Author's Notes: Another fun series based on mini rules or references made in the main fic "If an Autobot Do Not Do the Following, part 1 and 2." The rules in this chapter are in random order for fun. Rules 1 -54 will be in the following chapters. Moreover, you never know who will appear in a guest cameo or one shot. This is set in the ROTF universe with G1 characters mixed in. May include other universes as surprises. First up – human femmes versus alien mechs with good intentions.

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55. You worry more about the Autobots coming to visit than strangers, random burglaries or teenage arsonists in your area. Human troublemakers you can deal with, Transformers are a whole category of unexpected problems by themselves.

"No Hoist, your engineering skills are not needed. It is a friendly visit. Guard the farm while the humans are gone and practice knowing the area via scout drills," Trailbreaker stated. His square black frame tilted up towards the taller mech. The other Autobots moved around them in the main hangar, talking among themselves in their native Cybertronian. Early morning, the NEST soldiers were completing their exercise routines, only two human technicians on the rolling platform. They ignored the Transformers, intent on their monitoring of human frequencies.

"But I have the free time. Ratchet is our chief surgeon and he is taking two days off to visit with Sam and Carly. I've completed all the routine check-ups and maintenance on the rest of our team, with no exceptions!" He stated, his blue optics bright. If Ratchet was their surgical medic, he was their family doctor, cheerful and willing to help. His chassis shape mirrored Trailbreaker with his green armor to contrast against the other's black armor.

"Maybe you can help Grapple design a solar collector?"

"We did that yesterday. Do the Lennox's need anything? I know they maintain their farmhouse. What about a new barn? Shed? Even a fence?" the taller mech practically begged, his British accent nearly hidden under the intensity of his vocal emotions.

"Not even a fence repair. I'm sorry old friend," he laid an encouraging hand on his armor plating.

"But I have time free, materials by the warehouses full and I know I could make the Lennox farm better," he tried one last time. Outside, Silverbolt's cargo hold ramp touched the runway, a silent signal for the Autobots to load. The large Transformer waited in his jet mode, ready to transport the mechs off base.

"Humans take time to approve plans and soon as the EPA and wetlands issue is settled we can begin construction on the new base at Mt St Hilary. Until then be patient."

"I have no patients either. Every mech and femme is fully functional and I am bored now. I cannot process waiting months to build. My designs protect the land, why must we wait for them to verify it?" Hoist grumbled, his entire chassis sagging in defeat.

"I promise to call if we need your expertise." Transforming, Trailbreaker's parts rotated and compacted into Toyota 4WD Hi-Lux camper truck. Engine revving, he rolled out into the sunlight and across the tarmac.

LENNOX FARM

NINE HOURS LATER

"Sarah is going to kill me! She just mopped and waxed it last week!" Major Will Lennox moaned, holding onto his hair tightly with one fist. He closed his eyes, his muddy boots and fatigues bearing traces of hay and dirt from the barn. "She left early with Annabelle when I remembered leaving my sunglasses the barn. Then I saw the hay blocked the spare door and one thing lead to another." He opened his eyes, dropping them to the tile floor and the mud slopped from the door across the entire kitchen to the refrigerator back to the door. His wristwatch beeped, reminding him of the time. "Slag it, I have to leave quick or I'll be late to the wedding and I still have to grab my tux from upstairs. Then finish packing for the airlines. Where's an assistant when you need one?"

"Can we assist?" a deep vocal sounded behind him. He turned, the two mechs kneeling outside the open kitchen door, their blue optics spinning normally.

"Can you clean this up?" the human pointed down.

"I believe so," Trailbreaker guessed, looking over at Hound. When he looked back, Will was gone. Systems recorded his thermal signature pounding up the stair before dashing into the master bedroom. Only his muddy boots remained on the tile in front of them.

"Thanks buddy," Hound grinned. "You just volunteered us for janitor duty."

"What's a janitor?"

"Search it on the human's internet later. For now, we have to help to keep his femme from finding out," Hound said.

"Humans are so violent. Offlining over earth remnants on the walking surface," Trailbreaker commented.

"Sarah wouldn't. His words exaggerate her level of anger. Another human custom, at least between spark mates," the green armored scout reassured.

"What do we use? The surface appears molecularly weak and easily damaged," he noted.

"Let's ask Wheeljack. He helps the humans on base."

LENNOX FARM

TWO HOURS LATER

"Not a bad job if I say so myself, cleaning that entire floor and enough left for us to use," Trailbreaker stated, optics intent on his leg armor. "I like this stuff. Removed that old blaster char mark right off." He vented deeply, the expelling air shaking the nearby flowerbed without damaging the plants. Both mechs sat on the ground outside, assorted cleaning gear all around their feet pads.

"Cleaned my shoulder rifle too. Why don't we use this more often?" Hound wondered when their comm frequency buzzed.

