsure smile.

"We...we thought..." she hiccuped, and Switch saw his father coming down the stairs. Switch gave an uncertain wave and Ron came racing down the remaining stairs.

"They said you wouldn't be back for a while," his father said, hands on his wife's shoulders.

Switch smiled sheepishly. "I kinda convinced Bee to help me escape." He shifted on his feet, and looked at his parents with a relieved smile.

"Come in, come in," his father said and Switch allowed himself to be pulled into the living room. Thankfully, it was just within his range to project a corporeal holoform, and he sat down on the couch, his mother attaching herself to his side again, her hands exploring him just to make sure he was real and okay.

Which was funny, considering neither was the case, but, hey, he wasn't a Decepticon for nothing.

"I'm fine, mom, seriously," Switch said, batting her hands away.

This, surprisingly, made her give him a watery smile, his father pressing a glass of some alcoholic beverage or another into her hand, which she downed in one gulp.

"What happened, son?" Ron Witwicky asked, pulling Switch's attention to him.

Switch shifted in his seat and sighed. "I was stupid, ok? I got separated from Bee while coming home and went exploring in the place where we were gonna meet everyone. I ran into a 'con, and, well...I only recently managed to escape."

"We were so worried about you!" his mother cried, throwing her arms around him again. Switch gave his father an awkward, worried look that made him smile and rub his eyes—he totally hadn't been about to cry.

Switch felt a tinge of guilt, but quickly shoved it to the side. Now was not the time to be feeling guilty—that would only get in the way of what he was trying to do.

Switch lied through his teeth when he answered all of their questions, although kept an element of truth in all of them so that if he needed to backpedal he at least had someplace to start. It took him an hour and a half, but he eventually assuaged all their fears. By that time, it was late, and Switch looked between the clock and his parents, making his 'stomach' growl.

"Do you...do you wanna go get dinner somewhere? I'm starving and wanna celebrate bein' back..."

There was the briefest of hesitations before his parents nodded. "Sure," his mother replied, voice slightly slurred from all the alcohol she had consumed.

Switch smiled faintly and helped his mother up, leading her to the door, taking them to his alt form. Both adults climbed in and settled in the front and back seats; they, too were out like lights almost the moment after they had sat down.

Switch sighed and pulled away, changing to an RV camper once he had space and was hidden enough to do so. His holoform put the three humans in places where they would be comfortable before returning to the driver's seat.

Now was the hard one.

Switch pulled out onto the highway and began the trip to the place where the Lennox's daughter was cared for during the time when her parents were busy.

–

Shiftswitch closed the cell phone with a quiet snap, a satisfied smirk on his face. He had made sure that the Witwickys and Mr. Banes' absences were accounted for so that no suspicion would be unduly raised by their being out of contact. Now was the hard part.

His entire plan hinged on having all his hostages, not just most of them, and his last—and, perhaps, most crucial—was Annabelle. The problem was her being on a military complex. They were very careful about who came and went, and were especially careful about the children. It would take a good deal of luck and equally large amount of skill to pull this particular stunt off.

Switch had been watching the base carefully, and was pleased to discover that Annabelle was departing in the company of someone other than her mother—apparently the woman was to be busy late into the evening and the daycare center had closed. It appeared as if luck was on his side.

Switch carefully shadowed the vehicle Annabelle was in, doing his damndest not to seem stalker-ish, pulling off and stopping at a different spot a few blocks away. He waited patiently until the caretaker and young girl had settled in before switching his disguise and pulling up beside the parked car, lights off and motor silent before turning off the engine and waiting. He watched closely with his sensors until the caretaker fell asleep watching TV (although there was a gun in easy reach—hey, when your father and mother are both accomplished military officers, paranoia tends to pay off).

Switch sighed and his image-only holoform slipped out of the door, allowing him to slide easily through locks and doors until he had come to Mrs. Lennox's apartment. He slipped in with equal stealth, walking over to the caretaker. He allowed his holoform to become corporeal and he gently reached out and pressed a few pressure points that would keep the woman out cold and insensate to the world. His holoform went image-only again as he entered Annabelle's room. He briefly hesitated, not wanting to wake the young girl, since she would probably scare at an unfamiliar face. Still...

