Here's a new One Shot from your truly. FYI: I'm telling you now, it gets really drabble-y in the middle… and I probably ventured into this a little too far and that's how it came to be 14 pages long WITHOUT author's notes…. Anyway…

This is just a little drabble, as already stated, about what life might've been like for the Autobots in the future and the kinds of things Bumblebee's son would do (and what trouble he'd get into).

There is also mention of a "wife" of Bumblebee's, Engage's mother, who shall remain nameless. I find it alright for readers to insert whomever they want: Arcee, Elita One, Ironhide in drag, whatever floats your boat. OCs are also welcome, seeing as how I originally thought of her as an original character of mine.

Without further ado, please read and enjoy!

Disclaimer:TheKingJingles, that's me, does not own the Transformers franchise. Engage and his (at this time) nameless mother, plus my awesome and original page break (shown later) are copyrighted to me.

I hobbled off the medical table, landing with a loud bang onto the steel floor. My optics panned down and examined my newly repaired ankle, turning it in little circles and swinging it back and forth as Ratchet wiped his large metal hands clean of excess oil. The plates in my face shifted to a grin as I jogged around the Med Bay, running and stopping and jumping up as high as I could.

Behind me, I could hear Ratchet's voice processor chuckle and I looked down one more time before looking up at him. Even though his dark blue optics seemed faded from not recharging recently, they still held humor in them.

"Thank you, Ratchet," I remembered my manners and turned to him.

He grinned again, looking down on me from his great height, "You're welcome, 'Gage. Just try to be more careful with it."

I nodded and stepped back, "I promise!"

"Now, out of my Med Bay," he waved me off jokingly and turned back to his equipment, letting me run through the open doors and into the main hallway of the Autobot base.

The high-pitched clinking of my small feet echoed as I ran down the long, empty corridor, dozens of huge steel doors flashing past on either side of me. Most of them were shut, as the occupants of the base were either in the Rec Hall or their private quarters, or the unlucky ones were getting ready for their shifts.

My pace slowed as I reached the major intersection, the heart of this gigantic metallic monster. To my right, I picked up the hundreds of vibrations still bouncing around from the Recreation Hall, all of them from relaxing Autobots after a long day of training and basic missions. I took a step, before feeling my legs freeze up unexpectedly and my basic instincts took over, calling me to a different place. I backed up and listened to the hum of my processor, pondering what I could do, but with a nervous and shaky expulsion of air and I turned around and ran down the left path at top speed.

As I got far enough away from the clamor of the Rec Hall, my audio sensors tapped into more vibrations. These were large and thunderous, big enough to make my frail little body shake dynamically, but it wasn't like that was a glorious accomplishment. My sensors were able to pin-point the location and I uploaded the lesson of Undercover Warfare into my processor.

I followed the instructions and pressed my body against the wall, taking note that metal against metal made significant noise, and sidled down the hallway, spying fluorescent light flooding into the hall. When I reached the opening, I was able to slide my little head into the crack of the double doors and had to shut off my vocal processors to keep from gasping out.

Ironhide was locked into hand-to-hand combat with an invisible enemy. His joints were beginning to groan boisterously as he continued punching with all his might. Two quick jabs to the optics, and then he placed his weight on his front leg, whipping his other foot around and placing a strong kick to the chest plate. He pressed forward and continued punching and pulled the enemy I couldn't see, wrapping his arm around the neck and pulling it to its knees, launching his knee right into the spark cavity.

The black warrior suddenly stopped and stood straight, repair system whirling and working hard to revamp his worn out body. He began slowly walking around the training room, absent-mindedly focusing small, insignificant things that caught his optics while he began to wind down from the high intensity of battle. By this time, I had moved my position so that I was standing full-body in front small opening in the doors, and that's when he noticed me.

