I only own my OC's!

A Complete 180˚

my room, normal pov

I switch off the alarm on the clock Papa gave us and quickly change into a yellow short sleeved dress, a white apron with yellow trim, white stockings, and brown button shoes. Nellie changes into the same thing quickly. We braid our hair and tie on our yellow bonnets, then leave the room. Sire hands us our morning cubes. We down it before running upstairs to Momma and our human breakfast.

"Morning, girls."

"Mornin', Momma."

"Mornin'!"

She sits beside us with two plates of pancakes and sausage. We give her a look. "Dad made it." I nod, and pick up my fork. Momma may be good with rescues, but she stinks at cooking. "I thought I'd take you into town for the day. I need a haircut, and I thought you two might like to be pampered."

Nellie beams. "Okay."

I nod. This sounds like fun. "Just let me tell Carrier, and we can go."

"You'll be with Blades and I, Sweetheart. I'm sure Heatwave will be okay with that."

"Me too, but he's still cranky with Sire, and I can feel it in my spark, so I don't want to risk it." We finish our breakfast and run to the fire pole, then run to Carrier. "Carrier!"

He turns and kneels to us. "Mari, Chase is trying to rest."

Nellie smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."

I sigh softly. "Momma wants to take us to town today. Said she was getting her hair cut, and wants us to go with her."

He sighs softly. "You can, Little Ones, but be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

We nod. "Yes, Carrier."

garage

"Well?"

"Carrier said we could. Let's go!"

hair salon

Nellie pours over the list of services as I stand beside her. Momma looks down at me. "Emily?" I turn to her. "Want to get something done?"

I look down the list in Nellie's hands. "You tol' us to tell them we got our hair dyed… I hate havin' to lie."

Momma tilts her head to the side. "Want to get your hair dyed?"

I sigh softly. "Not all of it."

"Highlights?" She smiles when I nod, and I point to one of their in-stock colors. "Pink?" I nod. Nellie?"

"Yellow!"

Momma nods. "All right. I'll talk with the stylist."

While Momma talks with the stylist, Nellie and I look through a book of hair styles. Momma returns and sits beside us. "See anything you like?"

I shake my head. "Not really."

"You excited?"

"Yeah." I sigh softly. "Would you help us?"

"With what, Em?"

Nellie sighs. "We want to fit in better, but we don't know how."

Momma nods. "Of course I will. I'll take you down to your room once we get home."

Nellie beams. "Thanks, Momma."

I nod. "Yeah, thanks."

"Dani?"

"Emily?"

"Nellie?"

"Come on, girls."

They sit the three of us on either side of a triangular table. "Are they your daughters, Dani?"

"They will be." Momma smiles up at her stylist. "I'm working on adopting them."

"I heard they got stuck here from the 1800's."

"1880." I sigh softly.

Nellie glares at her before turning to me. "Can't they ever get it right?"

I shrug. "I guess not, Nell…"

"I dyed her hair blue a couple days ago, but she wants pink highlights now."

"I can do that." My stylist looks down to me. "Come on. Let's get your hair washed so we can get started."

Nellie turns to her stylist. "I want yellow please."

one hour later

I look in the mirror at my now pink and blue braids. Nellie stands beside me, admiring her blue and yellow braids. Momma rests her hands on our shoulders. "You like it?"

Nellie nods. I can feel the excitement pouring off her. "Yep!"

"Love it, Momma." I sigh softly.

"Ready to go through your clothes?"

I nod. "Let's roll!"

She laughs softly. "Let's go."

home, bunker, normal pov

Momma rifles through my closet as Nellie and I sit beside the closet in our easy chairs. She pulls out a dress with leggings, as I had learned what the pants Frankie had been wearing were called. "What about this, Emily?"

"It's cute."

Momma laughs. "It's supposed to be. Want to try it on?"

"Sure!" I slip out of my dress before taking the outfit from Momma. I slip into the pink and white long sleeved dress with a purple crown graphic and a pink tulle skirt with a purple bow, dark pink leggings, purple socks, and white boots. Momma takes my bonnet and changes it for a silver tiara with two S swirls and a small loop under a center star, coated in white diamonds as she hands Nellie a matching outfit and tiara. "Want to show Blades?"

"Yeah!"

We run out of our room and toward where Sire and Carrier are talking. I run to them. "Carrier! Sire!"

"Mari, what—" Carrier looks surprised to see us in modern clothes. "Little Ones, that's beautiful."

I smile up at him. "Thank you, Carrier."

"I like it, Sweetspark." Sire turns to Momma. "Ready for patrol?"

"Let's go."

"Come on, girls. We've got lessons and training."

I groan. "Awh."

