Beast Wars Transferred: The Beginning

Beast Wars Transferred: The Beginning
By Emilou

Dear Diary,

In the past week, I have been totally rethinking my life. I somehow felt as if I needed to grown up a little now that I'm a Sophomore in High School. I spend most of my free time watching cartoons on TV when mom lets me, or I'm up in my room playing with my toys. I started feeling like a little child since some of my old friends moved away and I found a new group. My new friends all seem to be more mature than me even though I'm a year older than all of them. I thought about letting them come over for a sleep over, but when I imagined them seeing all of my toys and cartoon stuff I felt embarrassed. That was then I decided to get rid of some of my old things.

Most of them I gave to my younger brother and sister, my action figures to my brother and my cute animal toys to my sister. Of course I didn't give my favorites away. Those I can hide in the drawer. But it made me feel good about giving them something. They were really excited and I spent some time playing with them. I finally felt like an older teenager; I felt like all the fifteen years I have earned.

However, after all of my hard work changing my image, giving up my childhood and everything, was ruined when I went to Wal-Mart with my mom today. I just had to walk through the toy department. That cursed toy department. There I found an action figure of my favorite character in one of the shows I watch. I couldn't help it. He was the only one left on the shelf and his box was kind of torn and broken. His rat face seemed to look at me like, "Please save me before a nose-picker takes me."

My pockets must have been very inflammable because I had to get him. But he's just one toy. Just one. I can buy just one. I'm not going to start collecting Beast War toys like some Star Wars nerd. No, I'm going to end at that.

. . . . .

But I want more.

Dear Diary,

Today was my Birthday. It was okay. My friends all gave me nice presents. And I got three new Beast Wars toys. Yeah, I know I said I would quit. But Rattrap was so much fun I just had to get more. Mom and Dad gave me Transmetal Megatron, and Optimus Primal, and my little sister gave me Transmetal Waspinator (even though Waspinator doesn't get a Transmetal form in the cartoon). They're so cool. I can't wait to open them. Yes, I waited until I told you what happened.

But one thing that kind of bothered me was my Grandmother's present. She gave me a dumb night stand. The thing is really old, faded and scratched up. It looks like she found it in a garage sale or junk yard. I thought it would be cool to put stuff in it, since it has a drawer at the top. But it's locked, and it didn't even come with a key. What was my Grandmother thinking? Why does she send me useless crap? Well, at least I can put stuff on top of it, at least until one of the legs break off.

Emi tore open the packages and twisted off the restraints of the action figures with heightened excitement, humming to herself some nameless tune she made up. After that, she went over each part of the packages that had words, reading everything out loud. Only then did she allow herself to try transforming the mini plastic figures.
First she did Megatron, laughing and giggling at his purple T-rex form, and then about how retarded the figure looked in half-transformation. Then she opened Optimus Primal's box, taking time to play with his mace weapons before putting him in his robot form. She seemed to have forgot Waspinator as she planned out a mock battle between the two opposing leaders, changing her voice to try to fit the characters from the show.
It was only when Emi's mother told her to get ready for bed that she remembered the Waspinator toy that lay beside her forgotten. She picked it up and talked to it. "Wazzzzpinator wazzzz forgotten. Wazzzzpinator want attention too," she said to the toy in a buzzy voice. She chuckled to herself as she picked the three up. "I'll transform you after I get ready for bed."

A half hour later, she jumped on her bed with the robotic-like wasp.

"Can I transform one?" Chiera asked, jumping on Emi's bed knees first. "Let me transform one."

Even Emi tried to be a good sister sometimes, but this wasn't one of those times. She didn't like other people touching and playing with stuff that she valued. And for some reason, she felt very attached to her Beast Wars toys, even if she only had them for a few hours.

"No," she said flatly, and started moving Waspinator's parts without looking at the instructions. After a couple minutes of struggling with the toy, she hadn't been able to move a single part.

"What's the matter with this thing? Why doesn't anything budge?" She looked over the toy a few times, and then noticed a glittering coming from the bug's mouth. Her nimble fingers reached into the pinchers, and pulled out a small bronze key. "Wha?" Emi shouted in surprise wondering how such a strange thing came with her toy.

"What's that?" Chiera asked, reaching for it.

Emi's pulled her hand away. "I'm looking at it." She inspected it further. Was it her imagination, or did the key grow? She wondered if she was starting to get tired, but she could have sworn the key grew twice it's size.

"What's the key to? Is it to Grandma's present?" Chiera asked, crawling closer.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Emi snapped at her younger sister.

"I was, but the lights are on."

"You can still go to sleep. Now go."

The seven-year-old stomped to her bed and glared at her sister.

But Emi was too busy to notice. Chiera's words hit her. The key was the right size for the drawer. And it had the same bronze look as the lock did. Maybe it would work. Emi slid off her bed and sat by the night stand. To her amazement, the key fit. Suddenly her imagination went haywire. What if there was something in the drawer? What if it was something valuable? Or something magical? She opened the drawer with anticipation, and then her hopes dropped. All she found was the smell of old wood and dust. In disgust, she tried to close the drawer with a slam, but the old metal wouldn't allow it to move two inches without force. After a few times opening and closing it a few times, it became more moveable.

"I want those lights out in five minutes," a motherly voice shouted from some part of the house.

"Fine!" Emi shouted back, looking a little disgusted at her dictatored bedtime. She looked down at the Waspinator toy with longing, and then put him into the drawer. Next to it, she place a toy rat of the same make next to the bug, smiling happily. She felt that her transmetal rattrap had been looking very lonely on the top of her dresser the last few weeks. But now he had a friend.

She transformed Optimus Primal and Megatron back to their beast forms and put them on top of the night stand in fierce positions. Finally, before she turned out the lights, she locked the drawer with Waspinator and Rattrap inside. She didn't know why, nobody would steal them. But what was the point of having a locked on something if you don't use it.

The darkness had engulfed him. He didn't know what he was doing right before he woke up into the darkness, or where he was, but he had the distinct impression he was no longer in the right place. It was a much more dryer place, and by the echo from the sound of his breathing told him he was in a very small space, like a tiny cave. But it smelled of old wood and something else. Something synthetic. His metallic claws tested the surface to find the texture very smooth, and polished.

"Hello?" he tested the air softly, sniffing around for a familiar sent. "Is anyone there?"
He heard a gulp and some movement close by.

"Optimus? Cheetor?" he tested again hopefully.

His energon pump skipped a beat when he heard a high buzzing noise. Not good.

"Rattrap, maximize," he said softly. Nothing happened. "Rattrap, maximize," he said again, his voice starting to go higher. Still, his body didn't respond. Mentally, he checked his inner systems. They seemed to be all on-line and working. It was something else that didn't sit well with his diodes. His entire body just didn't seem to be right. It was like he was still himself, but not really. He had had this feeling before, right after the blast that almost killed Optimus Primal and transformed his body into a transmetal. It was strange. Did something like that happened again? But then why couldn't he get out of beast mode.

