Chapter Two

Sam stood at the front of history class, dumping her back pack all over the front table. She could almost feel Mikaela's look of disdain. The moment Sam had walked in she had been looked over and judged. Probably thinking of ways to insult her because, her change to more comfortable attire rather than her own skin tight choices.

How she even got along with Mikaela the first time around was pretty amazing in its self. Yes after everything they went through she did become bearable, and almost sister like. But to Sam that was a different Mikaela Banes. This current one wasn't there yet and maybe she wouldn't make it that far this time around.

"Sorry, I have a lot of shit..,' Sam stopped abruptly, seeing Mr. Hosney's reprehending glare that promised trouble if she finished the sentence.

"Would you please refrain from subjecting the class to your ungodly mouth". She didn't even bat an eye at the snickers she received. They were just all children. Clearing her throat to gain attention, Sam began again (Ha... that was pretty ironic).

"For my family..." Sam's left eye twitched as a rubber band bounced off the center of her forehead. Mr. Hosney's nasally voice did not help the situation. He made her even more irritated then before, if it were even possible.

"Who did...? Who did that"? That bitch Banes would never rat her precious jock out, especially with her being the one to egg him on. Oh how she wished her teacher would put a sock in it.

"People, Responsibility". He called out, waving his little stop sign around like a dumb, dumb.

"You're such a dumbass Trent; I'm surprised you're even literate ". Sam spat, eyes a luminous blue.

"Ms. Witwicky! Please continue with the report, without insulting someone". Hosney tiredly scolded. Sam just pouted grumpily before, continuing on.

"So, for my family genealogy report, I decided to do it on my great-great-grandfather," Sam smiled inwardly, thinking back on how much trouble that dead man got her into, "A famous man and explorer, Captain Archibald Witwicky ".

"In fact, he was one of the first to explore the Arctic Circle, which is a big deal. In 1897, he took 41 brave sailors straight into the Arctic Circle".

Sam could hear Trent and his little friends whispering and laughing like idiots in the back. If he did anything else to embarrass her, she'd blow the gasket that already was leaking.

"And here we have some of the basic instruments and tools used by 19th-century seamen". She groaned hearing the childless laughter.

It really wasn't even that funny, seriously. Real mature people, really mature.

"This here is the quadrant, and this is the sextant".

"I didn't know you liked sexy things like that Witwicky". He said, wolf-whistling. Oh God she wanted to deck him a new one; Prime's please lead her strength and patience.

"Mr. Parker"! Hosney warned, wagging a finger.

Sam gritted her teeth, fat lot of good he was. Weren't teachers supposed to prevent bullying with it being illegal and all? Either way she wasn't going to cower down this time around, as she had done in her past time line.

"Fuck off retard ". She snapped.

"Ms. Witwicky one more time, just one more"! Hosney promised.

She snarled under her breath, cursing her history teacher's favorite student. How someone who couldn't even tie his own shoes made that particular spot, blew het mind. Drawing in a breath she calmed herself. If she screwed up and got in trouble today, there would be no car; which essentially meant no Bumblebee. Bye, bye Earth!

"These are pretty cool they are my grandfather's glasses". Sam carefully weighed them in her hands. It was such a troublesome piece of her history. Autobot's and Human's alike were putting their lives on the line for glass and metal. Gently she placed them aside continuing on with her speech.

"Unfortunately, my great-great-grandfather, the genius that he was, wound up going blind and crazy in a psycho ward," Sam winced slightly remembering those symbols driving her to mad, "Drawing these strange symbols and babbling on about some giant ice man".

Ah... Megatron was going to be a big problem to deal with, he was not going to have the chance to murder Jazz this time around if she had a say. The ringing of the bell once again pulled Sam's presentation up short.

She slid every item carefully back in her back pack, putting the glasses in their specific case. Shouldering it she sauntered over to Mr. Hosney's desk.

"I was pretty good, right"? Sam leaned against his desk, knowing that it most likely would irk him. He gave her a solid look.

Please don't say what she thought he was going to say.

"I'd say a solid B-". Sam's jaw dropped at Hosney's blatant response. He could not be serious, could he?

"Are you freaking serious, you honestly can't be"!

"You were verbally fighting with Mr. Parker and cursing during your report; I'm not sure your Great Grandfather would be terribly proud of you ". Mr. Hosney looked at Sam a pointedly.

"No, kids enjoy ah... a taste of how the real world sounds". Sam stumbled a bit, with an awkward grin.

She had a bad case of instant word vomit. Things that shouldn't be said were being thrown out into the open.

Hosney looked at her bored, unbelieving. She had almost groaned; this couldn't be happening. Bumblebee was on the line here.

"Look, do I a favor can you look out the window for a second? You see my father"? Hosney nodded, looking slightly irritated.

