All my life I've only ever been good at two things; running and cars. My biggest problem right now? It's a little hard to outrun giant transforming robot-aliens. You might say it's like trying to outrun fate.

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Author's Note – Welcome

Hey! Welcome to my new story! I will let it be known here that I'm no expert on the Transformers as I've only seen the first three movies, and have not seen the first for at least four years. Bear with me though, as I think I can do alright. But that's where you guys come in, because I need your feedback! Please review, as I seriously don't like when people fav and run, especially since I'm pretty much the most self-conscious writer in history. Two or three words would do, of course the more the better, and constructive criticism is more than welcome!

Oh, and this story is not about a girl jumping in as some fearless Mary-Sue heroine, because as awesome as Havek is she is definitely more of a runner than a fighter. Nope, this story is going to be way more fun! (Hopefully, eek!) Also, please don't turn your nose up just because it's in first person. Thanks!

Disclaimer: As awesome as it is, I don't own the Transformers franchise or anything related to it. Hence why I smother myself in fanfiction. All rights to their respective owners!

Warnings: Violence, Language. Other Warnings to follow as required

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Hitchhiking was never the way I intended to spend my days, that's for certain. I mean, it's more than a little sad when a proud mechanic doesn't even have their own set of wheels, let alone being out of work, flat broke and homeless. But I suppose that's my life now and I keep looking for that one opportunity, that one chance, 'cause I'm telling you now that when I see it I'm gonna leap up and grab for it with both hands.

I glance backwards as I hear yet another vehicle snarling as it charges up the open road, the rumble of its powerful engine making me smile slightly as it approaches and the flies past me, the draught of air hitting me like a sledgehammer. That guy had to be doing at least a hundred and sixty clicks, minimum. Oh the envy in my heart…

The bellowing roar of the engine fades into the distance and my smile follows suit. I keep my head down against the angry rays of the sun, my red truckers cap not quite keeping my ears, neck and chest from turning redder underneath my deep tan. I trudge onwards, ever onwards, hoping beyond hope that maybe today would be the final day, that maybe I could stop running at long last. That maybe I could start living again.

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My positive thoughts serve me no good, for there's no amazing opportunity miraculously appearing on the heat hazed horizon. I hitch a ride with a couple of truckers, each of them with a bottle of water, a packet of chips, some advice, a slew of tasteless jokes and rather vulgar language, though they do attempt to tone it down a little, being in the presence of a 'lady' and all.

Its three days later and a trucker has brought me to a stop. His name's Samuel and I climb from the cab with shaky legs, the limbs unused to being out of motion for so long, though it has been little more than a few hours.

Samuel comes around from the driver's side and passes –tosses – my pack at me with a toothy smile.

"Hope y'all don't mind me leavin' ya, luv, but this is where we're gonna haf to part ways," he scrunched his hat in his hands as though he really is sorry that he's leaving me behind. I think truckers always enjoy taking a hiker along for a little ways every now and then. It's probably lonely doing the job they do, living on the road. I could relate.

"Nah, it's no problem Sam," I smile at him genuinely, though I don't show my teeth. It's a small smile, but one filled with thanks. His own grin broadens in response, though I didn't think that was possible. "Here is where we part ways. That's just the way the wheel turns."

The stop is one of those mechanic/truck stop places about twenty minutes out of the nearest town and sitting just down from where a road enters the highway. Samuel's heading down that road and I'm… not.

Samuel wishes me the best of luck and then strides away, running a hand through his short, choppy hair before jamming his hat back on his head. He's off to buy a burger and pay for fuel, I would think. I leave him to it, saying goodbye coming naturally to me by this point. Well, maybe not naturally but I like to think that I'm well-practiced at it by this stage in my life.

I stand for a moment, taking a chance to stare at the overcast, stormy sky. It looked like I wasn't going to be walking much further for a little while at least. With a sigh I enter the small store, smiling thinly once again at Samuel as he left, patting me roughly on the shoulder in passing.

I bought a bottle of water and a cheese and bacon pie, spoiling myself a little. But it was so worth it as I paid with my scant cash and went back outside, sitting on an abandoned table under a broad, leafy tree out the back. I unwrap the pie with shaky fingers and a watery mouth, the scent coming off it simply divine. I sink my teeth into the flaky crust and juicy centre with a moan of relish. For too long I had lived off pilfered fruit and stale sandwiches.