::Did it work?:: Wheeljack

::Perfectly. We mixed it exactly as you specified using ingredients found here on the property. Added a drop of energon and coolant to complete it then charged the whole mix with an energy burst:: Trailbreaker answered.

::You did remember to dilute it fully?:: Wheeljack

::Dilute it?:: Hound

::With water as in make it less concentrated. I gave you the amount for oh, cleaning the hull of a galactic size ship. Like the Ark. Otherwise, it evaporates at the molecular level more than cleans. I'm sure I mentioned that part. Maybe not. Oops! Have to go. Experiment bubbling over!:: Wheeljack

The mechs looked at each other in startlement then leaned down to peer in through the kitchen window. Bright blue optics narrowed.

"Uh Hound?"

"Yah Trailbreaker?"

"Was that big dark hole there before?'

"Nope."

"Okay, memory core is working then."

It took nearly a week of construction work to ready the new space. Hoist brought half the Autobots on the planet to assist and install the outer layers and reinforcements. Prowl and Optimus signed off on the plans using the term "practice construction" to hide their activities. Ironhide made sure plans for Annabelle's play area was included and Bumblebee added guest rooms should Sam, Carly and ten of their friends visit. Red Alert worried over humans discovering their presence and monitored the farm boundaries. Ratchet added a triage area and upped the ventilation requirements to guarantee clean air flowing for their human friends. The other Autobots enjoyed building and working by themselves instead of fighting or endless drills with human soldiers. Then the Lennox family returned from visiting their relatives. Ironhide drove them from the airport then left, muttering about checking sensors while they settled in from their trip.

Sarah noticed the kitchen floor immediately."What happened?" Her blue eyes swept its entire surface before she turned, her blond hair moving with the force of the spin. Both hands rested on her hips as she confronted the kneeling Transformers.

"We removed the mud and dirt ma'am," Trailbreaker vocalized first.

"Wanted to try a new cleaner," Hound added.

"The floor looks brand new! It is amazing," she smiled.

"Autobot ingenuity ma'am," Hound explained.

"And?" She confronted them again, arms crossed and foot tapping.

"And we gave it a wax to seal in the shine?" Hound quipped.

"There is always more with Transformers around," Sarah said. "You might as well tell me now. The more of your behavior I accept, the less I will have to forgive later."

"We added a safety basement."

"We have a storm cellar, over there," Sarah pointed towards the back yard area.

"Why go outside to reach safety? We added a safe area under the house you can reach quickly and without worrying about flying debris," the green armored scout said.

"We rarely have tornadoes here but under the house is more convenient," she acknowledged.

"Rarely can get you offlined. With our construction, the entire house can be destroyed and the area below remain intact. We even deepened it to allow Ironhide or any other assigned guardian to fit. The elevator holds all of you quite safely and is accessible to you by the spare closet. The ramp down is concealed under the hedge for us Autobots to use," Trailbreaker opened his palm, the partial hologram showing the detailing.

"Elevator? Ramp down ? How deep is this safety area?"

"Standard ma'am," Hound quipped.

"Standard being?"

:The distance concentrated cleaner eats through bedrock. We're lucky it did not collapse the whole farm once the lower layers spread outward. You tell her. You are faster and I need the head start if this goes badly:: Trailbreaker commented over their internal comm.

"Using human measurements? About twenty stories down and thirty thousand square feet spread over three levels. Ceilings are standard forty feet tall on each floor. Human areas on the sides built for your dimensions and privacy," the other mech explained. They waited, systems on alert when she nodded, smiling.

"If you will excuse me, I need to find Will."

"Everything okay honey?" Her husband asked, recognizing Sarah's determined stride as she crossed the living room. He waited on the bottom of the stairs, hearing Annabelle's squeal from above as she opened the welcome back presents left on her bed.

"Yes," Sarah gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before snuggling against him.

"You sure?" He stroked a comforting hand down her long hair, reading contentment in her expression.

"Uh huh. Feel like going furniture shopping? The natural wood store, garage sales and the local flea market?" She asked.

"Furniture? We use the spare bedroom now for storage more than guests do. Even the barn hayloft has stored pieces. I know you want to display your father's furniture but we have nowhere to put it."

"I don't think storage is a problem anymore."

54. You find yourself explaining everyday human activities that suddenly seem odd when seen through alien optics. Included – yard work, gardening and cooking on the BBQ grill.

"That why you destroyed Sam's yard?" Ironhide smirked, his blue optics focusing on the taller mech before returning to watching Sideswipe trying to teach Skids and Mudflap sword drills behind them. Hound and Bumblebee watched from the sides, practicing their observation skills. The scouts occasionally winced or cheered as the fighters moved around.

"I did not destroy the entire yard," Optimus countered, his regal baritone exact and dignified. The main hangar roof echoed sounds of swords clashing followed by Cybertronian swearing. He refrained from turning around, knowing if anything serious happened, Ratchet would fix it, adding his own swearing. The medic's optics spun as he medically scanned then widened to normal, his yellow green chassis standing next to Ironhide's all black armor build. The three femmes, Moonracer, Elita and Silverblade waited for their sword lessons.

