Transformers is not owned by me. This is a one-shot that I hope you enjoy!


This is my Life Journal, my name is Kate and before you run off screaming that this is nothing more than a Mary Sue, just read. Really… I might surprise you.

My parents had me late in life. I was their blessing and joy and we had 20 wonderful years together before the worst happened. But I get ahead of myself a little.

In order to make ends meet, my father worked and my mother stayed home to care for me. They had no family and child care is tremendously expensive. My mom wanted to spend as much time with me while I was young, to help me grow into a good person and she didn't want to rely on someone else to do that.

Things worked well until my father's company bellied-up and with the economy not doing so good, we were forced to sell and set up a new life in some other little Podunk town. We got rid of things, downsized and all in all, it was fine although my dad had to work even harder than before. Despite being fit, his heart finally gave out.

Depts were paid because we sold things; the house, cars, everything and anything my mom could touch she sold and she did. Once we were free and clear of debt we found a tiny apartment and moved in together and got jobs. I was out of high school and had started junior college. The burden of job versus studying collapsed upon me and I opted to put off college and got a job at a law firm. I goffered, schlepped and worked my way up to assistant to one of the legal secretaries. That wasn't a grandiose title… assistant, translate it to 'slave.' But, it paid well enough that my mom and I were able to build up a small savings. A good thing too.

You guessed it, my mom got sick. After a pile of medical bills and debt she finally succumbed leaving me alone. Whatever you do after reading this, please don't feel sorry for me. I loved my parents and every moment I had with them, healthy, sick, whatever, it was a blessing. Their loss grieved me but I could not imagine what my life would be like without them.

So, I was forced to downsize again and then came the Chicago Disaster – you know, the one where the aliens tried to take the city? Yeah, that one. The economy for the state crashed, the law firm I worked for folded and its partners moved to various parts of the country. Nutshell, I was unemployed. So, following the example of before, I downsized again. It's amazing, just when you think you can't live without something, you find out you can.

So, now that that's out of the way, I've caught you up and it explains why I'm sitting in the library and writing this. I was using their computers to search for jobs. While I look for work, I live off the dole, unemployment and food stamps. I hated doing that, it feels like begging. I know, I know, I'm grateful and not complaining but I also know some folks who treat it like it's an entitlement, deserved, owed them. And that's okay, for them. I don't and that's okay too. I'd rather not argue about political philosophy when I'm looking at 3 months remaining on my unemployment benefits. I am more worried about what would happen to me if I don't get a job soon…

And with that thought and a heavy sigh, I gathered my things, which wasn't much. A sturdy purse that contained a cheap phone, cheap notebook, cheap pens, and a very flimsy wallet with somewhere in the ballpark of two dollars in change, enough to buy me my one indulgence; a coffee and muffin, and this journal. And now my real story begins.

I walked down busy city streets, past a myriad of public transportation options to save money and headed towards my favorite bakery and then home, such as it was. As I walked I checked various store windows for 'help wanted' signs and the like but mostly kept focused on those walking around me. I had the strap cross-wise and my purse gripped to my stomach under my sweater. The weather was still chilly so my posture made sense and didn't make me look like a victim waiting to be had.

I finally reached the outskirts and turned down a busy side-street that boasted of many mom and pop shops, including my favorite bakery. Sadly they didn't need help, I even volunteered to work for free and be paid in coffee and day-old whatever. No dice. I still keep trying, you never know.

This week, there was a bit of mild excitement on the street. A car was parked hear the bakery with its hood up as steam poured out. I say excitement in that the ladies, if you could call them that, from the salon nearby were hovering excitedly around the car and cooing. I couldn't blame them it was a bright yellow muscle car, a Camaro I think and a new one. That alone no doubt drew the harpies out of their den. New car meant money. I know you're probably thinking that's really mean of me, to call them harpies but I'd run afoul of them when I had the temerity to complain about a horrid cut I received. From then on I was an unhappy target of their verbal witticisms and taunts, when they weren't working. Which was sadly often, or at least whenever I happened to be walking by. Sigh.

The driver stepped out of the steam and the harpies converged on the pour soul. I could see why. He was tall, young and handsome. But he wasn't handsome in the way that you'd think of as a model, just handsome. His hair was dark blond and cut short but a little longer in front, clean shaven, and he had warm blue eyes. Actually, now that I think about it, he looks really distressed and now he's looking straight at me.

I blinked and flushed and thought, busted. Just as I was about to duck my head in shame for being caught staring he mouthed, 'help me.' I blinked and angled my head in an expression that clearly said, 'What? You talking to me?'

Without waiting for confirmation the blond pushed his way past the harpies and called out, "There you are! I'm so glad you got my call!" And then I was enveloped in a hug. Now the first reaction at being hugged by a handsome man should be, 'Oh yeah!' Not me, I froze and thought quite intelligently, 'Nughh?!'

His breath tickled the hair next to my ear as he whispered, "Please, I beg of you, help me. I can't get these women to leave me alone! Look, I'll buy you coffee, lunch, anything, but please… save me."

I pulled back and thought, yeah, I must be getting jacked, and quickly looked around for cameras. Not seeing any, I whispered warily, "Why don't you just tell them to go."

"Oh sweetie," one of the harpies called out to the man, "don't you go doin' that on us. We know she ain't your girl… Come on back sweetie and leave fugly alone. Hang with us we'll show you a good time!" I blinked at the woman and thought snidely did she learn English from the hooker channel?

Aloud I muttered, "Fugly? Where does she think she is? Grammar school?" His expression was priceless until I said softly to him, "I'm really sorry mister but you're a big guy. You don't need my help."

Then I stepped away with my brain screaming at me for being an idiot, and a few less polite words that I'll omit out of kindness.

Unfortunately the harpies would not allow me to gracefully retreat as two of them separated rather reluctantly from the car. One moved on the man with the precision of a homing missile, the other to stand in front of me.

If you could take away the low IQ and mean-spiritedness, this one particular harpie was a beauty. She was, I'm serious, she had flawless skin, blue eyes, lovely blond hair and a body that made men trip over themselves just to look at her. Not joking, I've literally seen it happen. She's the kind of woman you dread to be near in department stores, when the assistants flock to aid her and treat you like furniture, if you're lucky. There's a subtle bigotry people have regarding the beautiful. If you don't have it, they'll ignore you, treat you like dirt, push you aside to make room for the better looking one. Now, I'm not saying I'm ugly, not at all. It's just standing next to her is like a librarian standing next to Kate Moss. I kinda do look like a librarian and I wear glasses. So, close enough. Hmmm, I wonder if they're hiring?

Back to the beautiful harpie, well the beauty disappears the moment she opens her mouth, she's from New York, need I say more? Now mind, I'm not bashing New Yorkers, it's just that every one I've run into who talked like that was rude and downright mean. So, forgive the stereotyping it's just what I've experienced. Anyways, she placed a graceful and beautifully manicured hand on my chest and halted my escape and barked, "Why would a man like that pick a scrap of dirt like you?"

She gave me a hard shove and I stumbled backwards a little, "You're what… a whole 80 pounds of nothing? No boobs, no ass, … sorry sweetheart but you look more like a boy in drag." With that she shocked me by draping her arm over my shoulder and spinning me around as she glared at the man who owned the Camaro, "You seriously expect us to believe you're dating this?"

I pushed her away from me and looked up at the guy feeling utterly horrified. I expected to see agreement or worse, distaste. But when I looked up at him his expression was a mixture of shock, anger, pity…. It didn't matter what else because it was the pity that got me as I turned and snarled at her, "Get your hands off of me and leave me out this stupid little game." Yeah, real great comeback, I know. I never said I was witty… did I?

