Ok I've gotten a few messages that are making me guilty... But finals are nearly over, so that means for a little while I can type to my hearts content :)
I just made a little somethin somethin to show I'm not a quitter, it's short and people will hate me but it's better than nothin! Should be more by the end of the weekend ;)
Love!!
xoxox

Prowl had been tramping through the thickly forested Rockies for most of the night before we really spoke again. He seemed preoccupied, and I was nervous around him, a complete stranger. Prowl was a big guy, and many times he had to duck under or completely circumnavigate the smaller trees, forcing me to stay awake in order to cling to his unsteady shoulder. It was difficult, the soft familiar hum of the mechanisms whirring under his skin soothing me.

He acted like I didn't exist until I nearly fell off, dozing. His large warm hand shot up and steadied my as I begin to slip along his slick metallic finish. "Watch it there, I think the troops want you back in one piece. Hotrod and Mirage wouldn't shut up, before I cut off transmissions. You've got a… a feel about you, I guess I would call it. It's kind of nice, most species don't have it. If the rest of your kind are anything like you, I can see why Optimus would want to stay… Kinda warm, a soothing feeling…"

I was uncomfortable, but I tried not to show it. None of the autobots had ever gone into that kind of detail, but it explained why Skywarp was so calm around me… and maybe Hotrod's little romantic outburst before.

"So… You don't have anything to transform into yet, do you Prowl?" I asked, anxious to change the subject.

"Nope, but we're almost to a highway so I think I'll be able to fix that soon. We need to be under cover by daylight, which is in about an hour."

"Don't you have some… alien thing to transform into?"

"We usually drop our alts to manage space travel. Lighter is faster."

"Do you care what kind of car you get?" I'd always wondered what motivated their choices in alt modes.

"Well, I want something about the right size, of course. I can't transform into something that has too much or too little mass. I also have my own tastes, so I would want to be something that fits me… But when it comes down to it, I need something effective and efficient."

I nodded. This explained why not every Cybertronian became a jet or a tank, but it was unfortunate that the autobots were so outgunned so often.

"When you get your car mode, you'll look completely different… I can understand the color stuff, but I remember Hotrod looked more filled out after he got his alt. Why is that?"

"Well," Prowl began patiently, "a lot of that filled out shape is actually a kind of force field that behaves like clay. Once we settle in a mode its as hard as real metal and it is sometimes described as a semi-permanent shell. We can take it off if we choose, but if we die or a piece is removed, the shape will remain. Hotrod, for example, is still the same underneath, but his field is as real as his frame. His nervous network feels through it as well as his body."

I could hear the whine of cars whipping past through the trees, but I couldn't see their lights yet. I was curious to see what kind of car he would pick out. I couldn't imagine anything good out on a highway in the middle of nowhere at this time of night.

The trees thinned as we approached the strip, and the hum of cars and semis driving past was pretty consistent. It was early morning, and traffic was thicker than I'd expected. I couldn't see anything, and it didn't help when Prowl set me down. The trees blocked the view, but I assumed he could make out what he needed. We waited for a while, ten or fifteen minutes, when suddenly he leaned forward excitedly. I watched his head following something, and then a white flash ran down his frame.

He was black and white now, a pointed red fender in the shape of a V on his forehead. He had definitely filled out, from the skinny black thing to a 'muscular' piece of work. He looked down at me, a smile on his metal face, and I smiled back. "What did you pick?"

"I'll show you," he said, still smiling, and began to move closer to the highway . When I began to think there was no way he could avoid notice, his body made the familiar sound of transformation.

In no time, Prowl sat before me in the grass, gleaming on four wheels. My jaw hung open, and I approached him slowly. He was a Dodge Charger, but the irony was in the giant POLICE on his side doors. His lights flashed experimentally and his sirens chirped a couple of times, startling me.

"Like it?" He sounded pleased with himself. "I think it fits me just fine."

"Yeah, Prowl, it's… it's nice." I would let him find out about Barricade's alt mode on his own.

His driver side door popped open, and I slid onto the leather seats with a faint smile. He was pretty nice on the inside. I'd noticed the transformers didn't really smell like car, and Prowl was no exception. There was no real smell at all, just the air from outside. I clicked the seat belt, and Prowl crawled to the side of the highway. We sat and watched traffic for a few minutes, and he seemed to get a kick out of watching people hit the brakes as they read his new paint job. Finally, he crawled onto the highway, hitting the gas as soon as his wheels had pavement. He didn't have Barricade's explosive power, but he sure as hell had a kick.