His form went corporeal again and he picked her up oh-so-gently, keeping her wrapped in her blankets. He looked around the room before choosing a few obviously well-loved toys, balancing them precariously against him. He tiptoed out of the building, locking everything behind him as he went, before slipping back into his alt form.

He didn't allow himself to relax until they were on the highway. It was then that he let his shoulders drop, placing the toys on the passenger seat, holding the young girl on his lap, his arms caging her in.

How to explain myself to her...? he wondered idly.

He had administered an injected sedative since deciding he would take the little girl, as he was pretty sure that the dosage needed to knock out the girl would be much less than it took for the adults, and didn't want to risk harming Annabelle.

He settled in for a long, leisurely drive, wanting to let panic set in before he revealed himself.

--

Switch and Annabelle were in the midst of a rather heated game of "I Spy" when Mr. Banes' cell phone went off. Usually, Switch let it ring until it went to voice mail (unless it was the man's probation officer, to whom Switch dutifully reported to daily), but since it had been ringing incessantly—and the call was always from the same person—he decided that they had finally figured out that something had happened to the elder Banes and Witwickys. He was also almost entirely sure that people were now looking frantically for Annabelle. Therefore, now was the perfect time to answer the phone. He had (almost) all the cards in his hands.

He smiled at Annabelle and said, in a rather apologetic tone, "I'm sorry, there's someone important on the phone."

Annabelle pouted, but when Switch gave her a coloring book with sparkly crayons to color with on the head of his steering wheel, the girl was sufficiently distracted.

Oh, this is gonna be good.

"Hello, Mikaela," he purred into the phone after flipping it open, his voice unaltered from its default frequencies (he had figured out how to mimic other people's vocalizations—afterall, it was just a mess of frequencies, and such could be duplicated)—which meant he sounded like Megatron.

There was shocked, dead silence on the other end before Mikaela demanded angrily: "Who is this?"

"Your friendly neighborhood 'con," Switch said cheerfully.

"What the fuck have you done with my dad?" she yelled at him.

"Tsk, tsk, such language from a young lady!" he chided teasingly. "If you must know, I've done nothing to him. Well, except abduct him, but he's unharmed," Switch amended. "I've even been nice enough to feed and clean up after him." Which was true. He didn't want anyone dying on him, so that meant cleaning up after their excretions and feeding them those breakfast drinks so that they stayed hydrated and nourished. That he had also chosen a modified tour bus as his latest alt form spoke to him wanting them to be as comfortable as possible for hostages.

"What do you want from me?" the young woman demanded.

"From you? Nothing. From the 'bots...well, that's a different story. You can tell the lovelies that not only have I acquired your dear father, but also have have the Witwickys in my possession..." Switch looked down as Annabelle reached impatiently for the cell phone, making Switch grin. "Ah, someone would like to speak with you," he murmured, placing the cell phone gently against Annabelle's ear.

"Hewwo," the toddler said happily.

He took the real cell away and handed her an older one that was deactivated, she playing with the buttons, fascinated by the numbers that appeared on the screen and the tones, the coloring book and crayons falling away, forgotten. "That," he said to the horrified silence, "was Annabelle Lennox."

"You monster," Mikaela snarled.

Switch laughed. "Oh, come, come. Did she sound hurt to you? I've kept her quite safe, thank you. I know that hurting any one of the humans in my care would only earn me an even faster death sentence from the 'bots."

There was a shift and a strange tone before a familiar voice answered the phone: "Megatron," Optimus stated flatly.

"Not quite," Switch replied lightly. "Although I understand the confusion—I have been told that we sound remarkably alike."

"Then who are you?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it? I'm a Decepticon, and therefore your enemy."

"Why have you captured those people?"

"Because if I didn't you wouldn't take me seriously," Switch answered, becoming serious himself. "You have something I want. I have something you want. Perhaps...we can arrange an exchange."