The man walked up to the harpie and leaned forward as he poked a finger into her bespangled, low-lying neckline, "What I like is my business and I really don't care what your opinion is, unless you're actually challenging me for her. Are you?"

The harpie's jaw dropped open with shock, "What?! You sayin' I'm gay?!"

I had to admit I was taken aback myself and flushed even more as my poor brain was assailed with romantic images of us, together. No, not me and him, me and her. I shook my head violently sending my short hair flying and it slapped me in the face. The sting helped but I don't think I'm ever going to wipe those images out of my mind without wanting to run to the toilet and purge. Often.

Again, in case you're offended, I'm not making a statement here. I'm just saying I'm straight and even if I wasn't I would NOT be with her. Ew. Now I need to do another mental purge.

To my shock and horror the man grabbed me and pulled me against his side possessively. I wish I could say I wasn't shocked but I was. And then he dismissed her by saying, "I really don't care what you are, you just leave us alone." With that he turned us both towards his car and whispered, "Look, I'm sorry I got you into this… just try to act natural and I'll try to figure a way out. Please?"

Do you ever have this mental hallway of doors? You know the one, the hall of consequences, where your choices have doors and what happens next when you choose one? I passed by the door marked 'him' the first time. If I went along with this, dare I pass that door again now that I've been given a second chance? My brain rightfully asked, second chance to what? Being a tool to scare women away? I sighed heavily and earned a glance from the man who whispered again, "Please."

Okay, I'll admit and accept shame. Even I can fall for a guy's blue eyes, chiseled chin, nice mouth…, "Alright."

The relief he expressed was amazing as he pulled me in and hugged me tightly, "Thank you."

Then, far too quickly for my taste, he released me leaving only his arm draping over my shoulder as he looked at the gathered harpies, "Show's over ladies. Move along, unless you don't mind helping. Although I can't promise you won't get dirty or break nails…."

To add further encouragement he let me go to pick up a greasy rag that was draped over the nose of the car in their direction. Would it surprise you to know that that simple action worked? One even shrieked. So, fool that I am, I had to ask him as he turned back to me, "Why didn't you try that in the first place?"

He leaned against the car suddenly looking either very tired or ill or both, "Didn't think of it until now."

"Are you okay," I asked as I touched his arm gently. He looked up and hit me again with his lovely blue eyes. Wow.

"I'm…," it looked like he wanted to say more and finished off lamely, "on a road trip. Pushed myself too hard and stopped here because of this." With that he motioned to his engine, "See?"

"Yeah," I said sagely as I looked at the massive engine. Then I shook my head, "Unfortunately I know nothing about cars. All I can say is you probably need water in your radiator, at least it's stopped steaming."

He chuckled, "Yeah." With that he ran his hand through is hair mussing it up and sadly making himself look even more approachable. Damn the man.

"So…," I said trying to leave gracefully.

"I could use the help," he said interrupting me, "all you have to do is what I tell you and that's it. I just need another pair of hands." He looked at my clothing, "But I'm afraid you might get a little dirty…."

I looked down at my blouse and sweater and shrugged, "Goodwill, and I know a few tricks." With that I pulled off my sweater and looked around for a place to put it. He opened the car door, "Here. Set your things down here."

I walked over and did so not intending to brush against him, when I did I mumbled, "Sorry." Did I mention he was rather fit? Not bulky but not lean either, he was a nice blending of the two and smelled… wonderful.

He closed the door tiredly, "That's okay, I probably did that, like I said I'm beat. Come on, the sooner we get me fixed up the sooner we're out of here."

I chuckled at that, "You, I can fix with a good cup of coffee. Your car? You'd better call a mechanic."

He smiled at that as he handed me the rag and gently pointed at the engine, "Why don't you just reach over that and give that cap there, a twist. See, not too hard. That's why I didn't ask one of the guys around here to help. They're always too rough on me…. My car."

I didn't catch the slip and simply reached over the over-heated engine to do just that, "Okay, what next."

He looked away thoughtfully and I wondered why, until he said, "Okay, I'm gonna crawl under and see what I can do down there. Would you check my oil and see how much water is left in the reservoir?" When I pointed at what I thought was the right stick he smiled kindly and then pointed at another. And then he pointed at the water reservoir. With a nod he crawled rather awkwardly under the front of the car.

"Be careful," I warned suddenly afraid and seeing images of squashed person flit through my mind.

"Trust me," the man called out, "I'm always careful."

At that I chuckled and pulled out the dip stick, wiped it, and pushed it in again gently. It was a new car, I didn't want to ruin it. I pulled it out again and said, "It reads low and it's starting to turn brown." I put the stick back into it's slot and then checked the water reservoir, "You're also low on water too. That I can fix. I'll be right back… oh, my name's Katie by the way. What's yours?"

"B," he said.

"B?" It was clear I thought the name was rather… odd.

"I hate it when people laugh at me when I tell them my name," B answered, "so I shortened it."

I laughed at that, "That's really short. So, what, your name… is like Bernard? Buster? Bastion? Bartholomew? Baily?"

He laughed heartily, "Woah, stop, stop, look, if you stick around long enough for me to buy you lunch or something I might… might… tell you what it really is. No promises tho."

With a nod and a smile I answered, "Okay then, I'll be right back with the water."

"Sounds good," B called back as I turned and headed towards the bakery. Because of the nature of the city, such events were commonplace and the attraction of a bright yellow Camaro turned into trivial as the normal business of the day went on.

Inside the bakery I called out, "Hey Joanie… the guy with the broke down Camaro needs some water. Could I borrow a pitcher?"

"Yeah sure sweetie, just bring it back the way you found it," Joanie answered as she placed a large plastic pitcher on the counter.

Once the car's reservoir was filled and the pitcher returned I walked out to meet B as he looked at the engine of his car thoughtfully. I stopped beside him and asked, "So, do you think it will start?"

He chuckled at that and for a moment got a sort of mischievous glint to his eye. Then he straightened and became serious, "Well, let's find out." With that he went over to the driver's side and got in. Within moments the engine rumbled to life and I was relieved to see no smoke or steam pouring from it. So, I closed my eyes and listened to the throbbing pulse of the motor.

B got out and stood beside me as I mumbled, "Sounds good."

I opened my eyes and reached up to the hood and unhooked the arm and lowered it carefully into place. I took the same care with the hood and snapped it firmly closed, "There. Well, I guess you'd know better than me but at least I think the timing's okay."

"Timing?"

"Well, the pulse of the engine… it sounds steady, not too fast not too slow and it isn't missing a beat. That's all I'm saying, I dunno if it's timing per se…," I felt my skin flush with embarrassment as I trailed off into silence.

"So," he said as he leaned against the nose of the car, "you like the sound of my engine, huh?"

If I could blush even more, I probably did and nodded, "Motorcycle engines sound too high pitched and whiny. They never sound right, like there's something wrong and just about to break. When I hear a diesel engine or a muscle car, it sounds right. Well, except for Harley's, I draw the line at those, too noisy."

"Glad to hear it," he said and if it were possible he seemed to puff up at that. I wrote it off to cars being an extension of men's egos and left it at that as he got back into the car to turn it off.

When he returned I asked out of curiosity, "So, why were you pushing yourself so hard to get here?"

That changed his expression entirely and I almost kicked myself for asking. He stood up and did a small turn and looked around him. Although I have zero by way of experience with soldiers, that's sort of the feeling I got, at least from what TV and movies I've watched. That or a cop, but why would a cop be in a hurry? He relaxed, "So what are you doing here?"

