AN: Hello! Welcome to my collection of one-shot Movieverse stories, most of which are from the Transformers Random Pairing generator! So… a collection of one-shots I say? What makes this any different from any other collection? How about the fact that the president meets the bots!? Simmons meets the Twins!? Ironhide still loves shooting Cons!? Scorponok's dug his way through Earth's crust to reach Nevada!? Whatever your fancy, as long as the generator can think it, it can be done!

And the real author's note: The first seven chapters were written a year ago when I was first introduced to Transformers. If you see a decline in quality in my writing from my other stories, then that is the reason why. Also, all the one-shots happen in the same storyline even if they aren't in chronological order. If I missed anything, I will (eventually) remember and tell you as soon as I can via these handy Author's Notes. Enjoy the stories!

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Meeting the President

The president walked out of his private jet that landed in an abandoned airstrip in the middle of the Nevada Desert. Standing on the airstrip was the Secretary of Defense, John Keller, waiting to debrief the president on the situation of the alien robots.

"Hello, John," The president greeted.

"Hello, Mr. President," Keller said. He turned toward a government-issued SUV, motioning for the president to go ahead of him. They fell into step beside on another.

"So, Keller," the president said. "What is the situation on the alien robots? Who's in control of them? What species managed to create machines like that?" Keller sighed.

"Mr. President, they were not created by anyone…" Keller whispered.

"What was that?"

"I'll explain in the car."

They reached the SUV and Keller opened the door for the president. They both climbed inside and strapped themselves in. The driver started the car and they headed toward the road.

"So what do you mean by 'they weren't created by anyone'?" The president asked.

"From my experiences, they are not just simple, death machines." Keller looked the president in the eye and said very seriously. "They are alive. They can think on their own, feel emotions and pain in equal amounts, and are not just machines. They are people and deserve every ounce of respect and courtesy we could ever possibly give."

"But they're robots…" The president said uncertainly.

"But they're much more than that," Keller replied. "You will see when we go and meet them. Their leader, I found, is a very patient and wise man–uh, mech."

"We'll see…" The president said. No other words were exchanged between them as the SUV continued down the road into the Nevada desert.

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They reached an old, abandoned military base that was in desperate need of repairs. It was the only place that Keller could give the Autobots without having to usurp soldiers already living inside. They had said it would do and that they had had to build bases with even less material before; some had been built from scratch and were located in a ditch.

Outside one of the larger airplane hangers were four vehicles: a red and blue flamed semi truck, a GMC Topkick, a Search and Rescue H2 Hummer, and a 2009 Chevy Camaro. What struck the president as odd was the presence of several humans, a few of them teenagers, near, and in some cases on, the cars. A brown-haired, slightly lanky teenager in faded jeans and a 'Shockers' sweatshirt, was standing near the Camaro. Standing next to him was a very pretty girl with wavy, black hair, and wore a fitted, light blue shirt and a short jean skirt. They were talking to another teenager who sat lazily on the hood of the Camaro. He had blond hair with two black stripes in his hair over his ears. He wore a pair of blue jeans and yellow sweatshirt with black sleeves, a frowning bumblebee with the slogan 'Bee-otch' beneath it on one sleeve, a black front pocket, and two black stripes that went from his right shoulder to his left hip.

A man, probably in his mid-forties, his shoulder leaning on the GMC Topkick with his arms crossed, was looking at nothing in particular. He wore a simple black t-shirt that did nothing to hide his bulging muscles and a pair of dark slacks. His sliver hair was tied back in a ponytail and he had a small beard growing on his face. He wore an expression that said quite clearly, "Don't bother me."

With his back leaning on the Hummer was a brown-haired man, also in his mid-forties, with a small goatee and a pair of glasses. He wore a light brown jacket over a red shirt with a white medical cross over it and a wrench could be seen poking out of a pocket on his jeans. He was looking up and talking to a, HELLO, BLUE-haired man.

The blue-haired man was sitting cross-legged on the roof of the semi's cab, looking down at the brown haired man. He wore a blue jacket with a red flame pattern similar to the truck he was sitting on over a plain white t-shirt and simple blue jeans. He looked about thirty-five years old and his calm and patient expression broadcasted that here was a man who had seen everything in life and knew how to handle it.

When the SUV pulled up several feet from the assembled cars, everyone stopped talking and looked at the car. A door opened and the president walked out, soon followed by Keller. They were both used to the stares of other people as they exited a vehicle, but the driver didn't have that kind of experience. He shuffled his feet as he stood by the car, waiting patiently.

"Hello, Mr. Secretary," The blue-haired man said, still seated on top of the semi. He raised his hand in greeting.

"Hello," The two men by the Hummer and the Topkick said in unison.

"Hi," the brown-haired boy and girl said. The boy on the Camaro just smiled and waved.

Keller walked forward smiling and raising his hand in greeting. "Hello, Sam, Mikaela, I hope you both are doing well!"

"As good as we could be considering who we hang out with!" The girl, Mikaela, laughed.

