"When darkness covers all that's good in the world, the stars are there to protect you until the dawn."

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The Autobot screeches to a stop, sending the young woman in his passenger seat flying into the dashboard with a small scream. Toby groans as she rubs her forehead in pain.

"Sorry 'bout that."

"Just warn me next time please," She grumbles quietly, recovering from her daze.

After a silent moment, only interrupted by the sound of mild panicking from 'Bee's charge, Jazz opens his passenger door so the woman can stumble out. With nothing short of mild amusement, Toby watches Sam practically beg on his knees for the Autobots to stay where they are before bounding over to a massive house, trampling the lawn in his haste.

"You're remarkably calm about all this," The girl mutters to the young woman who just looks confused.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Mikeala."

"Hello, Mikaela, I'm Toby," she chuckles to herself. "I've believed in aliens for a long time. I thought they'd look much different to this, but this isn't much to me."

"What do you mean 'this isn't much'? They're giant, talking robots!" Mikaela questions, wide eyed.

"Kid, they're not robots," Toby snaps, losing her patience with the disbelieving youth, "they're living beings; robots are tin cans with no sentience."

"Don't call me 'kid'," Mikeala glowers at the woman, receiving a scoff as a response. 

"Don't call them robots and I'll consider it," she shakes her head with a laugh as she watches Optimus ignore Sam's pleading command and transform into his bipedal self.

"Where are you going? You have to stay here!" Toby jumps as Mikeala suddenly cries out in desperation. "You'll be seen!"

The girl's pleas go unnoticed as the other Autobots begin to follow their leader as they transform as well.

With a breathless laugh, the woman pats Mikeala's shoulder. "You're fighting a losing battle there, darlin'."

After watching Mikeala run down the alleyway to get into the yard, Toby hops onto the lid of a nearby garbage bin and hauls herself over the high fence, dragging her backpack along with her. She lands in a bush, softening her fall but completely flattens the poor plant as she climbs out.

Brushing herself free of stray leaves, the woman looks up to see 'Bee gesturing frantically to keep the Autobot leader from going any further from where he stood. Despite his best efforts, Optimus continues to make his way closer to the back porch, though he does so quietly.

"I love you. God, I love you just so much right now," Toby bites her lip to keep from laughing at Sam's awkward attempt to keep his dad in the house.

"You know," Sam's dad looks reluctant, "Mom wanted me to ground you. You're three minutes late."

"Oh, well, just another thing you did for me, Dad," Sam spares a glance behind him, panic expressed clearly in his eyes as he glares slightly at the woman wheezing from restrained laughter, "because you're such a swell guy!"

"One more thing, huh?"

"Alright, I love you! Sleep good, you handsome man!" The second his father's out of sight, Sam whips around to face the approaching Autobots, looking ready to cry.

"That sounded so incredibly weird, man," Toby flashes the boy a grin.

"What are you doing? What are you doing?" Sam questions frantically, running out into the middle of the lawn, "No, watch the path! Watch the path!"

The woman grimaces at his high pitch but realises quickly why he's screaming. Optimus turns to face the boy, not noticing the obviously newly paved path through the flawless green grass and crushes some of the stones beneath his pedes. 'Oops.'

"Watch the... Please, please, please." Optimus steps back to avoid squishing the two humans, and his pede hovers over the fountain, "No, no, wait. No, no, no!"

The Autobot leader loses his balance and puts his weight on his hovering pede, effectively crushing the fountain to pieces.

"Sorry, my bad."

Toby chuckles lightly at how human the Autobot sounds but cringes as she imagines how Sam's parents will react upon seeing the absolute mess that is their backyard.

"You couldn't-you couldn't wait for five-you couldn't wait for five minutes?!" Sam splutters, gesturing wildly.

Mikeala slides around the house and upon seeing the mess of the yard, brings a hand to her mouth in horror as Sam turns on her, "I told you to watch them. I told you."

A sharp yap brings Toby's attention to the ground, discovering a tiny Chihuahua in a pathetic cast at the base of Ironhide's pede. She spares a distasteful glance at the ratty dog before standing beside Ratchet and tapping his stabiliser gently to gain his attention.