I blinked, "I live around here. I like Joanie's Bakery and I treat myself every once in a while. Today's the lucky day."

He smiled and looked over at the shop, "Well then, don't let me stop you. However, in gratitude for your assistance, I'll pay."

I shrugged as we walked into the shop. He bought two coffees and a muffin for me. Once we were seated he chuckled at the amount of cream and sugar I poured into mine, "Why do you even drink the stuff if you have to supplement it like that?"

I shrugged, "I love the smell, hate the taste without cream and sugar. I suppose I should drink tea but it's too pricey, comparatively speaking."

He nodded and looked out the window at his Camaro for a moment, his expression distant as if he were listening to something going on outside.

"So," I said after I finished my muffin, "you said you came along way, were you moving here?"

He answered instead with a question, "What do you do? Work I mean."

"I'm unemployed, sadly," I said as I finished the last of my coffee with a contented sigh. "I was just coming back from the library doing job searches when I saw you stranded. You?"

"In between jobs," he muttered as he rose to his feet. I gathered my stuff and we tossed it all into the trash.

As we walked out to the car I patted myself frantically, "My purse!"

"Don't you remember," he said with a grin, "you put them in my car." With a sigh of relief we walked over and he opened the door to show me that my stuff was exactly where I put it. I pulled on my sweater and reached for my purse when he asked, "How about I give you a lift home."

The hall of consequences opened up in my brain as I stared up at him blankly, do I show a man I don't know where I live or let a handsome stranger in a gorgeous car drive me home? My expression must've showed my indecision and B laughed, "Just get in, you'll be safe."

As I sat down my mom's voice popped into my head, "What have I told you about riding home with strangers?"

I should've thanked him politely and gotten out then and there but when he sat down and smiled at me, I was grateful so I stayed. There was not a predatory or murderous look about him at all and I could hear my father's voice remind me, "The best predators are the ones you don't know about until it's too late."

'Thanks dad,' I thought sourly and then all thoughts vanished when the Camaro's engine ignited. Well, I guess that's the best way to describe it because I felt like I was sitting on a rocket. I wasn't entirely able to cover my awe-struck gasp and hoped he hadn't heard me.

He did and grinned thoroughly pleased with my reaction, "Yeah, I love the sound too. So, where?"

"Truthfully, would you mind if we just drove around for a while and then you can drop me off here and we can call it even?" 'There mom,' I thought, 'I'm kinda doing the smart thing.'

B shrugged and pulled out slowly, taking care as he maneuvered through traffic. When traffic cleared enough he grinned and floored it. I squealed. Yeah, I know, but let's face it I was impressed and feeling girly. It was kinda nice feeling, being girly for a change. It doesn't happen often, if at all, and I was going to enjoy it.

B seemed to like my reaction and we sped around town, slowing to avoid traffic and unwanted police attention. Finally when he pulled back into my neighborhood, it was dark and the less-then-savory characters were out in full force. When he pulled to a stop next to the bakery he said, "Look, I know you don't want me to know where you live but I wouldn't be able to live with myself letting you off here without knowing you made it home safe. I know you don't know me but I just want to make sure you get home without some jerk mugging you or… worse."

I opened my mouth and, mom, I really did try to say no, but instead out popped, "Okay."

We were back on the road and driving even deeper into the 'neighborhood'. He looked at me and frowned, "You live here?"

I shrugged, "I was out of a job and needed a roof over my head. It was the cheapest place I could find, I need to make my money stretch… You know how it is."

B shook his head and didn't really answer although by his expression he wasn't very happy. Almost bordering on… angry? Why? I pointed towards a small apartment complex squeezed in between two others, "Right there, that one."

Unfortunately there was no place to park. It was Saturday night the street was crowded with vehicular and pedestrian traffic. Double-parking the Camaro at that moment was going to cause more trouble that it was worth so I said, "Do you see that driveway there? Pull in and drive all the way in the back. My slot is C, you can park in it. Folks get really mean if you double-park and I don't want to see your car scratched."

Yeah, right. Well, sort of right. More along the lines of jacked, stolen, B beat up or worse, not like they couldn't follow us, but at least I could call the cops. Yeah. What is that saying, when seconds count the police are minutes away?

B pulled in and looked up and around warily. My complex was literally shoved in between two others with just enough room for the road and building and nothing more. In order to create a parking area, the back end of the complex was elevated onto raised pillars. When he parked we squeezed out and he walked me to my door. When I opened the door he peered inside and frowned even more, then he pushed his way inside, "You live in this…?!"

I sighed heavily and shut the door behind me. Why you ask? It costs money to heat the room and I'll be darned if I'd help heat outside to boot! B stood in the middle of my studio apartment and regarded my meager possessions with a baleful eye.

"Look," I explained as I walked into the kitchen and put on a kettle of water, "I had to make do. Things are tight and this is all I can afford. Besides, it's easier to move when you don't have much. Especially a car."

He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. I didn't have any chairs and he said, "You don't have a car?" Then he shook his head, "Why else was I able to park in your spot… yeah, dumb question."

"No, it's okay. I'm going to make some coffee, want some?" By way of answer he shook his head and then sagged a little against the counter so I asked again, "You sure? You really look beat."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said as he stood up and sighed, "I've gotta go find a place to crash."

You guessed it, the hall of consequences opened up in my head again as my first response was to offer him a place to stay. I could also hear my mother lecturing me about the fact that I didn't know diddly about the man and letting him stay the night. Sheer lunacy. Did that stop me?

"You could crash here," slipped out before my mother's voice finished shouting at me.

No, I'm not insane, really. I just have a very loud conscience that takes the form of my parents on a situational basis. Annoying, but it helped that I loved my parents. Oh, you meant was I insane for letting B stay? Yeah, well, I guess I am.

B looked over at me hopefully and then looked into the main room, such as it was and said drolly, "Thanks… I guess I'll… sleep on the floor?"

I laughed. You see one of the things I had to surrender to living on the cheap was furniture. So, my living room boasted of nothing more than a few boxes that served dual purpose as tables and a rather large folded up futon with blankets on top. Very Japanese, I thought. Anyway, I muttered defensively, "At least there's plenty of room to spread out on."

He turned and arched a brow at me as I poured the hot water into a mug with instant coffee. He chuckled when I reached into the refrigerator and took out a few cups of creamer that I must say with shame I nicked from Joanie's. I don't take much, just one extra with every visit. And someday I'll pay her back for the lot, I promise.

I sipped my hot coffee and motioned to the empty nook that should've had a table, "Dining area." I walked into the living room, "Living room by day, bedroom by night." Then I pulled the sliding door on the back wall open, "Closet." And then I motioned to a separate door on the opposite wall of the kitchen, "Bath. There you go, home sweet home, until I get a job and can afford a better place."

We sat on the floor, talked and got better acquainted, as they'd say in the movies. I found that B had a lovely sense of humor but unfortunately wasn't very forthcoming about himself personally. So, did that mean he was married? Criminal? Both?

I could hear my mom in the background of my head tapping her foot clearly saying without doing so, "See… You don't know anything about him and now he's in your apartment."

It got late and we were both tired so he helped me open up the futon. In the bathroom, I changed into sweats and in the main room he changed into light pants and a t-shirt as well. The futon was a queen, the price was right, so at least there was plenty of room. With blankets covering us, him on one side and me as far over as I could get without being on the floor, I closed my eyes and wondered if I was making a terrible mistake.

I awoke the next morning with an arm wrapped possessively around my middle and my back pressed against a warm surface. I suppose I should've been terrified but somehow I just felt safe and protected. Instead of being terrified, I felt utter bliss. I couldn't remember the last time I was held and I hadn't realized how much I missed it until now. Damn the man.