"Wazzpinator can't see. Where is Wazzpinator?" the mumbling voice of the bug Predacon reverberated off the walls. "Wazzpinator will blast hizz way out. Wazzpinator, terrorizz,"

Rattrap backed away from the sound of the Predicon until he hit resistance. If he couldn't transform, he was going to be as dead as a bot in a scrapper.

There was the sound of irritated buzzing. "Wazzpinator said 'terrorizz'. Why doezzn't Wazzpinator transform?" There was the sound of six legs clicking against wood, and then a large bang from metal hitting wood hard. "Ow," moaned the noisy Pred as he hit into the wood a few more times.

Coffin. For some reason, that word popped into Rattrap's mind. Was that where they were? Were they left there to die? What happened right before this? What was going on? Rattrap didn't know, but it sounded like he was in the same boat as his enemy. He decided to take a gamble. He must be crazy for even thinking about getting help from a Pred.

"Alright, you spazzdic insectoid. We're both trapped in here, so we should work together and. . ."

"Is that ratbot? What is Maxzzzimal doing here?" The wasp sounded frightened and angry at the same time.

"Hoh boy," Rattrap side. Of all the Predacons to get stuck with. . . "Oh. . jus. . .I don't know. Maybe I like to wander around blind in the dark."

There was a pause. "Ratbot haz weird tastezzz."

"Oy," Rattrap groaned. "Listen ya stupid Pred. I don' like bein' in here with you just as much as you like me. But it looks like we're goin' haveta deal with it for now, so we might as well work together. Ya got that?"

There was some buzzing, and Wazzpinator started mumbling to himself inaudibly. "Wazzpinator has nothing to lozze," he said in a resigned voice.

"Dido," Rattrap snapped, thinking that getting Waspinator's cooperation was a lot easier than he thought it would be. "So, do you know how we got in here?"

"Wazzpinator hazn't a clue."

"Okay. . .so. . um. . .let's try a figure out where here is then. I'm going to look in this direction. You go in that one."

"Okay."

Rattrap started sniffing around, trying to see if there was something else there other than wood. He started to follow the wall he ran into earlier and started following it. As he did, he thought, This place isn't natural. But what is it? Is it another weird device that the aliens left for us to find? And for what purpose? Just as he was contemplating the different negative ways that he could die from wood, something ran into him from behind.

"WHA?!"

"Get out of Wazzpinator's way!"

"I told you to go in that direction. Not this one."

"Wazzpinator can't see. What direction?"

Rattrap nerves were already frazzled enough by the scare of not seeing and being with a known enemy, that he didn't see any point in keeping his temper now. "THAT way, ya bug."

"Well, maybe if ratbot was nicer to Wazzpinator, Wazzpinator would go in that way."
Rattrap didn't waste any time then to unleash his artillery of insults and threats that would have sent the most war-hardened Decepticon plugging his audios in fear. Wazzpinator countered it by talking to himself, and described Rattrap's more detestable characteristics with much detail in his rambling way. The two of them were so engrossed in their hateful spat that they didn't noticed that their voices grew louder to that of shouting.

A loud thump that rattled the surface below them shut their mouths quickly, and Wazzpinator grapped the Maximal with four of his six legs for security. They heard some mumbling, and each grew hopeful that members of their own team was coming to rescue them. The ground underneath them started to move, and light flooded into the darkness as if a small sun just popped before them. It only took a moment for their optics to adjust to the light and they registered the head of some organic creature that dwarfed them by gigantic proportions. Simultaneously, the two of them shouted out of fear of the mountain sized creature, that they believed was going to eat them.

The creature, surprised by their reaction, screamed in a surprisingly high voice. Soon after the ground moved rapidly underneath them, there was a loud bang and they were plunged back into darkness.

"Oh my crap, oh my crap, oh my crap, oh my crap," Emilou chanted in a nervous voice as she paced in a circle by her bed. Only minutes before, she had heard some muffled voices which she had mistaken for her radio alarm clock. Routinely, she slapped the snooze button of the alarm so she could sleep for ten minutes more. But to her frustration, that didn't work. With fuzzy eyes, she tried to examine the clock in the dark, and saw it was only five in the morning, and there were still muffled voices coming from somewhere in her room. After turning on her bedroom lights, she learned that the noise was coming from her nightstand drawer. Wanting to solve this mystery to get back to bed, she turned on a lamp, and quickly turned the key. Immediately, the noise stopped. She opened the drawer slowly to see what had caused the strange noise, and was puzzled when she only found her two toys that she knew to be in there. Nothing strange.

Then the two toys shouted in fright.

Reacting to the surprising noise and the moving action figures, she had screamed herself and shut the door as if it held a portal to the river Styx. Now that had left her in a state of nervous energy where she tried to run through all the possibilities of why her toys were alive. She didn't understand the how and why, but she had no doubt that her action figures could move by themselves. Either that or she had still be half-asleep when she opened the drawer. Either way, she had to know.

As a girl that had lived with her nose in fantasy books since she could read, she was open to all illogical ideas, and the idea of her toys being alive wasn't all too strange to her. In fact she found it kind of exciting, much like in the Velveteen Rabbit or Toy Story. But the problem was whether the toys acted just like the characters they were modeled after, or if they were possessed by evil spirits. She was determined to open the drawer, but as a precaution she grabbed the nearest object that could be used as a weapon. A pen.

Kneeling next to the drawer, she prepared herself to open her destiny. As a secondary precaution, she put on her glasses that she rarely wore, since her face would be at the right level for eye-poking. Carefully, she pulled at the handle to slowly slide the drawer open. The front of the drawer was completely empty, and so were the spots where the toys had occupied. Emilou had to open the draw all the way open to see the two animal like figures cowering in the back. Rattrap had his back end against the wall, and Waspinator was trying to hide his face in a corner as much as he could.

Emilou and Rattrap starred at each other for a while, neither one moving or saying anything. It was the human that quickly spouted a question that surprised both of them.

"Are you evil?"

"Wha?" Rattrap was confused at his first contact with something so alien.

"Are you an evil toy? You know, possessed with a demonic spirit that will kill me in my sleep like some Chucky wanna-be. Or were you programed with combat software, and you have a sick desire that tells you to destroy everything in your path."

If Rattrap didn't know any better, it sounded as if this organic was describing Predicons to a T. Had the species of this creature ran into Predacons before, and that's why it was posed to attack him with that primitive weapon.

"No, no, no, NO," he shouted, holding up his rodent front paws in a sign of surrender and peace. "I'm from a planet called Cybertron. Me and my companions are called Maximals. We believe in. . .um. . .ya know, peace and all that stuff."

