Okay, since so many damn people think I'm an unoriginal thief, I'm trying something different. I'll still be using Dahlia but she won't be related to Sam and this'll be towards the end of the first Transformers.

Summary: Fate rarely calls upon us, but only in the time of need. It started out as only taking a trip into Mission City. However, Fate called upon me in the midst of an alien war not save the world but a specific yellow and black bot. 'Bee/Oc. First Transformers Fic.

Rated: T

Characters: Bumblebee/Oc

Oc Character: Dahlia Monroe — looks like model Adriana Lima

-Squid

"Dahlia, you're going to be late!"

"Mom, chill out please," I sighed over the phone, switching on the right turn signal of my turquoise Toyota Tercel as I prepared to turn.

"No, I will not 'chill out'. I bent over backwards to get you featured in this. I could loose my job if you don't show up!"

"You aren't going to loose your job. And if I'm late, I can make it up to you."

Let me start from the beginning. The name's Dahlia. Dahlia Monore. Pronounced Dah Lee Uh. I live in Tranquil City and attend the local high school there. I guess you could say I was an average girl to some people while others thought I was beaut young woman. I stood at a height of 5'9" and was a brunette with sky blue eyes. So you could I was pretty but I wasn't vain. That's the last thing I ever wanted be. Anyway, here's the thing—my mom's an Art Curator for Mission City Center of Modern Art for the past few years. At a young age, I was exposed to many different eras of art ranging from Claude Monet to Picasso. Around the beginning of high school I finally began taking art classes to better my skill. Now, here I was at sixteen getting my first gig to present my pieces. But, guess what? I'm gonna be late! Cursing the slow moving traffic, I ended the call with my mother and drummed my fingers along the steering wheel. After about five minutes, I finally noticed the light was green but the people weren't driving forward.

I couldn't see what had made everyone go still but I was pretty sure it was an earthquake. People ran screaming for their lives like the world was ending. The ground shook so much that it rattled my car and everything inside it. I need to get out of here. This could be disastrous. Grabbing my blue and white stripe satchel, I got out my car trying to get around the terrified people—

"Move out the fucking way, bitch!" I grated my teeth together glaring at the asshole the shoved me to the ground. He kept running not looking back.

The pain in my side intensified once I touched. I ignored the tears that pricked my eyes and looked at my bag strewn across the other side of the street. Trying to pick myself up, I reached hand out balance my hand on the side of my car. It was gone. My hand grabbed at the space as I slowly turned around coming face to with...well that's just it. I didn't know what the hell the thing was. It was some type of giant metal foot making a pancake out of my car. A piercing screech tore through my throat as a metal fist bigger than I was smashed the pavement next to me. A metal and robotic like sneering face glared down at me with red blazing eyes. A guttural growl rumbled from it. "Ugh, disgusting weak little squishy insect," it spat, striking a metal finger towards my chest area. I screamed feeling the wind rushing against my face before smacking hard onto the middle of the street. I gripped at my chest, feeling agony rippling my heart pounding in my chest.

Though completely ready to cower behind just about anything right now, I mustered up enough courage to mutter, "Yeah, go on and scat, punk ass" as it stalked away. Yeah probably not the best idea when faced against a giant evil robot from hell. It turned around, arms forming into some type of gun or cannon. "Shit," I cussed scrambling on my butt to get up. "Bad idea to curse out a robot." Before it could even charge a blast struck it in the chest and killed it with a clean shot. Whipping my head around, I looked behind me. Another robot, only this one was yellow and black with bright blue eyes, was leg less and strapped to the back of a tow truck. The truck drove in reverse while the thing shot. I stared trying to will myself to move before my ass got run over. But it had other plans.

The yellow bot grabbed me, tow trucking still driving at full speed. I yelled at banging my tiny fists on its hand wrapped around my midsection. "Let me go, you son of a bitch! I don't wanna die! I'm too young to die!" I cried scrambling to get out of it's grip but it wasn't letting me go anytime soon. In fact, it's grip tightened around me. Blindingly fast, it's chest opened up and it placed me in a space next to this glow orb looking thing—which I'm guessing was it's heart? Cables wrapped around me to stop my thrashing and the metal chest closed in front of me. Wonderful, just fucking peachy.

