What is written here is based on a previous fan's work in TRANSFORMERS (movies) fiction:

"Owls and Larks" and "Rising Sun, Falling Star" from "Rules" by BlueLunacy7

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NEST Rules

Abby Ebon

Note Be Here:

Hello, hello, if you have missed the important hint where this isn't strictly my story universe, well, it isn't: I'm happily playing in the "sandbox" of, BlueLunacy7's Transformer stories "Owls and Larks" and "Rising Sun, Falling Star" captured my imagination in one go, and then I read "Rules" and just couldn't help myself. I can not urge you more to read these stories prior to this, please. I simply can't guarantee it will make sense otherwise.

I thoroughly enjoy dragon!Sam and without the "Rules" to bend and play with I just would have kept my imagination to myself, but BlueLunacy7 is kind and agreed to let me play with "Rules" 'verse.

This is the result.

I must also thank BlueLunacy7 for accepting the submission of Rule#1 and some corrections and information added in-between the lines.

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Rule 1: Assume Nothing. You will always be wrong and most likely in trouble.

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Always speak politely to an enraged Dragon.
Steven Brust (whom I love and have all Vlad Taltos novels of…-coos-)

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There are stranger things in this world than vampires and werewolves, and Sam Witwicky could not only point them out in the Autobots, but in his own flesh and blood and bone and scales. Yes, scales.

Sam Witwicky was dragon born, half human and half, well, not so much.

Thanks, mom. Sam thought dryly, rubbing scales and all against the humming yellow Camero.

Dry really being the operative word, typically, or at least as typically as Sam got for a half-dragon, shedding of the surface scales happened when Sam hit a growth spurt – a dragon growth spurt, which could make staying in a human shape difficult – or he shed his under layer scales every six months or yearly.

So during a shed he'd gotten used to wearing a certain pendent on his choker that kept hid his less than human nature from anyone who had the wit to see it, or more dangerously – was looking for it. But mostly it was for two reasons, to keep in mind that he looked human and thus had to make an attempt to act it, bringing a new insincerity to the phrase: "monkey see, monkey do".

Sam, being a half-dragon going through human schooling, had to try to keeping daylight hours, human reflexes and agility (though some cases just called for a touch of Sam's not quite human nature), and human looks. Sometimes, as Sam was young (a teenager was still a baby to a dragon that lived though the last two millennia. While mother wasn't quite that old, Sam didn't think, he wasn't about to ask) he slipped up – a shade of too-blue skin, a glint of oblong pupils – a little thing, mostly, but embarrassing and awkward to Sam, who was after all still growing into his own skin – er – scales.

Worse was that Sam Witwicky was shedding dry skin in the summer, which just made it all the more hot and annoying.

This begged the question to why Sam was hovering over Bumblebee in his parent's garage, waiting for his best friend Miles in the worst of heat and in the middle of shedding scales.

In truth, it was because Miles didn't know about Bumblebee or the Autobots or Decepticons – yet, Sam was going to tell him, today – as soon as he showed up. Being a dragon while he did it was partly for his own confidence (Miles was hardly going to attack Bumblebee –mind, the last Miles knew Bumblebee was a beat up sentient haunted Camero. Such haunting could do dangerously strange things to the victim –Sam, in this case. Miles was protective of him, but he wasn't going to hurt Bumblebee in-between the "I love my car and he's an alien" speech while Sam was defensively set on being a dragon) and comfort – a subtle reminder that Miles held Sam's biggest secret securely, he could be trusted with this.

"Hey, Sam my man – is this a private party or can anyone join?" Miles Lancaster strolls into the Witwicky garage to a very odd sight. His best friend in full dragon form, rubbing up against a yellow and black striped car like he was a cat and the car was catnip: he was even doing a very good imitation of purring.

To say Miles was trying to keep from grinning to split his face at the silly looking sight was an understatement. Instead, he turned around to shut the garage door, letting a tap of his fingers against the door, the light leapt from them, like a shock of static electricity. Now he knew they weren't going to be walked in on like Miles had Sam.

