Yes, yes, I know. I really ought to get on with my other stories but, I've had this written down for months and I've figured why not put it up. Anyway I was watching Revenge of the Fallen and I wanna know, am I the only one who wants to know where Frankie the Bulldog came from?
And Lo behold "Can we keep him?" was born.
Disclaimer: Oh yeah, a teenaged girl TOTALLY owns a multi-million dollar franchise.
Samuel James Witwicky had a problem.
Not just any problem, but a problem that would make Megatron coming back from the dead and wanting to slice his head open seem like a miracle from God or Primus himself.
"Not like that could ever happen." Thought Sam darkly.
No, this was huge problem.
Sure, telling his parents about the Autobots, the Mission City battle and how 'Judy Witwicky's precious baby Sammy' had risked his life to bring down probably THE most feared and deadly organism in the universe was pretty intimidating.
In reality, they had taken it rather well. Judy had threatened Will Lennox, Robert Epps, the Government agents and had even promised a few threats to Optimus Prime. Most of which had made all the Autobots cringe. (Sam didn't even know you could do that with a baseball bat and a lemon.) Ron, on the other hand, had only asked for his garden to be restored to its former glory. Even when it had been made clear that his awesome car/ sentient robot/ guardian/ best friend would be staying with them was accepted.
But this… this just took the cake.
And ate said cake with an Optimus sized amount of gutso.
Sam sighed and let a hand run through his brown hair. Bumblebee would be getting worried about him. He was only supposed to go for a two minute walk down the road to feed his neighbour's pet cat while they were away.
Sam looked down and instantly regretted it. Innocent, brown eyes gazed back up at him. They sent pity shooting straight into his very soul.
Take me home with you! Please! They pleaded.
Sam stared back.
He shouldn't.
He had Mojo.
He had his parents, his girlfriend and his best friend to consider.
He shouldn't do it.
He Would Not Do It.
…But to Mikaela's and Bumblebee's delight, Sam was a sucker for puppy eyes. The naïve, soft brown eyes gazing at him certainly qualified as puppy eyes.
"Why me?" thought Sam.
He bent down and scoped up the stocky creature. It snuggled into his chest as he cradled it in his arms.
Just how he was going to explain to his parents and his car about the adorable black and white Bulldog he had brought with was nobody's business. Sam trembled internally at the reaction from his mother as continued walking home.
"Sam! There you ar… What are you carrying?" Bumblebee questioned as Sam walked up the drive way. Sam sighed.
"Listen, Bee, I'll explain soon?"
"Sammy, is that you? What Are You Doing Carrying That Thing?" shrieked his Mother, standing on the porch.
Sam panicked and spat out the first words he thought of as he faced the red-faced woman that was his mother, Judy Witwicky.
"It followed me home Mom, I swear!"
Judy looked at her nervous son with a black and white bulldog cradled contently in his arms, while Sam shifted his weight from one foot to another in front of Bumblebee.
Judy just stared at the bulldog.
Sam shifted his weight again.
The Bulldog curled even more into Sam's arms.
An eerie silence settled over the yard of the Witwicky residence.
Complete and utter… silence.
Well, at least until Bumblebee broke it with a couple of innocent radio sound bytes.
"AW! It's sooo cute! …. Can we keep it?"
Both Witwicky's just stared at the sentient, millennia old robot, which had just called a bulldog cute.
No offense to Bulldogs on that last line. I find them adorable myself, but honestly, wouldn't you stare if someone like Ironhide just called a dog cute.
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