Hey everyone, long time no see, I know. And I am really sorry about how long this update has taken (several months...) but I assure you I have reasons.

The last few months have been my last few at school. As such, I kind of spent a lot more time on the study route and my stories all just sort of fell to the side. But now, with my exams over and a whole four months of nothing ahead of me, I hope to be able to update much more frequently!

So, sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter four: Adjusting

The loud beeping of my alarm jolted me awake the next morning. Grouchily I stuck my hand out from under the covers and, with a small wave of telekinesis, made the small red clock fly into my hand. Blearily I sat, fumbling blindly for the small lamp beside me, smoothing down the birds nest which was supposedly my hair. I still felt a little weary following the excessive teleporting yesterday and I could have sworn that my stomach was digesting itself. Following my return with Optimus from our trip to the mall I had essentially turned the Autobots over to the care of Lennox and, hardly able to keep my feet, had excused myself for a very early night. I couldn't deny that close to eleven hours of sleep had certainly made a difference. With a long suffering sigh, I eased myself out of the warm bed, flinching as my toes came in contact with the cold laminate floor.

Prior to the events of Egypt and the Matrix, plans had been made to expand the base, primarily to allow room for the growing numbers of NEST operatives and Autobots alike. As such, in the first few weeks following the battle for the Matrix, the entire NEST team had essentially picked up and moved to a much larger base, roughly two clicks from the coast of Washington State. There was no access by road. The only way in or out of the base was either by boat, plane or chopper.

The new base was probably double the size of the old one and much more high tech. Because of the nature of its residents, the US Government had basically forbidden the architects to construct it on the mainland of America, not wanting to risk the possibility of civilians accidentally stumbling across it. But the sheer size had meant that finding an island large enough to accommodate the base that wasn't inhabited and wasn't too far from the mainland was impossible. So the architects had gone for the next best alternative. They had found a small, densely forested island and, with the assistance of some Cybertronian technology, had built around it to create an immense floating extension. This looped around the natural anchor like a large horseshoe, connected to a smaller circular structure directly ringing the island by a series of laneways, varying in size, like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. Some of the laneways were clustered with buildings, connected via bridges and walkways to buildings on the neighbouring extensions; some were bare, roadways for military vehicles or, in the case of the lengthened spokes near one end of the horseshoe, runways.

The immense structure had been meticulously subdivided, to ensure that enough space was provided for each aspect of life on the base, such as storage for military vehicles and equipment, a docking yard, aircraft hangers, mission control and the official residence for troops. The largest segment had been dedicated to the new high tech training facility, in part designed by Ratchet, to accommodate for the training of new recruits in the art of fighting giant robots.

In short, the new base rocked! The increased space also covered another problem which had been brought about by the humanisation of the Autobots. The old base had really only facilitated for a small to medium team of humans, and before we had made the move to this new headquarters, there would have been no room for a dozen newly fledged humans. Now there was room, and spare.

Opening the door of my room, I came almost face to face with Lennox, who was posed, ready to knock, 'Ah, Ally, there you are.'

'Morning,' I smiled briefly, 'how are the bots?'

Judging by Lennox's facial expression that was the wrong question to ask, 'Let's just say I would have had less trouble with a flock of screaming infants.'

I blinked, confused and a little concerned, 'What? Why?

'Because infants can't run away and aren't tall enough to reach into cupboards or into the draws where we keep the knives,' Lennox said bitterly.

'Oh God, has anyone…?'

'No, they're all still alive. But Ally, you seriously need to sit down with them and have a chat.'

I nodded, 'okay. I'll do that. None of them are showing any signs of becoming robots again, are they?'

He shook his head and huffed. Honestly, I hadn't expected that any of them would have, but a girl can always hope. Carefully I pushed open the door to the spacious rec room and beheld the still very human Autobots. They were scattered around the room, variously seated on the couches or standing in little groups talking. I glanced up at Lennox.

'They don't seem like they've been wreaking havoc all night,' I commented.

'They've calmed down a little now, probably because I told them I was going to get you,' was his reply, 'now, if you'll excuse me Ally, I need a nap.'

Quickly he disappeared out the door and I turned back to the Autobots, hands on my hips, assessing them. After a minute, I cleared my throat and almost at once they all turned to look at me, 'So, you've officially driven Lennox insane.'

