First chapter of a fanfiction I have been working very hard on, featuring my own characters Madison Ruth Pelligrini and Naomi Ann McFly. It's movieverse, but with obvious G1 and IDW influences (Including the characters Carly and Raul). Next chapter will have elements of the G1 episode "Make Tracks", but after that I plan to take it in a completely new direction.

Please tell me what you think! I hope you like it!

Transformers (c) Hasbro

Naomi and Madison (c) me

--

'He's got to be somewhere, I can still feel him... still... feel... Sunstreaker...'

--

The stereotypical American dream, Madison supposed, consisted of a perfect little family, a golden retriever, a white-picket fence, and a Corvette. And while she was almost positive she'd never get any of the other stuff, she at least had the most important part: that Corvette. Her mother's ex-boyfriend Jeremy had given it to her for graduation. Her mother hadn't kept Jeremy, but Madison Pelligrini had kept the car.

Now, it would be absolutely wonderful if the damn thing would start.

"Come on," she begged it, pleaded it, stroked the steering wheel to butter it up. But it was all to no avail. The shining silver Corvette, beautiful as it was, did not want to budge.

"I don't believe it! I haven't even had this goddamn car for a year yet and it won't even start! Well, that is fabulous, just fabulous!" She shook her frizzy curls (which she hated) in frustration, feeling yet another headache coming on - she had only yesterday been bragging to all her internet friends about her gorgeous 'Vette, and now? Now?!

Sighing, she looked over at the almost-Painted Lady next door, not quite expensive enough to be considered one of San Francisco's famous Victorians. Luckily, the man who lived in that orange house was a mechanic. He'd helped her mother's constant string of boyfriends multiple times. Not that Madison knew much about him - she never talked to her mother's boyfriends if she could help it. She hated them all - always trying to win her and her sister Lisbeth over with their false smiles and phony compliments.

But that wasn't important right now. What was important was getting her much-beloved Corvette fixed as soon as possible.

--

"Hello?" Madison blinked, confused, when the person that came to the door was not the mechanic with the grey sideburns, but a pretty young woman with blonde waves going just past her shoulders. It was girls like this who made Madison feel self-conscious about her own hair and body. "Did... did the mechanic guy move?"

The girl laughed. "You mean my Uncle Ben? No, he's at work already! I'm Carly Thornwood," she thrust out a hand to shake. When the shorter, dark-haired girl merely stared at it, Carly laughed nervously and let it fall limply to her side.

"Madison Pelligrini. I live next door. My baby - er, my Corvette - won't start."

Carly sighed. "I think Uncle Ben left one of the trucks here; let me tow it for you. You got a ride home, like from your mother or something?"

"Please," she snorted, "I'm nineteen! Like I want my 'beloved smother' driving me around. I'll call Naomi, at least she has an awesome ride."

"Oh?" the blonde's indigo eyes glittered. "I love cars! If I could afford to sell my hybrid, I'd totally get something cooler! What does your friend drive?"

"What?" Madison narrowed her own golden eyes. She hated small talk. "Uh, a 2002 blue Trans-Am? Look, just tow the 'Vette for me. I'll come along to sign papers or something."

--

Naomi Ann McFly, unlike her best friend since kindergarten (and counting), generally slept in until something woke her up. Today, that something just happened to be a phone call from the aforementioned best friend.

"You're at the where? Irving Street Mechanic? But why?!" she asked as she pulled on some socks that didn't match, shaking a Powerbar out of one of them and deciding it was as good a breakfast as anything else. "What do you mean the Corvette won't start? Isn't that thing like brand new or something?"

"I've got an idea, Naomi," Madison's voice sounded annoyed in the phone. "Let's pretend I'm not pissed about having to work extra hours to pay for my baby to get fixed, and, and let's pretend you freaking out isn't making it all worse."

"I didn't realise I was freaking out..." Naomi stuffed her feet into old gym sneakers. "Hey, calm down, Mad. The Corvette'll be fine - it's probably just got a dead battery or something, right?"

"Whatever, I don't even care. Just come pick me up?"

"I'll be right over."

--

The Blue Trans-Am sat out in the parking lot on Irving Street, waiting patiently as its owner and her best friend spoke with the mechanic about the Corvette. The Trans-Am, of course, really had no choice but to be patient, as Naomi had the keys, but still, it was remarkably patient.

Finally, it's door opened, and someone stepped into its driver's seat. Unfortunately, this someone was not the familiar blonde girl, but rather a lanky Hispanic boy who was currently hot-wiring the car.

Naomi herself was still inside, looking up at just the right moment to see the Trans-Am being driven away by someone other than her. Running outside with Madison and Carly on her heels, she wasn't quite fast enough, and was greeted with the sight of her car speeding away.

"My car!" the boy hightailing it out of there could hear the ponytailed girl yelling. "That jerk is stealing my car!"

He would have felt bad, but he figured she looked like she could afford a new one. He needed this car more than she did anyhow. Still, just to be sure his conscience couldn't get the best of him, he sped away until he reached the business neighbourhood, rummaging in the glove compartment for enough spare change to park in the structure close to the TransAmerica pyramid. The Trans-Am's tyres squealed as he spun into a parking space on the bottom level, and he jumped out of the car to wait for his heart rate to slow down, leaning on the hood of his new car.

When the adrenaline of stealing the thing finally wore off, the boy - Raúl Fernando Alonso, he was called - popped the hood to inspect the engine. He knew a lot about cars, or at least had been taught a lot by his old man before he'd been kicked out, and wanted to make sure the car was sellable. But...