The visible display was mostly out of politeness sake. Dragons and witches (for that was what Miles was: or the male version thereof) were rarely, well, friendly with each other – but Sam's human blood had calmed his dragon temper and he didn't have a nasty tendency to rampage at friends and foes alike in dragon shape. Some dragons thought of humans and those so shaped there of as less then they. And who would argue coming face to face with them, teeth claws and dragon scales? It wasn't as if that prejudice didn't run one way – there were reasons for dragons to hate humanity, very good ones.

Starting with humans, short lived or not, having played a large part in making dragons a very rare breed. Part of Miles trusted Sam, and another part knew that putting his back to a dragon was a bad idea – but it was Sam, and Sam deserved his trust, and it was sort of polite to show your back to someone you called friend and trusted. Witches were all about being polite.

Miles thought of it as making up for screwing with the laws of physics mankind were familiar enough to trust in, to name. Yeah, sorry about that people, very sorry – hey, at least we're polite about it, yeah?

Miles rolled his eyes at his own erratic thoughts and pivoted on his heel back to see Sam face to face. Or, well, something like that. Miles liked seeing Sam in dragon form; it was a rare treat to see. He was a beauty of blue iridescent scales; in nature a elegant sapphire head (which held wicked sharp teeth behind those lips, and a tongue Miles had seen not-quite human girls shiver for fully dressed) green eyes with oblong pupils wide – meaning Sam was pleased to see Miles: those same innocent looking eyes could narrow to slits of pure fury.

A graceful neck of sapphire that mixed with cobalt blue so easily you couldn't really tell were one colored scale turned to another, only perceive the difference at a distance. A lithe and muscular body, beneath was ultramarine with deep sky blue breast scales – his spine midnight blue, the cat-like sprawl beside the yellow car was reinforced by the ears perched on Sam's head, perked up and alert despite the lazy sway of the serpentine navy blue at the end.

Long legs stretched forward, almost playfully, cruel cornflower blue talons aimed carefully away from car paint or skin, sheathing in blue-black feet.

"Well, aren't we sitting pretty?" Miles teased, curious to why Sam had remained so silent. An ear twitched, his tail swayed. Sam wasn't one to hesitate, to be at such a loss of words for so long. Miles went from curious to suspicious: a garage was a good place to hide a body, and while that body might not be human looking Miles had helped Sam with such clean up before.

"You remember Nanami's e-mail?" Sam began, almost sheepishly.

"Yes…" Miles drew out the word, giving himself time to think of all sorts of scenarios out of imagination's fantasy and nightmare. Miles kept his back to the door, the only way out.

"Well, before that there was an e-mail from Paranormal Activity Research Alliance, yeah? And it was about a possible haunting of a yellow 1976 Chevrolet Camaro…" It did not escape Miles notice that this was the brand of car Sam was sitting on. A different make and model, but PARA wasn't very good at modern technology with their heads buried in paranormal dirt.

Oh, shit. Miles was a witch – he knew haunting of all sorts.

"Sam, maybe we should go inside and talk about this…" Miles trailed off invitingly, with a big grin and his suspicion bottled up tight. His fingers flexed at his side and out of view, the minute Sam was off that car – its ghost was toast.

"No, no Miles – it isn't like that, he's ah – more then a sentient haunt." Miles crooked his fingers invitingly at Sam, his smile full of understanding and his eyes trusting, it was his other hand – like a child crossing his fingers behind his back and making empty promises full of lies - that promised vengeance for the sake of his friend.

"Uh-huh." Miles murmured, pulling up close to Sam and taking a hold of one of his upraised scales – Sam would have to move with him now, or risk slicing Miles bone deep.

"Stop, wait – Miles you don't get it? He's not a haunting – he, he's…" Sam trailed off sputtering as Miles all but hauled him one handed away from one yellow Camaro. Bumblebee had remained silent and still up till now, by Sam's request – now alarmed - his radio flicked to life.

