This is a remake on an old idea that's recently been re-inspired by the "Angel" series by Roseprinces1 (I'm hoping I spelled your name right, Rose...).
I've had this idea for a long while. It's just it always seems so Mary Sue-ish and all, and it's been done to death, but I still love it and its one of my strange little curiosities which fall under the What If. This isn't a "What if the Autobots adopt a human kid". This is a "What if the Autobots adopt a human child and raise her as their own?" Hence the Mary Sue possibility.
And as any chapters I have had for this have turned out incomplete, half-baked horridness from the tenth dimension of doom and unpleasantness, and/or just flat out don't want to be written, this is being placed as a One Shot. If people like this enough and say it's not Sue-ish, then I may (heavy emphasis here) try to pick it up again. Just note I've got two active stories, one which is stuck in Writer's Block No-Re-Write 'vill.
Now, without further a-due; Enjoy.
Orphaned
The Literal Infinitesimal
Lightning echoed through the midnight sky, and for a moment, even the great Optimus Prime was lost in nature's splendor. The Autobot leader was slowly trucking back to base from his meeting with the UN. He had decided to go alone so as to keep his own worry circuits from overloading about his warriors misbehaving like the children they were and, more importantly, take a break from 'babysitting' the great Autobot Army of Earth.
Something black flashed across his headlights, forcing him to slam on the breaks. Centuries of instinct ordered him to transform and investigate. What he found left him in a mix of confusion and worry.
Several seconds later and he was back on the road, pouring on as much speed as he safely could without causing too much of a stir with the local populace. Despite the electromagnetic interference of the storm, he managed to get a strong enough radio signal through to Teletran 1, so at least someone, anyone, would be ready for what he had found abandoned in the middle of the storm.
Static crackled through his radio as Ironhide's signal finally reached him, "Hey, uh, Prime? I know you're busy takin' your sweet time commin' back to da Ark, but..."
"I know what Teletran's investigating, Ironhide." Prime answered when his self-appointed bodyguard's voice dropped out into static.
"Yah do?" He could almost see the silver and red warrior's look of total confusion.
"Yes. I'm the one who sent in the request."
Thunder peeled across the sky, drowning out Ironhide's shocked response.
"I'll explain as soon as I reach the Ark."
When he did arrive, Ironhide was waiting for him.
"Okay, so what's with the request on human protoforms?" he demanded, pointing over his shoulder at the data Teletran was now displaying for the world to read.
"When you remove the infant from my front seat, I'll be more than happy to explain." Optimus answered directly and succinctly. Ironhide stood frozen for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what his superior officer had just said. The only thing he could manage to stutter off was a simple, "Say what?"
Optimus answered the articulate response by opening his driver side door. Ironhide took a peak inside, only to find a wicker basket occupied by a wiggling mass of light pink and red blankets. The old warrior slowly pulled the basket and its occupant from Prime's front seat, giving the Autobot Commander a chance to transform into robot mode. The two old friends looked down at the basket's occupant before exchanging glances with one another.
"Ironhide," Prowl spoke up from his unnoticed position in front of Teletran's monitor, "Teletran 1's acting... Oh, hello Optimus. I hadn't realized..." The tactical advisor stopped for a moment, noticing the small basket in Ironhide's grasp. "What's that?"
Still too stunned to answer, Ironhide simply showed the black and white Transformer the basket. Prowl's logic circuitry nearly ran in circles as every last possibility as to why Ironhide and Prime were carrying a basket with a human infant ran through his processors.
"How...? Why...?" Prowl finally gave up on trying to speak in coherent sentences and stuttered, "I think Ratchet's out of recharge in about seventy two billion astro-seconds," before turning and walking off to find a good stiff chair to collapse in.
By the time the old Autobot medic was finally out of recharge, there was a small congregation of Autobot warriors whispering about the small being in the whicker basket.
"Alright, everybody," Ratchet let out a deep sigh before nearly shouting, "Move!"