"First, I'm called a squishy and almost stepped upon and now I'm being kidnapped and probably on my way to some sort of dissection chamber," I grumbled, wincing at the sounds of explosions happening outside and the pressure against my chest. I swear I felt the whole inside of this rumble with laughter. But maybe those were impacting explosions. Then again if that were the case I'd probably be dead...so maybe not.

"Permission to speak," the voice was surrounding me so I had to assume it belonged to the bot I was currently in. I had to admit it sounded kinda nice. Like a mix between adolescence and adulthood.

"You speak now?" I heard another voice asked.

"Permission granted," answered a baritone voice. It sounded powerful and full of authority.

"I wish to stay with the boy," my bot captor said.

"Yes," breathed who I guess was 'the boy'.

"I wished you let me the hell out your fucking chest!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

"Bumblebee, why does it sound like there's a human behind your chassis platings?" asked another gruff voice.

"Because there is one! Now let me the hell out! I refuse to be apart of your dissection probing!" I bellowed defiantly as the cables loosened around me and his—wait his?— chest plate things opened up. It's hand delicately circled around me before placing me on the ground. It looked back at me making whirring and clicking noises frantically trying to calm me down.

"Why in hell did you pick me up? You scared the shit outta me and practically made me soil myself and—oh my god," I screamed falling flat on my but once I noticed all the other robots staring at me looking freaking amused. I didn't even know robots had emotions.

"Dahlia!" I recognized that voice as my Physics partner from school (another story in itself). But what the shit was she doing here?

"Mikaela? What the freak is going on," Mikaela embraced me fiercely with a hug. A sharp cry of pain hissed through my teeth.

"My scans show she has a few bruised ribs and burn scrap from being tossed on the pavement," I stared buck-eyed at the neon green and yellow robot and blinked.

"Uh," I stared gobsmacked at all of them. Not that this wasn't cool but I just hoped they wouldn't hurt me. "They're not gonna step on me or call me a squishy are they?" I whispered to Mikaela who smiled at my statement.

"We are not like the foe you have faced today. As Bumblebee has relayed to me, he rescued you from one of our foes called Decepticons. They are a race bent conquering this world and the universe. We are the Autobots and I'm Optimus Prime," the deep baritone voice I heard earlier came from the tallest out of all of them. He—it, whatever—radiated power and control. He's probably the leader. "—leader of the Autobots."

"So that means," I trailed off my question. He didn't really answer my question.

"We won't squish you, femme," the gruff voice of the black Autobot next to Optimus. This one was freaking scarier than the one that called me weak. On top of that he was decked out with fancy looking arms and artillery.

"My Weapons Specialists. Designation: Ironhide."

"That explains all the guns and canons," I muttered looking up at the giant bot. He looked smug about his title. Had to give him props, though. He must be proud to show off his guns.

"My Medical Officers. Designation: Ratchet."

"If you would allow, I could bandage you right up," the greenish bot grumpy, but calming voice suggested.

"Um, sure."

"You already met Bumblebee. He is the guardian of Sam Witwicky."

"Chubby Sam?" I raised a brow at Mikaela feeling my fear of being a guinea pig to giant robots drift away.

"Yeah," 'Kaela snort glancing at the boy not to far behind her.

"Hey! I'm right here! I can hear you."

"Sorry to interrupt," a solider, whose name tag said Captain W. Lennox, came up in between the bots and us along with a black by the name of R. Epps, "but, we've gotta clear out now that big boy's down and get you debriefed and tended to. Let's move out."

"Autobots, Let's roll," Optimus commanded.

I hadn't expected anything to happen. But when the sounds of metal clanking together along with the groans and hisses of the bots caught my attention, they'd transformed—literally—into cars and trucks and not your everyday ones either. Optimus was a blue Peter-built semi with red and orange flames. Bumblebee, who was parked on the back of Optimus, was a 2010 Chevrolet Camero with the sleek paint job that resembled...well...a bumblebee. Ironhide's look radiated dominance when I looked at him. He was a black GMC Topkick. Ratchet was a green and yellow H2 search and reduce vehicle. Watching the transformation was awing and weird in a way. I wondered how something that big could shift into something as small as a these cars. I'll yell you one thing trying to figure that out would probably be a piece of work.

Work! Crap! My mom! I'm late!

A/N: okay I know this isn't the first chapter I put up but I wanted to do what everyone said and try something different. Tell me what you think in a review. I promise not to be so pissy.

-Squid:)