A/N: Thanks for the reviews.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I want to see the next movie and I will but I do not own.
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The flashing of the light blinked on and off ever second on the hour as the clock on the VCR continued to mock the sleeping boy. The teenager was curled up next to a box of tools, a blanket draped on his curled up form. There was a bit of drool leaking from his mouth.
"Awwww..." Judy gazed upon her sleeping son, practically glowing with happiness. "Isn't he so cute?"
Ron, on the other hand, did not share his wife's enthusiasm. "He's going to be late for class." He pointed out dryly looking at his watch.
Judy didn't seem to hear her husband, continuing to gush. "Look Ron, he worked so hard trying to get the VCR to stop blinking." She sighed happily.
"He's going to be late for class."
"That is true." Judy finally started to tune in. "Let's wake him up then."
Ron and Judy placed their ear plugs firmly in their ears before turning the radio on. The loud metal song blasted out from the speakers, making small objects vibrate. Sam jumped up like a cat with his tail on fire, whirling around to find the source of noise. The radio clicked off.
Ron indicated to his watch. "You're going to be late."
Sam groaned, rubbing his ears with his fingers, trying to get the ringing out of his head before he raced up the stairs to his room.
"This was a wonderful plan." Ron said as he heard the loud thuds as their son rushed to get ready for school. "But why metal?"
Judy merely smiled. "I know what he likes and what he dislikes."
Sam rushed down the stairs, putting his backpack on and going out the front door.
"You really should let him get a car."
Ron shrugged. "Maybe. First car is a lot of responsibility." Instantly thoughts of a car funeral came into his mind.
"You have been teaching him how to fix one. Sam practically knows how to take a car apart and put it back together." Judy said reminding Ron of all the summer bonding sessions. "I'm surprised he hadn't yet found a wrecked car and decide to fix it."
Ron shuddered. "No. You're right. My son isn't going to get a wrecked car. He's going to get his first car, today in fact." Wrecked cars tend to be harder to fix and he was not going to dig a grave for a huge car. His lawn just get fertilized and everything!
He started for the phone books. Time to find the cheapest used car salesman he can find.
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Sam biked hard and fast, pumping his legs as quickly as he could. He took the short cuts, his modified bike taken the bumps and the dips in the road quiet nicely. Small barks resounded from his backpack, said backpack wiggling and shuddering. "Quiet Spike." He was almost there.
He biked up the small hill, riding the last block down, speed picking up tremendously as he slid into the parking lot, dodging a few cars before stopping at the bike racks. Sam dismounted, locking his bike up before racing into the school. He slid into his chair with seconds to spare before the school bell buzzed, announcing the start of the day.
The hours past, causing the majority of the class to wilt like a plant under the hot noon soon.
"And now Sam Witwicky.." The teacher sounded bored, resigned and the way he butchered Sam's name didn't help.
Sam stood going to the front of the class. He looked at the other children and coughed. "Uh...today for this assignment I brought with me Mojo." He clapped his hands.
"Sam you do know you can't bring animals into class." Droned the teacher.
"It's not an animal sir." The whole class watched as Sam's bag wiggled, gasping as the small metallic creature climbed out and started to walk towards Sam.
The toy walked to Sam, slowly standing on its hind legs as it pawed at his jeans. "Bark. Bark."
"That looks more like a toy you bought last second." The teacher indicated to the paper. "The assignment specifically asked for something from home not from a Wall-Mart, also it has to be something important not some toy."
The class snickered, a few of the kids were laughing. A spitball smacked Sam right in the face. He reminded himself that the human children were like sparklings, they are to be tolerated.
"Hey. HEY!" The balding teacher glared at the class. "No throwing or spitting objects in the class. Do it again and you're all going to go to detention. Yes all of you. I have enough slips here." Damn kids.
"I made it a few years ago. I even brought the design specifications." He took them from the folder he brought with him, handing his teacher one of them.
The teacher took the paper, mentally wondering why Sector Seven wanted him to be here. This town was as boring as it's name. As he looked at the paper, not really caring, his eyes widened. The design before him was not the work of a child. Even he, an engineer with a Masters from MIT, could barely follow where the intricate parts started or ended. What he did recognize was the symbols on the bottom of the page. He knew those symbols. Those symbols were like the ones on the Cube.
He looked up at Sam. "I need to see you after class young man." Where did Sam get these papers? "Sit down."
"Ohhh." Trent, the jock, the constant bully in Sam's life. "You're in trouble."
Sam scooped up Mojo and walked back to his seat, dejected. He didn't steal Mojo. Maybe Spike was right, he should've just brought a blanket or something. Even those glasses might've been better. He didn't even get to do his presentation either.
After class, Sam and the teacher were the only ones left in the classroom.
"Sam, where did you get this?" He indicated to the paper. "Did you steal it from somewhere?"
"No." Indignation rose, coloring the boy's cheeks red. "I drew it up. Promise."
The teacher stared at Sam before placing a blank piece of paper in front of him. "Then prove it."
Sam sighed and started to redraw the design specs, starting with the framework. "Wait." The teacher indicated to the bottom parts of the design specs. "Do those first and make new ones."
He started again, making modifications to the old design. On the sides he wrote side notes to himself about what to change, not in English of course. He could feel the teacher's gaze focus on what he was writing.
"Stop." Sam looked up, the teacher was practically shivering in happiness. The paper was taken from him and placed into the teacher's bag. "You may go now."
Sam stood, picking up his backpack and Mojo. "Do I get the points for the assignment?"
"Hmm?" The teacher was in a world of his own. "Oh. Yes. Yes." He looked at Sam and then at the dog. "Do you mind if I borrow that?"