I knew I'd better eliminate the contact or worse might happen so I gently pulled his arm up and rolled away. It was more embarrassing because when I looked up he was wide awake and smiling at me. With a cheeky grin he said with a heavy southern accent, "Don't worry ma'am nuthin' inappropriate happened, while you was asleep. Can't say now that yer awake, but I am a perfect gentleman."

I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes and tried to smooth down my hair as I checked my clothing. Shirt in place, check, pants in place, check. I looked up at him and tried to look fierce, "I hope so for your sake, 'cause if not…." I tried to end that as menacingly as possible.

Who knew he'd find that amusing. So, the mature adult I was, I pushed him over in retaliation. I wasn't expecting he'd grab onto my arm and pull me over with him. Or that I'd end up sitting on top of him. And that surprisingly ended the 'moment' as he gently helped me off, "Like I said ma'am, I'm a perfect gentleman."

I repeat, damn the man.

And then I proceeded to give myself several mental smack-downs and had intense arguments about why a reasonable woman should not take advantage of a handsome man in her apartment. Who won? Nature did and not the kind you were thinking, if you think that way. For the rest of us, I need not explain more. I mean seriously, who wants to read about that? Not me, so I ain't writin' it!

He wouldn't let me make breakfast and said he'd get something for us and I watched him leave. I heard the rumble of the Camaro fire up and heard it leave. Could've been because of the engine or the thin walls… I vote thin walls. Anyway, I took the opportunity to take a shower and hoped that maybe he'd come back and a part of me felt crushed thinking… what if he didn't?

I put on some makeup and combed my short brown hair. Once my glasses were back on I admired my reflection and then sighed with disappointment. What I wouldn't give to look like that blond harpy, but I have what I have. My reflection shrugged and I left the bathroom.

I tidied up my room, put away the futon and cleaned up what little dishes there were in the sink and made more instant coffee. When B hadn't returned I could feel my chest tighten. It amazed me how easily I could fall for a guy I didn't even know. Well, it's for the best, I thought and then the familiar rumble of a muscle car had me look up out of the kitchen window to see the bright yellow Camaro park in my stall.

I swallowed and felt my heart flutter as I chided myself aloud, "I. Am. A. Complete. And. Utter. Fool."

He walked into the apartment holding up a huge bag of food with an equally huge grin on his face, "I hope you're hungry?"

And that was the start of our whirlwind romance. I don't want to bore you with details, suffice it to say we ate and talked, then we went out for a walk. When it got too chilly we went for a drive. He stayed.

And he was a complete gentleman. Really. Nothing happened. Damn the man.

A day turned into a week, then a month. He never really talked much about work. The best I got out of him was that he was in the military and had served in several campaigns, the most recent being Chicago. He said he was on extended leave because of that. And yes, if you must know he did use the line, "If I tell you I'd have to kill you." And like a fool I sucked it up hook, line and sinker.

A relationship developed out of the friendship and all the while he helped me find a job and a better place to live. I was able to afford a TV, cable, a computer with internet access, wow, I was really moving up in the world. B would leave me from time to time, he said it was work related, activated, but still he wouldn't tell me what he did. Not even his last name. Really? You wonder why I believed all that?

I do too now, but then? I was so utterly, blindly in love he could've told me he was one of those crazy aliens from outer space and I would've believed him. He wasn't, just in case you were wondering. I asked. Only because on TV they said one of the aliens was a yellow Camaro. B just said it was because the alien had taste.

One day the car started up before he'd reached the ignition and I asked again. He laughed at that, but now that I think about it, he never actually came straight out and said no…. He explained it off as a short in the steering wheel. But, come to think of it, it was a rather odd laugh. Mental slap… Stop it. He left. He's gone… that's it. End of wild romance. I shouldn't try to make excuses for him with flights of fancy. Face facts, he left me and didn't come back. Period.

So, as I said, one day he was there holding me close, the next day he and his wonderful Camaro were gone. All that he left behind was a white credit card, his carte blanche he said, and a little surprise by way of morning sickness.

Yep. You guessed it the first time.

Nine months later I'm holding a beautiful little girl I named Elle. I know, name sounds silly but I was watching Legally Blond and my little girl had the loveliest golden curls and blue eyes. So yep, she's named after Elle Woods.

Interesting thing about B's carte blanche, it never expired. I was grateful for that, it helped keep things going while I was on maternity leave. It helped me buy a cheap car and sundries, I wasn't extravagant, I didn't want to lose the card by being crazy.

I will admit that the tears stopped falling after about two years of Elle's life, and after five I stopped reacting to the sound of a muscle car or the flash of yellow. It didn't stop me from missing him and I'll be honest, my heart hurt. Elle kept me going. Her smile was so much like B's, her blue eyes, and her up-beat personality.

I gained a little weight, a few stretch marks, and was gainfully employed at a law firm that actually was okay with the fact that I had to bring my kid to work after school. You gotta love defense attorneys, they're so much more laid back than your typical slip and fall dudes. Chuckle, dudes. You can tell I'm a little sleep deprived, you try to sleep with a nine year old who has a very active imagination.

You see, we still live economically so why have two bedrooms? We share a bed, although I think next time I'm getting twins. Yep, you guessed it, I'm in the bathroom with tissues up my nose – she bopped on the nose in her sleep again.

With a TV now in place I could catch up with the news and lo, the aliens were back or rather, they'd never left. Something was going on, I guess the government was angry about Chicago and had it out for all of them. Even the ones that helped save us. There was an all-out campaign to find them and capture them.

Elle once asked, "Momma, if the good aliens helped us fight against the bad aliens, why are we being mean to them?"

"Good question," I answered as I made dinner, "I wish I knew because it seems to me they're heros."

"Yep," my daughter mumbled in response. She found the idea of aliens fascinating and any time there was anything about them on the TV she was glued to the set. She'd started to keep a journal of her own and make notes of the robots. She knew their leader was called Optimus Prime and he could turn into a huge semi. There was a robot doctor called Ratchet who could turn into a Hummer. There were others, but the one she adored the most just happened to be a yellow robot called Bumblebee and his vehicle of choice was a Camaro. Sigh. The universe hates me.

Remember my earlier comment about falling for an alien robot? Would it really be that much of a stretch to link said alien yellow Camaro to B's yellow Camaro…? Yeah, no?

Aside from the practical reality of metallic+organic does not equal baby… it made for a fun romantic reason for being abandoned than some deadbeat guy leaving me high and dry and pregnant. Although he did leave me with an amazing credit card and he never came back for it…. Which is odd, why didn't he?

Life with Elle was amazing, hair-pulling, but nothing unusual except to say that although I'm not happy he left me, I'm happy with what I was left with. Anyway, said little adorable ball of 9 year old was happily messing… scratch that… destroying my office… cube. She'd found the hole punch and the colored paper. There were little colored circles of paper everywhere….

My boss called me on the phone as I looked at the disaster, "Katie, I've a new client. I need to you to bring in some drinks and make a few copies before he has to leave."

I turned to my little blond terror with a sigh, "Elle, stay in my cube and please, pick up all the confetti and put it in the trash." The little genius quickly turned towards her back pack as I headed out of the office so I added, "And I mean trash can. If I find one piece of confetti in your backpack, pockets, lunch bag, underwear, anything, you will be one sorry little girl. Capiche?"

"Yes, mommy," came the disappointed reply. I chuckled, she forgets, I was a kid once too.

I went to my boss's office with a tray of glasses and ice. Once inside, I set the tray on the credenza and bent down to open the cabinet that held sodas, "What would you like, sir?"