The Cybertronian Red Sea parted instantly, only to recede as soon as Ratchet had been admitted to the circle's inner sanctum.
Ratchet notched an optic rim in Prime's general direction. "You're joking,"
"Unfortunately... no," Prime sighed, shaking his head wearily, "And with Sparkplug in the hospital and Carly and Daniel both ill, the last thing I wish to do is add this potential overload on Spike's processor."
"So, basically what you're saying is I've been drafted... again." Ratchet sighed, cutting his leader short of explaining the situation further.
A giant squeal of laughter echoed from the object of attention when Ratchet got to work. A second metallic ring of laughter echoed from the watching Autobots, only to be muffled into a dull metallic clank at Ratchet's pointed glare. Once the laughter had died down slightly, Ratchet continued with his work. Several minutes later, he straightened up from his hunched-over position and sighed. Silence hung in the air so thick, one could almost cut it.
"Well, what's the prognosis, doc?" Bumblebee dared to question.
Ratchet looked the little yellow Volkswagen bug straight in the optic and said as seriously as he could manage, "She needs her diaper changed five minutes ago."
A resounding echo of 'ew!' rang out through the group, before someone ordered someone else to go and get the spare baby pack Carly had kept for Daniel just in case. Bumblebee tried to push back, knowing where this line of conversation was going.
"I am not touching that Pit-spawn thing!"
"Aw, come on Bumblebee. How bad could one diaper be?" Brawn taunted.
"Alright then Mr. I'm-so-tough, why don't you do it?"
Brawn took the comeback in silence before replying, "Alright then. I will."
A bright blue bag flew above the congregation's heads, "Got it!" The bag was handed from one Autobot to the next till it finally came to rest in Brawn's waiting hands.
"Great! Now Brawn can see how bad it is to change a kid's diaper."
"Aw, come off it, Bumblebee. It can't be that bad." Ironhide sighed.
"That's something, coming from the guy who doesn't have to change it."
Before either could shoot off another snappy remark, Brawn shouted out, "Incoming!" parting the way to the nearest incinerator faster than a human could blink. A group sigh of relieve echoed once the ready light flashed back on, signaling that the diaper of doom had been disposed of forever.
"Don't relax yet, folks. We've still got to get her fed." Ratchet's comment sent out a depressed sigh from the group. All the while, Brawn was trying to get the last of the mess out of his finger joints.
"I can handle that," Bumblebee volunteered.
"I'll get the water heated!" Inferno shouted out next.
Things seemed to mix between falling apart and falling into place from that moment on. The gathered Autobots scattered around base, heading to their personal rooms to see what, if anything, they could give to the newfound infant. The Dinobots took their absence as permission to meet the infant nose to nose. Grimlock, who had placed his muzzle just within grabbing range of the child, became her very first rattle of sorts. Her small hands reached up and pulled on his nose, causing him to jump back in shock. Swoop took the chance to place his beak near the basket next, and was greeted with a warm, giggling hug. The pterodactyl blushed bright red.
"Um... Me, Swoop, think you, little one, can let go of Swoop's beak now. Please?"
Someone eventually managed to swap out Swoop's beak for a stuffed pterodactyl doll.
Optimus laughed lightly in the background, watching his men work in a way he had only dreamed of ever happening. Even the normally pessimistic Huffer and Gears were hard at work trying to keep the baby entertained, all the while noting to the others that their ideas were either not going to work or could never work. It pained him slightly to put the breaks on their happiness nearly an hour later when Tow-Line and Hoist were about to sit down and start working on a design for a baby crib.
"But Prime..." the twins wined in unison.
"I'm sorry Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, but the humans have laws we must obey. We cannot simply take a human child into our home without first asking permission, and even then it would only be until we find her parents." Optimus explained as calmly as he could.