Nellie turns to me. Even with the split-spark, and telepathy, we usually stick to English. "You don't want to do your lessons?"

I scoff. "It's not the lessons I hate, Nell. It's the training."

Carrier scowls. "Stop complaining, Mariposa. It's not going to take long, and you can play this afternoon."

I nod. "I know." I turn toward Chase's closed door. "How's Chase?"

"Not good today."

I sigh heavily. "Let me check on him, then we can go."

I knock on Chase's berth room door before opening it. I hadn't heard a call from him for me to come in, but I figured he was recharging. "Chase?" He glances up to me from the can in his hands before purging again. I run over to him, shifting forms on the way. "Chase!"

"Mari? What's—" Nellie runs in when she hears me shout. "Saf—" He finally notices Chase, and sighs. "I tried to keep them with me."

He sets the waste can on the floor and turns to us. "They are fine, Heatwave. The femmes are simply worried about me. I do not mind their presence." He sighs. "I am sure my sisters would be worried as well."

"You have sisters!" I step back, banging my doorwings on Carrier's stomach plating. "OW!" I stumble forward before landing on my knees. Nellie, though uninjured, falls as well. Our twin-connection causes us to share not only communications and emotions, but pain as well.

"MARI! SAF!" Carrier kneels to us, practically diving in his haste to make sure we're all right.

"Heatwave, do not make such a big deal over this. She will have far worse damage than this over her life cycle." Chase climbs out of his berth before stepping over to the three of us. He glances over Nellie's doorwings. "Just their twin connection. They are equal to split-spark twins."

"They are split-spark twins, Chase."

"I know." He then looks over my doorwings. "There is very little damage. All that is required on your part is washing the red flecks off her doorwings. I am sure either Graham or Blades will be able to repair them if her self-repair systems haven't cared for it by the time they return."

"Chase, I can't just—"

"I have younger sisters, Heatwave, and both have Praxian frames. I got to grow up with one, but I barely got to meet my baby sister before we had to leave for patrol."

I look up to him. The idea of him having a sister is pretty exciting. "You have a baby sister?"

Chase nods to me. "She is your age, Mariposa. If I am correct, and without my Carrier's battle computer, I cannot be sure, but I am assuming you are five orns younger than her, and two orns younger than my youngest uncle."

Carrier turns from studying my doorwings for serious damage to continue. "Making you two the youngest Praxian younglings." He sighs. "Come on. Chase is right. I have to wash off what paint you've chipped off my armor before your Sire assumes the worst about me." He turns to Nellie. "You can come if you want, Safire. You'll need to learn about the wash-racks anyway."

wash racks

Carrier growls. He's been trying to wash my doorwings for half an hour now. "Mari, hold still!"

"I'm trying, Carrier! They just won't stay put!"

He sighs and sets the cloth down. "Mari…"

I all but start to cry as I throw myself into his plating. "I don't know why they flutter like that, but I don't want them to!"

Nellie nods. I know she agrees. She's just as sick of it as I am. "It makes them so tired!"

Carrier sighs. "I'm sure it does."

"Optimus said he could send Bumblebee out to train you to control your doorwings if we needed him, but he's not Praxian."

"Anything's better than having tired doorwings. When they're tired, everything's tired."

"I wouldn't doubt it. Blades is still having trouble with his rotors, too, but as an adult, it's easier for him." He picks the cloth back up and gently holds my doorwings still, one at a time, to wash the red flecks off.

"Now, I'll contact Bumblebee." He shrugs. "I can put your Cybertronian lessons off for the day. This is more important. I don't like seeing you two in pain."

"Thanks, Carrier."

"But, you're picking up in your lessons tomorrow." He sighs. "And if I have to, I'll take you out of school, and homeschool you. You'll be going on break soon, according to Cody, but I'm not sure I can get you caught up to your grade level by the time we can make it back to Cybertron. You need to know bots your own age."

"I know."

with Heatwave, heatwave's pov

I sigh and queue up Optimus' frequency, then step back. I need to appear professional.

"Heatwave? Have you experienced difficulties?"

"Not exactly, Sir. The twins—" I sigh softly. "They're having trouble with their doorwings."

"I assume you want Bumblebee for the day?"

"Yes, Sir."

Ratchet sighs from behind Optimus. "I can't teach Mariposa and Safire medicine if you keep pulling them from their lessons!"

"I'm trying to teach them to read and write in our language, and I keep getting interrupted by either Chase because of the purgings or her doorwings exhausting her reserves!"

"Calm down, Heatwave."

"Chase is sparked?"

I rub the back of my neck. "I assumed Mari or Saf told you during their lessons." I sigh. "Yes, Chase is sparked. He has been spending most of his time in his berth, making my team short-staffed, but we are handling it."