I could almost feel my spark fade out as Ironhide's infamous plasma cannon was crackling in front of my face. His face was contorted with rage and in his old age, I'm sure he confused me for an enemy from long ago. Then realization dawned on his face as he lowered the live weapon and stood at his full height, towering over me as Ratchet did. Actually, all of the other 'bots did that…

"'Gage… it is unwise to sneak up on an old war dog like that," Ironhide voice echoed in the training room and out into the hall.

"I apologize, sir. I was practicing my espionage tactics," I mumbled pathetically, staring guiltily at the floor.

He let out a laugh, leaning back with his hands on his hips as he gazed skyward, again looking at something I couldn't see. A small whoosh of air, the equivalent to a sigh escaped his intake valves as he turned his optics back towards me. He leaned forward and smacked a large hand on top of my head before leisurely turning around and heading back towards the center of the room.

"You keep practicing, 'Gage. You keep practicing and you'll be on my team soon enough. I'll promise you that," he vowed with his horse vocals.

I nodded to his back, and turned to leave, when his commanding voice stopped me.

"Oh, and 'Gage," Ironhide grunted, "If I find you in the Med Bay one more time I'll rip out your slagging spark myself."

My childish screams were probably heard on the other side of the planet. The logic portion of my processor reminded me that he joking, yet from past experience, (and seeing the leftovers of Decepticons once he was finished with them) I believed his every word.

By the time I snapped out of my reverie, a chilling realization spread down my frail exoskeleton. When I passed the intersection, instead of finding the noises of comfort in front of me, I took a left and rushed down the dark corridor. Fear encased me as I passed hefty doors, decorated generously with Autobot insignias. Important Autobot insignias.

I had wandered into a place few Autobots were allowed to step foot in without permission. The few 'bots that I knew that were granted this special access were Ironhide, Ratchet and, of course…

"Greetings, Engage," a deep voice rumbled.

If I could use the human gestures of gulping or breaking into a cold sweat, then I would do both in two millionths of a nano second. I hesitantly turned around and craned my neck as far back as my flimsy armor would grant and stared into the second bluest pair of optics I've ever seen. In front of me was the tallest Autobot I've laid my optics on, and probably ever would, tromping even Ironhide's record height. Not intimidating at all, right?

"G-Greetings, Optimus P-Prime, sir!" My voice sputtered and stood as straight as I possibly could.

As nervous as I was, for I refused to believe that I was scared, the commander's warm voice calmed me slightly. Emphasis on slightly. He leaned down as to try and ease my straining cables and locked his optics with mine; I could almost feel him digging deep into my spark, but in a reassuring way.

"And what might you be doing here? Last I heard you were in the Medical Bay with damage," The Mighty Autobot leader asked, genuinely concerned.

I could feel a motor in my face overheat, "It was nothing, sir, just a stupid mistake. Ratchet fixed it up, good as new."

Bowing my head, I couldn't help but twist my ankle unconsciously, as if proving the statement true. His sensors scanned and confirmed my words and then he straighten up and folded his arms across his wide chest, obviously content with his medic's work.

"I'm glad to see that you're safe and in one piece, Engage. Your mother would have had my spark."

His face looked pained, and he looked to take it back, but I kept my face level. Once in a 'blue moon,' as humans called it, one of the soldiers would talk about my mother. It was always a little phrase on something that she would've done or commented on (which apparently was frequent; she had many opinions), and the older 'bots would remember something about her; for them, it wasn't that hard, I believe she is still the only femme to have landed on this planet so far. And she was a memorable femme at that.

Still, my memory banks were blank; I'd been too young when my mother went offline, and so I do not know how it happened, and therefore, have little emotion towards the subject. The stories told her to be an honorable fighter and it was believable for her to have died in battle. Yet there had been subtle hints that there had been problems in my creation, and she, like many mothers across the galaxy, most likely lost her life for the life of her offspring.

There was a moment of silence between us two. The commander was reflecting and I had no reason to disturb him, for he was an Autobot who'd seen countless battles, endless sorrows and infinite joys. At last, he gazed down on me with a look of pride, similar to that of a parent; that of a grandparent, if I'm correct. Kneeling down, he placed his hand on my shoulder, a gesture that could easily crush me, and bent his old and battered face into a minute grin.

