A/N: Alone is on hold until the muses come back from 'vacation'. Sorry all.

= in a police car on the far side of a rest stop, under the trees =

Prowl's POV

I got up slowly that orn, a foggy haze in my processor. I tried to stretch my peds, but I was in too confined an area. Why didn't I know that? I reached behind myself, trying to see if my doorwings were okay. My roaming hands could not find them. I started to panic, quickly unshuttering my optics, only to find it was too bright for them to handle. They closed again, automatically squeezing tighter than before. That didn't make any sense. I tried again to see, painfully keeping them open against the harsh sunlight. My vision adjusted slowly. I found myself in the backseat of a suspiciously familiar automobile. I cautiously stepped out of my cramped position and stretched. It was at this point I realized that I was no longer wholly black and white. My servos, from just above the center joint up to my shoulder, were black with a golden police badge just below the seam, but from there down... They looked to be a dark brown fleshy tone- Wait. Fleshy? The vehicle, similar to my police car alt mode, was the correct size for me to fit in. My doorwings were missing, with no phantom sensations, pains or no. Could it be-? No. I squashed that thought immediately. Completely illogical. Illogical? Why can I even think that then, without crashing? What if-? I ran an internal diagnostic, hoping against hope that everything would turn up alright. Why won't my diagnostics run? My battle computer did not chime in with its usual percentages. My mind felt so empty without it adding to my every thought. I unconsciously rubbed my chin. And it moved slightly under my motions. That cemented the thought in my mind. I was somehow human.

= in the back of a sleeper cab semi =

Prime's POV

I awoke on a very soft berth, plenty large enough to hold all of me. I heaved a sigh, putting my servos comfortably behind my helm. Another day of leading the Autobots, I thought, Possibly another day of Decepticon attacks. Hopefully not. I chuckled, finally onlining my optics. I stared up at a low ceiling, definitely not large enough to house my root mode, and definitely not Ark-orange. This ceiling was blue. A dark blue, reminding me of the inside of my alt mode. For some reason, the humans' parting statement worked it's way to the forefront of my mind. 'We're going home, just in case something goes wrong with Wheeljack's experiment.' My optics shuttered closed and open once, rapidly. I was confused. I turned my helm to look at my surroundings, surprised to find myself in a reasonable facsimile of a humans quarters. In this strange room I found myself in, there was also several pieces of equipment. One was large and silver, with a black bar down the left front. Another was very short and rested on a smallish piece of wood at approximately human eye level. A third was set to the other wall and consisted of a flat black top, several knobs, and a horizontal bar towards the top front. There was a lamp attached to the ceiling which softly illuminated the cabin. I recognized a pattern on the floor, lines attacking each other at every turn, the same as my alt mode. That made me think. I twisted my body off the berth. As I did so, I noticed a reflective piece set into the wall. I stood, my helm nearly touching the ceiling, and walked over to it. I walked as though I'd had a barrel of high grade last night. I needed to hold onto the berth to remain vertical. The mirror (I believe that's what it's called...) proved my guesses correct. I was fully human. What did you do now, Wheeljack? My upper armor (shirt?) was blue on top mixing with red flames at the bottom. From the waist down, the covering was loose, varying in color between a black-blue main and a bright silver-blue stripe down the front of each ped- no, leg. The dimensions were completely off for me. The torso was too long, the chest and shoulders too small, the waist too wide, and the legs too short. Despite the awkward way I held myself, I found my thoughts getting closer and closer to damn. And not 'Damn, I'm in a human form.' More like 'Damn, this human form is hot.' And then 'Damn it, stop thinking that.'

= In the back of a car, in the middle of the woods =

Jazz's POV

When I came out of recharge that morning, there was a warm weight on my lap. I didn't worry, I knew it was Blaster. I onlined my optics, reaching out to stroke his helm. I froze. Instead of Blaster's red horned helm, a bundle of fur caught my optics, and a humanoid face pressed against my chest. That didn't look like my chest, but I could feel the humanoid there so it had to be, right? My chest was fully white as far as I could see, with the exception of a row of black human glyphs spelling 'ROCK ON!' The curly haired red-head in my lap shifted, its eyes still closed, squeezing its arms around my body. My treacherous body! Heating up! At the touch of a human no less! His head turned up, exposing a glyph on its cheek. A Cybertronian glyph, to be exact. It read 'confidence'. I rubbed my own human thumb over the mark, and sighed resignedly. The same as Blaster's. The human form in my lap sighed contentedly, mumbling sleepily, "G' mornin' Jazzy." He spoke using Blaster's voice even. Of course... I bit my lower lip, wondering how to say this. He turned his head to me, rested his chin on my chest. I held the back of his head as he opened his eyes.

"Mornin' Blastah." He had beautiful, frightened, energon-blue eyes. He instantly let go of me, pressing against the seat -seat?- in an attempt to get up. "Its jus' me, Sparklet." I held him to my chest, looking him straight in his eyes, massaging the small of his back.

"Jazz?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we seriously in human forms, laying on each other, in the back of your alt form?"

"In the back of my-?" I look around seeing that we are in the back of a vehicle, and a faded red 'n' yellow boom box is sitting in the front passenger seat, "Um, yeah that jus' about sums it up." Blaster rubbed his face into my human chest, wrapping his arms around me once more.

"I don't know about you, but I kinda like this form. You're more cuddly."

"And you're more fuzzy." I teased, "What of it?" I rubbed the curly red hair affectionately, pleased by the resulting purr. He pressed closer to me and I gave up any thought of finding the others just yet.

A/N: More to come, as soon as I get 3 reviews. Hope you enjoyed.