"Uh huh, you flattened Judy's flowers under Sam's window and stepped directly on their fountain," Ratchet reminded, lip plates forming a frown as Skids tumbled into Mudflap with the swords narrowly missing vital parts.

"Stepped on?" Elita echoed, her blue optics narrowing. "Even a sparkling scans before they step and your systems are military grade, battle ready, sophisticated beyond the levels of most regular troops and you stepped on it?"

"He did. His explanation to the boy was "my bad," Ratchet added.

"Bad? Optimus," she giggled, her pink and white armor shaking with her mirth.

"The flowers were unintentional. The use of 'my bad' was a human expression from their internet to show my understanding of their race. And I admit," he rubbed his blue helm antenna with his armored hand. "The fountain provided a suitable demonstration of our power to encourage the boy to hurry without making an overt threat."

"I'm sure humans lay awake at night, shaking with fear for their yard fountains from our Cybertronian forces," Ratchet said.

"Or their greenhouses. You and those power lines," Ironhide teased, poking the medic in his chest plates with a black armored finger.

"Not my fault they use primitive electrical current and string the connector lines like trip wires to catch mechs newly arrived to earth," Ratchet vented deeply, turning partly away from the weapons specialist as his faceplates heated. The giggling of the femmes only made his embarrassment worse.

"I replaced the fountain," Optimus reassured his spark mate.

"Good," she said.

::It made excellent cover when the Allspark kitchen devices attacked:: Bumblebee sent.

"We promised not to mention that event. Again, I replaced the fountain," Optimus said. "Next time I'll have Wheeljack design it to survive anything."

Hound grinned. "Let's hope there's not a next time Prime. But I have another thing to not mention to the Witwicky's. Do not quiz them over their use of dead or offlined items."

"Their food?" Ratchet guessed, rolling his optics. His dislike of human eating was well known.

"No, yard ornamentation. Two months ago Bumblebee and I were on a scout mission and stopped by to visit Sam," Hound recalled.

In the backyard of the Witwicky residence, Judy patted the wood bark around the edge of the petunias and straightened, arching her back as she remained kneeling. Her silver hair hid beneath a bandana, the drop of sweat absorbing into its edge. The itch feeling caused her to wipe at her forehead anyway, a satisfied sigh emitting from her lips at the flowerbed before her. "Ron! Ron! You unpack the next set of flowers yet?"

From the garage, the general sound of his voice echoed back. "Almost ready," he called.

"Ready when the next commercial break comes on. I swear, men are all alike," she mumbled, gloved hands expertly grabbing a small plastic square, upending it and freeing the flower start. "Sam's spare TV goes to the garage to amuse an alien in the night hours and Ron keeps it there, watching sports instead of yard work. I swept the porch, made the lemonade and sat it with glasses on the patio table. What does he do? Watch sports." Her gloved hands smoothed dirt around the newly planted flower, before grabbing a handful of bark to cover and smooth the surface.

The roar of powerful car engines had her looking up towards the side alley. A green army jeep and yellow Camaro drove themselves forward, the holographic drivers disappearing once they cleared the street. The wood privacy fence blocked any potential neighbors or unwanted lookers.

"Good morning ma'am. My name is Hound," the green army jeep greeted.

"Roll over any of those flowers and you'll be in the doghouse Hound," Judy warned through a small smile.

"Understood," he acknowledged. Bumblebee warbled a greeting before idling his engine, both staying on the gravel driveway.

"Sam will return in an hour. Cause no trouble and you can stay until then," she said, upending the last flower start. They watched her spread the bark before switching to internal comms.

::What is that?:: Hound

:: It is forest skin. The humans cut down the trees, stripping their outer layers to make bark:: Bumblebee

Hound searched the internet, pulling information but not truly understanding. "Miss Witwicky," he began.

"Mrs. Witwicky actually," she corrected, removing her gloves and slowly climbing to her feet, shaking her legs to restore the circulation. The bright green kneepads showed on her khaki work pants, both having splinters of wood bark.

"Is that not a waste of wood instead of making it into usable items? It must be replaced yearly and is a resource more suited to cleaning your atmosphere," Hound nosed ahead, tapping the waiting bark dust pile with the edge of his front bumper.

"It is useful," she wiped at more sweat.

"Covering the growing surface with dead tree covering is useful, hmm odd world indeed," he murmured.

"Bark dust looks nice around my flowers and parts of the yard not covered in grass," she countered. Bumblebee rolled back, recognizing the darkening color of her face meant anger.

"Out of curiosity, what do you put on graveyards?" Hound asked.

The neighbors barely blinked when a yellow Camaro and green army jeep sped away from the Witwicky house, a screaming Judy Witwicky threatening to bash their hoods in with her yard rake.

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