"Go. Find your father, Engage. I hear he is looking for you," Optimus Prime returned to his full height and replaced the smile with his commander façade.

He easily stepped over me and continued walking down the hallway, each enormous step creating a miniature tremor. It wasn't long before it seemed our leader disappeared into the darkness, leaving me alone in the cold and lifeless base. I couldn't help but stare mesmerized at the spot where the Great Optimus Prime had vanished, revealing the true nature of our presence on Earth.

Detached and emotionless, the Autobots were here for one real reason: to protect the humans. Most of the soldiers here were exactly like the base, indifferent and dark, following any orders their commander gave.

I didn't believe that. I couldn't. Not with him still here. With him still by my side I could still believe that there was hope and life here, not just darkness.

My feet moved as fast as the small gears and wires could move them. The noise could have been easily mistaken as an attack on the base, the bullets hitting the outer hull, if anyone had been paying attention. I ran frantically, briefly noting the blur of Ironhide and the commander on my sensors as I dashed past, taking no time for caution or patience. Unfortunately, this angered the few 'bots I encountered as I flew around them, practically knocking WheelJack to ground, but my speed only increased as I finally had the exit in my sights.

I only skidded to a stop when I burst out into the bright moonlight, permitting my weak system time to rest after that endeavor. My intake sucked in the crisp night air greedily as it cooled my overheating body, taking the time to perform a full scan on the area. It was foolish to just run out like that, Decepticons could be anywhere and a little sparkling like me could stand no chance.

A blip informed me that there was no life in the immediate area, and I made for the tree line, setting out on my short journey through the forest surrounding the base. I knew where my father was; he was always there, if not on missions or with me. To my admiration, only my father's closest comrades and most trusted friends knew of this spot, and they never told another soul where it was to respect his privacy. Even Optimus Prime admired my father for how much he went through over these years.

Keeping close to the trunks, I weaved through the maze of organic towers and burst back into the moonlight in a wide open meadow. The short blue-green grass ran right into the horizon, breaking it in half. There, it fell into a rocky cliff, hundreds of feet above a valley of tall stalks of grass waving back and forth in the light breeze.

My optics were captivated for many long moments at the simple beauty of this planet. They traced the skyline until I finally found what I was looking for, the only feeling of life in this desolate place, standing by a lone tree holding mightily on the edge of the cliff.

Bumblebee stood tall, back to me, gazing out onto the planet, as always. His wide shoulders held his long, armored arms at his sides, completely passive and unmoving, while his little useless wings twitched every so often because of the wind. The old yellow paint still glistened brightly although dust was clearly visible; he hadn't been taking good care of himself these past couple decades.

I jogged leisurely closer and my father had yet to acknowledge me or even move. When I was approximately three yards away, I slowed to a light-footed walk, trying to be as silent as possible. I expected him to at least glance over his shoulder or something, but I was standing next to him, looking back and forth from him to the night sky discreetly for a long time before he moved. And all he did was glance at the leaves in the tree, the branches brushing against him once or twice. The act was so miniscule I was surprised he noticed it.

As slightly frustrating as this was, I couldn't bring myself to leave. My father was one of the greatest Autobots in history, even the commander said so, and as easy going as my father was, I'm sure I could never handle the guilt of abandoning him when I should be honoring his presense.

"Just like old times," he whispered, gradually coming from his memories.

I took another step forward and turned around, looking up and zooming in on his face. My father still looked so young after all he'd been through, just counting all the events on this planet. His optics' shine outshadowed even that of Optimus, something he was immensely proud of, something Samuel Witwicky loved him for.

"Father…" I finally found my voice processor, no matter how soft it was.

Either he hadn't heard me or he was ignoring me, and my vote was with the latter. He always had an issue with manners; he preferred not to use them as much as he could, seeing as informality was much faster and much more amusing. That and he had this thing of ignoring me when I really wanted his attention.