Emilou was relieved. It sounded like Rattrap. By some rare phenomenon the spark of this cartoon character had ben spirited to her action figure.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought that you were going to be like the dolls in those scary stories that my uncle used to tell me. Unless you're going to pretend to be a good toy, and then stab me my back when I'm not looking. Am I over thinking this?" she said almost to herself.

"Ya think? Look, couldn't you put down the weapon at least," Rattrap requested, smiling a little. But then he thought back at what the creatures had said. "Toy?"

Emilou looked at the pen, and then realized how threatening she must have looked. She laughed nervously and put it down. "Sorry. I guess I was more afraid of you guys than I should have been."

"What do you mean by 'toy'?" Rattrap asked again.

Emilou turned her eyes upward and tried to think of a way to put it delicately. "Um, well. . .ya see. It's like this. You are an action figure. . . that came to life."

"Huh?" The vocabulary was beyond Rattrap's comprehension.

"Here, let me show you," Emilou said, and she disappeared from the rat's view. When she reappeared, she held a large piece of cardboard with plastic still clinging to it. "See, you came in this. I bought you at Wal-mart. See, there's a picture of you. And on the back, there's your status and the instructions to transform you."

Rattrap's processor was on overdrive running through this fiction-like reality that he was living in. Or was it a dream? Could he have been sucked up into some sort of wormhole that stole him into a different universe where the people bought beings for fun.

"Of course, there wasn't anything on here that says about toy moving on it's own or batteries included," Emilou said as a joke. "Whoa, your endurance sucks. Are you getting all of this?"

"Slow down, kid. I'm not understanding this," Rattrap said, wishing that he had his robot hands so he could rub his forehead. He could feel pressure starting to build up behind his eyes. "Let's start at some point I can understand. Where are we?"

"You're in my bedroom," she said in a know-it-all voice as she pushed her glasses further up her bridge. "I put you in my nightstand drawer last night, and then when I woke up you were alive. To put it bluntly, the body you're in now, it should be like a statue."

Rattrap was stunned. Everything was going all wrong. Where was he really? Where were the other Maximals. "I. . .I had . . .There are other Maximals. They're names are Cheetor and Optimus Primal and Rinox and. . ."

"Oh, I have Optimus Primal up here," Emilou said, hoping that would relax the agitated Maximal. "Can I pick you up?"

Rattrap didn't say anything. He was a little weary at being "picked up" by this alien. However, if he wanted to refuse, he didn't get a chance to say. Before he could react, two large hands came at him and lifted him up. It was a strange sensation, to be lifted up into the air so quickly and being supported from below. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time. "Whoa."

Emilou chuckled. Not that she found his fear funny, but he sounded so much like the television show that she couldn't help but laugh. It was a like a fun dream of hers come true. But she didn't contemplate that for long, as she realized that the Maximal was heavier than the toy she put into the drawer.

"How did you get so heavy?" she asked the rat, who was too tense to answer. She examined the body of her action figure, and hypothesized that it was no longer made out of plastic. It, or rather he, was made out of a light metal, one that wasn't too heavy. The metal made him more sturdy, and she could feel some heat radiating from the body. It was kind of cool. But she didn't dwell on the physical change of her toy too long, and placed Rattrap on top of the nightstand next to the blue gorilla.

"Optimus!" Rattrap said gleefully. "Oh, am I glad to see you." He skittered to the toy with joy, feeling a sense of security rushing over him like warm air. But that feeling died quickly when his leader didn't respond or move. "Optimus?"

"I guess they didn't change over night," Emilou said, her face peering at the purple headed T-rex that Rattrap didn't see. When he did, he jumped behind Optimus Primal quickly, and peered around one of the short legs. "Hmmmm, I wonder if it has something to do with the drawer. Let's see." In a burst of spontaneousness, she picked up the Predacon leader and was going to put him in the drawer.

The sight of his leader must have been too much for him, for at that moment, Waspinator shot out of the drawer, his two pairs of wings beating rapidly. He rushed to the other side of the room, and zigzagged along the wall trying to look for an exit.

"Cool," Emilou said as she saw the black and green Predacon hover in a corner, acting just like a large wasp looking for it's nest. She could barely see the red wings fanning quicker than a hummingbird's.

"That ain't the word for it," Rattrap said, moving to the edge of the wooden pedestal he was on. "That's a Predacon, which isn't good."

"I know what he is," Emilou said, almost like a snap. "I know what you guys are. I've watched the show."

"Huh?"

"I'll explain later. But I should catch him before he wakes up my sister."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rattrap tried to warn the organic creature trying to explain the evil nature of Predacons, but she has walked out of hearing range. Either that or she was ignoring him, which he suspected to be more true. "This ain't gonna be pretty," he mumbled to himself.

However, he underestimated the human. Emilou, finding a shirt on the floor that either she or her sister forgot to put away, and threw it across the panicking insect. The cloth hovered in air for a while, and then dropped to the pink carpet. It sat there a while, every now and then it would flutter with a buzzing. Emilou picked it up, carefully suppressing the entity inside so not to hurt it, yet not yielding too much to let it out.

"Wazzzpinator's gonna be slagged," the wasp cried out in mournful despair. He twitched every now and then, but with the hands pressing all around him, there was nothing he could do.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he heard the voice of the creature say to him. Even though he didn't entirely believe the promise, the voice soothed him a little. He stopped struggling.

"Waspinator, I promise that I'm not going to hurt you," Emilou continued to speak to the Predacon in a voice she reserved for stray cats. "So there's nothing to be afraid of. If you promise not to fly away, I'll let you go. Will you fly away?"

There was a pause for a reply from the covered Waspinator. "Wazzpinator won't get slagged?"

"No, no slagging."

"Wazzpinator won't fly away."

Emilou, hesitating since she wondered how good that promise will be, slowly unwrapped the black and green wasp, and released her grip on it. To her relief, Waspinator stayed on her palms and didn't make any indication of flying away.

"Yay," she said happily to herself, feeling pride at taming the Predacon. She went back to her bed, and placed him on top of the nightstand.

Rattrap's rodent mouth was hanging open in surprise. Now he had seen everything.

"Okay, guys. Maybe I didn't explain everything clear enough. Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

Instead of trying to explain the phenomenon, Emilou first began with watching the show "Beast Wars" on TV, giving them some detailed summaries of a few episodes to prove that she was telling the truth. She then went on to explain what action figures were, showing them the Optimus and Megatron figures that were definitely made of plastic and not metal, and that they weren't the leaders of the two factions. She then went on telling them the exactly what happened before she went to bed and ending on finding the two of them moving in her nightstand drawer.

"So, what do you think?" Emilou asked tentatively, gritting her teeth to brace for whatever will come next.

