Updated 4/18/13. Did some cleanup for this story, as well as weaving in a few little things that tie it into my Secondhand Sparks series. That was my original intention, only it got away from me for a while.

Took a few liberties and tweaked the movie canon. Most of the models are the same, but they look much more like themselves, just updated for the 21st century. In my head-canon, they weren't able to reconfigure their paint jobs til later on, having to do a rush job on the duplication process. Picture something like a G1/Prime/07 mashup. Hell, picture them however you want. And don't look at me like that; you know you wanted to do the same thing.

In which there are snakes and first meetings

She is three and fearless and inquisitive. She is young enough to not know any better than to wander off alone - it is her home, after all, and the great wide world is waiting just outside her back door. Her mommy is cleaning up in the den, her daddy...her daddy is gone again, along with his big red truck, the one he sets Mommy and her in the back of and takes them up and down the road, the wind in their hair, laughter flying out behind them.

There is a garden in the back, with a little gate and a little white fence. Tomatoes and basil and cucumbers surround her; she giggles and sinks her baby teeth into one of the juicy red vegetables. There is a path that cuts down the middle of that garden, and branches out every few feet to wander off into the greenery. She takes the very last one leading off to the right, a good few dozen yards away from her house. She loses interest in the half-eaten tomato in her hand; dropping it, she fishes her arm into the sweet-smelling grass for some mint stalks to chew on -

And then there is a stinging sharp pain on the top of her delicate little hand, and a slithering hiss fills her ears. Blinking, she looks down, and there is the copperhead, wending it's way across the tops of her feet and into the vines behind her. A moment later, her shriek pierces the still summer air.

A clattering noise, sneakers pounding on dirt, and then her mommy is there with her, kneeling down to check on her – her face goes paper-white when she sees her baby's hand, and the quiver in her mommy's voice scares her more than the snake did.

After that things move too quickly for her to comprehend. Her mommy tells her sternly, don't move, baby, don't move your arm at all! And then she's gone and back, and she's on the phone, bending down to wrap a blanket around her baby's shoulders. She is then scooped up, and suddenly they are in the front yard and her mommy is muttering grown-up words under her breath. In the distance, she hears a wailing, like on TV – sirens.

Minutes stretch into countless hours, and her hand is throbbing and burning and as big as a baseball, but she still doesn't move it because mommy said not to. An ice pack appears as if out of nowhere, and is pressed painfully on her swollen hand. She almost flinches, but stops herself. Her daddy would want her to be brave.

And then a big red and white van is in their driveway, and she's being bundled into the back of it. Three or four people hover around her, one of them her mommy. Words are said: be still sweetie; how does your arm feel; you're going to feel a little pinch – they've stuck her with something, and she's afraid, but her mommy is right there with her, holding her other hand and stroking her little blond head. She is made to lay down on a funny-looking metal bed, and then they're on the road.

Before she knows it, they've stopped and are pulling her out of the van, still laying on the bed. Faces and words and a long white hallway pass by in a blur, and then she's being hoisted, transferred to another, bigger bed. There are wires and screens and beeping noises everywhere – but her mommy hasn't let go of her hand, and she knows not to be afraid now. Her daddy will be here soon, after all, and she wants him to know how brave she is.

Much later, after people have poked and prodded and done funny things to her snake bite, she falls asleep for what feels like a minute or two. She is woken by a warm, callused hand on her leg, and she opens her eyes to see her daddy's dark ones looking down on her. A smile creeps across his face, and the creases around his eyes crinkle. She grins back at him, and tells him that she wasn't afraid at all, and at that moment it's the truth.

Her mommy is in a chair in front of daddy, and behind the both of them, leaning against the wall nearest the door – a man. A soldier, like daddy. He wears black, like daddy, and has shiny dog tags looped around his neck. He sees her watching him, and one side of his mouth curls up a little. Her daddy turns around to see what she's looking at, and smiles again. He tells the soldier Thank You, and the man lifts his chin in acknowledgment. He turns his face back to hers, and he pushes himself off the wall to step up to her bed. His hand joins her daddy's on her opposite leg, and he squeezes her, just once.

"You're one tough kid, you know that?"

She looks up at him, wondering at the look in his eyes – fear, and relief, and rot-gutting guilt if I'd just been faster she wouldn't be here – and says, "I know. He's my daddy."

Her parents laugh, but she and the soldier are silent, watching each other. His big hands tighten once more on her leg, and she thinks that she likes the way one side of his mouth hikes up higher than the other when he smiles. It reminds her of something, but she doesn't know what – she's never seen him before, that she can remember.

Her daddy says his name is Aaron Hyde, Lieutenant, and they work together. He and her daddy had just entered Arizona when mommy called, and it was the Lieutenant that had turned what would have been a nine-hour drive into five. (Of course she doesn't realize that this is very improbable, and doesn't see mommy raise her brows in disbelief.)

She reaches out a little hand – the one not swathed in gauze – and he meets her halfway, eyes crinkling like daddy's do, and they shake hands properly. His massive paws engulf her dainty ones almost comically, and she feels her eyes widen. She hadn't realized how very big he is. He's taller than daddy! And older – there's a silver sheen to the cropped dark hair at his temples. But his face is a strong one, and his eyes – laser-bright blue – are sharp and attentive. His hands are warm on hers. Her mommy says something about letting her get some more sleep, and her daughter rolls her own blue eyes. Lieutenant Hyde's mouth pulls up at the corners again, and he ducks his head to wink at her out of her parent's line of sight. She bites her lip to hide a giggle, and decides that she likes him.

Then he turns to go, hands dropping away from her, and her parents move in closer, hovering, patting her face and shoulders lovingly. She sighs, but lets them have their moment. She watches the soldier reach the doorway, and just before he leaves, he glances back over his shoulder, and the fingers of one hand reach up to touch his forehead in a small salute. Then he's gone.

She smiles. It's always nice to make new friends.