"Me, Slag, say slag her parents! Dem no want her, obviously." Slag snarled. Everyone blinked at him for a moment. "What? Me, Slag, like listening to Perceptor and Wheeljack tech-babble."
"Habits of Dinobots aside, Optimus is right." A slew of whining answered Prowl's comment. "We're already on shaky enough ground with the human government, and I'm rather sure none of you want to find ourselves looking for a new place to live when this nation's government decides to kick us forcibly out of their mountain because we didn't follow all the rules."
"Could they do that?" Cosmos squeaked from near the back of the group.
"It is possible; but only if we don't play the political game by their rules." Prowl quickly amended before any of the depressing bots could get in a word edgewise.
"Fortunately, you guys have got the best lawyers on earth, and if there's one thing a lawyer loves to do, it's wrangle politics."
All eyes turned towards the entrance to the inner sanctums of the base. Some Autobots looked embarrassed and flustered while several others tried to look anywhere but towards the newcomer, whom they had forgotten was staying the night for reasons of his own.
Chip Chase rolled forward, smiling without a care in the world. "May I see her?"
There was no complaint given as Brawn, who had been holding the small infant outside of her basket, surrendered the child into the loving arms of another of her kind. Chip smiled down at her, only to be greeted by a chubby-cheeked audible complaint. All he did was smile, leaning her against his shoulder, and patted her gently on her back. There was a soft echo of a burp before the fussy one fell silent.
"I think she's ready for bed again," Chip answered the unasked question. Sure enough, the moment the child was back in her basket, she fell straight asleep.
"Um... Chip...?" Sideswipe whispered, "About the whole lawyer thing..."
Chip laughed, leaning back slightly in his wheelchair. "If the question's going to be 'could we win in court', I'm going to have to answer yes. Of coarse, that'll all depend on whether or not one of you are willing to adopt her -- and given how many people will be coming out of the woodwork, odds are that one will have to be Prime. The more pressing issue would be whether or not the Autobots as a whole can handle the challenges and responsibilities of caring for a baby. I can tell you right now – it is not all sunshine and roses.
"First there's simply taking care of her. You have to change her diaper, feed her regularly, and make sure she doesn't get sick. Medical care shouldn't be too much of a problem given the fact Autobot medical science has improved human medical science drastically. Then there would be her schooling. Should it be in a public school or in a private school, or should she be schooled at home? If the world finds out you've adopted a human, the nut-cases will be all over this like ants at a dessert-only picnic. But that's not to say she shouldn't be taught publicly, either. In short, it'd be quite the challenge; and that's before you even factor in your heights and the war."
As Chip ticked off the challenges, the Autobots gathered stood in silence, taking in every last word and detail. The war would indeed be a problem, their heights an added factor they would have to cope with somehow. And the very fact that her own people would turn against her given her parentage made of few of them squirm.
The silence lasted for what seemed like three hours on end.
Optimus Prime cleared his throat, drawing all attention on him.
"If," and at the look from the Twins, Prime added another, "If," just to be on the safe side, "We should decide to adopt her, we will need... provisions in place."
"What kind of provisions are you thinking of, Prime?" Sky Fire questioned innocently.
Optimus's optics sparkled in what could only be described as almost juvenile mischief.
Four Years Later
"Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, hurry up! If we miss curfew again, Uncle Prowl's gonna ground our skid plates so hard we'll have to borrow Uncle Track's super-wax to get out all the scratches!"
Two Lamborghinis, one painted sunshine yellow, the other painted dark rose red, raced each other down an unlit desert highway.
"Will you chill, sis?" the red one hummed laughingly.
"Yeah. It's not like we've done anything bad." At the annoyed look his dashboard received from his small passenger, the yellow Lamborghini added, "Well... Not recently, at least."
"Regardless, you know how Uncle Prowl gets. Especially since Uncle Prime got that call from what's his name up on Cybertron."
Both cars seemed to roll their headlights in laughter.
"Relax, Rina. Your Big Bros have got this one covered."