Kincade, my boss was an easy call as I pulled out a can of Coke and set that on the tray. I looked over my shoulder and looked at his newest client. He was a tall man with dusty curls and blue eyes that crinkled at the edges, "I'm not a sir, just Jake, and I'll have club soda please."

I plucked up the can and opened both and poured some into the glasses. I took the tray over and deposited the glasses and cans on the table and tucked the tray under my arm. Kincade handed over a packet of files, "One copy, thanks."

I nodded and left the office with the odd sensation that the new client was watching me. Brrrr, creepy.

Once the copies were made, I checked in my cube to see what Elle was up to and thankfully the colorful paper disaster was now contained in the trash, I hope. At the moment she was busy drawing yellow bumblebees on paper and looked up at me with a grin, "What do you think?"

"Great! Did you finish your homework?"

Her expression was expected and made me laugh, "Then hop to it young lady! Just leave the questions you can't answer for us to do after dinner." She stuck her tongue out at me and I shook my head at her by way of rebuke. A deeper chuckle behind me made me turn my head and I noticed my boss's client standing in the hallway looking over at my little girl.

She, the innocent soul that she was, simply grinned at her new audience and held up her drawing, "See! This is much more fun to do than homework, right?"

He laughed, "Agreed." Then he turned to me to explain, "Mr. Kincade wanted to know where those copies were and I needed to stretch."

"Oh," I said eager to get said stranger away from my child, "I have them, this way please."

He grinned knowingly at me as I none-to-gently nudged him away. Still I felt I ought to explain my rather abrupt behavior and said, "Mr. Kincade doesn't like clients wandering the halls. Unless you need to use the restroom and he has one in his office."

"No problem, I just like to get a better look at whom I'm hiring to represent me," he said as he took his seat. Mr. Kincade was still gone and I frowned at the vacated seat as I dropped the copies on the desk.

"Okay, I'll let him know the copies are done. Is there anything else I can get you?" It was obvious by my tone that the correct answer was no.

Instead he asked, "So, are you his secretary?"

I shook my head, "No, an assistant." I turned to leave when he asked, "What's your name?"

I stopped in the doorway and cursed my wandering boss for his absence and answered politely, "Ms. Campbell, Katie Campbell. If you'll excuse me…."

"Married?"

With that I arched a brow at him, "That… is none of your business." To make sure he stayed put this time I shut the door. The temerity of the man. Do you know he laughed?!

Needless to say I was rather in a snit by the time I made it to my desk. Look, I'll be honest with you, I'm not a beauty but I'm not 'unfortunate' either. What I am, however, is a single woman with a child and sadly these days it makes me the perfect target for predators. I have one very beautiful reason to adhere to a strict no-dating policy and she was currently embracing me. Not because she loved me but because she didn't do her homework and was hoping the hug would lessen the sentence. Smart kid.

And darn it, she has another runny nose.

Luckily for me, Jake, did not return to the office the next day. But what did haunt me were his eyes, they were the same shade of blue as B's were, as Elle's are. And it made me miss B all over again.

Weeks later I was walking back to the office with Elle in tow after picking her up from school. In the parking lot was a bright yellow VW 181 Thing with a soft top roof in black. I gaped and Elle, shouted out, "Mommy look at that, it kinda looks like a bumblebee don't you think?"

I couldn't stop my heart from pounding as I shook my head, "Yeah. And I think that's a rare car, I'm pretty sure they don't make those things anymore." No pun intended, I thought to myself as we walked through the parking lot and into the entrance. In the lobby, seated and apparently pleased as punch was Jake.

Lovely.

The minute he saw us come through the door he was on his feet and greeting us happily as my daughter chattered about the yellow Thing and guess what? You can see this coming can't you? I did. Motherhood and sarcasm aside, I was right. It was his. Damn the man.

To make matters worse my little girl wanted a ride and Jake was pleased to grant such a request as two pairs of very expectant eyes turned on me. Great, make me the bad guy why don't ya?

"Sir," I said politely as my little girl deflated recognizing the tone for what it was, "I cannot take any more time off and it's inappropriate to fraternize with clients." I held out my hand and commanded Elle, "Come on."

Elle and I held a silent glaring contest and eventually she acceded as she held out her hand and took mine. She looked up at the man and muttered and apology as I quickly herded my little one away from the guy as she whined, "Why?"

When we got back to my office, I looked out to see if anyone was listening and knelt before my little girl, "Because sweetie, there are bad people out there who love little kids the wrong way."

"He doesn't seem bad to me," she argued hotly.

I sighed, "I know. Sometimes they don't look bad. The problem is you don't know who's good and who's not, so it's smarter not to put yourself into harm's way. Now look, mommy has work to do. Get out your homework and get cracking. If you finish it I might be motivated to pick up a treat on the way home."

She eyed me warily, "Promise?"

I nodded, "Promise. Now get to work!"

With that I returned to my desk and worked on the huge stack that had accumulated during my break. Working frantically to diminish the stack had me dashing from my desk to the copier multiple times, making folders, running various errands all of which made my day speed by. When the clock hit 5 Jake appeared at my desk.

Seriously, doesn't the guy get a clue?

Unperturbed by my glare he asked, "I've been told 5 p.m. is quitting time around here and I'll bet there are two lovely ladies in need of dinner and I was hoping I might be able to chaperone you two. What do you say?" What a smile he had, it reminded me of… damn the man. Double damn.

Elle hopped off her seat and proudly held up her homework folder, "Momma, I finished EVERYTHING, can we go, please, please, please… you promised a treat and please, mommy? I wanna ride in Bumblebee!"

Was it my imagination or did Jake start in surprise at the mention of Bumblebee?

The expression vanished as both turned on me again. When Jake realized they were losing the battle he quickly added, "It's my treat, no limit, and I'll return you both back to the office." He held up his hands in surrender all the while being chorused by a little girl's repeated 'please'.

I sighed and both crowed with success as I gathered our jackets. I left her backpack and grabbed my purse as I confirmed, "Dinner and back, no side trips."

"Agreed," he said pleased as he held out an arm to each of us and escorted us out of the building. When he helped me into the car, his arm against my back made me shiver. When I looked up into his face it was like seeing B but not, I had to look away. I needed to rein in my hormones or something because my imagination had grown four hooves and a tail and was running hell-bent-for-leather or whatever that saying is. Either way, I was in trouble and I knew it. Thing is, I think he did too.

Dinner was fabulous. We ate at a pricey place, he obviously pulled out all the stops. It was… nice… being treated so well and I had to admit feeling envious that this wasn't real. Elle gorged herself on everything, charmed the waiter who utterly ignored my existence and brought her the largest piece of chocolate cake I'd ever seen. She did her best to finish it and when she couldn't the waiter returned with a box tied with a bright red bow and assured her she could take the rest home. He'd even added an additional slice for tomorrow.

I had to take her to the bathroom and try to wash off most of the chocolate and we succeeded, the clothing would require special attention later. All in all, I had to drag a very full and sleepy child back to Jake who seemed likewise content. Unfortunately he had to carry Elle out to the car because she was tired but she didn't fall asleep. The Thing's engine and lack of heat can do that to anybody as we rumbled back to the office. Once she was belted into my car, Jake leaned against the door, "Thanks for the evening. I hope you might consider doing this again sometime?"

I couldn't be rude so I smiled politely and offered a, "We'll see." as Elle yelled her goodbyes and see you soons. He stepped back from my car as I backed out. When I drove away I felt the lack of him physically. I shook my head to clear out the idiocy… didn't work, and I drove home.