"He's the baldish guy in the green car".

"Yes Ms. Witwicky, please go onto what you're getting at". He waved his hand impatiently.

"Okay, I want to tell you about a dream, a girls dream; and a man's promise to his daughter".

"He looked at me in the eye and said, Sam I'm going to buy you a car, but I want you to bring me $2000 and three a's", She stressed, "Okay? I got the 2,000 and I got two a's".

Hear it goes; it worked for her the last time. Hopefully the Primes would be kind to her today.

"Your tiny inconsiderate B- implodes that dream. Sir, just ask yourself, what would Jesus do"? Sam let it hang and sit for a moment.

(Porsche Dealership)

Sam practically skipped out of the school. Seeing her Dad looking at her, she sent him a huge grin. Jumping over the door earning a scolding, Sam waved her report at him.

"So you didn't get an A"? Sam pouted slightly.

"My own Father thinks that low of me," She pretended to look hurt, "Of course I got an A".

"Wait, wait, and wait. I can't see your right congratulations ". He gave her a pat on the back.

Sam could almost jump with joy. She was going to get Bumblebee! Even if it had only been days for her, she missed him dearly. But what was she supposed to tell the Autobot's?

'Hey I came from your future, were the Fallen have risen to destroy the Earth and I helped defeat the almighty Megatron', yea Sam was going to keep this to herself for a while. Maybe try and prevent the bad from happening.

Oh God, but what about that butterfly theory would she disrupt the course of history? Suddenly Sam's tattoo warmed slightly, almost in a reassuring way. Holy crap!

The Prime's could monitor her; that's so awkward. Every embarrassing thing watched like a film.

"I got a little surprise for you, Samantha". Sam grimaced slightly, she hated her full name. He was doing it again; her Dad was one sadistic bugger.

"What kind of surprise"? She sighed, leaning against her hand.

Ron Witwicky had a small smirk as he pulled into the Porsche dealership; oh he was such a jerk. But no Porsche could have anything on her sweet Bee.

"Yeah, a little surprise".

"You're finally trading this green booger in for a real car"! Her Dad's grin dropped real quick.

"Samantha Andromeda"! Sam snickered behind her hand.

"Yea you're right; they wouldn't trade their most crappy pen for this". His face turned red.

Oh this was too good for her to pull stops. Thank the Prime's for the opportunities to screw with people.

"You think that's funny"? She nodded.

"Yeah, I think it's funny, you did this to yourself Dad," Sam innocently twiddled her thumbs, "Unfortunately you tried to screw with me and I turned it on you".

"What's wrong with you, a normal kid would've fallen for it "? He grumbled, driving out of the dealership.

"No normal kid had to grow up with you and Mom as parents".

"True," He agreed.

(Bobby Bolivia's Dealership)

A dirty man, wearing a scruffy Hawaiian shirt stepped out into his dealership. Which alike him was a sight to see. It was a dumpy 'petting zoo' to, if you included having a llama a petting zoo.

"Manny"!

"What Boss"? A short grease monkey poked his head out from a rustic garage.

"Get your cousin out of that damn clown suit; he's having a heat stroke again, scaring white folks".

On the side of the road there stood the scariest example of a clown ever. Dirt and grime smudged the once bright yellow and red outfit. A gangly Hispanic man groaned trying to rub the make-up away from his eyes.

"I'm hot! Makeup's melting, it hurts my eyes"!

Sam shook her head, she still couldn't believe her Dad brought her hear the first time around. She couldn't help it; it was just in her nature to make a smart ass comment.

"You said... You said half a car, not half a piece of crap, Dad".

Sam saw her Dad's 'speech' expression and almost groaned.

"When I was your age, I'd have been happy with four wheels and an engine".

"You'd have been happy to get a date at my age Dad".

"Sam"! She snorted slightly.

"Okay, let me explain something to you this car here is 40 year old virgin," Sam pointed to a piece of shit Ford, "And this is 50-year-old virgin".

"I think I know what I'm going to get you ".

"Dad"! She scolded.

"Remember Sam no sacrifice, no victory".

She almost rolled her eyes. Ah... another great contribution from great old Grandpa Witwicky.

"Yeah, I got the no victory down pat". She grumbled.

"Gentlemen and you little lady". Sam grimaced, Jazz called her that before. When this Bolivia guy said it he sounded like an old creep.

"Bobby Bolivia, like the country except without the runs. How can I help you"? His laugh sounded as if he was having an asthma attack.

"Well, my daughter here, looking to buy his first car". Ron put a hand on Sam's shoulder smirking slightly at his daughter's misfortune.

Bolivia had an almost constipated look etched on his face.

"You come to see me? That practically makes us family; Uncle Bobby B, baby, Uncle Bobby B".

Uncles don't stare at you, like your game.

