Alright, if you've seen the movie, then you know what's coming next. As before there is a little AU here. Just a little extra to flesh the situation out. Hope its not too mushy. OK, by far this is the longest chapter yet, so hang in there. It was just that, once again, no convenient place to break it made itself known. I'll try to make sure the other ones don't get quite as long... unless everyone prefers long chapters. If anyone has a preference, please let me know.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The characters and events in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual Autobots or their human allies is coincidental and completely unintentional.

Optimus Prime adjusted his course at the last moment. He had scanned the landing area upon his approach, ensuring that he would land in a field a safe distance from any sentient life. The others might be able to avoid harming the humans, but he was well aware that with his larger mass, landing in cometary mode near any of their structures risked more damage than he considered acceptable.

The Autobot leader plowed into the ground and waited there for a moment to see if anyone had detected his presence. All that his sensors could identify was a few wild creatures running away as fast as possible. Though he was alone for the moment, Optimus knew his descent had been observed, it must have been. He only hoped he had not unduly frightened any of the locals.

If he waited too long however, he ran the risk of being discovered in his protoform. Until he knew more about this new planet, he did not want to risk that. Sending out another warning to his Autobots to avoid being seen in their native forms by the humans, Optimus scanned the area again. He was still alone.

With a slight hiss of escaping steam, he started the transformation from cometary form into protoform. Once complete, Optimus hurried away from the sight of his landing, knowing it was the logical place curious humans would start to look. He quickly scanned the surround area to confirm the other three members of his team were on the ground.

… … …

Ratchet scanned his landing site and made a minor course correction that would take him to a building uninhabited by any human. He had not intended to land in such a heavily populated area, but it was what it was. And it was far too late to choose another location without transforming out of cometary mode. He adjusted his angle of descent at exactly the right moment and skidded against the pavement just before crashing through the selected building to stab into the ground on the other side. The multiple impacts did not harm him, but they did serve the purpose of slowing his velocity sufficiently enough that he came to rest only a few meters past the empty building. For landing in such a heavily populated area, he was pleased to note he had harmed no one.

His landing had not gone unnoticed however, Ratchet realized. Before his exterior had even cooled sufficiently to allow transformation into his protoform, he could hear the wails of local alarms and emergency vehicles.

Just as he had the opportunity to change forms, he heard the indecipherable but clearly intelligent chatter of the local population. Humans, Bumblebee said they were called.

These humans have fast response times, for organics. He thought as he simultaneously transformed into his protoform and accessed the planetary data net Bumblebee had reported, downloaded and processed what he needed to translate their language.

And he did so just in time to hear one of the humans from the quickly growing crowd on the other side of the structure that hid him from their view exclaim, "There's something near the tree, dude!"

Smoke and the mangled wreckage of the building still shielded Autobot from humans. Or so he thought. Their visual perception is better than I anticipated. Ratchet rebuked himself for underestimating the humans, determined to do as detailed a scan on one as soon as possible so that he would have a better understanding of their functional abilities and limitations.

He quickly evaluated the vehicles in the area to find a guise before one of the unexpectedly perceptive organics could identify him, mindful of Optimus' exhortation. He wanted to avoid mass panic, well aware that such things spread rapidly among highly social organic species. Which these humans appeared to be.

And yet they flock to the scene of a potential danger as if it were some thing on display. Ratchet thought as he found a vehicle that looked intriguing as well as functional and utilitarian. Such contradictions. I do not know if it indicates courage or lack of intelligence.

He observed them for a moment longer as he transformed into a bright greenish yellow hummer retrofitted to be an ambulance, and realized that the majority of the humans were actively trying to douse the fires and salvage the building from the damage his entry had caused.

Damage control teams. Now I understand. As repair was Ratchet's chosen profession, he was often called on to do the same thing. It was a task he had grown tired of as the eons of war had stretched on. But the young scout's reports were encouraging. Perhaps the end of the war was in view. Perhaps, in the near future, the only repairs he would have to do would be from brainless accidents, not those injuries inflicted in battle. It was hope, where before there had been none.