"What do we have that you want?" Optimus asked.

"Sam Witwicky," Switch replied. "I want the boy."

"Why? To extract your revenge?"

Switch laughed. "You get me all wrong! He has something I need—why would I hurt someone who is useful to me?"

"That hasn't stopped you before."

"Again, I am not Megatron," Switch said, annoyed. "Now, what say you? Four people for just one...surely that is a bargain...?"

"You're lying."

Switch rolled his eyes. "Am not. Cross my spark and hope to die," he drawled, shifting his grip on Annabelle so she could put her small hands on the steering wheel of his alt form.

"How do we know?"

Switch sighed. "Jesus Christ, you guys are fucking paranoid."

With a little effort, he used Mrs. Witwicky's phone to take pictures of all his hostages and sent them to Mikaela's phone. "You should've gotten something on the girl's phone. Proof that I'm not bluffing."

There was a brief silence before Optimus sighed in a defeated manner. "Where?"

"I'll let you all choose," Switch said sweetly. "Just so you don't feel threatened by little old me."

There was a squawk of indignation from the background somewhere, followed by a command of some sort (probably to shut up).

Mrs. Witwicky's phone vibrated and Switch saw a set of co-ordinates not too far from where he was displayed on the screen. "Ah. Gotcha. See you there," Switch said cheerfully before hanging up.

Annabelle was looking at him curiously as he tossed the two cell phones into the seat beside him. "What do you want to play?" he asked, and the girl's eyes lit up.

The rest of the ride was spent playing "Count-the-cars," which was entertaining considering the child's miniscule attention span.

Switch eventually pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned factory and sat back in his seat with a sigh, Annabelle asleep on his lap, she breathing slowly and gently against him. The Decepticon gently stroked the girl's hair and smiled softly. She was fun. She drove him nuts sometimes, but she was charmingly, innocently sweet.

Switch felt the Autobots arrive before he actually saw them, and transformed himself so as to not be caught off-guard, the humans stored safely away in a clear chest compartment, Annabelle still held securely in his holoform's arms.

Optimus, Ironhide, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and the new 'bot that Switch hadn't recognized all transformed once Ironhide had let out a very angry-looking Will and Bee had released Sam—who was Megatron in actuality.

"Where are they?" Optimus demanded softly.

Switch raised a hand to his chest and opened the compartment, his holoform gently nudging his captives onto his palm before stepping there himself, holding Annabelle gently but firmly in his embrace. Switch knelt and put the sleeping humans on the ground as gently as he could before his holoform jumped off his palm with Annabelle clinging sleepily to his shirt. His holoform took a few steps forward so that Annabelle was clearly visible—as was his lack of weaponry.

"As promised. Now, if you would..."

There was a brief hesitation before Megatron walked forward and stretched out his hands, obviously asking for Annabelle. Sam handed her over, his shoulders slumping slightly as he pulled out of his Decepticon persona. Behind him, his form shifted to that of a private jet, leaving space between him and the resting humans.

"Well, c'mon," he said impatiently once Megatron had handed the sleeping child over to Lennox (who was frantically examining her to make sure Sam hadn't done anything). "We have somewhere to be."

Megatron snorted and strolled over to where Sam was waiting near the stairs leading up to the jet. "What the hell took you so long, worm?" the former Decepticon leader drawled quietly.

"I didn't want to be slagged, that's what, fucktard," Sam replied dryly, just above a whisper. He followed Megatron up the stairs when a few objects caught his eye, making him slap his forehead. "Jesus, can't believe I nearly forgot," he muttered to himself before collecting Annabelle's toys. He set them all down next to his mom's head, doing it slowly and deliberately to show that what he was doing wasn't threatening. Once he had cleared out the objects he had used to keep the toddler occupied, he returned to the jet and took off at once, his corporeal holoform fading into image-only.

Once they were in the air, Megatron sighed heavily. "You have no fucking clue how hard it is to be you."

Sam snickered, but the sound was tight. "Yeah, I guess."