I was just licking the last of the crumbs for my fingers when the crunch of boots on gravel brought me back to the real world. One of the workers from the garage out the back was walking back to work after having grubbed lunch from the store. My eyes follow him idly.

At least, they do until I spot something infinitely more interesting; old rejected cars strewn about the back of the mechanic's yard. There were vehicles of just about every style and age, though there wasn't an immense number of them, just variety. Old European's were stacked against cheap imports which were wedged under heavy trucks of all kinds and… ooh!

It was a Chevrolet Chevelle, an old one too, forgotten out in the back of the yard and crammed between the shell of a Mack truck and a skip bin filled to overflowing with cardboard and twisted scraps of metal. The only reason I could see the Chevelle was because of where I sat, the abandoned table offering me a partial view of the mangled hood and rusty bumper. The badges shone dully in the afternoon light.

I stood without being consciously aware of my actions and mere moments later I was pressed against the chain link fence. I imagine that I would have looked quite the sight to a bystander as I clutched at the wire and drooled over a wreck of a car with a feverish gleam in my eyes, but that's just what I did.

After an epic battle of willpower I drag my sorry arse away from the fence and hurry around to the front of the garage, a tiny bell tinkling over the door way as I slipped into the small shop at the front. No one was on the reception desk. My hand unconsciously rested on the wad of money I kept on me for just this occurrence as I waited with incredible impatience.

It was dark in the shop and the door to the garage out the back was open just a crack, allowing the sounds of a sander and the rapid-firing of a rattle gun to filter through. I can see shadows flickering through the slightly open door, flashes of sparks and some silhouettes bent over their respective projects. Little more than that filters through eyes and into my one track brain as I bounce on the balls of my feet. All I can think of is that forgotten Chevy Chevelle out the back.

"Hello?" I called, knowing that there was little to no chance that I would actually be heard over the cacophony of sounds out back. As expected the noise works continued and I huffed with impatience but I wasn't stupid enough to go wandering around in an unknown garage all by myself. I sighed and rolled onto my heels. I would have to wait until someone showed up or a break in the noise allowed me to yell again.

"Hey? Hello?" I called once more half-heartedly, only for a booming bark to cause me to jump and set my heart a-pounding like I'd been zapped. I turned hesitantly and watched as the massive Rottweiler-cross tilted its head towards me, eyeing me with a hungry look. If I wasn't so shit-scared I would have laughed at the irony of the garish bright pink collar around its thick neck.

I stiffened, my body pulling taught like a bow-string as the animal padded towards me, menace in it's every step. It was a metre away, then a few feet, then inches and then the dirty great beast fell with the force of an ancient oak and smothered my feet.

"Nice doggy," I murmured as I tried not to shake, though my body wanted nothing more than to tremble like a leaf. Well, what it really wanted to do was make a break for it and send me a-running off down the highway, but the two tonne weight on my feet kind of prevented that. "Don't like dogs, don't like dogs." I began to chant to myself absently, trying to distract myself from the bloodthirsty creature that was flopped over my boots and snoring obnoxiously.

"I thinks it's kinda obvious that you don't like dogs, little miss," came a half-laughing voice from the doorway that the animal had stalked me from. I glanced up with pleading eyes and the man snorted with a small grin playing over his good-looking features and a shake of his head.

"Daisy!" he called, slapping his hands against his thighs and whistling shrilly. "C'mon, up you get!"

We waited a moment but the beast did nothing but snore louder, as though trying to drown out the calls of its name. The man huffed an exasperated sigh and moved forward, seizing the mutt by that horrid pink collar and dragging the behemoth off of me. It whined piteously and resisted so that he had to quite literally drag it across the floor.

"Daisy?" I raised my eyebrows as he released the animal and it slumped in the nearest corner, though still not far enough away for my liking. The man shrugged, shooting a fond glance at the monstrous creature.

"She's sweeter than she looks," he replied with another shrug. There was one of those awkward pauses before the man cleared his throat. "So, uh, something you wanted lil miss?"