But he had spent enough time pondering such things. Shifting into the appropriate gear and turning on the lights that were arrayed across his roof, Ratchet looked for the closest road that would take him to the pre-arranged coordinates. None of the humans questioned his presence or his hasty departure. One uniformed human even waved the bystanders back to allow his easier passage.

…

It was not until it was too late to make a major course correction that Ironhide realized that the area he was heading towards was residential and that there were no empty buildings available to shield his landing. It was not my fault, Ironhide grouched to himself, these flimsy human structures are so alien, how was I to know they contained life-forms until I was close enough to detect them? Even so, he knew that if he did nothing he would have many human deaths on his hands. That was unacceptable.

It left him with only one option. Optimus had been clear. Avoid directly causing harm to humans. Doing so was more important than maintaining their guise, even if the two might be closely linked at times.

Because no mere meteor would be capable of doing what he needed to do

He altered course enough to take him toward a structure with a relatively large, artificially constructed, liquid water containment area located nearby. Rotating, he cut on his propulsion system to slow his descent a sufficient amount to allow him to... well, plop into the pool. And with far less dignity than he would have preferred. But none of the structures were damaged and nor were any of their human occupants. Not a bad piece of maneuvering for someone who hates flying. The weapon's expert was proud of himself.

However, nothing less than half the water in the pool vaporized upon contact with his hot armor and in the few seconds that that same heat boiled it away. But that only cooled him sufficiently to transform almost immediately.

Ironhide accessed the primitive data stream to learn the human languages even as he stood.

And came face to face with an extremely young, female version of the indigenous life forms.

The girl just stared at him, neither evidencing fear nor disbelief.

Not knowing what else to do, Ironhide climbed out of the pool, steam rolling off his body. They are so slagging tiny, Ironhide thought, even if this one was the equivalent of a human sparkling. He stepped over her, careful not to step on her. She just stared, turning to follow him with her eyes.

Then she spoke. "Excuse me."

Ironhide turned back slightly at the polite inquiry, surprised to be directly addressed.

"Are you the Tooth-fairy?" She asked, cradling something in her hand, her head canted in a way Ironhide would never admit to anyone that he found rather endearing.

First contact with new species was not his strong suit. In fact, he was rather clumsy with it.

/Optimus,/ Ironhide sought counsel immediately. /A juvenile speaks to me. She does not seem afraid. But I am at a loss how to respond. What is a tooth-fairy?/

Optimus's reply was almost instantaneous. /Unknown. But humans rarely leave their juvenile offspring unattended for long. You are advised to leave the area quickly./

As if to prove his leader's point, Ironhide detected movement within the dwelling.

Wishing he could converse with the child who was standing unafraid – such a rare thing among organics – Ironhide made a hasty yet stealthy departure. He had just stepped around a nearby stand of tall shrubs when a new voice erupted from the house. A voice that was not so calm.

"Honey, what are you doing out here alone?" A pause. "Oh my goodness! What happened to the pool?"

Ironhide ducked down behind the vegetation and looked for some suitable vehicle. Something told him these humans would not respond favorably if they saw him. It was not a first impression he wanted to make on a new planet. He sighed as he looked around for an appropriate alt-form. Why me?

Thankfully, one was nearby – parked in front of the very house he had landed at. Within seconds, an exact duplicate idled in the driveway next to it.

/I am on my way./ He reported /I do not believe the human juvenile's biological progenitors are aware of my existence./

/Parents, Ironhide. They are called Parents. Sir./ Bumblebee interjected almost cheekily.

/Parents, then./ Ironhide grumbled back.

Curious to know what a tooth-fairy was, Ironhide accessed the so-called Internet once more. What he found made him chuckle and almost made his engine choke. His imaginative subroutines were having difficulty figuring out what similarities the young girl saw between him and a tiny lithe female with translucent wings. Interested to see what else these humans came up with, he did a very rapid perusal of the entirety of the video recordings available on the Internet. He found the ones dealing with a period of this continent's history called the Old West to be interesting, to say the least. They seemed to like their 'revolvers' as much as he did his cannons. Perhaps these humans did have some things in common with Cybertronians.

