DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership of the Transformers franchise as it belongs to Hasbro. This disclaimer applies to all chapters of this story (just so I don't have to repeat myself again)

Pint Sized

Prologue

The Past

"Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, will kick Megatron's ass once and for all!"

A gasp came from inside the little tent made of throw blankets and bed sheets. "You said a bad word!"

A sigh followed the little girl's voice. "Vicky, I'm a big boy! Big boys get to say grown up words."

There was a pause, and the bed sheets fluttered in the wind produced by the ceiling fan. "When will I be big enough to say grown up words?"

"I don't know; girls age slower than boys."

There was the crack of a slap followed by a giggle and an exclamation of pain. The blankets parted, and a small giggling girl ran out from under the tent followed by an angry older boy. "Get back here! You can't hit!"

The giggling child abruptly stopped and spun around to grab the little boy. "Shh! We're in the big gray leader's territory!"

"You mean Megatron?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, Mega-dude," the little girl insisted. The boy forgot their earlier altercation, and they crept together down the hallway. They made it to the stairs and took one stair at a time, pausing whenever the steps creaked. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, they froze. A man lay snoring in the recliner in front of the TV on the far side of the living room and directly in the way of their destination.

"It's Starscream!" the little boy hissed as his sister gasped. "We have to be extra careful not to wake him up."

His sister nodded, and they dropped to the floor and proceeded to army crawl across the carpet, slowly and dramatically passing snoring man. The man snorted, and they both froze until he rolled over and went back to snoring. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, and his sister giggled.

They made it safely across the room and ran down the hallway to the next room. They hid behind the doorjamb and peeked around it into the room beyond. A woman stood at the sink washing dishes while humming a tune, and a black cat lay in a patch of sun that streamed through the window and onto the linoleum floor. The woman remained oblivious to the two pairs of eyes peeking out at her, but the cat cracked an eye open when the two squeaked and ducked back into hiding.

"Drat!" the boy whispered while his sister looked up at him with bright gray eyes. "Soundwave and Ravage are in the way."

"What are we gonna do?" the girl asked in a hushed whisper.

The boy played with his blonde hair, a stark contrast against his sister's ink black hair. Meanwhile, the black cat stood up, stretched, and gracefully walked towards their hiding spot. While her brother thought of a plan, the girl peeked around the corner and gasped when she saw the cat heading towards them. "Ravage is coming!"

The blonde glanced around the corner and almost gasped alongside his sister but managed to keep it from escaping. He was the leader and leaders don't gasp at the face of trouble. "We need back-up."

"Back-up?" his sister asked. "When did we get back-up?"

"We haven't yet," he answered in annoyance. He looked up and down the short hallway they were in and put his fingers to his lips and blew.

The little girl marveled at how her brother was able to produce the high pitched sound and tried to do the same. Her nose scrunched up when all that came out was a spitting raspberry. Before she could ask how he did it, a large yellow Labrador came skidding around the corner at the end of the hallway, almost knocking over a table that was set up to catch junk mail and magazines.

The dog stopped in front of them, panting loudly, and they both braced themselves for the dog's greeting. They weren't disappointed when the big dog covered them in slobber. The boy just giggled while the girl voiced her dislike with squeals.

"Okay, okay!" the boy finally managed to get through his giggles. He shoved the dog's face away and looked back around the doorjamb to see that the cat had frozen halfway between them and their target. The boy's dark grey eyes glared at the cat, and he pointed at it. "Sic 'em, Steeljaw!"

The dog tilted its head and gave a low growl when it saw the cat. The feline hissed and ran out of the backdoor that was located on the other side of the kitchen. The dog gave chase, and its loud barks caught the attention of the woman by the sink. She turned to look in the direction from which the dog had come and the children duck back behind the wall. She placed a finger to her lips and asked out loud, "Now why would Steeljaw suddenly chase Blackie out of the house? I better go see what the problem is."

She abandoned the dishes and walked out into the backyard. The two kids barely waited for the screen door to slam shut before dashing out of hiding. The boy grabbed the back of a kitchen chair and, with the help of his sister, dragged it to the counter. He climbed up onto the chair and reached across the counter to grab one of the three jars that were pushed against the wall. It was too heavy to pick up, so all he could do was slide it closer to him. His sister climbed up onto the chair beside him and waited in anticipation as he took the lid off the jar.

He grinned and pulled out two homemade, chocolate chip cookies still warm from the oven. He gave one of the cookies to his sister, and they took a big bite of their prize.

"Mama would've just given us cookies," the little girl said while reaching for a second cookie. Her arms were too short to reach the jar, so her brother handed one to her while he grabbed his third.

"But we would have had to wait until after supper," her brother argued around the cookie he had shoved into his mouth. The girl shrugged and started eating her treat.

They were reaching into the jar again when they both jumped at a voice that came from behind them. "What are you two doing?"

The children spun around to see a grouchy looking old man standing in the doorway to the kitchen. The boy screamed, which caused the girl to copy him, which ultimately caused the old man to cringe and look even grouchier.

"It's Megatron!" the boy yelled. He jumped off the chair and pulled his sister down with him. "Quick we're not strong enough to take him on alone. We have to find Optimus!"

The little girl tripped on air and fell to the ground, causing her brother to jerk to a stop and almost fall down with her. She laid there dramatically stretched out across the floor. "Go on without me. I'll only slow you down!"