"Dad," I tried again, only to be met with silence.

"Dad!"

I repeated his name, again and again, louder each time. With a cute growl, I backed and launched myself at him, grasping onto his armor and climbing up to his head and prepared to strike. A hand came out of nowhere and large fingers wrapped around my waist and yanked me off with ease, and I braced for impact against the cold dirt. Instead, those blue optics gazed down on me with glee radiating from deep within as Bumblebee held me in front of his chest.

"Dad!" My processor strained as I struggled in his literal iron grasp, "Dad, let me down!"

He let out a hearty laugh and went to place me on his shoulder, as he always did. Then he paused, that vibrant energy dwindling. Dad lowered me to the ground and gently released me, a solemn look etched onto his face. It was rather unnerving.

"What's up, Goldie?"

He spoke so serious; the nickname didn't relieve the tension. It was another thing Dad did: he never used my real name, not unless I was in so much trouble I actually wished that a Decepticon would swoop down and end my misery. Yet only once did I hear my dad use this tone, and it had been the worst moment of my life.

"The sky the last time I looked," I laughed lightly and glanced back up at him with a smile, but it vanished as he remained rigid and cold.

Dad didn't reply, so I bowed my head and told the truth; he had a mystical way of always dragging it out of me, "I was in the Med Bay today."

"Why?"

I looked away in embarrassment, "The twins showed me a new move, so I was practicing in the storage compartment."

Keeping my head low, I glanced up at Dad to see him staring at me, so I continued, "I kicked a tall unit and got my foot stuck, and it almost ripped off."

"Did you cry?" Figures he would say that, but at least he has a small smile on his face now.

"No!" I cried vehemently, "And besides, Ratchet fixed it as good as new. Ask him! He'll tell you!"

"That's alright, I don't feel like it."

Anger bubbled in my system as I held my fists at my sides. I turned and stomped away, refraining from attempting to slug my own father right in his slightly smirking faceplate. The crisp air cooled me down a bit, but it was difficult for me, always being so weak and needing protection.

"Why?"

I stopped, looking back up at him with wide optics. This was why he was being so serious, I could feel it deep in my spark; I would finally be getting my answers.

"What, Dad?" My fists tightened, not out of fury, but fear.

"Why do you try so hard?"

The ground rushed up to meet me in an instant. My sensors told me that my knee joints had stopped working, causing them to buckle and bring me closer to the ground. I didn't understand and ran another scan. Everything was in perfect condition, so was it emotion that over powered the gears?

I looked up to see that Dad had taken a step towards me, hand outstretched and frozen like a statue. Shakily, I returned to my feet and he relaxed as well, taking giant strides over to me and sticking out his hand to me. Without hesitation I stepped on and found myself on my usual perch on his shoulder and he turned to gaze over the cliff once more.

He was still for a second, and then shrugged, jostling me around a bit. It was his cue to get me talking. As much as I wanted to stay quiet, he would never let me live down how 'insecure I was even with my own father'.

"I… I don't know."

I spit it out so quickly I knew he would press the issue. It was hard to think of an answer, especially when I didn't understand the question. Thoughts of the past floated up from my banks, all of them of my father and all the work he's done, all the stories of how much he accomplished in his life.

"Why… did you try so hard?" I asked, hoping his answer would guide mine.

He must have been surprised, but Dad refused to show it. Puffing out his chest, he folded his arms and watched a small cloud drift over the moon.

"I wanted to protect them," Bumblebee began, "They had been kind to me, so I was willing to give my life for theirs."

Another nudge told me it was my turn.

I stared at my feet, embarrassed and ashamed. His answer was, of course, short and to-the-point, yet more complete and honest than mine could ever be. My small fingers tugged at the edge of my flimsy armor, listening to the vibration of the weak earth metal as I lifted a corner and let itthwing back and forth.

"I…" The grip on my upper thigh plate tightened, "I don't want to be protected anymore. Everyone always fusses over me, and I'm tired of it. I want to be strong! I want to join the team! I know I can do it, Dad! I know I can!" I felt the passion boiling inside me, and it wanted to be let free.