Megatron blinked and looked hard at Sam. "You gave in, didn't you?" he asked slowly, a wicked smirk spreading across his face. "You became a Decepticon, at least for a little bit."

Sam's image-only holoform winced. "I had to. Sam couldn't've done what I did."

"And what exactly did you do?" Megatron asked, curious. "You weren't entirely a 'con or else you wouldn't've returned them unharmed, if at all."

Sam winced. "I just...deceived them. Got Mr. Banes to come with me by pretending something had happened to Mikaela. Tricked my parents into believe that I was who I used to be. Got Annabelle out from under their noses by being really, really careful and incredibly lucky. I kept everyone under by sedating them with drugs I stole from a hospital. I didn't do anything to Annabelle though...just kept her occupied by playing with her. I still feel bad about it. How will my parents ever trust me again?" he groaned, head going into his hands.

"Trust is never an option when you're a 'con," Megatron said with a shrug and sat down in one of the chairs with a sigh. A wistful smile formed on Megatron's face.

"What's up?" Sam asked, curious.

Megatron quickly wiped the expression away with a scowl. "None of your business."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You liked being with the 'bots, didn't you?"
"Of course not. The clash of our ideals is too much to be overcome," he replied primly.

"Not when you're playing at being Sam Witwicky," Sam said with a grin. "Didja get cozy with 'Kaela?"

Megatron looked horrified, but the blush that tinged his cheeks told otherwise.

"I see," Sam half-sneered before he caught himself, his shoulders falling. "I see. You were human...just as I was a Decepticon."

There was an agonized pause before Sam sighed and shrugged. "Whatever. We'll find a way to reverse this."

"Before I get too used to being one of your primitive organics."

"And I lose all my morals and ethics."

Sam's attempted to turn his attention to flying, but his mind was racing too much for him to do so.

We have to figure out how to reverse this, and soon. If we don't...I'll become a 'con, I just know it. Being...being Shiftswitch was easy. It was fun. It felt...natural.

Sam's spark ached. But, how will I ever—ever—get back my humanity? Even when I'm in my body again...

Sam sighed softly, and shoved the problem to the back of his mind, promising to deal with it when the time came.

–

"So, where exactly does this guy live?"

"Apparently, he's a professor at...damn, what was that college's name? It was weird."

"Weird how?

"Definitely wasn't English."

"Okay, that doesn't really narrow things down. Do you at least remember the guy's name?"

Megatron paused and thought for a moment before providing it. Sam quickly ran a search and his holoform's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, that is a weird name. Hey, it's a woman's college."

"Great, an entire campus of lesbians."

"It's not nice to stereotype."

"You were thinking it, too."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Dude, seriously? Can we focus a little bit? What do you know about this guy?"

"Only that's he more than he seems. It's like he gave up a life of crime to become straight-laced or somethin'. He was all involved in illicit research and experiments and stuff but is now contentedly working as a teacher and lab coordinator."

"Huh. Guess people change, right?" Sam said and smiled wryly at Megatron, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure. How long will it take us to get there?"

"Not too long if I break a few laws."

"That's the spirit," Megatron said with a toothy grin.

Sam shook his head and chuckled. "So, tell me—what did you learn at the Autobot base?"

"You think I did some intel?"

"Megs, how could you not? You're the fucking Decepticon leader!"

Megatron laughed coldly. "Point well made." There was a brief pause before Megatron began: "They were all flustered that I was gone, and baffled by your absence."

"Wait, who's I and who's you?"

Megatron blinked and frowned. "I..." he hesitated, looking terrified and nervous, two expressions Sam would have never associated with the Decepticon leader. "I don't know," he finished in a whisper.

Sam shifted nervously in the seat of his newest alt form (a rather elegant sedan that he had passed on the highway). "This is bad. This is very bad."

"I am Megatron," Megatron asserted to himself, but there was worry in his voice.

Sam nodded, but his spark was still troubled. It was getting too easy to think of himself as a Cybertronian, to distance himself from the humans around him. He couldn't...he just couldn't.