"I was wondering if I could get a better view?" She asks in a quiet voice, smiling sheepishly. The medic vents and lowers a servo, rolling his optics when the woman expresses her 'uncontainable' excitement with a high pitched squeak. "Sorry."

Ratchet only grunts in response while Toby confidently hops on his servo and watches Sam continue to panic. The Autobot cautiously lifts her to his shoulder, wary of dropping her.

"No!"

Toby's head whips around to view the situation, eyes widening as she sees the miniscule dog lift its hind leg and pee on Ironhide. 'This isn't going to end well.'

"Mojo! Mojo! Off the robot!"

"They're not robots!" Toby hisses, making Ratchet raise his optic brows at her harshness.

"Urgh, wet." Ironhide kicks the dog away and lifts a pede to squash it.

Sam lunges forward, pulling Mojo back with incredible speed and shelters him in his arms. "No, no, no, no, no! Easy! Easy!" He holds his free hand up in panic as he tries to calm the weapons specialist. "Hold on! Hold on! This is Mojo. This is Mojo. He's a pet of mine. He's a pet."

Toby's face scrunches up in silent laughter, enjoying the teen's panic as Ironhide points his canons at the rat-like dog. She covers her mouth with a hand in a desperate attempt to keep her amusement from being vocalized, though her wheezes are very much audible to the Autobot medic.

"If you could just put the guns away. Put the-put them away. Please," Sam splutters fearfully, eyes wide.

"You have a rodent infestation," The woman quietly agrees with Ironhide, grinning as he arms his canons, the parts spinning violently in a display of orange and red.

"A what?"

"Shall I terminate?" Toby snorts loudly, catching the attention of several optics before clapping another hand over her mouth.

"No, no, no—"

"Yes," that definitely earns Toby some looks, her dark tone making the Autobots concerned while she grins wildly.

"What?! No!" Sam shoots her a glare, though flinches a little at her expression.

"Please do it, the fewer of those rats the better," she crosses her arms casually, though holds the feral grin.

"He's not a rodent, he's a Chihuahua. This is-this is my Chihuahua. We love Chihuahuas! Don't we?" He looks to Mikaela for help, but she just looks back with a 'what's-that-going-to-do?' expression.

"No. They pee on everything," the woman states clearly.

"He's leaked lubricants all over my foot," Ironhide grumbles unhappily.

"See?!" Toby waves her arms dramatically at the weapons specialist, stressing her point further.

"He peed on you? Bad Mojo! Bad!" Sam scolds his dog, holding him up to meet his eyes.

"Bad Mojo," the black Autobot points his canons disapprovingly, his tone completely serious.

"I'm sorry. He's got a male dominance thing. That's all it is."

"My foot's gonna rust," Ironhide backs off, turning away from the boy with disgust in his voice.

"Urine's not that acidic, 'Hide, don't worry too much about it," Toby remarks dismissively, shaking her head. "If it does rust, I'll buff it for you!"

"Shut up and go hide!" Sam slams the screen door in his panic, leaving the girls and the Autobots to their own devices while he searches.

"Just hurry," Optimus sighs with remarkable tolerance.

"Wow, rude much," the woman scoffs in amusement, gaining a few agreeing 'hmm's in reply.

"Autobots, recon," the Prime gestures to the group.

Toby smiles to herself, happy to be apart of something she could have so easily passed by. Had she left the shop any earlier, she would have been gone before they arrived. And if she had left any later, she could have missed them altogether. Somehow, fate decided she was to play a part in the mission that would decide the world's future. And that's okay. Actually, that's more than perfect for the woman; life had no purpose or plans for her anyways, so why not hop aboard the train headed through adventure to reach an unknown destination?

A gleam of yellow catches her eye, and her smile fades almost instantly. The young Autobot scout has allowed curiosity to get the best of him and stick his helm right in plain sight of the window so he can observe Sam's parents!

"Bumblebee! What in the pits are you doing?!" Toby whisper-shouts at him, making him jump and stumble backwards, away from the glass pane. He looks at her in mild panic and bows his head in slight shame upon seeing her worried and angry expression. "You can't do that 'Bee! Not while they don't know about you!"