He turned to jerk her up and, in as serious a tone as any child could have, said, "I leave no 'bot behind."

He looped his arms under her armpits and dragged her across the floor as she feigned a broken leg. The old man watched the two slowly progress across the floor and pass him, blinking when the little boy stopped to make the sound of a gun and narrate the fact that "Megatron" had taken damage to the leg and they could escape now. The little girl cheered as her brother continued to drag her through the house.

"Wait a minute," the old man said once he could finally speak again, "are you talking about them robots you watch? Wasn't Megatron a bad guy? Why am I a bad guy?"

The mother of the children came back inside with the cat she had rescued from the dog, and he turned to her. "Why am I a bad guy?"

She giggled and placed the cat back onto its patch of sun where it immediately flopped onto its side to stretch out across the floor. "All the adults are bad guys."

"Oh," he said with a blink. "Can I have a cookie?"

"Sure dad," she said with a laugh and returned to the sink. The old man was sitting down at the table with his cookie when the children ran back through, the little boy making shooting sounds as his two toys flew through the air and the little girl on his tail with the two Barbies she had painted and made armor out of aluminum foil for to look more like the toys her brother played with. Neither of the children looked at the adults as they bolted out the back door. Their mother watched the two from the window as the boy threw a gray toy onto the ground and threw his arms up, and she knew the movement was accompanied by a sound of an "explosion." He high-fived the red and blue toy he still held and began to fly around the backyard with his sister and the dog that had joined them.

She smiled at her kids. Despite the small age difference, the two were inseparable. The little girl idolized her big brother, and the little boy made it a point to include his sister in everything he did. Especially the "missions" he made up, like getting into the cookie jar.

"Those two have to be the most imaginative kids I have ever seen," the grandfather commented as he reached for another cookie. "We should find that kid a new cartoon though. He's starting to believe those Transformers are real. We passed a red semi last week, and he told me Optimus must have been doing recon in the area."

The mother waved him off as she finally finished her sink full of dishes and drained the dirty water from the sink. "He's a little boy. He's allowed to believe in robots that change into cars."

The old man shrugged. "He's your kid. Raise him however you want to."

The mother paused while putting the new cleaned dishes in their proper places. "Well, thank you for allowing me to raise my kids the way I feel like it."

Her father stood with his hands up in surrender. "You're just like your mother, always taking offense. Life will be easier if Victoria doesn't take after either one of you."

The woman stuck her tongue out at him as he left. As soon as he cleared the room, the little boy ran in from the backyard with a panicky look on his face. "Mom, where's Ratchet? Optimus needs him!"

He held up his toy for her to see the disconnected arm. Playing along with him, her eyes widened in disbelief. "Oh no! You better find your doctor quick. Where was the last place you had him?"

Her son thought hard before his eyes brightened, and he shoved his toy into her hand. "I know! He was fixin' Prowl after the Twins made his pro-proce-processor crash!"

He ran out of the room, leaving his mother behind to hold the crippled Optimus. She turned to put him on the counter but paused when she felt a tug on her skirt. Looking down, she saw her five year old daughter looking up at her. "Lemme see!"

The woman hesitated. After all the toy belonged to her son, and despite the closeness of the two siblings, they were still little kids who were possessive over their toys. But her daughter looked so earnest with her big grey eyes that the woman could only sigh and hand over the pieces. "Be careful. It's your brother's, and I would hate for it to break even more."

Tiny hands reached up and grabbed the toy from her hands, and she watched as Victoria delicately held the broken robot. The little girl stared at where the arm should have been and then down at the arm in the opposite hand. She turned around so that the adult couldn't see what she was doing, but the mother knew that she was trying to fix the toy.

Unfortunately, she didn't know if the toy could even be fixed. Her son's prized action figure (he absolutely refused to call it a doll and glared at anyone who did) had been losing its arm more and more, and even the slightest nudge would cause it to fall off. But he refused to get another Optimus Prime, stating that each Optimus may look the same but there was only one true Optimus and that just happened to be the one he had.

She was just thinking of the many ways to replace the doll, the perfect opportunity being the birthday that was coming up, when her daughter gave an exclamation of triumph and spun back around to face her. "I fixed him!"

She blinked when she saw that the toy had in fact been fixed. Taking it from her daughter, she stared at the reconnected arm. "How did you manage to do that?"

The little girl shrugged. "I just put it back in. It hurt a little, but he's okay now."

The mother shook her head and decided not to question it any further. The toy was fixed and that was all that mattered. She handed the toy back to the girl. "Well, here. Go take this to your brother, so he can stop fretting over it."

"What's fretting mean?" the girl asked as she took the toy.

"Worrying," the mother answered and patted her daughter on the head. "You're turning out to be a better doctor than Ratchet."

The little girl's eyes widened. "I can help Ratchet! Eric says that I can't be part of the Autobots if I can't do anything, but now I can. I'll fix the Autobots!"

Her mother watched her run out of the room to find her brother, and shook her head at the child's firm belief that she was now an Autobot medic. If adults could retain the same innocence they had as children.

AN: Here we go, the start of a story in whole new fandom. I know there weren't any Transformer characters in this chapter (save the toys that were mentioned), but they come in next chapter. This was just basically setting up the story. Hopefully, I can have the next chapter up on Monday.

EDITED: 1/1/14 (Grammar, missing words, etc.)