"What do I think?" Rattrap asked, his voice cracking a little. "What do I think? I'm stuck in some sort of weird dimension where I'm the size of a lugnut. I'm who knows on what planet. . ."

"Earth."

". . .with no idea where the slag my team is. . ."

"They're on Earth too."

". . .or Cybertron. . ."

"I told you, you're from a TV show."

". . .with some crazy organic lifeform. . ."

"I'm human!"

". . .who is completely out of her mind."

"Hey! Hey, let's be civil here."

"And to top it off, I can't transform."

Emilou just held her forehead in her hand as if she had a headache. "Look, I know it's a little too much, but that's how it is. Accept it," she told him.

"Accept it! How am I suppose to accept it when it sounds so ludicrous?"

"What more do you want from me?" Emilou asked in frustration. "I can't change what's happened."

"Well. . .uh. . .what if you're lyin'?"

"How would you explain Waspinator? He's a transmetal now," Emilou pointed out.
Waspinator had stayed quiet all this time, either out of confusion or that he tuned everything out. But at the sound of his name, he looked up. "Waspinator transmetal?"

"Yeah, here let me show you," Emilou said, and jumped off her bed. She rummaged through some debris in her room and came up with a square mirror. She held it up to the insect, who stepped back it surprise. "That's you now, Waspinator. So pretty."

Waspinator moved closer, tilting his head to one side, and then the other. Then, using one of his flimsy legs, he tapped the surface to make sure it was real. Finally convinced of the integrity of the reflection, he studied himself with interest. He looked through golden eyes at his black body, green wings and red legs. It was definitely a different Waspinator. "Wazzpinator look good."

Emilou laughed at that, and then turned to Rattrap. "Well."

"Eh. . .ju. . .That doesn't prove anything," he said in frustration. "He could have changed just like I did."

Emilou thought. "I have a few Beast Wars episodes on tape. And some of the original Transformers, so that should be proof enough, although we can't watch them until morning. And what about your leader. I bet if we put him and Megatron into the drawer, they'll come to life too. And that should prove that. . ."

Suddenly, a noise that Emilou was all too familiar with came to her ears. It was soft and muffled, but out of adolescent necessity, she was able to pick it up quickly. She dropped the Megatron toy she held back down, and closed the nightstand drawer.

"You two, don't move and don't make a sound," she told them in a warning voice. With that, she turned off her small lamp, and flung the blankets of her bed over her head and curled up tightly. At the last second, she sat up and took her glasses off and placed them next to Optimus Primal.

Rattrap, confused at this sudden change of action in the large human, was about to ask a question. But he stopped when he heard the sound of footsteps outside the walls of the room. There was something coming. He stayed quiet.

Rattrap could hear it coming closer; the loud thrumming of it's footsteps vibrated through the wooden nightstand to his trembling rodent feet. He heard Waspinator gulp, but the two of them stayed still. The footsteps stopped and a crack of vertical light widened, and in the light there stood a shadowy figure much like Emilou. A bright light turned on.

"Emi, get up. Time to go to school. Chiera, hurry up or you'll miss the bus."

Emilou, rolled in bed so that her face pushed into her pillow. She moaned and pulled her blankets over her head just as she had every morning. Even though she was wide-eyed awake, she had to play the part for her to pass off her hoax. She wasn't one to skip school for selfish reasons, and she rarely lied to her mother about anything. So she rationalized that she had saved enough points for this one small sin.

Emilou moaned again, and curled up. Just as she did, she braced her lungs for the racking cough she could fake with conviction. It hurt to do it since she had to make it convincing. Her cough sounded deep and congestive as if mucus was mucking up her lungs. After a few breathfuls of fake coughing that left her gasping, she sniffed through her nose roughly, hoping it sounded like it was stuffy. Under the blanket, she rubbed her nose quickly until it burned, making the soft skin red.

"Are you okay? Did you catch a cold?"

"Huh?" Emilou mumbled through her nose, lifting her head a little as if she just barely woke up.

"Are you sick, Emilou?"

Emilou, keeping herself wrapped up in her blankets, lifted her head higher and answered, "I don't feel very good."

"You don't sound good."

Emilou felt a weight on her bed, and a hand slip over her forehead. The hand was cold, so she figured her mother would think she had a fever. She also hoped that her mother didn't notice her heart beating faster as she stared at the two metalic transformers on her nightstand. Even though they didn't change size or color, one studied look at Rattrap and Waspinator anyone would know that they weren't made out of plastic. She hoped that her mother didn't look too hard at the toys.

"Well, I'll go call in to your school and tell them that you'll be gone. You go back to sleep."

"Okay, mom," Emilou said in a fatigued and stuffy voice, and laid back down. When her mother was gone, she smiled and winked at Rattrap, telling him it'll be okay, but that they still need to be still. She waited, listening to the sounds of her little sister slowly getting up and dressing.

It took Chiera thirty minutes to get ready for the day, and just as she was leaving, she muttered a distinguished, "Faker," before turning out the light and closing the door.
With the light out, it was lighter than it was before. The sun was slowly starting to peak over the high horizon and warm the land. Emilou could see everything in her room easy enough. She sat up and spoke to her two guests.

"We still can't talk yet. We have to wait until my mom leaves for work. But after that, we'll be okay. It'll take about an hour, so just be careful. I'm going back to sleep," Emilou explained, but didn't let the two Beast Wars characters speak before she laid back down. Within a few minutes, the surprise of the night had worn off and sleep came to her.

Rattrap was familiar to sleep. He and the other maximals had often taken "catnaps" as Cheetor called them often to conserve energy. However, he wasn't very knowledgeable of carbon-based lifeform's need to sleep. Confused, he did as he was told. He and Waspinator waited in awkward silence. He spent his time looking out the window. He now understood that he was inside some sort of structure for the organics, and they were some distance away from the ground. The land wasn't like that of the jungle and forests that he and his comrades were exploring during the Beast Wars, but it was cleared and tilled so that it was ready for planting. There were fences, roads and other buildings. Within some of the fences, he saw large four-footed mammals that he had seen before, but didn't know the names of. From his sensors, he was able to guess that the creatures were bigger than Emilou by a large margin. Occasionally, he saw large vehicles that he recognized as the alter-forms of some of his ancestors, the Autobots. He had seen pictures of the antiques when he was still on Cybertron, and wasn't impressed. But from his place on the nightstand and how small he was, he had a new respect for the cars and trucks that puttered around on the pavement.

However, there wasn't anything he saw that disproved Emilou's story. In fact, it affirmed it. This was Earth, the Earth about the same age the Autobots woke from their millenniums long sleep. So he knew the who and where, but it was the how that puzzled him.

Rattrap could measure the time from how quickly the sun moved across the sky. At least he could if the window was facing East, but alas they were facing West. After an educated guess at how long he had been starring out the window, he looked to Emilou and waited, thinking that she would just pop right up as soon as an hour had passed like a well tuned eggtimer. However, Emilou didn't stir, her gentle breathing went on and on and on.