Dad's bright blue optics were watching me intently, no sign of interrupting my most hidden feelings coming to the surface. Unhurriedly, he turned his gaze towards the ground, then back to the horizon and his processor hummed in thought. As I gazed at him, I idly thought about how different my dad could be. Only a few weeks before, during a brief moment of off-time Optimus had presented him with, he appeared to be a totally different 'bot.

I recalled how he took me deep into the mountain range on the western side of the continent, far away from many humans, where only animals and trees were plentiful. For five days straight, our father-son duo had taken over the mountains, playing one Autobot sized game of Search and Destroy. Dad complimented me on my seeking skills, but said that my destroying still needed work, seeing as how he tackled me to the ground every time, booming laughter rustling eagles and bears all over the mountain.

My spark grew heavy as I remembered the moment we came back, the small reminiscent smile on my faceplate disappearing. Optimus and Ironhide met us at the base, a mission ready and waiting for my father, the last life-form with ahint of life still within him; not like the rest of the crew in the base, reminding me of those pitiable human-made robots that could never understand emotions, much less express them. And, in the blink of an optic, Dad was easily molded into the soldier he was and took off without as much as a goodbye to me.

That is what caused my spark the most pain. Up until then, it took him eons to be able to part with me to go on a mission, other 'bots having to pry him away from me. When I was younger, I begged him to stay, and then, in recent years, it was he who was unable to leave me behind. (Ratchet diagnosed it as 'Unwilling-to-let-go Parent Syndrome', something Judy Witwicky clearly had a bad case of.) In such a short time span, in human or Cybertronian terms, he had detached himself from me and had "grown up".

I was so lost in my thoughts; I didn't notice that my dad was vying for my attention. At first, he just stared at me with those emotional optics. When that didn't work, he started saying my name over and over again, vocals filling with whine each additional time it was spoken. It was all-too apparent how young my father was when he resorted to chirps, clicks and whistles that a sparkling would use, whimpering and begging for my attention, as it would usually never break from him.

My thoughts were finally jostled when he nuzzled his face into my side and I turned to look at his head, almost bigger than my body and leaned away, a position and voice full of attitude, "You look pathetic when you do that."

Dad let out a low whistle, then, suddenly, shot his shoulder up as high as his gears would allow, bucking me off with a force that jerked my head painfully. The wind rushed past me as the ground came dangerously close for my comfort, auto mechanisms clicking online, and I widened my optics. Calculations and numbers flashed as I analyzed everything within a twenty-foot radius, programs locking in on the most logical plan.

I curled my legs up towards my chest and wrapped my arms around them, the shape rolling my lower half towards the shimmering grass, and, at the last moment, sprung out my feet to bounce in the air again. This time, I lengthened myself, performing a back flip and landing in a graceful crouch, one hand gripping the dirt for balance, slowly looking up into the face of my father. He mimicked my pose and at the same time, both of us launched at the other.

His hands reached out to grab me, but I wasn't in the mood to play games. My feet slid in the dirt as I ducked under his arm and lifted back up in one fluid motion. Smirking, I calculated that I was exactly where I wanted to be, tucked in the vulnerable crevices of Bumblebee's workings. My right hand started to click and pieces folded back; I smashed my cold arm against my father's chest and all of his motors locked in place.

My arm was vibrating horrendously, but unwavering as I held the empty conjunction, right where a plasma cannon would be placed when I was old enough, at Bumblebee's chest, right above his spark. Whether fear or confusion compelled him to remain still, I could feel the vibrations beneath my metal, and it rather made me feel like I should empty my tank. The thought of pointing a weapon at my own father was sickening.

The hiss of his hydraulics rang in my audio receptors as he let his arms fall limp to his sides, the rest of his body rising to his full height. Strong blue optics stared down at me and automatically, I felt myself back off. No, I hissed at myself, I will not. I cannot! I won't let myself be weak! I stepped forward and puffed out my chest, holding the empty gun at my side ominously.