He wondered how such a cultural history could coexist with the mythos of the Tooth-fairy, however. An interesting species to say the least.

…

Meanwhile, Jazz had plowed into the exact center of Tranquility's football stadium, sending a fountain of carefully manicured grass into the air. Thankfully, there was no one in the stadium to see his landing even if it had been lit like a landing beacon. Completely unaware of the annoyance he had just caused the grounds keepers, Jazz assumed his protoform with admirable speed. He was pleased that of all the others besides Optimus, his landing would doubtless have the least impact on the humans.

Exiting the stadium by means of climbing over the stands, Jazz landed on he roof of a nearby car dealership.

The dealership was next door to the one Sam's father had teased his son with the previous day, though the Autobot had no way of knowing that.

Dropping to the ground in front of the showroom, Jazz considered the vehicles on display behind the glass, looking for one he could appropriate as his own alt-mode.

Convenient, he thought, though he was mindful of Bumblebee's warning about such places. Thankfully, it was nighttime and there were no humans about who might want to purchase him. He shuddered slightly at the thought.

He saw one rather nimble and sleek looking vehicle on a rotating platform. Clearly its designers were proud of their efforts with the little sports car. It was the only explanation for how prominently it was displayed.

An' they should be. Jazz took his time transcanning the gray Solstice. This one is quiet aesthetically pleasin'. E'en if it's rather primitive. I would'na' expected an organic race tah have such insight into artistic quality.

A moment later he transformed into an exact replica. A moment after that, he was speeding toward the rendezvous point with the others, remembering only as he neared the coordinates to download what he needed to understand the human's language. In doing so, he inadvertently learned about their music. An' I wasn't sure I'd like it here.

… … …

Satisfied that his colleagues were secure for the moment, Optimus turned to the task of securing his own terrestrial guise. One downside of choosing to land in a rather isolated area was the lack of vehicular traffic. He detected a road nearby and quietly made his way to it. Climbing a large bluff just adjacent to the road, he feared he would be seen. But he was high enough, he doubted many of the humans would see him. And if they did, his black protoform would blend in well with the night. It was the best he could do. Even so, he crouched in order to minimize his profile.

Several vehicles passed, but none of them would work with his considerably greater mass. He was beginning to doubt whether such a small race would even produce a vehicle large enough for him to mimic. Then a different sounding engine attracted his attention. He scanned the approaching vehicle, standing as his interest was piqued. It was gaudily painted blue with red flames. But the longer he considered it, the more began to like it. Powerful, yet non-confrontational in appearance. It was not a vehicle designed to wage war, but for work and labor.

And it was the only vehicle he had seen so far that he could mimic.

It suited. He liked it.

Evaluation and transcan happened in the passage of less than a handful of seconds. Before the semi had even passed him, Optimus was already transforming into a perfect copy of it, down to the microscopic and chemical properties of the paint.

He did not have to ask the others how they were doing, quick scans indicated they were already converging on the coordinates he had selected. Following his own orders, Optimus revved his alt-mode's sizeable engine and rolled toward the city. As he did so, Optimus accessed the plentiful data streams to learn about the culture he and the others suddenly found themselves immersed in. What he learned was fascinating, some of it was troubling, other parts were encouraging but all of it was educational.

As he turned into the city itself, he took a moment to appreciate the architecture. While unarguably simple, redundant and not as substantial or as esthetically pleasing as the buildings that comprised Cypertron's magnificent metropolises, it was a remarkable achievement for the race that did create it. And ample evidence of their intelligence. In reality, it was illogical to expect a soft-shelled, non metallic species to construct buildings that an Autobot would construct. Even so, the fact that their buildings were easily recognizable as such was an indication of possible similarities between their respective races. Bumblebee had reported other observations that reinforced that prospect. Optimus determined he would consider the issue more deeply and assigned several cognitive subroutines to the task.

Optimus turned down the road that would take him to the coordinates he had selected. His sensors detected that Bumblebee was already there and that the others were quickly approaching from the other direction. Ratchet had assumed the guise of one of the emergency vehicles that had responded to his landing site. Appropriate. Ironhide now appeared as a large black GMC Topkick, fitting, except there were no weapons mounted on it, which surprised Optimus. And Jazz… he now seemed to be nothing more than a flashy Solstice. The lithe little vehicle was a good match for the mech.