After all that had happened to him, Rattrap figured he was due for some answers, or at least something to break the quiet.

"PST, Emilou. An hour's up," he reported. At first he was going to yell at her like he would anyone. But then he remembered she was bigger than a Decepticon seeker to him, and decided not to annoy her too much. "PSSSSSST. Emilou."

Emilou moaned, and slapped her alarmclock that was on the opposite side of her bed. She then rolled over onto her stomach, and snuggled up to her pillow.

Rattrap again had the urge to shout at her, but remembered the warning that Emilou gave him. What if the other human heard him? What would happen then? Was that other human a superior? Would he be in danger if that human found out he was there? After thinking it over, Rattrap came up with another tact.

Emilou woke up with a start after having a nightmare of hoards of mice and rats crawling all around her. When she woke up, she noticed only one thing. The rat that was on her face, hanging onto her long bangs.

"An hour's up, sister," Rattrap muttered in his annoyed voice.

Emilou didn't comprehend the words, or the fact that a rat was talking to her. With a high pitched scream, she grabbed Rattrap and threw him. She didn't seem that afraid as she watched the red and silver body sailing through the air, the whip-like tail flailing in a circle as the rodent shouted in fright. It wasn't until the body landed in a large pile of dirty laundry that Emilou was hit by reality, and remembered what she had done.

"I'm sorry," she cried out as she untangled the mechanical rat from a pair of shorts, trying to ignore the profanity that was being spouted at her. "Are you okay?"

"Whaddaya think?" Rattrap snapped at her. "It's a good thing I wasn't damaged. Now can ya put me down?"

"Okay, just chill," Emilou said nervously, meaning no disrespect for the maximal's short temper. She thought of her toys as something precious, and would never throw her Beast Wars action figures across the room like that; so she was surprise and relieved that Rattrap wasn't hurt. "I'm so sorry," she said again as she set the rat on the corner of her bed.

"Now that we're awake, can I please get some answers?" Rattrap requested in his sardonic and mocking voice.

"Wow, that sounds so like you," Emilou said in awe, and pointed at him with a smile. "And I'll be willing to answer anymore questions during breakfast. So I'm going to pick you up again, and take you down to the kitchen."

"Oh, boy. More carrying me around," Rattrap muttered. He didn't like the feeling of being so vulnerable and small, but allowed himself to be transported by the human's hands.

"You too, Waspinator. You want a ride, or are you going to follow?" Emilou asked, gesturing at the Predacon.

"Wazzpinator will follow," the insect answered, and beat his wings until he was hovering. He liked this human. She didn't want to slag him and she could throw the ratbot a very far distance which was amusing.

"Then we're off."

When Emilou walked out of the door, Rattrap realized the structure was complied of many small (if you could call them small) rooms, much like the maximal ship. They exited into a larger room, which impressed the rat even more. Of course when you're the size of a regular rodent, everything is impressive. But it wasn't until they started descending to the lower level of the shelter that Rattrap became speechless. The stairs were build along the wall of a large foyer. The immense space of the chamber was incredible. It reminded Rattrap of the great war halls that his ancestors, the Autobots, had used. He could guess that even the colossal Omega Supreme could fit in it, that is if Rattrap was his normal size. But if he was his original size, he would be a foot and some inches taller than Emilou, and then the room wouldn't be so heart stopping big.
After that, they went through one other room, until they came to the "kitchen." Emilou left Rattrap on a wooden platform she called a "table" although it could have been a cliff for him. He watched as she went through cupboards the size of old oak trees and hills for her breakfast.

Emilou came back with a bowl, spoon, a gallon of milk, and a box of Frosted Flakes. She poured her food, took a bite, and said, "So, what else do I have to answer?"

Rattrap felt weary. So much had happened, and there was so much unexplainable things. "Let's start at the beginning again," Rattrap said, thinking that he needed to process the information once more before it could be fully understood. But this time he was prepared with answers.

Emilou went back through her story, during which she was interrupted by Rattrap with an inquiry here and there. A few times, Waspinator quipped in with a comment or question, but mainly he kept quiet. He had conditioned himself not to question things. Answers usually meant getting slagged. It took two bowls of the sugary cereal before the questions stopped, and Rattrap learned that Emilou was just as confused as he was, and he accept the situation as it was. Now that panic had worn off, time for a plan. A plan, a plan. He needed a plan.

How could he think of a plan when he was stuck in this beast mode. He needed to be a robot once again. He voiced his frustration out loud, clenching his rodent paws into fists.
Emilou, head perched in her palm and elbow on the table, looked down at him with a look of observation. "Ya know, I think I can help ya there," she said, and without asking for permission, she picked him up.

"Whoa, whaddya doin'?" Rattrap shouted as he felt himself being turned upside down.
"Yeah, I think I can transform you. You've changed. I mean, the toy that used to be you changed. It's a little more complicated, but I can see where the seems are up close." With that, she started using her thin nimble fingers to start the process she learned from playing with her toy so much. It was easy, like trying to work out a puzzle. A twist there, a pull here, swivel this part up and push a part in there. Soon, she was so involved in the process, Emilou didn't seem to hear the small rat's protests.

"No, it's okay. I can just. . .whoa, stop that. Hey, leave that alone. Don't do that. That doesn't go there. Ow, no that's attached, thank you very much. Don't touch that. Hey, leggo. Stop, that's as far as that will go."

After a few minutes of this, Emilou stopped. As she had gone further into the transformation, the steps became more complicated and she couldn't remember how one step went. She looked down at Rattrap who had the lower half of the robot, but the upper body of the rat. "Shoot, I can't remember the rest."

"Lucky me," Rattrap muttered, trying to look at his deformed body. As much as he loved being prodded and pulled on by the human, he did not want to stay as he was. "Well, keep going. I'm not gonna stay like this." He glared at the Predacon as he heard the wasp giggling at his predicament.

"I gotta get the instructions," Emilou told him, and bolted from her chair to run upstairs.
And Rattrap found another thing he found unpleasant about being small. He didn't like being swung from Emilou's hand as she ran up the stairs. Even being inflicted by motion sickness, Rattrap was vaguely aware of Waspinator following back up into Emilou's room.

It didn't take long for Emilou to find the instructions to transforming Rattrap, and soon was involved in the procedure. Rattrap went back to gripping about being manhandled.
"There you go," Emilou said happily, placing the now robot form Rattrap on the carpet. "How was that?"

Rattrap padded himself down for an inspection, and shivered. "I feel so. . . violated." But despite the man handling he had been through, he was a robot again. And it felt good.

Emilou frowned. "Your welcome."

Waspinator, who was watching all of this with interest, flew forward. He held out his six wasp legs to Emilou and cried out, "Wazzpinator next!"