The Autobot solider Bumblebee looked down upon me, the light shining in his gaze reflecting the pride of his equal, "Why do you try so hard?"

I turned my baby blue optics down towards my arm, imagining the shining new cannon that would proudly hang there in such a short time. I thought about the others who held the same weapons and fought, some losing their lives in the process. My mother had fought to protect me, my father fought to protect her; Ironhide and Ratchet fought to protect their friends and Optimus Prime fought for every life. The Bumblebee I never knew fought for the late Samuel Witwicky and his love, nearly losing his life for them. I knew I could never be that brave, and yet…

"I fight to protect those I care about, and those who care about me. I fight for those who cannot fight for themselves and for those who need protection," I said, my vocal processor deepening with determination, 'And for you, Dad. I will always fight for you.' I vowed to myself,'To keep that smile on your face. To keep the Bumblebee everyone knows and loves alive and well, to keep hope on this planet for all of our kind and the humans.'

Bumblebee gazed down on me, towering over my small yet sturdy form. Then he put his hands on his hips and laughed. My cerebral unit had two options: fall over from shock and embarrassment or bottle up the immense anger and embarrassment. Luckily for my reputation, it chose Option Two.

My hands shook ferociously at my sides as I bowed my head and held my optic plates closed tightly in attempt to ignore the animated chuckles that reignited the spark in my father's chest. He stopped and leaned forward, clearly displaying the height difference, cocking his head slightly to the side with attitude.

"Then I suppose you're finally ready."

I blinked, staring up at him with a look of stupefy, "Ready? For what?"

"Ready…," Bumblebee straightened and stared up towards the sky and his optics locked with a bright twinkling star, glittering amongst the navy blanket of sky in the distance, and he let the silence overcome me. Then he took a slow, rumbling intake of air, "To have someone you need to protect. Someone you will need to look after; someone who will need you to love them, and someone who will love you in return. A partnership that will bind you together indefinitely, something that will make you invincible."

"Like you, Dad?"

His optics caught mine, a grateful and proud look; the kind that would've made both of our optics leak for hours on end if we didn't instinctively listen to the soldier inside us. His face plate slowly formed a shy smile that made my spark flicker and form a deep, strange feeling in my chassis. I think the only way it could be described would be fulfillment, a complete content-ness in my life, even though it was spiraling out of control. I couldn't be prouder of my father, the greatest Autobot warrior ever and I was following in his footsteps, finally pulling my own weight amongst our ranks.

Neither of us spoke, just let the bond between father and son, teacher and student, older brother and younger brother, friend and friend link to each other and grow strong, impervious to damage, completely unbreakable. I knew my time with him was short, and soon I would have to leave him, but I could do no more but wait while the sun slowly crept over the horizon, basking us both in the brilliant orange light of a new dawn.

TRANSFORMERS #Time Skip# (Cool page break huh?)

"Dad, I don't know if I can do this," I repeated, sounding sparkling with a broken voice box, as I continued my pacing.

He snuffed another human-like snort with his hand as Ironhide groaned again.

"Look kid," the Weapons Specialist shot out hot air from his intake, "You're brooding more than a femme who's had one too many high-grade cubes. Just relax."

"But," I couldn't meet their optics, mumbling, "What if…"

"What is it, Engage?" Ratchet sighed.

"What if he doesn't like me?"

Dad lost it; hand flying up in the air as his frame shook with hefty laughter, almost falling over onto his back from his seat. Ratchet and Ironhide exchanged a look before the former sighed again, scratching his lime-green head nervously.

"Why would you worry about such an illogical thing?" The Medic asked, shooting a glare at Bumblebee when he couldn't control his laughter. Ironhide rolled his optics, but added his own little rumble-like chuckle when my father still couldn't stop himself.