"There is no enemy you see. Only the doubt in you and me…" Miles stood very still, eyes on Bumblebee. Strange as it seemed to hold a dragon hostage, Miles seemed to pull it off very well indeed, keeping himself in-between Sam and the wicked yellow car. Sam for his part was unwilling to harm Miles and couldn't pull away without doing just that.

In hindsight Sam realized it might have been for the best for Sam to talk to Miles alone, let him in on all this gently. Bumblebee wasn't having that though, something like a questioning clicking stirring from the otherwise dead looking car.

"Sam…let's go, huh?" Miles flicked his eyes to the door, which swung open to a bright day outside, far removed and stranger then what was sitting in the Witwicky garage. It gave Miles pause – enough time for the static of the radio to resolve into a plea.

"There's no Ghost in this Machine." The robotic voice made Miles snicker: which proved that his friend had kept his humor, which was something, Sam knew for the best.

"He's not a haunting, Miles." Sam finally found his tongue long enough to say.

"Oh, yeah? What is he then?" Miles asked, doubtful but willing to listen.

"An ET or Alien." Bumblebee purred to life, it was less and more then a motor running to life.

Miles looked to Sam and recognized that look on his best friend's face, dragon or not; it was lust – for the not-so-haunted car.

Leave it to Sam, Miles thought, strangling his groan before it could leave his throat, to welcome alien life to earth through sex.

"Ah, pleased to meet you…?" Miles trailed off, but the radio filled the silence with ease.

"Buzz up to your baby like a bumblebee." Miles eyed the yellow and black paint, and didn't say what he thought, something between –that makes sense, and that's obvious. Bumblebee rolled forward to nudge against Sam, making his point clear enough.

Sam chest rumbled with a purr in response. While Miles had expected one day to have the awkward position of best friend meeting Sam's lover (he'd had a lot of flings and fucks, but no real lovers, and Miles was a bit worried about that, if he were truthful). He hadn't expected it to be quite like this: Sam being dragon shaped and his boyfriend being a, well – alien named Bumblebee in car-shape.

Leave it to Sam, Miles thought again with a roll of his eyes.

"So, aliens Sam?" Miles prompted with a wide grin, letting go of the scale ridge so Sam could move without risking Miles' limbs. Sam eyed Miles with something like hope in his great big green eyes, and returned the smile – with a dragon's teeth. Miles didn't flinch; Sam was self-conscious enough without his best friend freaking out about fierce looking dragon teeth.

"This no doubt having something to do with Mission City?" Miles led on, and Sam hardly needed any more hints: he settled down against Bumblebee, and Miles had no qualms about sitting on the garage floor at a dragon's feet and listening. Sam still purred, so his voice rumbled though the drone of what passed for Bumblebee's own engine-like "purr". It was a safe sound, hypnotic and soothing.

It was one thing Miles was good at, listening – and being Sam's best friend was easy enough. Listening to them purr at each other was something Miles would have to get used to, but that wouldn't be much of a hardship seeing as Sam was happy and it was likely their cute couple equivalent of cuddling.

That's how Miles got the whole story, on his best friend parent's garage floor, a dragon whispering Government secrets to him, an alien car –his beast friend's lover, maybe life mate - overhearing it all. Miles had a moment of envy for the foolish old witches who had been taught by ancient dragons, and must have experienced something like this – if a garage could be a cave. How could they have betrayed the dragons? Miles didn't know – but he had no intention of following in their footsteps.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Songs that Bumblebee's uses are as follows:

"There is no enemy you see. Only the doubt in you and me…." Komrade Kiev - Hart Corey

There's no Ghost in this Machine." Machine in the Ghost – The Faint

"An ET or Alien." AC's Alien Nation – Aaron Carter

"Buzz up to your baby like a bumblebee." The New York Glide - Ethel Waters