He turned off at the appropriate exit, Megatron slouched in his seat.

"This is ridiculous," the Decepticon murmured.

"You're telling me," Sam sighed. "Well, you could said that this whole experience has broadened our horizons."

"Unnecessarily so," Megatron growled.

Sam snorted and nodded in agreement. "I've been keeping track of your underlings' activity," he said, changing the topic.

"Oh?"

"They're a rather disorganized bunch, aren't they?"

"Without a strong leader, any group is lost," Megatron drawled. "Afterall, when Optimus died, they turned to you—of all creatures!—for leadership."

Sam sighed. "I'm glad Optimus is back. That was hard."

"You're not meant to lead," Megatron said. "As can be evidenced by the fact that you make a much better spy than anything else."

Sam blinked. "What?"

"Oh, come on," Megatron drawled before he began to tick points off on his fingers: "With your ability to switch between alt forms quickly and flawlessly, your excessive caution, your remarkable capability to escape situations that most others wouldn't be able to, your apparent ability to deceive sufficiently to get people to trust you...dear god, boy, how can you not see that you could be the perfect spy?"

Sam sighed and rolled his shoulders. "I guess. It's just...I never thought I'd have that kind of life. I'd always thought I'd become an astronomer, maybe an aerospace engineer, get married, have kids, live a mundane existence. Then you bunch showed up and now I'm slated to become the official liaison between Cybertronians and humanity once I graduate college. Sure, it's nice to know I have a secure future, but at the same time...it's like I haven't had any say in it."

Megatron shrugged. "Whatever you say, insect."

"Shut up, Megs."

Strangely enough, that caused both of them to smirk at each other before Sam returned his attention to the road.

All the up and down from the hilly landscape gave Sam quite the work-out, amusing him. Eventually, they found the place they were looking for, and Megatron gave it the strangest look. "What the hell were they thinking with the architecture?"

"I think it's quite nice," Sam replied dryly, having shifted his holoform to that of a young woman a while back. They pulled into the parking lot behind the science building and Sam sighed, leaning back into the seat. "Jesus, I'm going to have to be the one to get what we want."

"Yeah, considering that this is a single-gender college and I'm not going to get a sex-change any time soon."

Sam snorted and stepped out of his alt form, his physique akin to Mikaela's, since that was the best model for the feminine figure that he had. He sighed and ran a hand through his long hair, looking up at the window of the office of the professor and groaned inwardly. How the hell am I going to do this?

Let me, a small part of him whispered, the part that he could now identify as Shiftswitch, as his Decepticon-self. I can handle it.

Sam hesitated, but eventually let his humanity take a back seat to his new nature.

Shiftswitch took a deep breath and composed himself, pulling his long hair back into a ponytail, and checking his clothing again, making sure it behaved appropriately to the weather as well as being the appropriate cut and material for the time of year. He had to be convincing if he was to get anywhere. It would be a challenge, but a fun one.

He walked casually up a set of stairs and entered in through a back door into a stairwell, the musty scent of 'science building' hitting his sensors. He took the stairs slowly, feeling no need to rush and needing every moment to compose himself and get as much information as possible on the person he would be meeting.

He couldn't act too forthcoming—he had to be appropriately shy and uncertain for a first meeting with a potential teacher—but confident enough to show that he could survive in the rigorous academic setting this particular college provided.

Such a fine line to walk...

He pushed open the door to the third floor and walked out into the corridor. On his right were classrooms, on his left were professor's individual offices. In front of him at the other end of the hall were two other professor offices, one of which had the man he was looking for.

Thankfully, the door was open, probably signifying that he was allowed to enter. He licked his lips in surprising nervousness and knocked tentatively on the open door.

"Come in," was the soft voice from the inside.

Shiftswitch stepped in, looking curiously around the corner of wall that jutted into the office. The man who met his gaze didn't look like someone who would perform barely-legal testing, but one never could judge books by their covers.

"Um...hi," Shiftswitch said nervously. "I'm a...prospective student and I wanted to meet one of the professors..." he trailed off, his voice an exact replica of Mikaela's.

