Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. This one time, Arcee appears as three separate bike units with a split spark but all Arcee. Chromia and Elita are their own separate femme forms apart from the three Arcee bikes. I wrote this in a matter of hours and hopefully caught all the mistakes. Optimus transform is a real one. Look up Mickey Mouse at tf wiki net to see the transform.

I do not own Transformers only borrowing them as every other writer on this site. I also do not own Superman, Van Helsing, Mickey Mouse, or other named trademarked characters. Referenced here for fun and never for profit.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

You know you're addicted to humans when:

25. You spend more time choosing a Halloween costume than you did choosing an earth alt mode.

The NEST military base at Diego Garcia Island seemed merry and full of mischief as the humans prepared for Halloween. Those that could spend time with their families left days before to travel back to the United States. The rest resigned to military service and protecting the world from Decepticons and other threats celebrated on base.

SIC Prowl, after discussion with Optimus and the other command officers, allowed the one day of alt mode and armor appearances, as long as it did not affect combat capability. They gathered in Prime's official office, standing around the desk as only two Autobot size chairs existed in front of it. Unlike humans, their cables never tired like muscles and joints never locked unless they ordered them too.

"And your costume sir? Old West cowboy or Pirate again?" Prowl asked, glancing up at Prime from the datapad in his hands. He occupied the first chair, Ironhide the second. As benefitting their rank the reason, though Prowl and Optimus teased Ironhide, he got the second chair by being the oldest there and needing the chance to rest.

"Neither. Superman this year," Optimus grinned, waving a hand at his armor colors. "Same general red and blue with a few changes."

"Rule 29 of costumes, no capes. Too easy to entangle or snag in our gears and moving parts," Prowl reminded. He ignored Ironhide's vent at reciting a rule.

"The cape will be holographic. Wheeljack is finishing the image adjustments now," Optimus reassured. His memory core replayed last year's incident with Jazz and playing the human monster hunter Van Helsing. 'An exploding pumpkin, trained battle reflexes and instant shredded outfit,' Optimus winced, remembering Ratchet's choice comments on the matter.

"Third costume malfunction you've had Jazz since arriving on this planet. Hat, long coat and pants? Any other layers to wear and jam this time? Your treat and my trick," Ratchet grumbled, the pinchers on the end of his fingertips removing Cybertronian grade simulated cloth. "Next year pick an outfit without a cape, head ornamentation or related."

"Shoot, there goes playing the banana lady with the fruit hat," Jazz joked. The memory file closed, securing back away as Optimus focused on his office in the present day.

Ironhide rising to his feet pads, creaking hip gear barely audible to their sophisticated hearing ended the meeting. "If you two are done playing dress up, I got a mission to get to."

"I am assigned also and unless our chief medical officer meets us on the tarmac the mission is delayed. Moreover, I do not 'dress up' anything. Though I dress down truants and miscreants," Prowl said.

Ironhide nearly stumbled, trying to spin and look at the black and white officer. "Was that a joke? I thought only Christmas was the time for miracles. "

"Report back safely and I don't care what any bot wears. The rest of you, costume judging is tomorrow at seven a.m. in the main hangar and party at sunset. No changing alt modes or pranks until then," Optimus said as they began leaving. When the door slid shut behind his last officer, the clicking of his datapads keys filled the office. Grinning, his optics scanned the image. Ironhide wearing a pink hat with a feather on top of his head, while holding Annabelle and her tea set on his black armored palm. "Dress up indeed."

HALLOWEEN DAY

NEST BASE, DIEGO GARCIA ISLAND

In the main Autobot hangar, the costume contest continued. Those choosing not to alter their alt modes or wear holographic images watched each contestant walk, roll or glide in, often explaining their costume. Then the contestant joined the watchers as the next entry rolled, glided or walked in.

"Ladies," Jazz called, the revving of powerful engines answering. The three Arcee units rolled in, each wearing a banner across their left shoulder to tie at their hip. With another world precision, their wheeled fit moved them side to side in and around each other with barely a cable's width between their armored forms.

"I'm happily," the purple one announced.

"I'm after," the blue one stated, rolling next to the first one.

"And I'm ever," the pink Arcee bike announced.

"As in happily ever after!" all three chorused in unison. Aligning to roll next to each other so the phrase read left to right across their sashes. The sounds of clapping hands and whistles from the Autobots and human allies filled the air, with not one wolf whistle.

Elita smiled, pleased at their inventiveness. "Definitely a winner for most creative," she waved them to the sidelines.

"Our favorite human ambassador and chase me now Decepticon target," Jazz introduced, gesturing down as Sam walked in, smiling as they gasped. He kept walking until Bumblebee kneeled by him, his fingers twitching. The small yellow mech lifted his head and wailed.

"How could you!" Chromia translated, glaring at the human. The armored femme's fingers clenched and unclenched as though holding the grip of her favorite weapon.

"What?" Sam looked blank, running a hand across his slicked back hair. "It's James Dean, no big deal." He gestured at his boots, the dark pants, and the leather jacket.