He turned his attention back to Bumblebee. Sure enough, two humans occupied Bumblebee's cabin. It must be an unusual sensation for the smaller Autobot and Optimus made a special note in the appropriate sub-file to commend Bumblebee for his dedication to duty.

Not that he expected anything less from the courageous scout.

He was still some distance away, but probably perceivable to the human's organic visual senses, when two figures emerged from within Bumblebee.

He could tell by their elevated heart rates and their expressions, which were in deed quiet expressive – more so than Cybertronian faces – that they both were more than a little scared. Therefore he was impressed when they actually moved to stand in front of Bumblebee as he approached. It indicated a level of trust, in Bumblebee at least, that he would not have expected in an organic organism, at least not this soon after a first encounter, and certainly not if their first experience was with Barricade.

It was obvious when they heard the others approach as they turned briefly. Oddly enough, they did not seem additionally concerned, though they must clearly realize they were out numbered. Optimus was further surprised when, as they looked back at him, they took a step away from Bumblebee.

Optimus slowed and then braked to a halt mere yards away from them.

He barely hesitated, flashing through all of the ways in which to proceed in less than a few nanoseconds of consideration. Bumblebee had said these two humans knew the truth and were willing to cooperate. Optimus saw no need to delay any further. With that he changed his shape, aware that both Sam and his female companion took a reflexive step backward. No more than that, however, even though Bumblebee had already moved away from them so that he could join the others in forming a circle around the two youths.

/They appear to be on the verge of entering temporary mental stasis./ Ironhide noted with some concern. /I doubt their parental units will be pleased if they go offline because of us. Research indicates human Creators can be fierce Guardians./

/Bumblebee is confident they will be able to handle this/. Optimus answered, slowly standing at his full height, stretching as metal plates slid into place. He was careful to keep the process slow so as not to startle the two humans.

/They should be./ Bumblebee confirmed, starting to transform himself.

Taking their cue from both Optimus and Bumblebee, the others also started to transform.

The two young humans pivoted around, watching all this unfold with uncontrolled amazement, their lower jaws slightly agape.

To their credit, neither seemed shaken any more than they already were, even after finding themselves surrounded by five mechanical life forms, the smallest of whom towered over them considerably. Nor had the two youth known any of them existed only a few hours previously, Optimus knew from Bumblebee. Biologic systems could either be remarkably resilient or stunningly fragile, Optimus reflected, pleased to see that humans seemed to be of the former type. At least these two humans.

Optimus lowered himself to one knee, resting one arm on his leg while placing the other on the ground. Even so, both humans still had to crane their necks to meet his gaze. Which they did, rather than fall on their faces as if confronting a deity. Another good sign. The Autobot considered both for a moment longer, comparing their respective anatomy to the data he had assimilated and then addressed himself to the male.

"Are you Samuel James Witwicky, descendant of Archibald Witwicky?" He was careful to lower the volume of his vocalization so as not to frighten or damage their aural apparatus.

"They know your name." The female whispered.

Sam was clearly as taken aback as she was, therefore Optimus did not expect Sam to step toward himwhen he delivered his answer. Then he understood, as nervous as he was, the boy was attempting to shield the female. "Yes."

Optimus smiled. "Greetings. My name is Optimus Prime. We are Autonomous Robotic Organisms from the planet Cybertron."

"But you can call us Autobots, for short." Ratchet interjected.

"Autobots." Sam echoed quietly, glancing up at Ratchet.

Optimus considered the two humans, noted how their stress hormones were steadily increasing. "First, understand: all sentient life is important. We will not harm humans."

"Uh… that's good to hear. Um, thank you."

Optimus was not sure if Samuel believed him, but he at least was not running the opposite direction. Nor had either of them lapsed into the temporary cognitive stasis as Ironhide had feared.

Optimus decided to continue the introductions. "This is…" he hesitated only a nanosecond as he searched for an appropriate human equivalent for Jazz's role in his command. "My first lieutenant, designation, Jazz."