He whirs an apology, looking at his pedes like a child being caught stealing from the cookie jar. The woman sighs in exasperation, holding her head in her hands before looking at him expectantly.

"Don't do it again, 'Bee, I don't want to know what would happen if you get caught."

He whirs again, and nods bashfully, earning a small smile from Toby. Before anything else unexpected can happen, Optimus kneels beside Mikaela, placing his servo on the ground for her to hop on. The girl just looks at him in confusion.

"He's offering you a lift, kid," Toby explains from her perch on Ratchet's shoulder as he walks over to the house, "you'll need it to get in unnoticed."

"And I just-what-step on?" Mikaela glances at the woman warily, though fails to see the Prime's patience deteriorating.

"Whatever you're most comfortable with, but it's easier to sit," the mechanic chuckles, eyeing Optimus with amusement. "I suggest you hurry, everything's at stake here."

Ratchet holds his servo up to Toby, silently requesting that she get on. She complies with no extra effort required from the medic, holding onto his digits for balance as he places her on Sam's window ledge.

She nods a thanks to the Autobot and eases into the room. Her nose scrunches up in disgust when she turns to find a poster plastered with cutouts of women in very revealing swimwear, and gags upon seeing the rest of the teenager's room.

Stuff clutters every surface, and posters cover every inch of wall. A foosball table sits in the middle of the room, and a shelving unit blocks direct access from the door to the bed. A filthy goldfish bowl sits on top a relatively clean desk, about five oversized goldfish swimming within the depressingly sized living quarters

'Of all the people who could of had the glasses, why does it have to be him? Who needs this much stuff anyway? ' Toby scowls, hopping down from the window ledge.

"Wha-what is this?" Sam jumps in front of her, jittery and panicking.

"I'm here to help look, Sammy," she brushes past him and begins to scan the shelves for the antique glasses.

"They really want those glasses," Toby vaguely hears Mikaela talking to Sam, ignoring them as she looks.

"Please hurry," the woman smiles at the sound of the Prime's voice, reminding her how brilliant life just got.

"Yeah, no, no. It's definitely gone," those words alone make Toby freeze.

"What do you mean?"

"My glasses were in the bag. They were in the backpack and now the backpack isn't here."

"Well, you better find that backpack, Sam Witwicky, because the whole world depends on it," the mechanic snaps coldly at the teenager, internally panicking.

"Yeah, well, I think-I think we should just check-just check this whole," he stammers, unable to meet the glare of the woman.

"Check this section?"

"Yeah, just give it a clean sweep," he gestures to the area the girls stand in while he continues his search of his side of the room.

Toby sighs stressfully as Mikaela pulls a box from its place on the shelf. The mechanic jumps at a clatter made by Sam as he practically leaps back over to keep Mikaela from opening the box.

"Yeah, no, no, no. Not there, that's my-that's my private," he splutters, somehow stuffing the box under his mattress.

"Next time be more specific, Sammy, this is your room, not ours. We don't know where to or where not to look," Toby calls to him as she stands on a chair to check the top shelves.

"She's got a point," Mikaela agrees.

A familiar sound fills the air, causing the teenagers to stop what they're doing and look out the windows, leaving Toby to search by herself.

"No. No, no. No, no, no," Sam cries out in frustration. "This isn't hiding. This isn't hiding. This is my backyard, not a truck stop."

"What have they done now?" The woman doesn't even bother looking over, too focused on her search.

"They-they're cars! In-in-in my backyard!"

"Boys," Toby addresses the Autobots outside, but doesn't move, "cars don't just appear in someone's yard. You're better off as your bipedal selves."

The teens retreat back to the room, leaving no item unturned in their quest to find the glasses. The woman stands from her crouched position, glancing quickly at the figure by the window.

"Sam, he's back."

Sam barrels across the room, barely keeping himself from falling out the window as he leans towards the Autobot leader. He looks down as Optimus steps back and groans loudly.

"Oh, no, no, no. This is my mother's flower—" he whimpers.