Surprisingly it takes me a fleeting moment to recall why I had indeed entered the garage, fear having wiped everything from my mind, but then I remembered the Chevy Chevelle out the back and I couldn't help the eager smile that quirked up the edges of my lips.

"There's a Chevy out the back, can I buy it?" I asked without hesitation. When the man just stared at me blankly I realised that it had been nothing more than a blur of words.

"A Chevy Chevelle," I repeated more slowly. "I would like to purchase it."

A puzzled from crossed the man's face and his eyes glazed over slightly as he thought. "Chevy, Chevy," he murmured to himself. "Can't think of it." He replied with a shake of his head.

"Can I show you?" I asked without hesitation, shooting another glance at the dog. I was so close to getting what I'd always been looking for and I'd be damned if I would let anything get in my way. Not even a gigantic, blood-thirsty monster called 'Daisy.'

"Sure, why not?" the man responded and led the way through the back. "This way."

I took the opportunity of having him turned away from me to study the man carefully. He had that awesome skin tone of someone who was half and half with dark hair and equally dark eyes that glittered as he spoke. He had a nice face too, I had to admit that, what with his strong brow, defined jaw, aristocratic nose and lips that seemed to be in a permanent upwards tilt. I had him pinned for a ladies man, though not the type who exploits it at every opportunity. What was that type of guy called..? Oh, a chick magnet! Yup, suited him to a T.

Anyway, despite all of this there was no way I was going to get all tizzy over some random fellow mechanic I'd never heard of before, so that was that. It didn't mean I couldn't admire the natural scenery thereabouts though.

"So why the interest in old piece of junk like we've got out back here?" the guy asked me after a few moments of walking that had been filled with nothing but more awkward silence and the tread of our heavy boots on the concrete flooring. He took me a strange route out the back, one that meant I avoided where the other mechanics were working.

"Gotta love classic cars," was my half-assed response, too busy gazing at the wrecks and rejects we were passing left right and centre now that we were in the yard and back under the sun's feeble rays.

"Fair enough," was the awkward response before the man stopped and I nearly slammed fully into his back from the abrupt halt. "Now, where did you see this car?"

I looked around at the cars all in varying states of decay like corpses left rotting on a long forgotten battlefield. The scrap yard was actually far bigger than I had initially thought looking in from the outside. I was never going to find that beauty again among the seemingly endless crap heap. It was just so low and well-hidden between that Mack truck and skip bin.

So instead of looking for the low down, concealed Chevy I searched instead for the towering Mack truck that it had been tucked in next to. The truck wasn't so hard to find, looming over many of the other abandoned vehicles, its smokestack shining brightly in the mid-afternoon light.

"This way," I told the man before all but racing towards the massive truck, my heart thundering in chest excitedly. I reached it, the man rolling his eyes at my exuberance and trailing behind but I paid him no mind. I grinned broadly, staring at the most beautiful sight that I had ever seen.

The Chevrolet Chevelle was 1970's series and, if the faded paint was anything to go by, it had once been a deep, midnight blue, near black.

The headlights were all broken, the windscreen missing, shattered in its frame. The rear bumper was mangled, like a giant foot had come down from above and crushed it. One of the doors was so severely bent that the top half was almost lying flat on the seat inside, the window somehow miraculously still intact.

"Really?" the guy asked, scepticism lacing his voice. "That heap of junk is what got you so goddamned excited?"

"It's beautiful," I responded with an –and I'm embarrassed to admit it – wistful sigh.

"It's a pile of junk."

"Well it won't be when I'm finished with it!" I snapped, glaring at the guy. "Now can I buy this goddamned wreck of a sexy car or are you just going to argue with me like a five-year old brat till the cows come home?"

Okay, so I have a temper, what of it?

"Jesus! Okay, calm down!" The guy raised his hands in a placating manner, looking at me like I was some kind of murderous psychopath. "I'm just saying you could do loads better that this mangled pile of shit."

"Don't listen to him," I soothed the car, trying to smother my annoyance at this guy who couldn't see the true worth of a beauty such as this Chevelle. He had no idea what I had lived through, what something like this meant to me. "I'll bring ya back baby; you'll be the best looking car around, and you're engine'll purr like a kitten with a litre of cream, a silk pillow and a belly rub."