Both young humans followed his hand gesture and Jazz demonstrated both his unique agility and an Autobot's abilities by doing a spinning back flip and landing in the exact spot he had taken off from.

"Yo, dawgs, this looks like a cool place to kick it." Jazz chose to vocalize in the English dialect that appealed to his personality.

Clearly Sam and the female noticed the discrepancy. They glanced at each other then looked back at Optimus, almost as if they did not quite understand what Jazz had said. "How…How did he learn to speak like that?" Sam asked.

"We have learned to speak Earth's languages through the World Wide Web." Optimus supplied.

"Oh."

Optimus gestured again. "Ironhide, our weapons specialist."

Ironhide twirled his integrated cannons in an approximation of one of the humans that appeared quiet frequently in the historical documentaries available on the Internet. An interesting human who lived in a place called the 'Old West' who went by many aliases – indicating a sketchy character, akin to Decepticon, no doubt – but whose given name was John Wayne.

"Feeling lucky, punk?"

Optimus noted the humans' swallow. Apparently they did not catch the historical reference. "Easy, Ironhide" He rebuked the other Autobot verbally for their benefit.

Ironhide straightened, relaxing his stance. "I was just kidding, I just wanted to show them my cannons."

Optimus was about to question the propriety of his rather pitiable tone, but then saw both Sam and his companion smile, relaxing slightly and decided it had been the right touch. Ironhide was not known for subtlety, but he had read this situation correctly.

Both humans were looking at him again, so Optimus nodded toward Ratchet, using an applicable term from human vernacular. "Our medical specialist, Ratchet."

Ratchet had been studying the two humans almost giddy with the opportunity to study another intelligent species up close and now looked at Optimus, sounding almost puzzled. "The boy's pheromone levels suggest he wants to mate with the female."

Both young humans reacted to that in a way that, if Optimus understood their body language correctly, indicated considerable embarrassment.

/Ratchet,/ He corrected in a transmission frequency the humans could not detect. /I do not believe it is appropriate to comment on such matters openly with the humans. I believe it is a social restriction in their culture./

Ratchet's reply expressed his contrition. /Should I apologize?/

Optimus considered them for a nanosecond longer. /I believe the best course is to discontinue the subject matter all together./ He replied even as he gestured to Bumblebee, standing as he did so.

"You already know your Guardian, Bumblebee."

Sam's expression was not one Optimus immediately recognized. It did not, however, seem to be a negative reaction.

"My Guardian?" He looked from Optimus to Bumblebee. "Bumblebee." He said as if testing the word. "You're my guardian, right?"

Optimus was about to reply for Bumblebee, knowing the smaller Autobot was unable to respond verbally when a voice poured out of him in a strangely lilting, almost chant-like cadence. A voice that was not his, even if it was oddly appropriate. In a way.

"Check on the rep, yep, second to none."

It had troubled Optimus for centuries that Bumblebee had been so irreparably damaged in their seemingly endless war, even if the other Autobot remained irrepressibly optimistic despite his suffering. Optimus tended to suffer whenever one of his mechs suffered. It was for that reason that he was so taken aback to hear an audible transmission from the yellow scout, even if it wasn't in his own voice, that it took several nanoseconds for Optimus to process what had just transpired.

Ratchet must have been equally puzzled, for he stepped forward and aimed a diagnostic laser at Bumblebee's long non-operational vocal processor.

"His vocal processor was damaged in battle." He muttered by way of explanation to the two watching humans. "I haven't been able to repair it yet."

/It's the radio from my alt-mode./ Bumblebee transmitted to them as Ratchet's laser elicited the electronic version of a cough. /It's what the humans use to access a good portion of the ambient signal traffic. A radio./

The laser snapped off. /My apologies, Bumblebee. Ingenious adaptation, my friend./

/Thank you./ It was clear the smaller Autobot was pleased with himself.

/Yes,/ Optimus concurred, feeling proud for his youngest team member. /Very creative./

That entire conversation took place in less than two seconds and went completely unnoticed by the two humans, having taken place in a frequency they were ill-equipped to detect. As evidenced by the fact they were still in the process of turning back toward Optimus.