His cell phone beeped, downloading a text message. :: You are wearing dead animal skin. Where is your spark? An animal died for that costume. Bumblebee::

"Dead? Oh, the leather. It is a jacket, a present from my roommate Leo. Looks pretty cool huh?" Sam asked then winced at the negative grumbles and high-pitched sounds from all the Transformers. The sight of his best friend Bumblebee venting and sagging on his knee gears bothered him more. "All right, the jacket goes. See?" He took it off, walking over and dropping it into the nearest trash can. "Gone, never wear it again or anything else leather okay? Didn't mean it to be a problem," he apologized.

:: Why would you choose a young man who died in a car crash? Have I not been the perfect Guardian?::Bumblebee texted onto his phone.

"What?" Sam sputtered after reading it. "He was cool. You know, a rebel and all that. No Bee, do not do that. You're killing me with the weeping wipers. Fine, we can go with your idea of Jedi Knights. But no working light sabers this time. Prowl made me promise after I sliced that fire hydrant in half."

The yellow armored scout played a cheering sound, activating his hologram to show him in long brown and white robes.

"Master Bee, looking good," Jazz said, his visor flaring bright blue left to right. The silver armored scout adjusted his headpiece, his claw hand removing the gold jewel encrusted crown off his head. The holographic sword on Jazz's hip blazed the name Excalibur as he moved, the regal holographic robes moving to match his walking. Waving, he tucked the crown back into subspace as the holograms disappeared, returning to patrol around the base. Assigned to first response, his costume worn for real later at the party. Minus the cape.

"Any other contestants?" Elita consulted her datapad.

"Ratchet, Prowl and Ironhide are in their quarters, returned early this morning local time. First Aid needs only to confirm their armor retains none of the radioactive gel before releasing them among the humans. Silverbolt is flying Wheeljack to the incident site to confirm clean up there. Cover story is a long dormant volcano going active," Optimus said.

"Happens all the time on this planet, humans won't suspect a Decepticon experiment gone wrong," Chromia shrugged, moving to pass out the energon cubes from the long serving table. Oil cakes, rust sticks and other Cybertronian treats covered its surface; off limits to even touching by the humans least they accidentally injure or poison themselves. None of them realized the twins were missing.

Inside Prowl's quarters, Sunstreaker closed the side chest panel, careful to not disturb the recharging mech. His black and white form lay stretched across his recharge berth, graceful wing doors hanging to the sides. An incoming comm signal nearly sent Sunstreaker jumping off his struts. ::You done yet bro'?:: Sideswipe

::Done having a spark attack. Just finishing the seam seal now. You better have calculated how long the dormant coding will keep them under:: Sunstreaker sent, backing slowly out of the room.

:: To the astro second. Three calculations will not strain my processors. Let's roll:: Sideswipe.

Minutes later, three mech's recharge timers activated, waking them up. Morning rituals followed, each a differing routine to grab energon, report medical symptoms or lack off and use the wash racks. Ratchet left the Autobot quarters first, intent on verifying Wheeljack's report. Their Cybertronian armor protected them, earth's biological basis ensuring disaster if the contaminants got loose in a populated area. Stopping at the general hangar for both Transformer and human use, his optics scanned humans, identifying each one while comparing a general medical file.

"Morning sir," the human officer greeted him courteously, setting down the datapad on the table by his feet pads before turning smartly on his heels and leaving.

Ratchet sniffed, detecting nothing abnormal in the man's bio signature either. "Usually he runs from me. Hmm, must be loose processor chip from too much sun. These are security reports for Prowl." Venting, the large green yellow armored mech lifted the datapad, carrying it across the base. It happened by accident really. Deliberately avoiding the kitchen and commissary areas, lest his circuits fritz at the amount of sugary, unhealthy snacks consumed and prepped for later, Ratchet took the long way around the perimeter buildings towards their main hangar. Rounding the last building, he came faceplate to faceplate with himself.

"I don't remember approving you to wear my faceplate," the medic ground out as the other bot's blue optics widened.

"Why are you pretending to be me?" Prowl's vocal came out of the other's image, the shock clear in the tone.

"Don't play dumb," Ratchet jabbed a finger at him, realizing something was amiss. Prowl had a hidden sense of humor and it would not include double imaging.

"Oh slag," the other swore, facing the side of the metal hangar. Ratchet's jaw gears dropping as both their images appeared like normal, but on each other.

Fifteen minutes later, they stood before Optimus and the others in their hangar, unable to explain how it happened.

"I'm Ratchet," Prowl stated, his yellow green side jaw plates swinging as he talked. He tried crossing his arms only to snag a wrist plate on his own front guard bars from his alt mode.

"And I'm Prowl," Ratchet stated, his black and white wing doors flaring straight up with agitation.

Optimus optics rotated back and forth between them, his internal sensors confirming their unique energy signatures, his battle components to recognize them as friendly. "Your sparks?"

