Disclaimer - I don't own TF.

A/N - taken from the prompt generator I found on tf2007fun – Maggie/Frenzy/Damaged.

It had taken a lot of prodding, and little shock in just the right place, to get the damaged bot to change. Maggie supposed it was some sort of nerve impulse – like how if you shocked a human in just the right spot on the arm, their fingers would flex. She wasn't sure why she thought taking it would be a good idea, but she was just so damn intrigued by the creature – and wouldn't it be beneficial to learn every thing she could about its circuitry? And what better way to learn about its circuitry than to take it home and study it?

Glen had given her a very strange look as they had been escorted out of the dam, her jacket wrapped around the surprisingly heavy stereo. The guards themselves had not even bothered checking the pair of hackers as they left, perhaps due to a bit of shell shock. Or maybe they just didn't care about two nerds. Either way, the trip home had been entirely uneventful, with the exception of Glen prodding her balled up sweater and shooting her questioning looks. Eventually, he gave up, and by the time their plane had landed he seemed to have forgotten about it entirely, yawning a goodbye as he stumbled to his house.

As soon as she had made it to her apartment, Maggie had placed the boom box on her desk, taken a shower, and collapsed into bed without a second thought.

Weeks passed before she actually looked at the bot again. Another shock to the nerve circuit – done with a screwdriver and a bit of static – and the bot had simply unfolded and lain limp across her desk. It really was a fascinating creature; now that she had a chance to look at it closely and it was still. She had prodded along its exposed wires, slowly learning which controlled what, watching its tiny metal claws twitch. When she examined its damaged head, she had been shocked – and a little giddy – to find that the circuits there were still largely intact. It had even spasmed and made a soft whirring sound as she pulled out the remnants of the disk lodged there.

She set down the screwdriver and paused, staring into the dull blue optic. The poor thing seemed so...pathetic, with its limbs splayed awkwardly across her desk, its tiny head tilted at such an odd angle. She felt almost sorry for it. She gently ran a finger along the gash in its face, a small jolt of static from her finger making its body shudder again. She sat it up, propping it against her monitor. Its head lolled sadly to the side.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the little voice called reason told her that this could lead somewhere very dangerous, pointing out that the tiny bot had tried to kill her and would probably do so again should she manage to repair it.

She placed her sweater over it like a blanket, not really knowing why she had felt compelled to do so, and crawled into bed, staring at the ceiling for a very long time before falling asleep. The next morning, she bought two books – one was the last book in a series about teen wizards she found herself strangely – if not childishly – addicted to.

The other was on robotics.