"Oops," Optimus' response has Toby chuckling.

"Okay, listen. You got to listen to me. If my parents come out here and see you, they're gonna freak out. My mother's got a temper, okay?"

"Sam, that's not important right now," the woman says over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on the Prime.

Optimus sighs heavily. "We must have the glasses."

"We've looked everywhere, Optimus," Toby faces the pair, expression doubtful, "they're not here."

He sighs again, and in a very human-like action, he rubs his faceplates as Sam rambles. "Keep searching."

"Will do."

As Sam continues his rambling, Toby comes up behind him, patience running thin. She grabs his shirt to make sure he doesn't lose his balance and whacks him upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"To shut you up. Optimus," she faces the Cybertronian again, "give us five, maybe ten minutes of silence, and we can do this."

"Autobots, fall back." Optimus demands, and they all start walking in separate directions.

"Thanks."

"Move!" Ratchet shoves Ironhide's shoulder as they back off, receiving a push back from the weapons specialist.

"Get away!"

"What's the matter with you? Can't you be quiet? She wants us to be quiet," Optimus addresses the arguing duo, walking in the opposite direction with Bumblebee.

Toby sees the powerline before Ratchet does and mentally facepalms as he walks into it. Sparks fly around the medic's head as his metal body takes in the sudden surge of electricity and the woman can't help but burst out laughing upon watching him tear through the wires with his torso spinning rapidly while his lights and siren go off as he decimates a greenhouse in a neighbouring garden. The ground shakes when he lands on the grass and panicked shouts can be heard from Sam's house as someone hides.

"Wow, that was tingley!" Ratchet sits up quickly only to fall back to the ground with a loud groan, "You got to try that!"

"Yeah, that looks fun," Ironhide states sarcastically, waving a dismissive servo.

There's a shower of sparks and a loud bang, darkness following quickly as the neighbourhood's power goes out. Someone sighs in exasperation before a thunk and loud curse follow it, the owner holding a hand to their head.

Suddenly, light. That's all Toby can comprehend in the moment. There was complete, and utter darkness, and now there is blinding, white light burning her eyes. Someone's calling Sam's name from the other side of the door, but that doesn't matter. Not as she's being blinded.

"What the frag is that?!"

"Ratchet, point the light," Optimus instructs the medic, probably in an attempt to help the humans look.

"No! Don't point the fragging light!" The woman cries, shielding her eyes with a hand.

"Listen, we got a major issue here," Sam helps Toby to her feet before addressing the Autobots outside. "What's with the light? You gotta stop the light."

"Yes! Please!"

"Sam, are you in there?" A voice asks from behind the door.

'Scrap!'

"How come the door's locked? You know the rules. No doors locked in my house!" The woman jumps towards the window, panicking for the first time.

"Put that light out!" Toby waves her hands desperately, only to find herself ignored by the high medic. She narrows her eyes at the Autobot and growls a silent curse before snapping at him. "Put that light out or I swear, Doc Bot, I will reduce you to a pile of scrap!"

He looks at her with wide optics, his floodlight going out in seconds. Toby sighs in relief. But that relief is short lived.

"One more chance. Five."

"Oh dear."

"Oh scrap!" A pattering of feet announces to the mechanic that Mikaela's in hiding and that Sam's running over to her place by the window.

"What are you doing?" Sam demands an answer from the woman as she hoists herself onto his window ledge and searches for a handhold on the gutter.

"I can't be found by your parents! What will they think if they find an eighteen year old woman in your room?!" Finding an appropriate grip, Toby swings out of the window and twists her body to change her grip.

Sam practically screams as the woman slips, hanging by one hand before catching herself. She struggles for a moment, swinging her legs desperately before going limp.

"Some aid would be greatly appreciated 'round about now," Toby grunts in exertion, wiggling helplessly in the air.

A yelp catches in her throat as metal fingers grab the back of her tank top, lifting her from the gutter edge.

"Careful, Toby." The deep voice of Optimus calms her panic and she lets out a breathless chuckle at the bizarreness of the moment. The Prime studies the woman with concern, his optics searching to see if she is alright. Satisfied with his findings, Optimus places her on his shoulder to keep her out of sight of the Witwicky parents.