"What's this?" he held up a red wire that had been lying across the engine, dropping it quickly when he felt its heat through his torn glove. "I don't remember Papá ever showing me a wire like this... Ay, who am I even talking to? Shut up, Raúl!"

He gingerly picked up the wire again, staring at the odd shaped end of it. It looked like it should plug in somewhere, but for the life of him he couldn't see where. He ran his free hand over the car's inner parts, admiring the spotless engine bay at the same time searching for a place to plug the wire in. What was this wire even for?!

Finally, his finger hit something. It didn't exactly feel like a hole, more a small niche near the brake fluid, but it was worth a try. Bracing himself for the worst, he shoved the wire into it. He pulled his hands back quickly, waiting for the car to explode or something, but it didn't even spark!

Sighing his relief, Raúl stared at the engine some more, finding nothing wrong so far.

"Man, you're a beauty..." he sighed. "I'd kill for a car like you! But I need the money more than I need a car... So, c'mon, I guess."

"More than you need a friend?" a syrupy sweet voice surprised Raúl, who gasped and whipped around.

"Wh-who said that?!" He demanded. "Who the hell else is down here?!"

"Turn around, Raúl."

The boy turned and yelped as the Trans-Am began to fold into itself and - he could hardly believe what he was seeing - stand up!

"Who are you!?" Raúl shouted. "What are you!? How the hell do you know my name?!"

"You said your name," the car - or rather, now it was a robot - stretched out his arms like Raúl did when he woke up in the mornings. "Ugh, I have such a kink in my right shoulder! Could you check it for me?" the robot kneeled down even more than it already was.

"Stay back, man, I don't need any more trouble! Ay, Dios mío..."

"Calm down! That is no way for a young man to behave himself! Humans - don't you think that if I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so three times over by now? And how arrogant is it of you to assume that if I wanted to hurt anyone, it'd be a scrawny little punk like you?"

Raúl's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. "What are you, man? Er, robot... You're a robot, yeah?"

"What a charming little term, 'robot'..." the robot smirked. Somehow. It actually smirked. "I suppose, yes, you would call me a robot. Or rather, an Autobot."

"Oh, I get it... like... like an automobile robot?"

"Autonomous," the robot - Autobot - corrected.

"Okay, uh... I dunno anything about Autobots, but I know cars alright. Lemme see your shoulder, then, Autobot."

"Tracks."

"What?"

"My name," the blue robot answered as he brought his shoulder as low as he could. "It's Tracks. I came to your planet looking for my comrades, but got side-tracked."

"Comrades?" Raúl stepped closer and stood on his tiptoe trying to see into the shoulder. "So there are more of you!?"

"Supposedly," Tracks said sourly. "I have no idea where any of them are; certainly not around here. Unfortunately, a lot of my internal systems got jammed during my rather, er, rough landing."

"Internal systems...?"

"My homing beacon is busted. My transformation cog's wire was loose too, until you plugged it in. Any progress with my shoulder?"

"You've got like three wires in a knot. You want I should untie them or something?"

"Please. Then I need to get back to Naomi so I can explain it all to her - if anyone can help me, she could."

"Naomi...?"

"My driver. The girl you took me from. You are going to bring me back, yes?"

"Uh..." Raúl looked away, immediately feeling guilty. "Dammit..."

"Raúl?" Tracks looked surprised, somehow. "Are you okay? You're making the look Naomi makes before her eyes begin to leak!"

"Well, fuck, man, you weren't supposed to be alive!"

"Excuse me?"

"What the hell am I gonna do now?"

"Raúl... what's wrong? Why were you saying you need money?"

"Forget it, man. You wouldn't understand."

"Raúl, I'm your friend. I swear to Primus."

"What?"

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Ng," Raúl rubbed his eye to keep himself from getting too emotional. Dammit, he was so weak sometimes! "It's not easy, man, being on the streets like I am. I tried to survive on my own, I really did, but then I got caught up with this stupid gang, and-"

"Gang?" Tracks gave the boy a blank look.

"Yeah, gang, uh... like a group of, uh, criminals. You know what a criminal is, yeah?"

The blue glowing orbs that formed what Raúl would call Tracks's eyes flashed as the robot nodded slowly.

"Anyway, I got in trouble with one. See, I thought at the time I should join cos I was having trouble scraping enough change together to even eat once a week, and I figured they'd have my back or something instead of try to put me in a foster home like the shelters did. But I just couldn't be one of them! My stupid conscience got in the way! It's just like high school, man, but with guns and shit. I'm too different..."

Tracks hesitated for a minute - he didn't know too much about San Francisco street life, but a quick internet search in his CPU told him more than he needed to know about the kind of life his new young friend was hinting at.

"And the money you said you needed..."

"They told me nobody leaves their gang without paying, either with a large sum of cash, or their life. What the hell am I supposed to do, man? Those pendejos are gonna kill me or something if I don't get them their money by the end of the week!"

"Raúl, calm down. I think I might have a way to help you, if you promise to help me afterwards."

"Ha! Like you could get the money any faster than I could."

"Let me try! I swear that I won't let you die!"

The boy sighed. "Fine, whatever. It can't be any worse than what I could have done. You help me out, and then I help you find this Naomi, yeah?"

"Or how about, I help you out, and then you and Naomi both help me find the Autobots."

"Are you serious?!"

"Raúl, I've told you too much to just leave you!"

"Fine!" Raúl threw his hands up. "Whatever you say, man. As long as she doesn't turn me into the cops or something."

"I'll do what I can."