As the weeks rolled on spring morphed into summer and now school was out. Translate to Elle being in my office my entire working day. Thank you kind employer for allowing me that boon. I did have two weeks of vacation scheduled later in the month but until then she was stuck in a boring old office with not a whole lot to do. Not even the Brain books for Grade 4 helped, novels, I even managed to pick up a Kindle and had books for her to read.

It was one rather hot afternoon that Jake showed up in the office again carrying a basketball and leaned on my desk, "So, I hear there's a kid who's sick of being cooped up."

I looked up and frowned, "No."

"Mom!" Elle complained, "I am bored and I'm terrible at basketball. Everybody makes fun of me and if I get better they won't laugh."

Jake leaned over and winked, "I'm a pretty good teacher…."

He stopped when I murmured softly, "I'll bet…."

He retorted, "I always hit what I aim for…."

I countered, "This time you're going to miss…."

He grinned back, "I'll take that challenge but I'm not sure we're talking about the same thing." His eyes said differently as he said, "I was referring to basketball… what were you talking about?"

I frowned at him as he smirked back and held out the ball to Elle who practically bounced up and down. She was tall for a nine year old at 4'5" and a very lithe but was still a little awkward physically. Truthfully she could benefit from the exercise.

I looked up at the clock and then pulled open my bottom drawer to grab an extra a pair of tennis shoes I stored there for moments like these, "Fine but only if I'm there. You will not go out with anybody else alone."

The later emphasis was for Jake and he knew it. In answer he smiled as he waited for me to put on my sneakers. The three of us headed out the back of the office building, the lawyers had reserved a few parking spots for a basketball court.

It was the rage lately in the office for the lawyers to play ball, especially when they were in trial to get out their frustration and to exercise. We were abutted against a park so if that didn't help there were paths you could walk and enjoy the day.

I watched Jake with narrowed eyes as he worked with my daughter on setting up shots. He would look up from time to time and note my glare and at one point he seemed almost sad. If he thought that was going to work on me it won't. Not going to work. Nope. Never.

He stepped away from Elle to let her practice and walked over to me, "I'm not going to hurt you or Elle."

I didn't answer as I noticed peripherally he was about the same height as B was. I looked away and sighed knowing he'd be expecting an answer, "That might be true but a smart mom doesn't take chances. One mistake is all it takes." I looked up at him hoping he'd understand.

I was surprised to note the sadness in his eyes and he nodded, "Life is precious so I can't blame you for being overly protective. If the situation were reversed I'd probably react the same way."

"Good, now that we understand one another you'll understand why I can't see you anymore," I answered.

"You're not married," he asked even though it came out as more of a statement.

"No," I answered as Elle bounced up and down after finally making a shot. "Good one Elle! Try again!"

"Why," he asked gently. I glared up at him for pressing me and was about to say something when he quickly motioned me not to. "I know, I know, none of my business."

"Right," I muttered as Elle ran back and forth doing her best to dribble and shoot. She was actually improving which was very encouraging. I should take her out more.

"I'd like to see you but not if you're married," he said. "Look, I like you and I adore Elle. I…." When he stopped talking I turned to look at him and he simply shook his head.

I decided to give the guy a break and tell him the truth, "Thanks for asking, but I made a vow that I wouldn't see anybody until Elle was an adult. There are too many men out there who would use me to get to her and I don't want to make another mistake." Woops. Maybe he wouldn't notice that.

"Mistake," he asked. Damn, he did.

"Personal," I said hoping to end the conversation. "Anyway, thank you for helping my daughter with her basketball and as much as I'd like to let her continue to play my break is over." With that I shouted loudly, "Elle! Break is over, come on we need to go in. Thank Jake for loaning you the ball!"

In a perfect world, my perfect little girl would've danced over to me with the ball and we would've walked happily inside leaving Jake to his own devices.

But, it was not a perfect world and Elle was a regular nine year old who promptly had a melt-down. It was embarrassing and humiliating and just as I was about to resort to picking her up and carrying her bodily into work, Jake stepped in. Good thing, I wasn't sure I could carry a struggling 70 pound child.

He walked over to the screaming little girl and whispered something to her. It took several tries before she finally settled down to dramatic sniffles and then gave him a weak smile. He looked up at me and then to her and said encouragingly, "Go on…."

With the basketball in hand she walked over to me, "I'm sorry mommy. Jake said if I was good he'd let me have the basketball but only if I went inside and stopped making a fuss. But he said that's only if you said it was okay."

Who could say no to that? I looked up at him and nodded, "Thank you Jake. Come on Elle, let's go inside and get some water…."

She put her arm around my waist and sniffled all the way back into the building with Jake in tow. I kept looking back, his expression was one of concern and worry. When he looked up at me I shook my head and mouthed, 'she's fine.' He blinked and seemed to feel slightly better and it made my chest ache.

I had to look away, there was just something in his gaze… a wistful longing that made me wonder more about the man but between my mom's inner warning flare and work it was eventually forgotten.

I would like to think that I'm a smart woman and wouldn't let Jake worm his way into our life. But he did. He just had this charm that reminded me so much of B that I couldn't say no. Which should've been an even bigger reason to say no but I didn't.

Visits at the office turned into a weekly tradition of dinner out. Then Saturday visits were added in and before long he was a regular guest in our tiny apartment. When he first came he actually walked around the place almost assessing it as if he were deciding if it was a good place to live in or not. It offended me at first, but when he explained he had a background in security it made sense. He wanted us to be safe. Could I fault the man for that?

Now, you're probably wondering if I allowed Jake to get closer? I couldn't. As much as he tried B was still stuck in my heart. Funny thing was, Jake didn't seem to mind.

News reports on the aliens took center state again and little Elle was upset about that. Reporters learned that a section of our government went rogue and was hunting them down, the good robots that is. Elle just corrected me. Instead of being in bed sleeping she was reading over my shoulder. I rebuked her, "Shouldn't you be in bed young lady?" Once she was in bed I wrote… am writing… Autobot.

Jake apparently knew a lot of what was going on and he and Elle would spend time while I prepared dinner to talk about the robots. Who knew they were sentient? That they came from a planet called Cybertron and that their world was destroyed? The day Jake told her about Cybertron Elle cried. Cried for all the dead and for any Cybertronians left alive who could never go home. The look on Jake's face was touching as he held Elle to him, as if he too shared the anguish of a race he'd never seen. When our eyes met I felt my heart squeeze. Damn the man.

I went back to the kitchen and flinched when I felt his arms wrap around me and I begged, "Please don't."

He turned me around and asked, "Why not?" That's when I told him about B. Instead of being angry or trying to convince me to change my mind he smiled and said, "To have a woman like you to love? He'd be a fool to go and it doesn't sound like he was a fool. I'm sure he had a good reason to go. Didn't you say he was in the military? Maybe he was called up and since he couldn't tell you what he did, maybe he couldn't tell you why he had to go."

"It all sounds nice," I said as I set the food out on the table, "but it's all just guessing. So, for what it's worth, I'm sorry I just can't give you more."

When I called Elle to the table he looked up at me and said firmly, "This… is perfect, just as it is."

Is it possible to love another?

The next day at work, when I was walking past reception I noticed a line of military vehicles roar past and looked at the receptionist in surprise and muttered, "That's odd." She nodded.

I thought nothing more of that as I went about my tasks when Jake suddenly appeared at my desk. There was a look about him that was different. Instead of relaxed, he was anxious, worried, and then he said, almost begging me, "How about I take you ladies out for ice cream?"

He knew my daughter well, that or she trained him well, kids are smarter than you give them credit for. I know, she's manipulated me handily on several occasions, that I know of. And with gleeful shrieks and begging between the both of them, she doing the shrieking he the begging, it left me wondering just who was the child. Either way, I agreed.