"—Two. Stand back," it goes silent for a moment, and Toby holds her breath.

"What's up? What's with the bat?" Sam's voice is smooth for once, making the woman relax slightly.

"Who were you talking to?" And she's tense again.

There's a pause. "I'm talking to you."

"Why are you so sweaty and filthy?"

"I'm a child. You know, a teenager."

"We heard voices and noises and we thought maybe you were—"

"It doesn't matter what we thought. What was that light?" Footsteps follow the sentence, making Toby freeze.

"No, what light? What? There's no light, Dad! There's no light! You got two lights in your hand! That's what it is." Sam panics, and this time, it's a very reasonable expression.

"There was a light under your door."

"Look, you can't-you can't just bounce into my room like that. You gotta knock. You gotta communicate," Sam demands.

"We knocked for five minutes," Toby scoffs quietly. 'Five minutes? Sure thing, pal.'

"We knocked."

"You didn't knock. You were screaming at me, okay? This is repression, what you're doing here. You're ruining my youth, okay?" Toby tilts her head, where'd all the big words come from?

"Oh, for Pete's sake! You are so defensive! Were you masturbating?"

There's a shocked silence in the house, and Toby cringes, glad that she's not in the room, but still tries to shrink into nothing. She gags into her hand, trying desperately to block out the rest of the conversation.

"Judy."

"Was I? No, Mom. No, I don't masturbate!"

"That's not something for you to bring up. That's a father-and-son thing, okay?"

Toby makes a retching sound, causing several optics to look at her in concern. She gives them a thumbs up before putting her head in her hands, face scrunched in pure disgust.

The conversation becomes nothing more than noise to the woman as she calms down, wiping away mental images that do not need to linger. "There goes whatever innocence I had left."

There's a shuffling, and Optimus leans over to peek into the bathroom window.

"Yeah, well, we saw a light," a man, presumably Sam's dad, walks into the room, looking behind him at his son.

"Oh, parents," the Prime steps back quickly, shaking the ground.

"Earthquake! It's another one! Another earthquake! Get in the doorway!" Sam's dad climbs in the bathtub with amazing speed.

"Okay!"

"Aftershock! Aftershock! Oh, I hate these."

"Quick, hide!" Optimus rotates a servo to gesture to the Autobots before backing up against the house in an awkward position. Bumblebee crawls onto the patio, beneath the hanging lights and out of sight.

"Hide? What?" Ironhide flattens against the house around the corner.

"Where?" Ratchet spins for a second before Ironhide pulls him over to his position.

"Oh, oh, man! Man. Oh," Jazz almost fails to find somewhere, his quick check on the parents' location losing him time. Just as Sam's dad looks out the window, he dives into the sheltered patio connected to the dining room. No one breathes.

"Oh, no! Look at the yard! The yard is destroyed," Sam's dad looks behind him to talk to his wife. "Judy? Better call the city. We've got a blown transformer!"

"Well, actually, you have several in your yard," Toby mutters to herself, not bothering to hide the smile plastered on her lips.

"Oh, man. Yard's a waste. Trashed. Gone," he turns back into the room, walking away from the window as the power goes back on.

"The parents are very irritating," Ironhide glances at the window with longing, "can I take them out?"

There's an audible 'yeah, yeah, yeah!' from Ratchet, making Toby snort loudly, struggling to contain her laughter as the weapons specialist fires up his cannons in anticipation. Optimus jumps forward from his awkward position in panic, gripping the edge of the roof to steady himself.

"Ironhide, you know we don't harm humans! What is with you?!" He scolds Ironhide, glaring at him before steadying the woman on his shoulder.

She bites her hand, tears running down her face from laughter. A strained squeak escapes her lips upon catching Ironhide's glare and she quickly finds her feet very interesting.

"Well, I'm just saying we could. It's an option," Ironhide mumbles, looking slightly humiliated.

"Optimus!" Toby whispers into the Prime's audio processor—at least she hopes that's what it is—gaining his silent attention, "Put me down; if Sam can't find the glasses in his room, it's possible that they're elsewhere. I can search the ground floor while his parents are occupied."