I glanced up immediately at the first wave of sound from Optimus' mighty wake as he came into our little circle, over the trees that surround and hid us from the modern house where my new charge awaited. He was within audio range and I knew that all of the veteran warriors around me would have slight trouble understanding my "virgin" aspect in this area. I had yet to get my "feet wet" as it were, and my Dad's childish reaction was definitely not reassuring.

"I guess I don't think I can live up to my predecessor's glory," I spoke with a hushed tone; my father froze immediately and sat up, hunched over and staring at me with analyzing optics, the rest in similar statures. My faceplate warmed uncomfortably, "I have very big, err, 'shoes' to fill."

"Engage," Optimus Prime rumbled in his commanding yet fatherly voice, before all three of his companions could speak a single word and they slumped back in defeat, "I could think of no greater solider or friend to aptly take on this mission, even if Bumblebee is legendary for his work. You may not realize it, but he has taught you everything he knows, and you can do it all with outstanding results. I have my utmost faith in you." He winked.

"Yeah, runt, who do you think taught you how to be a perfect solider?" Ironhide grunted, folding his massive arms across his chest, "Only the best deserve the best."

Ratchet leaned down and stared into my optics, "We have taught you everything we could. Now you must experience it for yourself, and continue to grow. But remember, we are a team; we will always be here for you."

I nodded at all of them, and when I looked up, noticed Dad looking at me with his head slightly tilted, hand covering his mouth plates still, but he needn't say anything. I had already received every tip I needed from him: how to stand, how to talk, how to fight, how to duck, how to hide, and most importantly: how to delete everything he said out of my memory banks.

'Just do what feels right, shortie,' he said in mid-noogie, 'It's all about you now.'

Optimus kneeled in front of me as his hand extended towards me, "It is time."

One last glance at all of their faces, memorizing how to look courageous, to appear strong, and I followed Prime's mighty footsteps through the line of trees, unable to part myself from his shadow as we neared the grandiose house. Greek pillars supported the porch and the oriental tiled roof, large open windows with beautiful African tapestries blowing in the slight breeze; comfortable chairs were set on the family-sized porch wrapping around the perimeter, the rest opening into a large grassy yard with a healthy forest not far off.

My three mentors trailed us, but my focus was on the small group of humans barely visible in front of my commander's leg. There was only one I recognized, Miss Lennox, as she stood in front of her youngest generation with obvious pride on her shimmering features, watching with a careful eye as the young ones caught sight of us coming towards them. Although she was far over half of a century old, her health was exponentially better than her parents, thanks to Ratchet's wonderful care, and she was still quite strong (much to Ironhide's immeasurable pleasure).

All four of the soldiers lined up in front of the humans, leaving me behind them as they starting off with the traditional small talk: catching up on personal and family events and the like. My optics began to wander as well as my processor around the natural beauty of the area. No matter how important the words forming in Optimus Prime's mouth, I could not bring myself to listen, especially when I spied her.

Her hair was burgundy with a very radiant red shimmer in the sunlight, complimenting her fair skin and shy blue eyes. The build was slight and lithe, even for a young human girl, and I could feel my processor begin to calculate abnormally fast, the low hum becoming obviously present as I started to fret over the UVB rays damaging that fine skin, an uncontrollable feeling which I couldn't find a purpose behind.

"Engage."

I jumped at my name, straightening and standing at Attention with his command. Optimus had turned towards me, revealing every member of the group of organics, the pale green dress of the female demanding my gaze. It drained all of my willpower to follow directions, but I kept my focus trained on my leader and his order to step forward, inviting me with a wave of his hand.

Optics traveled down the line of humans and I attempted to figure out who my charge would be. Annabelle would never be let out of Ironhide's literal steel grasp, and her son in the Air Force with his new wife and child were safe in the military's hands, Maggie Madsen's descendants, although tickled with such a option, were not interested, and John Keller's family was protected by the Secret Service.