The man smiled kindly and gestured to the seat next to his desk. "Unless someone comes in for office hours, I'd be glad to speak with you."

Shiftswitch sat down delicately, smoothing out the wrinkles in his jeans. "Well..."

The conversation was halting at first, but Shiftswitch eventually got into a fascinating and informative conversation about the department. Throughout the entire conversation he asked little, leading questions that brought forth bits of information to be analyzed later.

Eventually, a student did arrive for office hours, forcing Shiftswitch to leave, but not without thanks for the conversation. The Decepticon excused himself gracefully and walked out of the office, back down the hall.

It had gone surprisingly well. Not once did the professor think that he was 1) not a girl, 2) not human, or 3) that he was fishing for information. It was a relief.

He was getting good at this.

Shiftswitch exited the building the same way he had come to find Megatron sleeping in the car, arm flung over his eyes and seat reclined all the way back. He snickered and got in the driver's seat silently before he reached over and pinched the small bit of bare flesh peeking out form beneath Megatron's shirt, making the Decepticon leader yell in surprise and sit up too quickly, resulting in him hitting his head on the roof of the car.

Shiftswitch laughed and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

"What was that for, Sam?" Megatron demanded, rubbing the spot on his head where he had hit the roof.

The name jolted Sam back to himself, although it was a more subtle process than it used to be. Sam gave Megatron a small, wry smile and said, "I got some information."

"Oh? What?"

"It's not particularly good."

"This isn't unusual for our situation, apparently," Megatron drawled.

Sam's lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. "He had a boss. Who is now, unfortunately, quite dead. He wrote a lot of papers, though, so it's possible that he printed something on his research...but it'll probably be in code or somethin', just to make life difficult."

"Thankfully, you have something better than a supercomputer for a brain, so it shouldn't be too hard," Megatron drawled.

Sam snorted. "Right." He sighed and put his forehead on the steering wheel, resting it against his hands. "Now, we head to New York"

"What? Why?"

"Because that's where his only living relative is, and she might have some insight into her crazy uncle's research."

Megatron made a noise of understanding before nodding. "Alright. So. New York it is. Let's hope that we figure all this nonsense out before the shit hits the fan in one way or another."

"You mean like me getting slagged by that Autobot police car that's been following me since we left the college?" Sam asked leisurely.

"Yes—wait, what?" Megatron asked sharply and looked in the rear-view mirror. "Oh, damnit all. This is probably a result of you turning into the alt form and projecting the signature of his former mate."

"Oh. Awkward."

"Mm-hm. Thankfully, unless you do something, he won't do anything. He's a nuisance, but an honor-bound nuisance," Megatron grumbled.

"And he has a name?"

"Prowl."

"Are there any other new Autobots I should be aware of?"

"Their communications officer arrived recently. Prowl is here, as well as Red Alert and Wheeljack. Those are the new-comers. Thankfully, a lot of them aren't...really warriors, although they can substitute as them if necessary. Red Alert is the security chief, Wheeljack is their main engineer and resident mad scientist, and Prowl is Prime's SIC. Prowl is the only one who would go after you. The others will make things that will do so for them."

"Ah, shit," Sam groaned. "Well, I'll just have to keep from giving them a reason to waste me."

"Oh, trust me—they'll find one eventually."

Sam grumbled as he merged onto the New Jersey Parkway, settling back into the flow of traffic. "Just want this to be over ASAP."

"Seconded. Now, I'm going to get some more sleep—do not wake me up this time."

"Whatever," Sam threw out, ignoring the warning in the former Decepticons voice, and shifted his car into a different form when he was blocked from view of the police car covertly tailing him, altering his holoform as well before settling in for a relatively long drive.

--

Post-note: Here is a better place to address an issue a few reviews have brought up:

In regards to Megatron's/Sam's baffling mass-shifting capabilities: I plead either E=mc^2 (so, all of the mass is converted into energy that is stored) or handwaving. I am personally a fan of the handwaving tactic.

Much love to all my readers!