"Okay!"

"Wait, wait, wait a minute!" Rattrap shouted at the human, waving his arms as if they were flags. "He's a Pred. You can't do that." He almost added, "to me."

"Aw, he's not going to hurt anyone," Emilou said, waving Rattrap off. She grabbed hold of Waspinator and presented the insecticon to Rattrap. "Look at this face. Does this look like the face of a killer."

Waspinator tilted his head in one side and smiled the best he could with his strange mouth. But if he was trying to be cute, Rattrap wasn't buying it. And he then realized that he was the most unfortunate soul in the entire galaxy when fate dropped him into the lap of the stupidest human on the planet.

"Fine, do what you want. Doom us all, if that will make you happy," Rattrap muttered to himself. But Emilou didn't even hear and she toyed around with Waspinator. But Rattrap wasn't going to allow himself to be defenseless. He reached behind him to get his blastor out of subspace to protect himself, but his digits grasped nothing. "Hey!"

"What's up?" Emilou asked amid her concentration.

"My gun. It's gone."

"You didn't come with a gun," Emilou explained.

"What am I gonna fight with?" Rattrap whined.

Emilou, halfway through with Waspinator, looked to one side of her and then the other. She spotted something and picked it up. "You have this," Emilou told him happily, and placed in his hand his rat's tail, which was suppose to be a sword. However, the tail was more or less too crooked and limp to be any kind of weapon.

"Aw, man," Rattrap moaned, and slapped his head.

"And, your done," Emilou pronounced happily, placing the Predacon, newly transformed, on the bed next to Rattrap.

Waspinator looked at himself up and down, and "Ooooh"ed and "Ahhhh"ed at his new body.

"And I didn't hear any complaints out of him," Emilou told Rattrap snobbishly, and lifting her nose up a little.

"Well, excuse me."

"Oh, and here's your weapon." Emilou picked up a red, long barreled blaster and gave it to Waspinator. "Since they seem to be so important to you guys."

Rattrap was dumbfounded. "Why'd you give it to him, ya dumb broad!"

Emilou waved him off. "Eh, he can't hurt you with that," she said without concern in her voice.

Waspinator inspected his weapon, and decided to test the theory. He turned the barrel on Rattrap.

"Wahhhhhhh," Rattrap yelled and shielded himself with his arms.

Waspinator pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Waspinator pulled again, and again, and once more with his eyes looking down the gun. Still nothing. He watched Rattrap peek out of his cringing to look at him and then relaxed. Waspinator tossed the useless object away.

"See, I was right," Emilou gloated. "Considering that that gun was a plastic stick a few hours ago, I figured that it wasn't dangerous. Besides, the universe doesn't hate me that much. . .yet."

Rattrap sighed. "Okay, now that I'm back to being me, I can think now." He started pacing up and down as if in deep thought.

Emilou looked at Waspinator. Waspinator looked at Emilou.

"Waspinator want to be in Beast Mode."

"Okay," Emilou said and picked him up. This was fun.

"Ahhhh, I can't do this," Rattrap half-yelled in frustration, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm not the one to come up with this things. I always leave the big plans up to Rinox or the Boss Monkey to think of."

Emilou finished transforming Waspinator once more, and tossed him up in the air so he would fly away. "Well then, let's ask him."

"How?"

"Well duh. Through the same way you got here," she said, picking up the two figurines of the gorilla and T-rex. "And besides, it would be nice to see if my drawer theory is correct."

"Wait, you're putting in Megatron, too?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" Emilou asked, hesitating.

Sure he did. Rattrap had a lot of problems with that. But that day had been so surreal and topsy turvy, that he felt that he was wearing down trying to convince this human the errors of her ways. And besides, he was tired of being proven wrong. "Oh, never mind."
Emilou shrugged, and placed the two figures in the drawer. Her heart started to beat faster as she looked for the key to the lock, found it in her bed covers, and preceded to lock the drawer. Then she waited with her ear next to the wood for any sign of life. And waited. And waited.

"Anything?" Rattrap asked, walking across the bed until he was next to the nightstand.
Emilou shook her head. "I don't hear anything. Maybe it takes a while for whatever magic or phenomenon to work."

"How long were we in there before we came to life?" Rattrap asked, as he studied the nightstand.

"Um, like five hours. Or more. It was for a long time," Emilou told him the estimation. "So maybe they need to be in there a couple of hours."

Rattrap looked a little disappointed. This situation wouldn't be so stressful for him if he had some company. He gauged the distance from the bed to the nightstand, and jumped onto the wooden top.

A muffled voice came from the drawer.

Emilou's heart jumped excitedly. She twisted the key with her shaking fingers and slowly slid the drawer open. And there they were, the two toys having become animated. She could see them move, the way a living thing still moves when they are trying to stay still. However, neither one saw the enormous teenager looking at them.

"Megatron!"

"Primal!"

The purple T-Rex charged. The blue gorilla raised his massive arms to accept the challenge.

Emilou intercepted the fight. She swooped her hands down and picked up Optimus Primal.

Megatron's large head rammed into the side of the drawer.

"Hee hee, silly Megatron."

"What in the name of Primus?" the leader of the Maximals gasped, his optics taking in the sight.

Emilou for a while became speechless. It seemed to her to be a very awkward situation to pick up someone who doesn't know you, but you kind of know them. What do you say in this position?

"Yo," Emilou told the blue ape with a nod of her head. Oh yeah, very articulate, Emilou, she thought to herself.

Optimus Primal, who also thought that this was a very peculiar situation of being picked up by a giant and in a very casual way, said hello to him. "Um. . .hello," Optimus Primal said politely. "Thank you for your help."

"No prob," Emilou told him with a bob of her head. "I think you two know each other," she said and set Optimus Primal next to Rattrap. They looked at each other, one filled with curiosity and the other with relief.

"Rattrap, would you mind telling me what has happened?" Optimus Primal asked his companion while looking around the large room.

"Eh, it's a long story boss monkey," Rattrap sighed, and shrugged. "And I'm not even sure what the heck it going on."

"By the inferno!" A deep voice shouted from deep in the drawer. "What is that thing?"
Rattrap and Megatron backed up from the edge tentatively.

"I think he's referring to me," Emilou said, looking into the drawer with curiosity. Some part of her wanted to stick her finger in there and poke him, but she decided against it.
"We're going to have to do something about him," Optimus Primal growled, and looked at Rattrap.

"Don't look at me. This is her mess. She's the one who brought him," Rattrap tattled and pointed at the large human.

"Thanks for the support," Emilou muttered. "Don't worry. He's not going to do anything, aren't ya Megatron."

"Megatron terrorize," the T-Rex shouted. He, however, looked baffled when nothing happened. "Megatron terrorize. Megatron terrorize. What is wrong?"