"Okay," the guy stretched out the word, scratching the back of his head absently and obviously totally freaked out by my conversation with the car and the tender way I was running my hands over the filthy white racing stripes, the metal of the hood scarred and rough under my calloused fingers. "Why don't we go see the boss now so that you can buy the damned car?" he suggested and I had the distinct feeling that he just wanted to get rid of me.

"Fine," I muttered, reluctantly tearing myself away from the vehicle, my eyes already seeing the masterpiece it would become. My heart broke a little at what I imagined to be a sad look on the car's 'face' as I walked away.

"It is typical though." I said with a huff after a moment as we wound our way back through the car graveyard. The guy raised his eyebrow in speculation.

"What's typical?" I snorted down a half-hearted laugh and tossed my head a little, my short, choppy hair tickling my scalp a little as the air filtered through it. My fringe fell back into my eyes.

"That your boss has already sent me to his subordinates without even introducing himself." I was silent for a brief moment and when the guy made no response I smiled grimly to myself. "I bet he saw that I was a woman and just palmed me off to you, hey ladies' man?"

I bit back a laugh as his ears turned slightly pink under his deep skin tone but made no other response.

"Fine, be that way," I muttered whilst fighting down a smile as I followed his silent form back into the garage, blinking rapidly as my eyes struggled to adjust to the gloominess and sporadic showers of sparks from one corner of the workspace.

"Al?" he called into the garage as we stood at its edge. The sparks stopped. "Hey Al!?"

"What?" snapped back a grating voice from the corner that the sparks had been emanating from. The rest of the garage was still and I wondered where the other workers were. Instinctively I squared my shoulders and clenched my jaw as the burly figure of 'Al' worked its way out of the shadows.

The big guy was perhaps six one, muscled but with a prominent beer gut. He wore a stained tank that stretched across his large form in unflattering ways. His face was stained with grease, dirt and exhaustion, his eyes tired but cautious. A thick beard smothered his lower jaw, the dark hair streaked with grey like that which ringed his skull.

"Hi," he bit out as he spotted me, his thick, gnarled hand outstretched. I clasped it in my own and returned the handshake firmly. "Name's Al."

"Only everyone calls him Big Al," chimed in the other guy.

"Least he was kind enough to introduce himself, unlike some I could mention." I fixed the younger man with a pointed glare.

"Hey now! You never introduced yourself neither, lil lady," I caught an undercurrent of Southern drawl in his tone but I ignored him completely, keeping my attention on Big Al.

"I'm Maxine Havek, though most just call me Havek, ya know, like havoc?"

"Havek, I like it. Seems to suit ya more than Maxine at any rate," was Big Al's response as he barked a laugh and I grinned back at him, absently running my finger over the studs and hoops in one of my ears.

"That's what I've been told," I agreed and we laughed again.

"Well, lil lady, I suppose it's time to introduce myself," The younger man wrapped a strong arm around my shoulder for a moment, either not noticing or completely ignoring the way I stiffened as I resisted the urge to pull away and tear his eyes out with my fingernails. But he released me just as quickly as he had latched on and stepped forward before turning on his heel and sweeping a gallant, mocking bow. "My name, fair lady, is Jones, and I will be so bold as to confess that I think I'm falling in love with your crazy ways."

"I-you what?" I stared at him as though he had just grown two heads before glowering as he broke down into gales of laughter, struggling to breather. Big Al just looked between us confusedly.

"What what?" Jones chirped, feigning confusion. "You're the one who accused me of being a ladies man." I should have known there was a reason he was so quiet after my comment.

"Pray forget I mentioned it," I replied dryly, not at all impressed. "Clearly you're more likely to scare away any members of the female sort with you guffawing like a slapped mule."

"Aye, even his mother kicked him out!" Big Al roared with laughter as Jones sulked.

"Low blow, man," he muttered. "low blow."

"Anyway," Al waved a hand as if to clear the air of our current er… conversation. "What can I do for you Miss Havek?"

"1970 Chevrolet Chevelle out the back," I stated simply, straight down to business. My palm began to itch in eagerness of the deal. "I want to buy it."

"It's a mangled old hunk of junk," Jones slipped in helpfully and I resisted the urge to destroy that perfectly straight nose of his.