There was no response from them at first, until Optimus, who had previously been standing with Ratchet, stepped forward, 'Our apologies. We were simply attempting to understand these new bodies of ours.'

'I figured that,' I pulled a stool from the corner as I spoke and settled myself down, legs crossed, hands clasped over my knee, 'how'd that aspect of discovery go?'

All of them exchanged sheepish glances which really said it all. Nodding to myself, I chewed corner of my lower lip, cogs already turning as I thought about the best way to go about this. Considering that over twelve hours later they were still in these human forms, it would be prudent to teach them a little more about their new bodies and how to operate and function in them.

On an afterthought I turned to Ratchet, 'how's your knowledge of the human body?'

'Decent enough, why?' he looked perplexed.

'Decent enough to explain to them the basic functions?'

'You mean basic functions such as the consumption of food and the excrement of waste products?' he asked and I nodded.

'Pretty much. Do you think you could handle those explanations while I take care of how to navigate human utensils 101?' I smiled slightly when he nodded in agreement.

Sitting back as much as I dared on my little stool I surveyed the Autobots for a long minute before saying, 'right you lot, I think it's time to give you the tour of the human sector of our little base.'

…

The pounding in his processor was intense, like someone had jammed a surgical tool between his optics and hammered it in. Slowly he raised a hand to his helm, then froze in shock.

Optics still closed, he frowned as he touched the strange, soft tuft across his head. It felt kind of prickly, but spongy, a funny sensation. Frowning his optics opened, and almost at once he knew that something had indeed gone very wrong. The thing in front of his face was not his usual metallic, clawed hand. Instead it was pale pink, and … squishy.

Swearing loudly he sat up, unsure how he had ended up lying on the ground and looked down at his body. Only, it honestly didn't look like his body. It was small and fleshy, the protective metallic armour gone, replaced with some foreign purple material which covered his body and pale pink flesh. Human flesh.

In a moment of the purest horror, Megatron realised what he was seeing. He was a human, or at least his mind was in one of those human bodies. He was one of those pathetic insects with their meagre, fragile bodies and primitive minds.

He began to intake oxygen at a far more rapid rate, something he had never needed to do before. How was this possible? How could he become one of these pests? It simply wasn't logical.

Another voice from somewhere close by made him look up. Standing over him was another human, also clothed in the same purple suit, which was peeling off sections of their body, leaving the delicate skin exposed.

'Lord Megatron?' the human asked uncertainly, his red eyes narrowed, face twisted into a look which seemed to speak of confusion.

Frowning, Megatron eyed the small frame of the human. His voice sounded familiar, but all the same, Megatron wasn't sure, 'Barricade?'

'Yes sir,' the human awkwardly saluted in a mess of skinny limbs.

'The others, are they…'

'Human sir? Yes, it would seem so,' Barricade, now having established that this was indeed Megatron, extended a hand, offering to help him to his feet, 'the balance is slightly different my lord, perhaps you require aid to stand?'

Begrudgingly Megatron accepted the hand, and allowed the scout to pull him to his feet. Almost at once he wobbled and would have collapsed had he not been steadied. Gritting his teeth he cursed his weakness and the humiliation of it all. To be human was bad enough, but to be unable to keep his feet was even worse.

'Get me Shockwave,' he growled, pushing Barricade away from him and clinging to a nearby wall instead, 'he'd better know what in the blazes is going on here.'

Nodding, Barricade hurried away, looking unsteady and stumbling every few steps. As he left, Megatron looked up at his surroundings. The run down warehouse they had selected as their base as he recovered from the wounds inflicted on him in Egypt had seemed cramped before, but now it was seemed enormous. The dingy ceiling was so far above him he had to crane his neck to look up at it. Everything seemed so much further away on his pathetically small human legs which were still shaking as he attempted to stay on his feet.

He was at a loss as to what was happening. Surely it wasn't possible for them to suddenly revert to being humans? Perhaps it was some sort of illusion, a scenario set up in his memory banks to test him, a nightmare. Those all seemed like much more viable options than this odd and seemingly physically impossible change.