"Hey, don't strain anything," Emilou told him. "Now let me get you out of there, and I'll explain everything. . .again." She reached her hands in to pick her up.

Megatron, his wrath already fueled, snapped at her with his large maw.

Emilou snatched her hands back, and glared at the lizard robot. She shook his finger at him. "Bad Megatron. Do you need a time out?"

"Time out?" Optimus Primal repeated confused.

At that time, Waspinator wanted a better look, and hovered over Emilou's head.
"Waspinator, there you are. Quickly, attack this monster and get me out of here," Megatron commanded, pointing with his tiny dinosaur forelegs.

"Okay, that's it mister," Emilou said angrily, and slammed the drawer closed. "And you're not coming out until you think about what you've done."

Optimus Primal looked up at the strange organic creature, and leaned down to Rattrap to whisper, "Is she an ally?"

"I wish I knew," Rattrap said with a slow shake of his head.

Roars and thundering came within the drawer, and the wood shook as they heard Megatron's rage ringing through the wood.

"Whew, Megatron soundz mad," Waspinator pointed out the obvious, and he buzzed closer to the drawer to listen better.

"But I do know she isn't an enemy," Rattrap said, with an awkward smile.

"That's just Prime," Optimus Primal said.

"Wow, I love that line," Emilou said, leaning her face forward. "I mean, I'm a big fan."

"Uh, have we met before," Optimus Primal looking up at her skeptically, but still being polite.

Emilou smiled nervously. "Not exactly. Ya see, it's part of that long story."

"Then I'd like to hear it," Optimus said, and folded his arms.

Emilou put her hands together like she was going to pray. "Can we wait until the trouble maker cools down. I don't want to say it twice more." Emilou noticed that Optimus Primal gave her a look so similar to the ones Rattrap kept giving her. She suddenly had a premonition that she would be getting much more of those in the future.

And wait they did, for five minutes as the temper tamper stormed on. The time was passed with Emilou cleaning up her room the best she could, Waspinator following and exploring the scene, and Rattrap explaining to Optimus Primal who and what Emilou was.

"Human?" Optimus Primal repeated, looking at Emilou up and down. "But why is she so big?"

"She's not big, we're just small," Rattrap told him.

"We shrunk?"

"That's the only explanation I can think of, because there's no getting around the fact, but we're on Earth."

"Earth. Oh, what kind of trouble did we land into now?" Optimus Primal moaned, rubbing his blue skin.

"That ain't the weird part, Optimus," Rattrap warned.

At that point, everyone noticed the silence emanating from the nightstand. The roars of an angry T-rex had gone out like a candle flame. Emilou walked over with Waspinator tailing her, and knelt down by the nightstand. She looked at the two Maximals before slowly opening the drawer cautiously.

Standing in the middle of the box stood Megatron, his large lizard head looking up much like an expectant animal.

Emilou looked down with unamusement. "Well."

Megatron cleared his throat. He seemed very nervous and unsure about what he was about to say. "I must apologize for my hasty actions, but you must understand my situation. At the sight of such a magnificent being as yourself, I was startled and reacted in a very uncivil and uncouth way. I am very ashamed of myself."

Rattrap made gagging noises.

"Yes, I am sure you have heard of many egregious lies that the Maximals have spouted about. . ."

"Okay, I accept the apology, but let's cut the crap. Do you want out or not?" Emilou interrupted.

"Yes," Megatron said.

Emilou put her hands down on the drawer bottom instead of trying to pick Megatron up. She waited until the toy sized Megatron walked onto her hands to lift him out. Like Rattrap, she noticed that both Megatron and Optimus Primal were heavier than the toys she stuck in the drawer. At this point she wondered if somehow the drawer either switched the toys for these living things, or just changed the bodies and brought them to life. It was something she would have to think about later, business called. She set Megatron on the nightstand top, and warned him.

"No fighting."

"I wouldn't think of it, yeeessss," Megatron promised.

Emilou watched him for a while, deciding it was her advantage that Megatron not know that she had undeniable knowledge of his deceitful maliciousness. Now that she had the leaders of good and evil at her attention, she started her story one more time. By this time, she was so practiced with her explanation, that everything sounded more or less logical and more sure of herself. The words came freely, and thanks to Rattrap's questions she was able to cover all her bases and described things better to the reanimated machines.

That still didn't change the shock of the situation.

"No, that can't be possible," Megatron shouted once Emilou stopped talking. "I am Megatron, leader of the Predacons. I've tricked the Cybertronian council dozens of time, escaped from the clutches of the Maximals and have a plan for the conquest of the universe, and you tell me that I've been transported into the body of some child's toy."

"Get used to it, Buzz Lightyear," Emilou told him with crossed arms.

Megatron became speechless.

Optimus Primal took the time to jump in. "So, you think that what brought us hear is your nightstand by some magical powers?" The question sounded skeptical.

"Hey, it obviously ain't some technical problem," Emilou told him.

Optimus Primal nodded in understanding. He also noticed Emilou was starting to sound snappish, a sign she was tired. From his observation, she was still a child. Plus she was organic and didn't have the energy reserves that machines had. And he didn't know how long she had been at this with Rattrap and Waspinator.

"Then I guess it must be the nightstand," Optimus Primal thought out loud. "Or. . .Emilou, you mentioned a key."

Emilou looked around, and then found the key still in the lock. "Yeah, this key. It was kind of weird where it came from."

"Weird? How?" Optimus Primal inquired.

"Well, my Grandmother gave me the nightstand for my birthday, but it didn't come with the key. I also got Waspinator for my birthday as well, and when I opened him from the package, the key was. . .in his mouth," Emilou said, her voice sounding unsure as if the whole thing had been a dream. "As I said, it was really weird."

Waspinator, after hearing his name, buzzed closer. "Waspinator, birthday present? Is Waspinator good birthday present?"

"Yeah, you were. . .although I was hoping for Silverbolt," Emilou mumbled the last bit under her breath. "Do you think it was actually the key that did it?"

Primal nodded unsurely. "Well, how you got the key is a little strange, so it seems to fit. Perhaps the key in itself is some sort of transporter. If that's the case, perhaps it can send us back."

"Hey, why didn't I think of that," Rattrap pipped up, moving forward. "That means we can go home."

"We don't know that Rattrap," Optimus Primal told him realistically. "How many times have you said that and it actually happened?"

"Hey, I'm suppose to be the pessimistic one," Rattrap joked, and looked up at Emilou. "We can at least try it out."

"I agree with the Maximal scum," Megatron added, dropping any form of politeness since Emilou's explanation. He was strictly business now. "There is no harm in trying. The worst that could happen is that we would still be stuck here, yes."

"You guys want to go now?" Emilou asked in her softest voice. "But I only got to talk to you for a few hours." A mild depression filled her chest.

