1) This was the fic I spoke about in my newest fic. It is a 100-theme challenge, but since I can't really do drabbles, I decided to just base the chapters off of it (I didn't really go into depth on the rules). This is from List 1, and updates will be frequent. Once I write a chapter, I will immediately up it up. My goal is to finish this before summer ends (quite the challenge), so enjoy.

2) This is dedicated to Thebookfan09, Leonixon, and Cairistona. All three have helped me through some tough times, and I feel the need to thank them for that in the best way I can.

3) Last but not least, I am writing this for all of you who are on this site because of the support, the friendships, and the understanding that only those in a fandom can give. I am writing this for those of you who wanted to meet Optimus Prime, who wanted to banter with Ratchet, and wanted to watch Sunny and Sides fight. I am writing this for those of you who, like me, feel that this site has helped you become who you are. No matter where i am in my writing career, i can always come back here and know I'll get welcoming words and positive reviews. I know that I can bring smiles to your faces, and I know that you people like what I do. So this is for all of you who supported me as I learned all I needed to. Thanks, guys.

4) No, this isn't S&M or anything remotely like it. No [Optimus/OC] action. This isn't like anything I have ever written. I'm trying to branch out :)

5) a penny for anyone who reports any typos or grammar mistakes. I started this in third person, then switched to first. The girl's name isn't mentioned much because I wanted you, the reader, to have the ability to ride in the driver's seat. I want you to be able to be the main character, because I secretly wish I was. :)

Introduction

1,940 words

He had been a gift, a birthday present to myself that my parents would have never purchased for me. "A waste of good money" was what my mother called him, and "a useless hunk of plastic that would remain useless" was how my father described him. That didn't keep me from using seven hundred of my well-earned dollars to buy him. I didn't regret that purchase either. Nothing could describe the excitement, the hope, the relief I felt when I received the package from Persobots Incorporated, and I could barely contain myself as I freed him from his packaging.

"My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, and it is my duty to keep you safe from the rule of the evil Decepticons." Those were the first words from his tiny vocal processor, and they were followed by a request for my name. I obeyed without hesitation, smiling at the small robot as I finalized the procedure that made this Optimus Prime mine forever.

Personal – pronounced like the word "personality" – robots were a new form of technology that Microsoft, Apple, Intel, and multiple other big-name corporations had come together to form. The small robot in my hands learned from experience and adapted to his surroundings, much like Sonny from iRobot, and it was widely accepted that that was the movie from which an unknown at Microsoft had gleaned the idea of personal robots for all ages. Like in the movie, there were a series of rules programmed in to ensure human safety, but I hadn't focused much on those things.

The thing that made me buy one was the fact that once a Personal robot's package was opened and the Personal "imprinted" on a person, it would only belong to that one person. It wasn't the kind of toy that could be thrown away. It essentially became your life-long companion, changing roles as it adapted to your lifestyle as you continued to grow up.

The Personal: Transformers edition was the first to come out, Optimus Prime being the only Personal robot available at the moment. Hasbro had just concluded the second season of Transformers: Prime and was more than happy to partner up with the new Persobots Incorporated to design the first wave of Personals. Optimus Prime had naturally been the first choice to design, followed closely by Bumblebee. However, once more companies got involved, Bumblebee's design and production was pushed aside to make room for Ironman, an array of fairies with changeable clothes and working wings, and Superman.

On September 14, 2012, Optimus Prime was introduced to the world as the first Personal robot, and he was currently the only model available, which was why he had been so expensive. I was hooked the second I saw the commercial advertising it. How could I resist when Optimus Prime had spoken about his own great attributes, attributes that would be programmed into the robot I planned to buy. The warnings and rebukes of my parents had been unable to hold me back, so excited was I! The idea of having Optimus Prime chatting with me every day, basically being my personal assistant, had been too enticing to resist, so I had "blown my money" on purchasing one.

"Salutations. It is an honor to be in your service. For the rest of this configuration, I will be imprinting on your vocal patterns and facial features, so as you answer my questions, hold me back, tilt me so that my optics focus on your face, and be sure to speak clearly."

I was quick to obey, holding him an arm's length away and making certain his optics lined up with mine. I didn't want to chance him chasing after a stranger we passed because he misread my facial features. His optics flashed bright blue before returning to their normal dim color, and I blinked in surprise. Was that all? Surely he would need to do more than just take a picture.

"Thank you. Now, vocally select your reason for purchase: toy, personal assistant, companion, tutor, other."

"Companion," I responded without hesitation, shoving all my confusion aside as I caught up with him in the imprinting process. Companionship had been why I bought him. I idolized Optimus Prime rather fiercely. He was everything I wanted in a man, all I needed in a friend. He was loyal and kind, and he didn't judge. He supported the people around him and gave fantastic advice. His amazing voice was just an added bonus. It was why I loved writing him so much: he was such a good person and a truly amazing friend. And I dearly needed a friend.

"Selected: Companionship. Is this correct?"

"Yes," I replied to his monotone questioned.

"Announce age."