"Intact, as are our memory cores and processor cubes. Only our external frames are different," Ratchet reported.

"But your energy signatures," Optimus stated the obvious.

"Read reverse, we know. Only our voices indicate our true existence," Prowl stated, his faceplates mirroring Ratchet's usual unhappy look. "I have already forwarded a request to Wheeljack for expediting back to Diego Garcia."

"You are both relieved of duty until this is straightened out. And nominate you for most realistic costumes," Optimus chuckled. His large blue and red form shook with mirth as he moved away from them.

"That one is mine," Moonracer pointed at the black and white wing door mech. "I can feel his spark call to me." Her hands wrapped around his arm, feeling strange angles. ::You have to return to normal::

:: I will :: Ratchet reassured, pulling her into a half hug.

::Either that or I am never looking at you in the light again:: Moonracer teased., her fingers tracing across his lower square jaw and smooth sides.

::I can handle that:: Ratchet smirked then continued when his femme narrowed her optics. ::The light of our sparks will be enough as they merge in the darkness of our quarters:: He wiggled his eyebrow plates, Prowl's features being far more expressive than his own. Bumblebee and Sam walked in the side door, both dressed in brown and white robes carrying plastic light swords.

"Uh, did we miss something?" Sam puzzled, seeing Moonracer snuggling with Prowl and Ratchet watching them both. The medic never yelled, never threatneed and even seemed to approve of the open affection display.

Bumblebee wiped at his optics with both yellow armored fists, before shuttering his optics. Opening them, he glanced back and forth then warbled his confusion. Behind them the twins, exchanged a smirk.

:: One more change to go:: Sunstreaker sent to his red twin.

That evening, the party continued, visible on the security camera link in Optimus' office. He regretted missing the fun but his pride kept him contained.

"Sir, are you sure? The others will miss you," Prowl tried one more time. Standing outside the office door, the green and yellow armored mech understood the other's reasoning even as his own curiosity threatened to overwhelm his desire to respect his privacy. 'I am not overriding this door and getting a look. That's unprofessional,' he reasoned. But oh, how he was tempted. Enduring the day appearing as Ratchet strained his systems until he realized the humans normally running from him fearing an inspection or reprimand smiled at the medic's form. The data and actions witnessed filled a report of problems for handling, once he had his regular chassis shape back.

"Completely," Optimus baritone voice rumbled from inside his office and through the door. "I am not letting any bot see me in this state."

"Understood. You were apparently the last target. I have shared command with Ironhide until Wheeljack returns. Ratchet remains locked in his quarters with Moonracer. Is there anything you need sir?"

"No," the vocal rumbled through the door again.

Twenty minutes later, Optimus snapped up as the door opened, the sharp reprimand on his lip plates. "I said to..." It stopped the second Elita's energy signature flashed across his systems. His alt mode remained parked by his desk, the datapad in reach of his front bumper.

"Why are you in your alt mode?" She asked, her blue optics roving over his armor plating. Other than a few odd angles, his basic coloring and shape remained intact. She never moved as he began shifting, transforming up a giant mouse shape instead of his normal bi pedal mode.

"Opti mouse," he winced. "Cross reference the human cartoon character Mickey Mouse and my current form." He waited for her laughter or comment but it never came.

"I know. That's why I changed my costume," she stated calmly from the doorway.

"Your costume?" He repeated, finally looking at her. The datapad nearly slid off the desk with the force of air expelled from his intakes. His optics blazed and he distantly thought he heard the clunk of his jaw gear falling off.

"You like?" Elita smiled, one black armored hand reaching down to curl her cat's tail around her wrist. From footpad to helm, her armor was a shiny black with a single patch of white across her chest plates to her neck plating. Her normal twin side helm points reshaped to cat's ears down to the added whiskers across her angled nose plate. "Meow," she purred as she stalked towards the desk.

"Wow!" he exclaimed.

"Had to remove most my armor and subspace pullers to make the shape work but I don't think we'll be going into battle," she admitted.

"We're going to our quarters, now!" He smirked springing around the desk and grabbing her close.

"That means you like?" she purred. His lip plates pressing against hers cut off further conversation. They never made it to their quarters. The morning found them entwined in each other's arms, deeply in recharge on the office floor.

Three days later Ratchet, returned to his normal form, confirmed Elita carrying twin sparkling essences from that night. Two days after that she delivered both femmes with strong sparks. Optimus tired of hearing the jokes from 'Cat got your spark' to 'trying for a litter of sparklings' to 'he's the cat's meow of parental mechs.' He never tired of reliving the exact moment the sparkling's optics opened for the first time to focus on him.

Prowl made a chart of rules regarding altering alt modes, transforms and sneaking into personal quarters. He suspected Sideswipe and Sunstreaker but could never prove it. The morning their screams rang out, their alt modes reshaped to match Starscream and Megatron made his day. Locking the twins into the brig at their request to keep them safe until the changes undid made Prowl's week.