"Why are you here?" The female asked directly.

Optimus refocused his optical preceptors on her. "We are here looking for the AllSpark. And we must find it before Megatron."

"Mega-what?" Sam asked, his expression more serious.

Optimus hesitated for just a millisecond as he contemplated how much to tell this young human.

They needed his cooperation and, whether or not the boy completely understood it, he needed their protection now as much if not more than they needed his help. He scanned the boy again, detecting the same thing Bumblebee's transmitted scans had indicated. He did not completely understand it, but everything that made Optimus a Prime told him Samuel was important. Not just to their current mission, but to Cybertronians as a people as well. Perhaps in time, exactly how would be made clear. Even so, he did know that their fates were linked. That much was unavoidable.

In the end, Optimus decided it was the civilized thing to do to be as honest and forthright as possible. And nothing would be lost by doing so.

Reaching up, he adjusted his optic servos to generate a holographic display to aid his explanation.

Both humans sucked in a large lung full of the ambient gasses and stepped backward as he ground beneath them began to change. Optimus felt a wave of longing that a human would have labeled home-sickness as the image of Cybertron temporarily replaced the monochromatic street of earth. Metallic shapes rose into the air, spreading their elegant spindles in the Cybertronian equivalent of geologic formations and plantlike forms, each one a different hue of subtle color. Cybertronian buildings grew to their colossal height, though no one besides his intended audience could see them.

As various Autobot shapes started to move within the projection, Optimus began his explanation. "Cybertron was once a great empire. Peaceful and just. The AllSpark – also known as the Energon Cube – was the source of our race. Its power: the source of the Spark that gives each of us life. For millennia we lived together in harmony. But then we were betrayed by Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. He wanted the Cube for himself and so started the war."

The pristine landscape around them changed. Smoke and fire replaced immaculate buildings, dead and dying Autobot and Decepticon bodies littered the area. Optimus continued. Had he been human, tears would have formed in his eyes. As it was, hints of the pain he carried seeped into his narration.

"The war ravaged our planet until it was consumed by death, and the AllSpark was lost into deep space." Optimus focused the projection on Megatron. He said nothing more, letting Megatron's actions speak for itself, having to divert a few circuits to preventing more images from his memory files from intruding on the moment.

Megatron's image held up a much smaller Autobot with one hand then pierced his chest with the other fashioned into a hooked blade. In a shower of life fluid and electrical discharges, the Spark of Megatron's victim exploded.

Even though the being that was so callously murdered was as different from them as possible in the physical sense, both humans gasped in clear horror.

As painful as it was to watch, Optimus was relieved Sam and the female would react with empathy. It was not something he would have expected from any organic species. Additional evidence that their two peoples were more similar than initially met the optic.

"You…" Sam spoke then, not looking at the projection of the mangled body any longer, but up at Optimus. "You saw this – what you just showed us – didn't you? They aren't just images, are they? But, like, recorded memories, or something aren't they?"

Optimus snapped off the projection impressed that an organic life form could comprehend such a thing. Perhaps it came from their close association with their own machines and computers, even if those devices were far from sentient. "That is correct, Sam Witwicky. That and other scenes like it fill many memory files for all of us."

"I can't imagine living with such memories." The female said softly, Sam shaking his head in agreement.

Bumblebee provided her name when queried and Optimus considered them both, more surprised than he had been in a very long time, even as Autobots measured time. Understanding – even of the limited information provided – and compassion. From an organic entity. It was a similar reaction every Autobot around the group shared at the moment.

"We do so, Mikaela Banes because we must." Optimus paused. "The AllSpark is the only thing that can rebuild our home world and replenish our race. Without it, Cybertron will remain a barren, ravaged wasteland, filled only with death. For that reason, we have been searching for it for several of your millennia.

"It must be tough. I can't imagine…. That much time. Wow." She was nearly whispering.

"I don't understand." Sam let his gaze rove around all of the Autobots. "What does this have to do with Earth? What does it have to do with… with me?"