"Eighteen," I responded, grinning at the fact that I could finally claim to be a legal adult. True, I wasn't technically free to do whatever I wanted until I graduated high school and started college, but I was still proud of how far I'd come without doing drugs, getting involved in gangs, or other such horror stories her mother told her.

"If lost, what address should I return or request to be shipped to?" I gave him my address, carefully pronouncing each word and number. Each Personal had a GPS installed and maintained the ability to return home if need be. The Personal repeated my address to me, and I quickly confirmed his response. "Very well. You have received a personal communication device that allows me to text, FaceTime, and call you, and vice versa. This device was made by Apple Incorporated, and Apple Incorporated retains its rights. Any attempts to copy, sell, or otherwise misuse this device will result in a fine and up to five years in prison. You may now set me down as I finish downloading and calibrating."

Wow. I hadn't been expecting a warning like that, but I supposed it only made sense. Big companies like the ones that made my Personal would need such protect ion. I blinked idly as I set him on my computer desk and sat in the swivel chair in front of it. My eyes remained locked with his as I reached to the side and grabbed the ponytail holder that I had discarded there last night. He remained still, his face completely blank. Not that I was sure that he showed emotion. After all he was a robot… And on top of that, his mouth guard would hide his smile – if he even had a mouth. I had always been a G1 fan, and I was unsurprised by Hasbro's decision to use Generation One Optimus Prime as their Personal model. He was the most well-known.

"I am nearly done with my downloads. Do you need to hear my care instructions?" the little Personal asked, startling me at the abruptness of his voice. I straightened a little in my chair as I wrapped my shoulder-length blonde hair in a messy bun. I crossed my legs Indian-style in the chair and leaned forward with my elbows on my knees.

"Yes," I responded, grimacing a little at the fact that I hadn't even glanced at the instruction booklet he came with. I had always been the type to teach myself how to use a piece of technology rather than get confused and frustrated by the instructions. Of course, I had never had a piece of technology as advanced as my Optimus Prime was.

"Very well. I run on rechargeable batteries that are recharged by shutdown. During my shutdown, I will be awakened only by loud noises or unfamiliar bio-signatures. I need to be given a sink-full of water once a week to wash out my own joints. If I am broken, please contact your local Personal repairer. Personal preferences may be integrated into my central programming as I adapt to your lifestyle."

I stared at him as he went quiet, waiting impatiently for what would come next. We were reaching the most exciting part of the procedure, the moment when his programming would fully activate and we would interact truly for the first time ever. The robot remained still, though, the only change being the dimming of his eyes. I frowned a little. There had been a notice on the commercial that stated that Persobots Incorporated was still working out some of the bugs in the Personal's programming. Failed startup wasn't one of those bugs, was it? My frown deepened at that thought. I had waited for a good month to finally receive my Optimus Prime in the mail… I didn't want to send him back already. My concerns were cut short when the little robot stiffened, proclaiming loudly that his downloads were complete.

The next moments were pure magic. Optimus Prime suddenly started moving, his movements as fluid as a human's. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot as if trying to loosen muscles and increase blood flow. Once he was finished, he blinked a few times, delicate optics shutters flicking down and back up, and his bright blue optics locked with mine. We stared at each other for a few minutes, the fourteen-inch robot gazing at me solemnly. It was the exact gaze I had always envisioned him having: one that seemed to pierce your eyes to see into your very soul. Finally, I could take the silence no longer.

"Hi," I whispered with a huge smile, pulling my knees up to my chest as I leaned forward in my swivel chair. The robot's optics brightened, and I wondered if he was smiling back. It would take a while, I knew, to learn what all his facial changes meant. As I studied him, I could see the corners of his optics crinkle a little bit, and I marveled inwardly at the amazing craftsmanship.

"Greetings, Commander," he responded, his voice holding a teasing tone that I hadn't expected. Still, I frowned at his statement.

"I'm not really 'Commander' material, and I'm definitely not good enough to work side-by-side with you," I negated evenly. Truth be told, I wasn't sure any human could feasibly work beside G1 Optimus Prime. He was just too… perfect. That was why nobody like Rodimus: because he wasn't perfect like Optimus was. Little Optimus matched my frown, though, with dimmed optics and furrowed optic ridges. I had to fight back a grin at that. Only a true Transformers fanfiction writer or fan would know what those were called.

"Perhaps another name, then. In my culture, an adult can have his or her designation changed by a high-ranking individual." He gave me a strangely teasing look. "And I believe I fit that description. Of course, I can call you by your given name, if you so desire. Marie it was?"

"No, no. I'd like it if you gave me a name," I argued, wincing when he said my name. I hated my name. It meant "sea of bitterness." I've always felt such a name only set me up for failure. "Maybe in a few days, after you get to know me, you can come up with something. For now, call me 'Tex.' It's a boyish name, but all my penpals call me that."

"Ah, yes. Because of your home state," he noted. "Very well. It is a pleasure to be in your acquaintance, Private Tex." I grinned at the added military "rank" and shook my head in exasperation. Obviously, he wasn't going to drop that. No matter… I found that I didn't mind being considered a part of his Autobot army. I had my Optimus Prime, my friend. That was all I needed.

So... who else wants a Personal: Transformers - Optimus Prime? *raises hand*