The only outcast was the current head of the Witwicky family, much to those related to the Witwicky saga's discomfort. In the third generation, Lauren married a man my father despised, only with the sole purpose of protecting her in mind. He could tell the man's intentions were for no good for his charge, yet she refused to listen to him. Three years later, the young woman came crying back with a baby in her arms, begging for his forgiveness and protection from the abusive man who mistreated and lied to her. Bumblebee made sure that the wicked man would never bother anyone, especially Lauren, again, and was ready to become her guardian once more. Lauren declined, reasoning that she had her chance, and lost it fair-and-square to her own misfortune.

Now, Dad was standing over her, shifting his weight slightly as he watched the progression with extra strain. He was nervous, but he stubbornly refused to leave, and I couldn't figure out why.

"Autobot Engage," my attention immediately snapped back to Optimus as his perfect posture caused him to appear majestic and godly, "The time has come for you to become a guardian. You have proven yourself an Autobot, and now must follow the traditions of our kind and protect another."

He turned and looked at the girl in the olive dress and kneeled down, chuckling softly as she shied away. Behind her, Lauren and Annabelle looked on with proud eyes, and Lauren leaned over and pressed lightly on the child's back to encourage her forward. I was still confused; did this girl know where my charge was?

"Angeline, this is Engage," Optimus let his voice trail as he returned to his full height, giving me a full view of the girl, and her, of me. Her eyes were wide with wonder as they studied the top of my head to the tip of my toes, probably curious on how I was only a few feet taller than her and not three times her giant. Timidly, her hands wrapped together as Angeline took small, cautious steps forward, bowing her head while she glanced up at me from beneath her eyelashes.

"Hi." She whispered, softly, speaking to her shoes.

"Engage," Optimus crossed his arms and grinned, "This is your partner."

An awkward silence filled the area. I felt my chassis fall to my feet and coolant rush through my entire body, chilling me to the spark. Angeline blinked and leaned forward expectantly, but I couldn't move a single inch. Then, I could've sworn I heard an audible click of my processor as everything made sense. My father was laughing because I expected my partner to be a male, yet before me stands this beautiful female, and even now, he noticed my epiphany and laughed silently once again over Lauren's shoulder.

I was sure that he, like Ironhide and Ratchet standing behind me, no doubt with obvious amusement on their faces, were waiting for me to slip and crumble under my own heavy accusations. Then a rather surreal thought came to me: why did I have to? Yes I was wrong, but does that mean all of my hopes of a perfect partnership should be ruined because of a small gender factor? I'll prove myself better than that! I'm mature!

Opening my facial plates, the only thing that came out was a rather embarrassing, rodent-like squeak, and all the adults and mechs laughed, Angeline forming a small and adorable smile. I reached up and buzzed a little sound byte into my hand to double check I was functioning properly.

"A-Angeline," I tried jittering again, "It is an h-h-honor to be your partner."

She glanced up at me with her cheeks turning a nice rosy color and she giggled, the sound of tinkling bells met my audio receptors. In that moment, it felt like everything around us had melted away, and we were just two stars floating in the vastness of space. I stared into her blue eyes as she gazed back at me, and I could feel what my father was talking about: not only a figurative bond, but a living, pulsing bond between the two of us. With her, I could do anything, and I would do anything to protect her, no matter the cost to myself.

"Angie."

My optics blinked and I refocused on her face, shimmering in the afternoon sun as the gentle breeze played with her hair.

"I'm sorry?"

"Please," she whispered sweetly, "Call me Angie."

Well? Comments andconstructive criticism are appreciated. Flames will make me cry.

This was a little awkward for me because I'm not used to writing in first person, but I feel like it had to be done this way, so please take that into consideration!

Before it can be asked, (even if everyone hates this story) I've already mapped out a sequel in my head, another one shot digging a little deeper into the story of Engage and Angie. (Be patient! I'm very slow!) If anyone would like more adventures of Engage as a sparkling, or even to create a back story for Bumblebee and his femme (from the time they landed on earth, creating Engage, yadda yadda) please tell me! I'd love to hear what you want to read!

Review and tip your waitresses! Jingles out!