He was interrupted by Barricade returning, leading another much larger human. This other human was walking with no qualms, appearing to already have the balance established perfectly. He was tall for a human, and seemed quite bulky in build. His red eyes were unblinking as he bowed low to Megatron.

'My lord, I am glad to see that you have woken at last,' he spoke in a low, smooth voice which could only have belonged to Shockwave.

The scientist had arrived on Earth a few weeks ago, following a request from Blitzwing, to see to Megatrons wounds and to ensure that the repairs were done correctly. Now it appeared that he would be needed a little longer.

'Shockwave, tell me you have some idea about what is happening?' Megatron said sharply.

Slowly Shockwave stood from his bow, 'I have some hypothesis's established my lord.'

'And?'

'I cannot confirm anything without proper and in depth testing my lord, I apologise. I shall work to establish myself at a decent work station as soon as possible, seeing as mine is currently inoperable in this form, so I can begin to form a conclusion,' Shockwave seemed perfectly calm as he spoke, 'but perhaps in the meantime my lord, may I suggest that we introduce the troops to some of the human customs?'

At that final statement, Megatron scoffed, 'no self-respecting Decepticon would wish to be introduced to anything that these pests partake in.'

Respectfully, Shockwave bowed again, 'that may be so my lord, but from what I have come to understand after researching these primitive beings, is that many of their customs have evolved for means of comfort and modesty. Please take for example, clothing. It has been designed to protect the delicate human body from the elements and to preserve modesty. It would only be prudent, lord Megatron, that while we are human, we do as humans do.'

With his new human features morphed into what could only be described as a scowl, Megatron regarded the Scientist, thinking over what he had said. His red eyes narrowed as they flicked to Barricade, still standing in the corner, frail and pathetic in his human form. Eventually, he nodded once and raised his chin.

'Very well Shockwave, I'll trust your judgement on this. But you had best discover the answer behind this humiliating transformation as soon as possible, or I will make you regret your very existence.'

…

'And this Optimus, is where you'll sleep,' I said with a grin as I gestured to a plain white door.

Raising an eyebrow at my enthusiasm, Optimus pushed open the door, after taking a second to figure out the correct way to turn the handle. I followed him into the room and flicked on the overhead light. The layout of his room was exactly the same as mine, and probably everyone else's on the base, save for the bunk rooms assigned to the junior officers.

Much like mine, the room was painted a plain white, with a laminate floor. There was a bed attached to the far wall, covered in a generic light blue bedspread, and with several storage draws in the space underneath the bed. Across from the bed was a small desk, complete with a table lamp and a plain black roller chair. Apart from this the only other furniture in the room was a chest of drawers and a shelf beside the bed which I personally utilised as a bedside table.

'What do you think?' I asked him, leaning against the door frame.

'I think it is … nice?' he sounded a little unsure, 'Ally, I'm afraid I have no real knowledge of human furnishings so I don't really know what I should think.'

I laughed softly, 'you remember what I was telling you earlier about how to use all this stuff?'

'I do.'

'Good. This is just the generic room design, but if you're human for any real length of time then you can probably look at personalising it a little more. It is officially your room after all.'

'What do you mean by personalise?'

'Make it more your own,' I shrugged, 'Like I've done with mine, I kind of ditched the old blue bedspread and got my own, and I've put up a few pictures, bought a lamp and just generally made a mess.'

Still seeming a little perplexed Optimus opened one of the draws under the bed and closed it absently almost at once. We had brought the clothes that we had bought him into the room with us, but they just sat in their bags, untouched. I quickly pointed out to him that he could put the clothes in the draws if he wanted.

I was just about to leave him be, when he suddenly spoke, from where he was perched on the edge of the bed, 'what are you going to tell Abbie?'

Rapidly I spun to face him, although he didn't look up at me as he continued picking at a loose thread on the bed sheets with fascination, 'Abbie?'

'Yes, Abbie. I am assuming that you will inform her of these unusual developments?' his glowing blue eyes locked with mine.

For a second I was speechless, as I came to the realisation that Optimus was right, at some point I would have to inform her of these strange occurrences. Eventually, I shook my head and nodded briskly.

'Right, Abbie,' I sighed, 'this is probably not a conversation I can have with her over the phone.'