Sam's grip tightened. "I do." He stared at the teacher for a few seconds before looking away. "Sir I gotta go. My dad's picking me up." He looked at the teacher uncertain before darting away.
Sam walked out of the school and towards his caretaker's car. "That was weird." He muttered, still quite confused.
"Teachers are weird Sam." Mojo responded. "It's a universal constant."
"I dunno Spike." Sam quite remembered the odd look in the teacher's eyes and the reverence as he held the design specs.
He neared the car and climbed in. "Hey Dad." He placed his backpack and Spike in the back.
"How was school?" The car was turned on as Ron drove off and into the city.
"It was cool." Son and father stayed silent during the car ride.
"Where are we going?" He noticed that they were not taking the usual route back to their place of dwelling. "Did Mom kick you out of the house?"
"What?" Ron swerved in surprise. "What? No. No." He rolled his eyes. "For the last time, your mother and I are still very happily married and we are not going to drag you into a custody fight." He took a second to look at his son. "Where are you getting these ideas?"
"Internet."
"Unhuh." Ron parked the car and sighed. "Son, let me reassure you. If your mother and I were to get divorced, God hope not, the only thing I'll fight for is the lawn." Sam stared at his caretaker blankly, not getting the joke.
Seeing how Sam wasn't laughing, Ron dropped the conversation and got out of the car. "Kids these days." He muttered to himself.
"That was funny." Spike laughed, yipping softly in the back.
Sam ignored it and got out of the car as well. "What are we doing here?" There was nothing but empty streets, buildings and a car lot.
"We're getting you a car." Ron started for the car lot. "Remember your allowance?"
Sam nodded. Money he got for doing chores, not taking apart kitchen appliances, helping his father with the lawn.
"Well I decided that instead of giving you an allowance for the next three years, I'm going to get you a car." Ron arrived at the used car dealership. "This doesn't mean you're not going to do the chores. It just means you're going to be in debt."
Sam raised both eyebrows. "That doesn't seem fair." He pointed out, calculating the amount of chores it would take to repay his father for getting him a car.
Ron chuckled and patted his son on the back. "Don't worry I'm sure there are ways you can pay me back. Besides it's your first car. I'm only going to spend about four thousand dollars. The gas and maintenance are up to you." Yes Ron as a cheapskate and that was why they were here, at a dingy small car dealership. Not at a reputable car dealership or one that had used cars more than ten thousand.
As Ron talked to the owner, Sam wandered off to the car lot, to find a car that would last him a few years. He walked slowly, examining the dusty cars, hearing nothing from the empty husks of machinery. He could still remember the feeling of warmth, the humming of a spark. His home was so far from here and so alive compared to this ball of dust.
His hand left behind a clean streak on the dusty car hoods. He scanned the area before setting his sights on a yellow beat up camero. Sam could hear arguing, his father was trying to strike up a deal with the owner of this establishment. But as he walked closer to the camero all background noise ceased to exist. He opened the door and slipped in, sitting on the leather seats. His hand touched the steering wheel, brushing away the layer of dirt. He traced the symbol in the middle of the steering wheel.
He felt so warm here, relaxed and so calm. Sam looked up, and saw the little bumblebee freshener. "Bumblebee." He whispered, slipping into a trance like state.
It felt like home.
"Hey!" A hand rapped on the glass. "You can't sleep in there. It isn't your car yet."
Sam blinked at the owner owlishly before climbing out of the car. "How much?" He wanted the car.
"Six thousand."
"WHAT?" Ron waved his arms. "For this hunk of junk?"
"DAD!" Sam felt he should protest for the car. "It's not just a hunk of junk. It.." It feels like home.
"Five thousand." The owner wasn't going to budge.
"Sam maybe another car. That one looks pretty nice." The car to Bumblebee's left was dingy. "And that one has a fresh coat of paint." The car to Bumblebee's right had scratches on it.
Sam sighed. "But Dad..." He really wanted the yellow camero.
"I'm not going to spend more than four thousand Sam and you know that." Yes Sam knew how stingy and cheap his caretaker was.
Sam took a last glance at the camero before he started to walk away. Maybe next time. It felt like his spark was being ripped out as he walked further and further away from the car. Ron noticed how despondent his son looked and bit his lip. Maybe just this once he could....
Before his thoughts were finished a loud siren assaulted his ears, blasting all the windows into pieces. Both father and son turned around, staring at the devastation. There was shattered glass everywhere. The camero was the only car with all its windows intact. It almost looked liked an innocent child.
"Sparkling." Sam murmured to himself softly, smiling. That was the feeling he was getting, the unbridled energy of a sparkling. A child.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost see the bright ball of light that was the soul of a child.
"Four thousand." The owner looked shaken, disturbed. "Take it."
Ron stared at the man, not believing it but he took it. A deal was a deal and this was a good deal.
Sam walked to the car, settling in the driver's seat. The ignition key was there, it wasn't before, and Sam smirked. He always did like children.
He placed the key into the ignition and turned. The car purred. Sam placed his hands on the steering wheel, sensing the power that coursed through the car.
"Hello little Bee." Talking to a car was a sign of being crazy but Sam didn't care. He never did care what others thought of him. "I think I'll call you that, Bumblebee. It's a nice name."
He drove the car off the lots, following his caretaker's vehicle. Immediately he noticed the difference between the two cars, the spark of life in Bumblebee made him tingle all over. He missed this feeling, his own body was miles away and this human body that he possessed could not house his power.
The Allspark missed his home. It was time to go back. And this Sparkling was going to help him.
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A/N: And there you have it. Bumblebee....and an agent of Sector Seven.