Authors Note: Ok all, this is my first published story here on be gentle? A couple of things to cover...I'm not perfect, really, I'm not. I played with Transformers when i was a kid...my brothers and I loved them and to this day still fawn over all the original toys we still have up in our parent's attic. Things change over years and there have been many...many forms, shapes, and versions of our fave transformers. If i don't write something just right to anyone's standards, i apologize in advance...really this started as a pastime after i saw the movie and needed some distraction as it disappeared from theaters to hold myself over until it came out on DVD. This first chapter is mostly background...just because I'm introducing my OC and sort of pushing her into the plot.
I don't own Transformers, they belong to their awesome creators, and the writers for each distinctive branch of the stories...the only thing I own is my OC, Caelan. We're going to stick with a T rating for some mild cursing and perhaps an M rating later on..but for now, a happy T
---begin 1---
Optimus and the other autobots that had taken up temporary residence on planet Earth did not have long to wait before the government made themselves known to them. The former Sector 7, after apologizing to the Witwicky's and to the Autobots, had been disbanded for good...although some rumors flitted here and there concerning a secret revival of the not-so-secret organization. The rest of the summer passed quickly, Sam and Mikaela fell in and out and back in love many times over before deciding that a short break was in order. Mikaela was making good for her own, working in a shop in town as her father's parole hearing moved closer. Sam, on the other hand, had gotten accepted into a university clear across the United States...all the way in Virginia. The teens agreed upon finishing their high school careers that if fate would bring them together in the future...so be it. Once the shock of the battle and their new friends wore off, Sam couldn't bring himself to forget that Mikaela had gone from seriously thinking he was a new student to quickly falling head over heels for him.
"Are you alright, Sam?" the yellow camaro slid quietly up to the boy, who had just said goodbye to the girl that was on his thoughts. Sam half-turned towards his guardian and offered a half-grin.
"Yeah...I'm good 'Bee...nothing like saying goodbye to my parents and my ex all in the span of 2 hours" he said dryly. Bumblebee said nothing, only popped his driver's side door open, to which Sam responded by patting his hood and sliding behind the wheel. "C'mon 'Bee...Virginia awaits" and with that they were off. It was an odd caravan...led by a flame-ridden semi, a GMC topkick that held all of Sam's supplies, and a hummer search and rescue vehicle that delighted in blaring it's sirens everytime he observed Sam falling asleep. Sam spent most of the journey cursing the medic, who up until now he had considered the serious one. Turns out that Ratchet had a sense of humor after all.
--Washington D.C., sometime a couple days later--
25 years old and still a little iffy about taking the metro...even though the young woman that held her purse close to her and stepped off at Pentagon City station had ridden it almost a hundred times. Brushing loose strands of her hair behind her ear, Caelan O'Connor slid on her sunglasses as she rode the escalator up towards the street level. She had opted for simple dress pants, a pair of low boots, and a button down shirt with a half vest over it...something that a friend of hers from college had sent for her birthday...claiming that it was professional and Caelan needed something 'dressy'. She had been contacted over a month ago by the pentagon, although she had spent the first ten minutes of the conversation wondering if they had somehow dialed the wrong number. Caelan had graduated with her Master's Degree in Cultural Anthropology just shy of a year prior, her heart was in connecting with other cultures, understanding them and giving them a voice to combat the rash of TV shows, publicity, and intrusion that had befallen the world lately.
"Morning Miss O'Connor, coffee?" after the long process of actually getting into her workplace, it was music to the young woman's ears as the secretary up front greeted her.
"Thanks Jean...and please, for love of all holy, call me Caelan?" she repeated herself for what was likely the millionth time and even though the pleasant older woman nodded serenely, Caelan knew that tomorrow she would be greeted just the same. Heading down one of the halls of the five sided building, she sipped her coffee and stepped into an elevator, swiping her access card for the bottom basement level. Where her new office was located was stationed in the basement, in an area that covered two arms of the pentagon. It was here the the floor separating the two basement levels had been removed, allowing an expansive ceiling height fit for...well...autonomous robotic organisms. According to the Intel that she had been shown, Caelan was in for the ride of her life in the upcoming years. She had been introduced to the Autbots now on Earth through pictures, information, and even a short communication with their leader, one Optimus Prime. Musing slightly to herself, Caelan was certain that most Anthropology majors didn't get this chance of a lifetime all too often. She headed into her office, really a row of offices that lined one wall of the basement facility. Setting down her coffee, she sighed. Caelan had endured jokes from her coworkers about how a proper Englishwoman such as herself should be drinking tea. Seriously, was everyone just inherently stereotypical? Sure, she had grown up all over Europe, her accent was proof of that as well as the features that she had inherited from her mother. But Caelan had moved to the states shortly after the accident, and drinking tea had quickly been replaced by the sweet smell of a fresh pot of coffee.
"NBE's are in approach, Intel says they just arrived in the area and are en route now!" an annoyingly high pitched, excited voice broke into her thoughts and she turned, scowling at the man who was waltzing into her office as if he owned the place. Her frown deepened, she could only growl out his name.
"Simmons..."
--fin 1--