So we piled into his yellow Thing and headed down the street. When we passed Baskin Robbins I asked, "Jake?"

"Not here," he said tensely as he moved into traffic. Why was it, that at the oddest times I always seemed to see B superimposed over Jake? When he turned his expression was worried, "There's something you should know..."

Just when I thought things were looking up, a mental bucket of ice water hit me full on.

"What," and it was not a question, more of a challenge. One that begged, please don't be a wacko, please don't tell me you're a criminal being chased by the cops, please don't tell me….

"I'm in the military and… slag it, there's just no easy way to say things so I'm just going to come right out and say them. Scream if you want, just let me finish," he said and I watched with my mouth open as his features transformed with little flickers of light into that of B.

Elle screamed. Good for her, because that meant her brain was working. As for me, nothing came out of my mouth. It was like my entire body stalled and did a pretty darned good imitation of fish out of water.

B looked back and said to the screaming child, "Elle, I'm Jake and I'm also B your father. I'm going to have to do something to the car, it's not going to hurt you but it's going to change. So be ready. Here we go…."

Just as he spoke the Thing morphed down to the Camaro I'd remembered from so long ago. He looked at my expression terrified that I wouldn't accept him as he begged, "I'm so sorry Katie. Please give me a chance to explain."

"Why?" Was the best I could squeeze out of my mouth as years of pain and anger, everything, clamored inside my head and squeezed my throat shut. My heart, felt like it was being torn out and stomped on again.

"I couldn't tell you much because of who, what I am," he said as he looked in his rear view and motored carefully out of the city.

"You said you were in the military, were you lying," good, I finally hit the angry stage. I hate the vapid can't speak stage, as a result my words weren't very kind.

He looked over and I could tell he was truly sorry, "I am, I wasn't lying, it's just that I'm not in your military, I'm an Autobot."

At that Elle stopped crying enough to look up, "Like what we talked about?"

"Talked about what," I felt my voice raise with hysteria. Seriously who could be calm at a time like this?

"I'm a Cybertronian, an Autobot. One of the ones who helped free Chicago. The day you found me I was running from your government. They were trying to round us up and Optimus was afraid for our safety so he split us up. We didn't even get a chance to properly heal after the battle. That's when you saw me, I'd driven as far away as I could before my systems crashed."

"So…," I said looking away, "you were staying with me because you were in hiding."

"In part," he said as he tried to pick up my hand. I snatched it away and held it to my chest. "I hadn't really planned on staying. You were kind, you didn't look at me like I was suddenly going to kill you. For once in my life I actually felt normal. Or at least what it might be like to be normal. I didn't want to go but your government was getting too close. I didn't want them to use you against me so I left before they could narrow their search and find you. I was running for about two years when it was safe enough to try and find you again. When I did, you had a child. I felt betrayed…."

"You felt betrayed?!" I shouted.

"Let me finish," he said gently, "this form that you see, isn't really me but is. It's generated by a combination of technology and spark energy… please don't ask, Ratchet gives me a processor ache every time he tries. Believe me. So when I learned you had a child, we thought technically it was impossible for her to be mine. So based on that I assumed you'd moved on."

"You thought…."

"Elle was someone else's baby? Yeah," he said as he gripped the wheel a little tighter, "I was angry and left you. But I couldn't stay away. So I watched. I wanted to see the mech… the man you chose to be with. I was confused when I couldn't find one and trust me I looked. I scanned Elle when you were out walking with her and took my findings back to Ratchet. Let's just say I've never seen the medic glitch before but he crashed to the ground and was out for days."

Bee shrugged as he looked at Elle in the rearview, "Somehow, the impossible happened and… well, Elle's mine." Elle looked up at him with equal awe.

Finally she said, "YOU are the Bumblebee we talked about? And he is… you are my dad?" She looked over at me for confirmation and all I could do was shrug, I opened my mouth but nothing came out. It was all too crazy to believe.

"Yes, I am Bumblebee and I'm also your dad. Unfortunately your government improved their energon tracking technology to find us. We can cover our signals but you can't. That's the reason I've got you, I don't want them to find you until we can hide your signal. If they find you before that…." Bee left that thought hanging as he faced the front.

Running to keep the government from making my child a science experiment, okay. I'll cope with all of this. Really. I looked over at him and whispered, "So…, you still cared?"

He looked over at me, "Never stopped."

I swallowed as tears suddenly came unbidden and flowed down my cheeks. I quickly covered my face with my arm and tried to silence my sobs but Elle knew, "Momma, are you okay?"

"Yes," I said thickly, "just a little surprised."

Bee reached out his hand, tentatively, hope clearly on his face. I swallowed and placed mine in his. He pulled it up to his mouth and kissed it, "Thank you."

When he released my hand he looked back at Elle and added, "For everything."

The drive was a blur. Bee told us the Autobots had managed to locate an abandoned factory and converted it to hide in until things settled down. Bee's mission was to get us there so Ratchet could work on a device to keep Elle's energon signature hidden, whatever that meant.

During the drive Bee transformed again to a less conspicuous vehicle mode and complained so much about it that it made us laugh and lightened our spirits. Who knew he could be so vain?

That white card of Bee's he explained was a Cybertronian hack which enabled me to lift money. Not stealing per se, but dropped off half cents that added up and we… I was technically skimming them. It made me feel bad but I was grateful I had it to fall back on. I don't know what I would've done without it.

During the drive, we talked and got to know each other again. Elle got to know about her father. He'd convinced us both that he was definitely an alien and one who didn't mind talking. And talk he did. I'm not sure how much sleep we all got on the ride, but it wasn't much. We learned a lot.

Arriving at the base was an amazing experience. Seeing aliens for the first time was heart-stopping. Especially Bee, as the robot he was. It's still hard wrapping my mind around the image of what I thought I was in love with and the huge metallic being as the same person. My heart… it didn't care. It was glad Bee was back.

During the drive, the government must've pinpointed Elle's signature because we had unfortunately led them straight to the new Autobot base. Our reunion was short-lived as Optimus rallied the bots and sent them on their way, escaping again. Sadly, this time Elle and I had to go with Optimus. There was no way I was abandoning my nine year old to some ancient alien leader I just met. After I wrote that, it's … I still can't believe this is all real!

You see out of all of the Autobot's Optimus had the best shielding in both modes, robot and vehicle, even better than Ratchet's which was upsetting because he was still working on the device. Bee and I were separated again and that tore at my heart even more than the first time because now I knew why. And more so because I knew there was a chance he might not make it back to me. The government had turned vicious and we were running scared.

Optimus was of great comfort and he allowed Bee and I to communicate from time to time but we had to keep things short. Human technology was not that advanced but they'd picked up much from the slain and were studying what they found. They were learning quickly.

Elle took it all in stride, except for hiding within Optimus's sleeper cabin for days at a time. Gratefully he had a small monitor in there which played movies and the like. At times we would get out and he would let her run but not for long. The government possessed satellites too and they were getting closer.

Finally Ratchet arranged a meet because he thought he had solved the problem and Optimus was tired of running. He wanted to make sure that if anything went down at least they would go down together instead of being picked off one at a time.

And despite our worst fears, the thought of seeing Bee again was encouraging.

Elle, during the long drives was finding Optimus to be both amusing and entertaining. They'd become rather inseparable and I wasn't sure what we'd do when we did separate. That is if Ratchet had successfully managed to make a device to keep Elle's signature hidden. Would that mean we'd have to leave the bots and not see them anymore?