The Autobot leader nods slightly and allows the eager woman to climb on his servo. He lowers her to the patio, where she slides off and enters the house.

The voices upstairs rise in volume, which in turn, raise Toby's anxiety level to a point where her heart is pounding in her throat and sweat is dripping down her palms. As quietly as possible, she scours the surfaces of the living room and kitchen, with no success.

"Okay, calm down," she mutters to herself, patting her hands dry and waving them in front of her as she thinks, "he said they were in a backpack. Okay, we're looking for a backpack; simple enough."

Spinning on the spot, the woman spots a black bag slouching on the kitchen island and grins cockily when her fingers grasp a pair of old-fashioned spectacles.

'Bingo! Now to get them to the Autobots—' her thought is cut short by a firm rap on the door and the sound of someone thundering down the stairs.

'Oh this is absolute scrap!' She curses herself, pulling out her hair while backing away from the yet-to-be-seen people. A pair of eyes appear in the mail slot in the door, scanning the room before disappearing again. Pure panic ensues, banishing all rational thoughts and common sense as Toby practically throws herself behind one of the sofas, praying to all things holy that she would not be found.

The woman holds a breath as she hears a door being opened, shuffling uncomfortably in her place.

"Ronald Wickity?" Toby barely manages to withhold her groan at the sound of the irritatingly familiar voice.

"It's Witwicky," the woman can hear the frown in his voice, "Who are you?"

'That bolt head, Simmons, and his lovely little Sector Seven. This is not going to end well for me.'  Her eyes widen in sudden realisation. 'Scrap! The Autobots!'

"We're the government," Toby doesn't need to see what's happening to know that he's flashing his ID. "Sector Seven."

"Never heard of it," Sam's dad explains.

"Never will. Your son's the great-grandson of Captain Archibald Wickity, is he not?"

'Oh no. Calm down, calm down. The Autobots will be fine; they're highly intelligent beings.'

"It's Witwicky."

"May I enter the premises, sir?" Simmons says the last word so mockingly, that Toby scrunches up her nose.

"Ron, there's guys all over the front yard," Sam's mom complains loudly.

"What the heck is going on here?"

Simmons seems to be about to answer when Toby gives a startled cry as hands suddenly grab her shoulders and hoist her from her hiding place. She struggles greatly in the grasp of her captorer but manages to jam the glasses into her flannel pocket before they're spotted. Her lips curl in distaste for the agent before her, who grins widely at the new discovery.

"Who the heck are you? What are you doing in our house?" Mr Witwicky shouts, expectedly angry and upset.

"This is Toby Williams; a troublemaker and a pain in the rump," the agent gestures grandly to the young woman, walking over to look her in the eyes, "your father won't be very pleased with you, you know. Caught sneaking into houses at midnight?"

"What do you know, Simmons; my father doesn't give a damn. And I'm not a troublemaker, by the way," Toby gives the Witwicky parents an apologetic look, "I wasn't sneaking into your house with ill intent; I swear I haven't taken anything from you."

"Then what were you doing?" The woman fails to answer as Sam and Mikeala come down the stairs, surprised to find her with her hands above her head and prideful Simmons standing guard.

"I came to deliver some homework assignments to Sam," she doesn't falter in her lie, only looking over at the boy for confirmation. "Isn't that right?"

"Uh," he gulps nervously under the burning gaze of the woman. "Yeah, yeah. I was missing a few pages of math work and asked her to drop it off for me."

"See?"

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing in our house at this hour."

"I work late, so I had little option but to come at this time and he told me to just come in," she points behind her, "the reason you found me back there was my own clumsiness; I kinda tripped and got wedged between the sofa."

"I told you that you're a klutz!" Sam sighs exasperatedly, laying on another false to sell the lie.

Toby's glare turns suffocating—if looks could kill, Sam would be six feet under—and she nearly growls her next words, "Don't call me that, Sammy boy."

Simmons studies the two suspiciously before stepping back to gain more control over the situation.