"Shut it Jones," Al barked and Jones went back to sulking like pup that had gotten its favourite chew toy taken away. He stared at Al with reproachful eyes, indignant that his only source of amusement was being stolen from him. I smirked.

Al looked thoughtful for a good long moment as though he was trying to recall exactly what the car looked like.

"Dark blue, fairly beat up?" he asked.

"That's the one," I replied with a winning smile.

"Eight hundred." Was his response and I froze, the smile dying on my face and sliding off like swamp mud.

"What?" my voice was whisper quiet, but I knew that if I raised it any louder I'd be screaming at the top of my lungs. "That's ridiculous! Who could, or would, pay that for a wreck, especially one so badly damaged as that!?"

Al just shrugged. "Sorry, but that's the best I can do."

"What?" I repeated, feeling like I was repeatedly being punched in the guts.

"Seriously Al, that's a little over the top, isn't it?" Jones said, a deep crease in his brow. It looked strange on his normally cheerful face. I shot him what I hoped was a warm, thankful look, not quite able to believe that he was supporting me in this.

"I can't do anything, I'm sorry."

"Why!?" I all but wailed.

"Look, I don't actually own that wreck. It belongs to one of my employees who have just walked off the job and if you want it that's what you're gonna have to pay for it." Big Al honestly did look bad about what he was telling me, but my brain didn't really want to process that.

"Wait! Micky left!?" Jones yelled before tearing off through the garage in what I thought may well be a vain attempt to catch up to this 'Micky.'

"I can't afford that," I murmured, half to myself and half to Al. "Not if I want to truck it out of here and find a place to stay while I fix it up."

As you can see, I've never been very good at planning what to do with my life. In a way I suppose I repeatedly dig my own hole and then someone else comes along and helpfully kicks some dirt in for me.

"You could work for it," Al suggested. I wanted to roll my eyes; what did he think I was going to do? Beg on the streets? But then I saw the half-smile on his face and it wasn't a sleazy half-smile, but more the type of smile that suggested he'd come up with a plan to benefit the both of us. I just didn't know what said plan was yet.

"Huh?" I asked with undeniable verbal talent.

"You could work for it here," he repeated, and the adding of a single word made everything fallen in place. It was like the planets had just aligned for me or something. Maybe I should have read my horoscope. "Keep the car here, work on it in your spare time. You could live in the loft up top if you wanted."

"Why would you offer all of this to a perfect stranger?" I asked in utter bewilderment and – I won't deny it – a small degree of awe.

"I've seen people like you before Miss Havek," he replied with a soft look in his eyes. "Hell, I was one of 'em once. Good, honest people who've just had to get used to the world spitting on them."

"But why?" I pressed.

"All it takes is one good turn by someone, and it can change your life forever." Was his nonchalant response coupled with a shrug, but I could hear the distinct echo of experience in his voice.

I was silent for a moment. I had sworn to myself that I would leap for the first opportunity that presented itself and wrap it in a strangle hold. This was my chance.

"Yeah," I agreed, my head giddy with overwhelming gratitude. "Yeah, okay."

Big Al grinned broadly before clasping my small hand in both of his gigantic ones.

"It'll be great, Havek." He assured me.

"Hey Al?" I asked as he led the way to what I assumed was his office nestled away in a small, shadowy corner. He looked at me quizzically. "How'd you know I was a mechanic?"

"Only a mechanic's got hands like that," he nodded at my scarred and grease-stained hands and grinned again. "Now come on, there's paperwork to sign. If I can find it."

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Author's Note

Good Lord, that was one hell of a chapter to write haha. I'm writing this in a journal first, and I thought it would only be about two and a half thousand words when I typed it up, but I think I swamped that number.

Anyway, welcome to my story! Please please please review, because I have no idea if people like this story or not, and your input is going to have immense effects on what happens in this story. And if I screw anything up I seriously need to know so that I can fix it!

Please excuse my terrible editing skills! Feel free to nit-pick!

Oh! Last thing! To see what the Chevy Chevelle looks like put this

cloud9classics wp-content/uploads/2012/09/70CCSS1345891-400x300 . Jpeg

into your browser and remove the spaces.