Needless to say Elle and I were looking forward to the gathering with excitement and trepidation.

The meeting went well and the device Ratchet created was implanted into Elle and it seemed to work. Unfortunately a little too late as the clearing we were in exploded in bright light as earth and rock flew into the air around us. I screamed for Elle as Optimus snatched her away and stuck her inside his robot mode. Then he turned and fought the military vehicles as he shouted at us, "AUTOBOTS SCATTER!"

I stared at Optimus in shock as a metallic hand snatched me. When the world righted itself, I was inside Bee's Camaro mode. He shouted over the explosions as he wove over the shrapnel roughened terrain, "Don't worry, she's in good hands."

We were quiet as the Autobots fled. Later that evening Bee informed me Elle was alright and that none of the Autobots were injured. The problem was I could tell he was holding something back from me. No matter how hard I pressed, he wouldn't tell me what was wrong.

A week passed when Bee, who had transformed into a very sedate silvery Lexus, pulled off the road and got out. When I stepped out he walked over to me and shook his head. Clearly he was not eager to tell me what was going on and said as much, "I'm not sure how to tell you this…."

"Tell me what," I asked as fear began to rise, "did something happen to Elle? Is Elle okay?"

When he wouldn't look me in the eye I knew something bad had happened, "Tell me what happened to her. Is she dead?"

Bee took in a deep breath and turned away shaking his head, "No, she's alive. Look, we're not sure what happened really. Ratchet thinks it's a combination of things exposure to Optimus's Spark and the Matrix or both but it triggered something within her."

"Then what's wrong," I ground out terrified.

"It's not that," he said as he turned to face me, "she's not dead, she's very much alive, it's just that she's… not the same anymore."

"What do you mean not the same," I yelled as images of all sort of injuries crowded into my brain. I felt as if my heart was going to explode.

"I can't explain, you won't believe me. You have to see it for yourself," Bee apologized as the sound of an approaching semi made me turn my head. I glanced back to Bee and then at the approaching grey semi, "Is that Optimus?"

Bee nodded and then pulled me close, "Katie, she's alive and that's a good thing. What we don't understand is what aged her. Her body advanced to that of an adult. And we thought that was all of the transformation she would undergo but we were wrong. The Matrix, even though it's encased within Optimus's chest, puts out a very strong energy pulse and it did something more to Elle…."

A smaller car drove up and pulled to the side of Optimus and idled quietly.

Optimus got out of his cabin in his human form and walked over. His expression matched his words, "I wish there was some way I could apologize…."

"I don't want to hear apologies," I hissed as I turned on both men, "I want to see my little girl!"

The sound of a transforming robot behind me had me spinning and I watched as the car that was beside Optimus slowly transform. It's shape began to take the form of a female who then knelt down in front of me, "Mom, things are going to be alright."

I couldn't breathe… then there was nothing.

I came to slowly and my head hurt horribly. I could hear Bee in the background talking worriedly and Ratchet's voice, closer barking at him to relax when the medic asked me, "Katie?"

"Ratchet?" I'm a brilliant conversationalist when I wake up aren't I? But under the circumstances….

"Yes, it's me. You're fine. Can you sit up," Ratchet asked.

"Do I want to?" I countered and then did so. I opened my eyes to see the human-forms, Bee called them holoforms, like holograms only better. Obviously, since one of them got me pregnant… groan. I can't believe I just wrote that.

Anyway, one was a female and she walked over and knelt beside me. If I squinted I could still see Elle's features and when the woman spoke, it was like Elle's only deeper, "Mom?"

I felt my vision blur and mumbled, "Not unless time travel was invented."

"Would ancient Cybertronian artifacts reacting to my half-Cybertronian side help," she asked hopefully.

"But you haven't even gotten to the fourth grade yet," I whined and then burst into tears as the young woman reached over and pulled me into a hug. I begged, "Is it really you Elle?"

She pulled back and said in her younger lisp, "Yes it's me mom, don't you remember how much I love bumblebees." I cried more. She cried more. And the men… mechs, well, they had no idea what to do so they stayed away and looked, uncomfortable, very uncomfortable.

When I calmed down, Ratchet explained what he could. In the end, I suppose a workaround to the energon signature problem had been found. Just not the one we expected. At least Elle could never be tracked but then she'd never be human, either. Never be my child and I felt like half my life had been ripped away.

I suppose it's understandable. Then my world tilted again when she walked into Optimus's arms and he murmured 'Elita' and kissed her. I think I blacked out again, I'm not sure. I hope I did.

Well, it seems that Elle when translated in their tongue was similar to the word elite and they feminized it for her, calling her Elita-1, the first femme. It seemed that a little more had gone on while we'd been apart. Read heavy sarcasm. Although I was told it was completely innocent. Right. But when Optimus placed her in his chest it seemed that exposure to his spark linked them in a way that made them married.

Married.

My nine year old is married to an ancient alien leader who is how old?! And now she's an alien… of sorts…. Can I faint now? Please?

As I write this I wonder, can life get any weirder? And thankfully, so far… no. Thank you God! I don't think my heart could take any more of this….

With the transition in U.S. leadership, the new President put a halt on all Cybertronian hunting and claimed them as heros and honorary citizens. Which was a relief for all of us. What was surprising was that the remaining Decepticons on earth realized there was no way things were ever going back to the way they were. I guess Megatron, whoever he was, would never reincarnate. So leaderless they realized peace was a lot healthier than war.

The unification of the Cybertronians in the United States did create some political tension but not enough for war to be had.

So, peace was finally achieved and the Autobot/Decepticon war was no more.

And I've got a 20ft tall metallic daughter named Elita-1 who's nine years old and married to an ancient Autobot with some weird artifact in his chest that made it all possible. Ratchet says I'm over simplifying things, that it's more complex than that. Bee was right, Ratchet explanations are a form of torture!

In the end, it still makes me mad as hell at Optimus and I've told him so. In fact I've made it clear he's legally guilty in so many ways for marrying an underage minor I can't even begin to count the years he'd have to spend in prison. He takes it all in stride, he doesn't mind, he's just that kind of guy. As for me, it's mostly an act, the me being angry part… mostly.

Elle's, excuse me Elita-1 is rather annoyed with me because I won't accept the fact that she's an adult now. It seems that upgrade did more than just rearrange her body physically it did so mentally as well. So technically she really is an adult. I know becuase I disputed her enough on that that she finally brought in the big guns to explain. Yep, you got it, Ratchet. I've since learned that no one argues with Ratchet and wins, well except for Optimus and I quickly learned I wasn't Optimus. Doesn't mean I still like the idea. In my mind she's still my little Elle.

And as for Bee…. Well, I guess you could say I'm kinda married to the man… mech. It's still hard to wrap my head around being married to a robot. But there you are. Is there a future for us as a couple? I don't know for sure. Ratchet's trying to figure out if it's possible to turn me like Elle. Make me one of them so I can live as long as my daughter will and not break her and Bee's spark by dying. Nasty habits we humans have… dying.

And don't worry, I'm not dying any time soon and don't have any intentions of doing so either. Although I certainly feel like it right now as I lean over the toilet.
I can't because…

Yeah, you guess it, I'm pregnant again. Damn the man and his lovely blue eyes.

How does Bee feel about this? Oh, he's ecstatic, thrilled, being a father two times over? You kidding right? He's driving everyone crazy. Me too. But, I'm loving every minute of it because this time I won't be alone. Well, except for the nausea…

That's it for now… as I set the pen down and dash to the bathroom…


A/N: I went back and edited this... which if you've read this the first time would not have seen all the mistakes. Hopefully I caught them all. Thanks for reading!