"Sam, your first enchilada of freedom waits underneath one of those hoods". Here it comes the crappiest speech ever.

-Bolivia's Speech-

Let me tell you something, Sam.

A driver doesn't pick the car.

The car'll pick the driver.

It's a mystical bond

Between man/girl and machine.

Girl, I'm a lot of things,

But a liar's not one of them. ('Bull crap', Sam snorted under her breath)

-End-

He then pointed over to an elderly lady, whom was resting under a canopy. She was an amazing woman to have dealt with this shark all her life.

"Especially not in front of my mammy, that's my mammy. Hey, Mammy"!

Her middle finger instantly flipped up, giving him the birdie. His smile turned into annoying laughter.

"Don't be like that, if I had a rock right now, I'd bust your head, you wrinkly old bitch". Bolivia muttered to himself.

Sam pretended to browse around a bit. Bumblebee didn't need too much attention yet, it would seem weird for her to head straight for one car. Her Dad had the worst tastes in dealerships; Sam thought running a finger over rusted doors. She almost groaned seeing that Bolivia guy head her way.

"Well, over here, every piece of car a girl might want or need". He spread his arms out, gesturing to the junkyard of vehicles.

Ignoring him, she headed over to the first Autobot she'd seen since waking up. Her sweet little guardian, she missed her little Bee. As of now he still was in his dirt and rust stained state. Sam winced at that, it mustn't be all that comfortable for him.

"This ain't bad Dad, he's got character ". Sam gently opened the rusty car door, which came open surprisingly easy.

As she lightly ran fingers over the Autobot symbol, her tattoo heated up in a numbing way. A small gasp escaped her lips, she could feel Bumblebees presence all around her. It was like a warm blanket enveloping Sam.

"It's a classic..." Bolivia muttered, rubbing his head confused. He had no idea where it came from, "I don't know anything about this car".

"Manny"!

"What"? The guy from the garage threw a wrench down annoyed. Bolivia pointed towards the car.

"I don't know, boss! I've never seen it"!

"That's loco! Don't go Ricky Ricardo on me, Manny! Find out"! Bolivia was agitated. But he could really care less where the car came from as long as he earned money.

Sam wrapped her hands around the leather steering wheel, practically feeling Bumblebees spark beat. She felt like she could almost freak out. It will really freaky, meeting this particular Autobot for the first time again.

Of course her Dad had to go and break Sam's small euphony.

"How much"? Bolivia looked at the car appraising it.

"Considering the semi-classic nature of the vehicle, with the slick wheels and the custom paint job..." He trailed off as Sam held up her hand.

He was spouting a whole lot of bull. Poor Bumblebee was rusty and faded in this form.

"Hold up there speedy Gonzales, the paint is faded and I see rust". She placed a hand on her hip.

Bolivia sniffed at her comment, almost like he smelled for money.

"Well, this is your first car, I wouldn't expect you to understand; five grand".

"No, I'm not paying over four. Sorry".

Both of them were being bickering children, it still irked her she was buying Bumblebee. He wasn't an inanimate object someone could own, he was an individual. But this was the only way she could get him.

Bolivia snapped his fingers at her rudely. If he would've been closer she'd have bit them off.

"Kid, come on, get out. Get out the car". He ushered.

"Hell no, you said cars pick their drivers, so back off dipstick".

"Well, sometimes they pick a driver with a cheap-ass father. Out the car".

Sam glowered at that little side comment, only she could pick at her Dad. Bolivia was doing it to be rude. She should've given him a knuckle sandwich when getting out of the car.

He clapped his hands with a fake elaborate smile.

"This is a classic engine right here..." He was cut off mid-sentence, as Bumblebee knocked the other cars door when Sam slammed his own.

"Gee. Holy cow". Sam could tell her Dad wanted to laugh, but he was holding it in.

"No, no, no. No worries". Bolivia spluttered.

"You all right"? Sam smiled sweetly, fake innocence.

"I'll get a sledgehammer and knock this right out," He clapped his hands sharply, "Hey, Manny! Get your clown cousin and get some hammers and come bang this stuff out, baby"!

Just a few more moments, and Bumblebee would save the day. Oh, how she loved this part.

"That one's my favorite drove all the way from Alabammy". Bolivia walked over to a disgusting puke colored 1980s van.

Before he could try to sell it, a loud screeching noise erupted throughout the dealership. Every single car window shattered, with the exception of one yellow and black Camaro.

"$4,000"! Bolivia squeaked, holding his chest as if he had a heart attack.

"Good job little Bee". Sam murmured, rubbing the hood. It gave an almost confused hum. That may have been said a little too soon.

"Odd I haven't even put the keys in yet". She muttered, with fake confusion. That seemed to settle the Autobot down for the time being. It was like she could understand his feelings even in auto mode. If only the Prime's had explained more to her.