Rattrap heard the sorrow in the girl's voice and was surprised. They had only been there a short time. Did their small visit impact her that much? She did know a lot about them already, so their encounter was something to the sort of meeting a hero that you've only heard about. When Rattrap thought of it that way, he felt a little sorry that he wasn't a little nicer, that he didn't try to let the kid do something other than answer his never-ending questions.

"Yes, we have to go. We don't belong here," Optimus said extending his ape hand. "Thank you for all your help."

Emilou took the small hand with two fingers and shook it. "Well then, everyone in." She opened the drawer slowly, and watched as Waspinator flew in and Megatron followed with a small jump. Optimus didn't follow until he looked to Rattrap.

"Eh, go ahead. I'll catch up," Rattrap told the blue ape with a wave of his arm.

Optimus Primal had some idea what was going through his underling's mind, but he really didn't want to go ahead with only two Predacons as company. But he remembered the way Emilou could easily snatch him up if there was danger, and jumped in.

"Hey, kid. Uh. . .thanks for. . .uh. . .ya know, everything ya did," Rattrap told the girl in an embarrassed way. "You're actually a pretty good kid."

"Thanks," Emilou said with a small smile. "Good luck on the war. Hope you win."

Rattrap smiled his rattish smile. "Hey, thanks. I hope we do too." With that, Rattrap hopped down.

"I hope you don't," Megatron muttered once the rat joined them.

Rattrap glared at the malevolent dinosaur.

"Ready everyone?" Emilou asked, her hand on the drawer.

They all answered more or less, some more enthusiastic than others. Waspinator waved at her and she waved back.

"Here goes," she told them, and pushed the drawer back in it's place. With a quick breath, she turned the brass key in the clock, and held her breath. She waited, her ears at attention to catch any noise. There was nothing. Should she wait to see if it worked? She wondered. She sat there for a few minutes, her muscles tense. After she watched the clock tick by ten minutes, she turned the key again. Slowly she opened the drawer. Peeking inside, she noticed nothing moved. She moaned.

Waspinator's wings twitched.

"Waspinator?"

Megatron's head shot up. "Oh for Primus's sake."

"It didn't work?"

"Did you turn the key?"

"Yes, I turned the key. I left you in there for ten minutes."

"Try it again, human."

"That's Miss human to you, Barney."

"What?"

"Okay, here we go."

She did the same thing, only this time she took the key out of the lock. But she didn't have to wait to see if it worked, because within the wood she could hear the reverberations of an argument ensuing between Rattrap and Megatron. The insults were inaudible, but the voices were recognizable. She opened the drawer again.

"Try it again."

"It won't work," Emilou told Megatron. "If it won't work the first time, it's not gonna the second time."

"I said try it again."

"You try it."

Megatron growled. With a power that Emilou hadn't seen in any of her toys brought to life, Megatron lept onto the thin board that made up the front of the drawer. Optimus Primal and Rattrap sprang into action to stop the thundering Predacon, but they wouldn't reach him in time. With a quick snap of his jaws, Megatron bit Emilou's hand that had the key in it.

Emilou, startled, screamed as the jaws latched onto her fingers. She dropped the key and slapped the mini T-rex, who let go as the pain hit him and he flew to the ground.

"Are you okay?" Rattrap asked worriedly as he tried climbing up on the drawer lid. Optimus Primal, who was in a more limber body, easily hefted himself up.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Emilou said as she observed her hand. "Just a few punctures. Matches my kitty scratches," she said in a shaky voice, and tried to laugh as she show them her hands. There was hardly any blood. "Good thing you guys are toy sized."

Megatron, shocked by the blow, was slowly getting up. He was growling in a dizzy sort of way.

However, Emilou wasn't going to allow him to attack again. With nimble fingers, she pinched the lizard robot's tail between two fingers and lifted him in the air where he couldn't do any damage.

Megatron roared with a trembling roar, his tiny forelegs waving uselessly in the air.

"I think you need another time out," Emilou said in a mock-motherly tone. She found a small blue basket nearby, spilled it's contents on the floor and quickly slipped the angry T-rex under it before setting some textbooks on top to prevent the Predicon leader from escaping.

"You seem. . .very calm in this kind of situation," Optimus Primal commented as he looked from Megatron to Emilou.

Emilou seemed a little embarassed. "Well, I guess it's because I used to you guys. I've been watching the show for over a year now, so I know you pretty well," she told them. "I guess that might sound a little weird."

"No, I know how you feel," Optimus Primal told her. "I've read the old stories about the great war. Especially about the Autobot leader, Optimus Prime. I feel like I know him and the Earth very well from the records of the Autobot and the humans."

"Awww, that's cute," Emilou said. "You're a fanboy."

Optimus Primal gave her a weird look.

The rat robot sidled up to his leader. "Uh, boss monkey. What do we do now? We can't get home, right?"

"It appears so," Primal told his conrade. "For now, at least. Perhaps the answer is right before us, and we'll be home before the sun sets. But we need to take into account that we may be stuck here for a long time."

"That's what I was afraid of," Rattrap moaned.

"Would that be so bad?" Emilou asked them, her face getting closer. "I promise to help anyway I can, but until then, is it so bad for you to relax a little. You guys have been fighting for a while now; you deserve a little vacation. Is it so bad that this could be your chance to just stop for a while?"

Optimus Primal rubbed his chin much like a gorilla in a zoo. "I guess not, if it weren't for the fact that Megatron is here," he said looking down at the still raging Predacon. "No, as long as he is here, we can't relax. This is a fight between Maximals and Predacons; we can't ask innocent outsiders to risk there lives."

"But your toys," Emilou told him slowly, her look saying that there was no way her life was in danger.

"Nevertheless, this is our fight. The battlefield is different, but the war does continue on. Megatron won't rest until he is offline or the victor. No, we can't relax. The Beast Wars has been transfered to here, and so we must fight."

Emilou broke away from the moving moment to a childish complaining note. "Oh, no you don't. There is no way I'm going to let you turn my room into a warzone," she told him, her face looking angry. "I have a hard enough time trying to keep it clean with a little sister living here."

Optimus Primal and Rattrap, war hardened veterans, cringed as the girl chewed them out.

"And if you think I'm just going to watch as you guys tear each other apart. Do you know how much each of you cost? I spent a week's worth of chore money on Rattrap alone. Do you want to earn that money for a replacement? I don't think so. You can just forget about that, mister. Not to mention, what do you think Megatron's going to be able to do? Did you forget that you can't transform, much less use any of your weapons. You're not even made out of real metal. If I stepped on you, you'd totally feel it. You're made out of whatever the crap this is drawer turned you into. And another thing. . ."

Rattrap, muttering under his breath, was able to whisper to Optimus Prime over Emilou's continual ranting, "I'm still trying to figure out if she's an ally or not."