Optimus steps back in front of his medic. "How are their doorwings exhausting the younglings' reserves? I was not aware they were causing difficulties for them."

I sigh softly. "They move constantly. Boulder says they're like a butterfly's wings, fluttering in and out."

"Understood. I will send Bumblebee."

half an hour later

Nellie and I are sitting in the Carrier's fire truck form, back in our human forms. "Carrier, what are we—"

"Just be patient, Little Ones. We're just waiting to lead Bumblebee to the bunker. He has to leave before Blades returns from patrol, or I'll never hear the end of it."

"Oh…" I sigh softly. "But he'll be able to help?"

"Possibly." He smiles. "Optimus said he'd send a few human learning games Ratchet had modified to teach Cybertronian sparklings."

I have to speak up. I hate being called a baby. "But I'm not a—"

"I know, Little Ones, but you are essentially their level in learning our language. This will help you."

"Well, Ratch did say he was sparked too."

Carrier smiles over the screen. "I'm content for now, with my Little Ones."

We giggle and hug Carrier's seats. "Love you."

"I am a little worried that you'll be too alone. You seemed exited when you found out that Chase was sparked."

"I love babies of any species. Kittens, calves, puppies, chicks, ducklings… Foals… Sparklings…"

Carrier chuckles as the ferry pulls up. "I get it."

"You're Heatwave, right?"

"Yeah, let's go."

bunker

Once we're home, we shift into our Cybertronian forms and ride the platform down with Carrier and Bumblebee. Once we step off the platform, Bumblebee turns to us. "Optimus said you needed some help?"

I nod and motion to my fluttering doorwings. "Tired doorwings aren't fun."

"I know what you mean."

Nellie looks up at him. "How could you—"

He waves his doorwings. "I've got doorwings too. I understand."

She glances back to her fluttering doorwings. "Oh…"

"Ratchet sent a few learning games. He said you weren't having an easy time learning our language either."

I nod. "We can understand it, but we can't speak it, or read it."

"That's one reason I'm here. I can help you."

Nellie waves her doorwings before trying to make them stop, groaning when they flutter again. "What about our doorwings?"

"Watch this." He moves his up, then down. We glance over our shoulders as ours do the same. "They'll copy mine. Praxian sparklings learn from sparklinghood to control their doorwings by watching their creators. It's called guiding. You two don't have Praxian creators, because you're techno-organic, and adopted. I can guide you." He smiles. "I've met split-spark twins before—I grew up around them—but I've never seen Praxian split-sparks. You two are the first I've seen." He stands. "Now come on, let's get started with these games." We look at the video games in his hands skeptically. "I'll show you how to play them."

that evening

I'm lying on my bed in Cybertronian form, playing one of the learning games Bumblebee had left for me, my doorwings in a stoic V for once. I'm surprised that our wooden bed is strong enough to stand my weight, and big enough for my frame. Carrier must have had something to do with that.

Nellie is laying on the floor with her datapad diary—something we had gotten from Momma. They'd been downloaded by Boulder onto Cybertronian tech.

We start when we hear the alarm connected to the platform, and run out. Sire steps off the platform and smiles as we run over to hug him. "Missed you."

He kneels to us. "I missed you too, Sweetsparks." That's when he notices our doorwings. "Mari… Saf…" He looks up to Carrier. "When did they—" He motions to our still doorwings.

"We had an incident today, and I had to call Optimus. He sent one of his mechs out to help her control them."

"An incident?" He turns back to us. "What happened?"

I sigh softly. "Chase startled me, an' I backed into Carrier. All I did was scratch his paint, but—"

"It's fine." He stands. "I'll get them some energon. Dani said she'd have supper ready soon." I cringe, causing Carrier to kneel to me, thinking something's wrong, and Sire to laugh. "Dani can't cook, Heatwave. That's all. Mari's fine—Saf too."

"And you're sure your partner won't poison my femmes?"

"She hasn't killed Cody yet."

He grimaces at the thought. "That's reassuring."

We run upstairs for supper, and slide into our seats beside Cody. "Hey, Cody."

"Hey—Whoa."

Nellie turns to Cody with a smile. "Whoa what?"

"Your hair."

I pull my braids forward and look down at them. "Oh. You like?"

"Emily…" He glances to my sister. "Nellie…"

"What?"

"You've done a complete one eighty since we met. You used to wear those long dresses, and bonnets, now you're wearing modern clothes, and you've got highlights."

Nellie smirks. "Tiaras too!"

"Yeah…" I smooth my tutu skirt nervously. "I figured I'd better stick to modern dresses, now that my hair's blue."

"Well, I like it."

"Thanks, Cody." I sigh as Momma slides a plate in front of me.