"Yeah! I'm actually surprised that we're not dead yet." The boy, Sam, laughed. He motioned toward the teenager sitting on the Camaro's hood. "He hasn't squished us yet! All hail Primus!" He through up his hands and pretended to bow to some higher power.

The blond teen pretended to look deeply offended. He scoffed and spun around with his back to Sam, though he had a large grin on his face. "I kid, I kid!" Sam said hastily.

"How are the rest of you? I hope you are enjoying your stay, even though this was the best we could give at the moment." Keller said addressing the three adults and the blond teen.

The teen smiled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say 'Hey, man, there's no trouble!'

"Well," The silver haired man said. "It needs a lot of work and repair, but we've seen worse." His voice was gruff and had the feel of a battle-hardened soldier behind it.

"We are quite comfortable here." The brown haired man said. "Now, if I were allowed to build a med bay–" He put a lot of emphasis on the last two words and glared pointedly up at the blue-haired man on the semi, who pretended not to notice, "–things would be perfect."

The silver haired man rolled his eyes, "Yeah, that'll be the day! When you get a med bay, none of us are going to want to be in the same base." The brown-haired man glared at him. "Watch it," The brown-haired man said. "Or you can pay during your next tune-up." The silver-haired man just grunted and turned back to the Topkick.

Keller cleared his throat to get the arguing men's attention. They turned to him. "Now that I have your attention," He motioned respectfully to the president behind him, who had been patient when Keller had talked. "I would like to introduce the President of the United States of America."

The president walked forward. "Hello," He said politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you." He held out his hand. The brown-haired boy, Sam, walked forward and shook his hand.

"Hi, Mr. President!" He said. "Nice to meet you, I'm Sam Witwicky and this is my girlfriend, Mikaela Banes." He indicated the girl next to him. "Hello," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine." He said, bowing slightly to her. "How did two teenagers, such as yourselves, get caught up in all of this trouble? Surely you shouldn't be hanging out with alien robots?" Sam just smiled.

"By human law," Sam said, smiling mischievously. "I own one of those alien robots. I bought him for four-thousand dollars at a discount dealership." Mikaela smiled and punched him lightly in the arm. "Shut up, you," She said smiling. "You didn't even know who he was when you bought him." Sam smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head.

"So," The president said. "Who are your friends and where are the alien robots?" He looked around as though he was going to spot one of the alien robots he had heard so much about.

"The aliens are right here." Keller said. He motioned to the assembled cars and the people situated next to them.

"Tell me you're kidding, Keller." The president said his hands on his hips. "I thought that the robots were giant-sized."

"Oh, you'll see…" Keller said with a small mischievous grin. The president turned back to the assembled people. He decided to play along, for now.

"Which one of you is the alien leader?" The president asked.

"I am." The blue-haired man said. That was almost too obvious. The president thought. The blue-haired man jumped off of the semi and landed lightly on the ground. He walked to the president. The president noticed that the blue-haired man had oddly glowing bright blue eyes. No human had eyes like that and if they did, they weren't natural.

"Pleased to meet you," The president said. He raised his hand and the blue-haired man shook it.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. President," The blue-haired man said. They stopped shaking hands and the president looked over the leader of the alien machines. "What is your name?" He asked. The blue-haired man smiled.

"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots." He introduced himself. The other three aliens had walked to stand behind their leader. The president could tell that they were all aliens because their eyes were all glowing similar shades of blue. "These are my men," He said.

The silver haired man stepped forward. "My weapons specialist: Ironhide." Optimus Prime said. Ironhide nodded his head slightly and stepped back, not saying anything.

The brown haired man stepped forward. "Our Chief Medical Officer: Ratchet."

"Hello Mr. President," Ratchet said. "You appear to be in optimal health. My scans show no problems or glitches in your various biological systems." The president decided not to comment on that statement. Ratchet stepped back.

The blond teen stepped forward. "Our best scout, spy, and saboteur-in-training: Bumblebee."

The teenager threw his hands up in the air and 'said,' "Check on the rep, yep, second to none!" The radio song lyric excerpt was slightly garbled and had static in the background. The president jumped slightly.

"What happened to your voice?" He asked concerned. Bumblebee shrugged and pointed to Ratchet, who sighed and started to explain. "Bumblebee's vocal processor was damaged in battle a long time ago. It was nearly shattered beyond repair, but Bumblebee found other ways to communicate with us, namely using different sound bites in his CPU to convey different meanings. When we landed here, he started using your radio waves to transmit more complex meanings since we arrived. His vocal processor has been partially repaired, though, thanks to his internal repair system and the Allspark's power. Now while it repairs fully, Bumblebee will still be using the radio, however he could use his voice if he wants to." Bumblebee nodded vigorously in agreement and stepped back in the line behind his leader.

"Well," the president said smiling. "It is nice to meet all of you." Keller smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Now that all introductions are out of the way, Mr. President, would you like to go inside the human areas? We can talk to all of the Autobots inside." They both walked into the hanger, Sam and Mikeala, who had watched the introductions quietly and patiently, followed suit.
The president didn't notice the cars move by themselves into the hanger and park themselves comfortably in the back.