Optimus looked back at the boy and slowly told him the story Bumblebee had been able to uncover and had transmitted to him. "Megatron followed the Cube to earth, many thousands of your years ago. But he crash-landed before he could retrieve it, somewhere near your Northern pole. Where he was discovered much later by Archibald Witwicky…"

"My Grandfather?" Sam interrupted, his tone somewhere between questioning and incredulous statement.

"Yes." Optimus confirmed. "It was a coincidence that would bind our fates together. He somehow activated Megatron's navigation system. The resulting photo-electric discharge permanently damaged his visual sensors, his eyes, but it also etched the possible coordinates to the Cube's location here on Earth into his glasses."

"There're other Decepticons on Earth an' they're also lookin' for tha AllSpark. An' their long-lost leader." Jazz added, adopting a speech patter more like his usual one.

Sam glanced at the smallest Autobot. "Decepticon? You mean like that monster that attacked me?"

"His name is Barricade." Optimus answered. "If he is here, there must be others. Obviously, they know of the glasses as well. Your life is in danger."

"Yeah. About that. How did you know about the glasses anyway?"

"eBay." Was Optimus's one-word reply.

"eBay." Sam echoed, but did not seem surprised. Rather he seemed more like he was ashamed he had not thought about that possibility on his own.

"If Megatron finds the Cube first, he will use its power to transform Earth's machines and build a new army." Ratchet leaned forward.

Optimus nodded firmly, carefully considering his next statement, well aware that this was the trickiest part. If Sam refused to help, it would be unethical to force further cooperation. Indeed it would be anathema to everything that they stood for as Autobots and which he was sworn and duty bound to protect as a Prime. True, while these two humans had evidenced sympathy and compassion for their situation, he knew that self-preservation was often the most powerful motivator for organic species. Definitely more powerful than coming to the aid of such a completely different and alien species that they had not even known existed before this night. And his brief research had evidenced that humans were not above fighting each other for differences among their own kind.

Optimus chose not to take a chance in appealing to that possibly fickle compassion.

It was not manipulation. No ethical programming was violated. Because what he chose to say was absolutely truthful. "You hold the key to Earth's survival, Sam Witwicky."

Sam swallowed, staring back up at him.

Mikaela spoke to her fellow human, though her eyes remained fastened on Optimus. "Please tell me you have those glasses."

Whatever the inner thought processes occurring inside Sam's cranium, he spoke slowly. "At home. Or they should be. I think."

"Will you help us?" Optimus asked the question at last.

Sam swallowed but nodded, a tad bit shakily, but a nod nonetheless.

"Bumblebee?" Optimus asked, hoping the other Autobot would not mind continuing to act as transportation for the humans, thinking it would be easiest on them to continue to interact with someone they already knew.

The bright yellow Autobot nodded enthusiastically almost as if he wanted to do so. In fact, Bumblebee was growing quite fond of the young human he was charged with protecting. He transformed back into the camaro and swung both doors open.

With only a moment's hesitation, both humans hurried to climb inside. The other Autobots waited until the two youth were in motion before likewise collapsing into their new alt-modes. Together they rolled out, following Bumblebee to Sam's dwelling.

Optimus was starting to let himself hope that they might actually be able to accomplish their mission without the majority of humanity even becoming aware of their presence. That they might be able to do so without involving an innocent and truly fragile species to danger in a war that was not theirs. The end of the war might actually be at hand. They would, at last, be able to return life to their home world. It was a possibility Optimus had long ago all but given up hope of seeing in his life-span.

Perhaps it was this slowly rising tide of hopeful expectation that would lead to the unusual, and rather un-Primely, impatience that would nearly jeopardize the fragile trust the humans were granting them and therefore forfeit the mission itself. Perhaps. But then, Optimus would never know for sure, or even if there was anything could have done differently at that point to change the outcome. All he knew was that was when everything started to go wrong.

I know I've been updating fairly quickly lately. However I have to travel out of town for a professional CE conference/ certification exam next week and I doubt I'll be able to update till I get back. Don't know that for sure, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up Assuming all goes well, I should be back and updating by the first week of November.

Big thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. Please keep them coming.