"Your son filed a stolen car report last night. We think it's involved in a national security matter."

"Hold up," Toby deadpans, looking unimpressed with the agent, "you're telling me that a car has something to do with national security. What the hell happened this time, Sammy?"

"They're ripping up my rose bushes! My God, Ron, they're everywhere. There's guys in suits all around the house! Look at this!"

"Who the hell are these guys?" Mikeala asks, not expecting a response.

"Sector Seven," the group turns to face Toby who crosses her arms nonchalantly. "They're a secret part of the government that technically doesn't exist. They deal with all the weird and wacky stuff that could cause havoc. This bolt head here is Agent Simmons," she sighs slightly while giving the agent an annoyed glance, "we don't like each other much."

"You don't, y'know, work for them, do you?" Sam eyes her warily.

"Hell nah, these guys suck! I just happened to be a very nosy child," She flashes the boy a mischievous grin. "I'm afraid I can't say anything more because one: I don't know much else, and two: they'll hunt me down like a pack of wild dogs."

"Get me a sample and some isotope readings!" Simmons orders, eyeing the woman carefully.

"They're pulling out of the ground! Good Lord! They've got to get their hands off my bush!" Mrs Witwicky rushes towards an agent with a bat in her hands, causing Toby to snort loudly in amusement.

"Drop the bat, ma'am," the agent says without a flicker of emotion, grabbing the bat, "I'm carrying a loaded weapon."

"Well that escalated quickly," the mechanic huffs to herself.

"Son," Simmons addresses Sam, "your name Sam?"

"Yeah," the boy looks at the agent questionably.

"Well, I need you to come with us."

"Woah, way out of line," Ron stands in front of Sam protectively, oblivious to the woman moving to do the same.

"Sir, I'm asking politely. Back off," the agent mocks offense.

"You're not taking my son."

"Really? You're gonna try to get rough with us?" Simmons remarks, ignoring the tightening grip Toby has on her crossed arms.

"No, but I'm gonna call the cops because there's something fishy going on around here."

"There's something fishy going on about you, your son, your son's girlfriends, your little Taco Bell dog, and this whole operation you got going on here," the agent accuses the group, once again ignoring Toby's vocal growl.

"What operation?"

"That's what we're gonna find out."

Another agent rushes over to Simmons, holding a bizarre device in his hands. The two exchange hushed words before Mr Bolt-Head looks at Sam in surprise.

"Son?"

"Yeah?"

"Step forward, please."

"Just stand?" Sam asks for confirmation, but the agent doesn't respond, he just watches the machine in his hands as it begins to beep rapidly.

The tense atmosphere shatters as Toby erupts in a series of violent sneezes. Simmons raises a brow at her explosion of sound and shifts slightly on his feet.

"Bless you," Ron says, a bit startled.

"T'anks," the woman sniffles, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. A steady beeping halts any action Toby has in mind as it hastily increases in volume and frequency. The sound becomes an ear splitting hum, bringing everyone to their knees with their hands pressed tightly to their skulls.

The handheld machine in Simmons' grasp suddenly bangs and smoke pours from a cracked vent. With the whirring gone, the group warily picks themselves up from the ground to investigate the cause of their torture.

"Would you look at that," Simmons sneers, pointing at Toby, "we've got fourteen rads for the boy, and completely off the charts for the girl! Bingo! Grab 'em and bag 'em!"

Hands grab the bewildered woman's arms, forcing her wrists into a pair of handcuffs, "W-What?" Shock fails to allow her to struggle, "Are you insane?"

The agent doesn't respond, only watching as Sam and his parents are separated into two different SUVs and the girls are thrown in with the boy.

"Why you half-witted, mangy brained, piece of s—" the young woman's insults silence as the door shuts behind her.

"Sam! Don't say anything, Sam! Not a word until we get a lawyer!" Ron hollers to his son as he's pushed into one of the vehicles.

★☆★☆★☆★☆★

I'm finally finished! That took too long...

5415 words?!

This is the longest chapter I have ever written!

I hope you guys enjoyed it!

The next chapter should be up tomorrow!

Drag0nRider out!