Oops

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Fall was Judy Witwicky's favorite time of year. Given the events of the past few years, it hadn't been, but she was positive the current fall season would be a good one. She hoped. It all started heading south the Friday afternoon three years before, Columbus Day weekend. The damn day Ron took Sam to Bobby Bolivia's used car lot to buy his first vehicle. That day started it all, the day Bumblebee and the Autobots came into their lives. The next fall wasn't so eventful. More normal--the start of Sam's senior year. Busy, but not too weird, even with Bumblebee living in their garage. Then the autumn one year ago--Sam's start at Princeton was punctuated by more alien robot insanity.

Fast forward another year, and there was another damn giant alien robot living in the garage. This one's voice box was not broken. He could be an arrogant little punk, but they were stuck with him for for the foreseeable future. A car that wasn't a car hiding in their garage wasn't a big change, but it arrived shortly after the other addition to the household that came at the beginning of summer. Judy smiled at that thought. Her nephew, Spike, was living with her and Ron, had been since June, after his father's death.

Many changes, mostly good, however, the most recent development was not. Home alone, she'd decided to not go into work, taking a day off. She was her own boss, so she could. At least that's how she rationalized it. She was tired. Not just tired. Run down most days lately. I'm not getting any younger, Judy thought, sitting down on the couch, rubbing her back. That was new. An achy back, but that was probably just because of the work she'd been doing at the nursery the past few days, helping unload pumpkins and getting things ready for Halloween. And the cravings. . .thank heaven for candy in bulk. Especially black jelly beans. She hated the damn things, but lately, she was wanting them all the time.

Judy stood, walking into the kitchen, opened the cabinet, reaching for the bag of jelly beans, staring at the bag as she set it down on the counter. She took one of the candies, popped it into her mouth, remembering the last time she'd craved them. Could not live without them. Then it all snapped into place. Exhausted all the time, achy back, cravings for candy she absolutely hated but hadn't even been able to stand the smell of since she was pregnant with Sam almost 20 years before. Oh no.

-----

Spike frowned as he pulled up in front of the house. His aunt's car was still there. Given the time of day, she should've been at work, but it really didn't matter to him. Maybe he could get her to help him with his history homework he thought as he got out of the car.

"You're quiet."

"Shut up, Rodi," Spike hissed. "How many times. . ."

"Want me to tell you?" the car retorted.

"No," Spike said. "Stuff it until you're in the garage."

No response. Great. At least the jackass was listening for once. Spike smacked the car's roof with a thump, grabbed his messenger bag, hauling it toward the house, giving the car one last look as he went inside. He grinned at the '65 Mustang fastback which was really an Autobot, designation Rodimus Prime.

Once inside, Spike threw down his bag, making for the kitchen and a snack, nearly killing himself slipping on the tiled kitchen floor. He looked down, wondering what he'd slipped on. Black jelly beans spilled everywhere. Huh. That was weird. Aunt Judy usually ran a pretty tight ship when it came to keeping the kitchen and the house in general tidy. His room was the one exception, and so, apparently, was this. He shrugged, picked up the candy, dumping it in the trash.

Deciding his snack and homework could wait until he'd said hello to his aunt, Spike looked out back, figuring she was in the yard. Nope. Not there. Nor in the living room or anywhere downstairs. He went upstairs, walked down the hall, heard the faint sound of crying coming from the bathroom. Spike pushed open the door, finding his aunt sitting on the floor, back against the bathtub, hugging her knees.

Kneeling down beside her, Spike noticed she had something clutched in her hands.

"Hey, Aunt Judy, what's wrong?" he asked, taking her shoulders in his hands.

She sniffled, scrubbing at her face with her empty hand. "Nothing," Judy muttered.

"Has to be something if you're this upset," Spike said.

"Nothing's the matter," Judy said. "I'm fine, Spike. Just leave me be for a few minutes."

"Yeah, and my car isn't a talking alien from outer space," Spike said. "How long have you been in here like this?"

"Long enough," Judy said, finally meeting her nephew's gaze. "Don't you have homework?"

"Yeah, but it can wait," Spike said.

"Sweetie, I'm fine. Really," Judy said. "I just need some alone time right now."

"OK," Spike said, standing, reluctant to leave her alone when she was so upset. "Can I get you anything?"

"Can you hand me some tissues?" Judy asked. "And push the trash can over. I feel like I'm going to be sick. . ."

Spike handed her a a box of tissues off one of the shelves and picked up the trash can to give it to his aunt, only then noticing what was sitting on the edge of the sink. Three boxes. All pink and girly and just like the one that time last fall he'd seen his cousin Nia with when she thought she was pregnant and. . .Judy noticed Spike's deer-in-the-headlights look.

"Spike, don't tell your uncle, all right? Let's just keep this between us, for now," Judy said.

"So you're uh. . ." Spike managed.

"All three tests say positive, so that would be a yes," Judy said. "I even called the doctor for an appointment. It's Friday afternoon."

"Wow," Spike said. "This is good news, isn't it, I mean, I know you said before I came to live with you guys you were maybe thinking of having another kid, so this is. . ."

He trailed off, seeing her shake her head "no."

"Sweetie, I'm too old for this," Judy said. "Sammie's a college sophomore this year, and you'll be graduated from high school before you know it, and Ron. . .oh God, what will Ron say?"

Spike could only watch as his aunt burst into tears. He sat down beside her, put his arm around her.

-----

Friday afternoon. Spike figured there were plenty of things he could be doing at the moment, considering he was out of school because of a teacher's in-service. That meant only a half-day of school for him while his teachers got to spend the rest of their day doing whatever it was they did at such events. Instead of picking up a few hours at Bobby Bolivia's car dealership or his aunt's landscaping business, he was sitting on Rodimus' hood, waiting for his aunt to finish up at her doctor's appointment.

She was so nervous he'd offered to drive. Not that he minded, but thanks to Rodimus, Spike already knew the diagnosis for his aunt's condition was right. A quick, harmless scan by Rodimus the day before confirmed it, but neither had said anything to his aunt. His aunt Judy was indeed pregnant; she just needed to hear it from her doctor. What he wondered was how his uncle would take the news.

Spike perked up as he saw the clinic's front door open, watched his aunt walk toward him on unsteady legs. He scrambled off the hood, prepared to open her door for her but Rodi beat him to it. Spike sighed, got in, started up the engine.

"So, how did it go?" he asked.

Judy sighed. "Eleven weeks pregnant. I'm due in June, barring any problems. The doctor said I'm in good shape for a 45-year-old," she said.

"Congratulations," Rodimus said.

Author's Note: If you squint, this could be considered a sequel to "Fugitives." You don't have to read it to know what's going on here, but long story short, it's a year after the events of "Revenge of the Fallen." Spike Witwicky has been living with his aunt and uncle since his dad, Irving "Sparkplug" Witwicky died in the line of duty in the army. Spike knows about the Autobots, given he's got one as a guardian, Rodimus Prime. It's explained in "Fugitives" how this came to be, just in case.