Car form & EEP!
Title: Car form & EEP!
Pairing: no pairing yet for the bots, Buff/Anggie, Willow/Oz, Gman/Jenny
Summary: Xander goes out of Halloween human and returns as a robot. What’s a 16ft tall robot supposed to do? Can it be fixed? Are there others?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything within the Buffy: The Vampire Slayer or Transformers. I plan for there to robot love within the story. If you do not like it move on. Sorry a head of time for any spelling, grammar, or punctuation mistakes. Thanks Jess for the nice disclaimer! Transformers belong to Hasbro and Buffy the Vampire slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. I own none of the characters and make no money. Options
Sparkling – newborn
Youngling – child
Breem -8 Earth minutes
Joor – 6.5 Earth hours
Orn – 15 Earth days
Vorn – 85 Earth years
“Whozzzit arrre youuuzz?” I kneel down to the odd creature’s level and stare into yellow head’s small blue optics. I wave my hand in their direction and tilt my head to the side as I chirp questioningly. They need to communicate more with me so I can completely assimilate their language, I will not sound like an out of date resonance file if I can help it! I’m still quite embarrassed that I cried like a sparkling no need to communicate like one too. I look at the shuffling non-metal creature curiously and wondered how I came to be here with them? Did they transport me? If they did, why, how, where? And why did it have to slagging hurt so much!
Why are they looking at me like they know me?
“Xander . . .” Redhead says with distress. I scan the green eyed one since she is leaking lubricate down her face and shaking. My scans come out glitched and unreadable which is not helpful.
I look at the older one wearing glass over his optics and glare. “Ssspeak nnnow!”
He takes his glass off his eyes and cleans them even though they are already clean. “W-well you see X-xander . . . the spell was most unsuccessful. Your form did not change as it should have. It was defective.”
I frown. Is he speaking of an upgrade? Early upgrades happened rarely and only happened if the youngling proved to be independent and grown-up or if there was a great need for it, but rarely does a creator wish to deprive their young their childhood. There are only two reasons that I can see early upgrade happening, either adult cybertronians are needed or my creator is deactivated and no other bot wishes to take me in. I urge my processors to not jump to conclusions of abandonment or disasters of untold calamity but my imagination ran wild.
I chirp with distress as I stagger to my feet. Prowl would not dump me here would he? I search my memory bank and my files trying to find some sort of answer. I find an emotion file wrapped in protective fire walls and unwrap it layer by layer. A deep voice rings through my processors and calms me immediately. ~I have not in all of my time thought of being a creator but here I am graced with this unexpected gift. I thank Primus for you and hope you stay safe and well. May Primus protect you, my little one. If the Primes are merciful I will see you soon my sparkling. ~ The words were soaked with love, protection, and affection and made me feel much better and more confident.
I’m still real confused. Super confused even. I must have done or been apart of something dangerous or dumb to be so glitched in the processors. I don’t even remember my name, my function, or my sparkling years! It’s like I got wiped by a super magnet pulse and have to start all over again. I don’t like it! These creatures, humans, say they are my friends and caretakers, that I’ve always been and belong with them (I think they’re glitched!). They call me Xander. It’s an odd sounding name but it seems familiar and I like it and since I don’t have another designation it will work. For now. The Willow human told me my whole name is Alexander Harris, I checked on the World Wide Web for it, the name means Protector of Mankind and Son of Harry. I am not the son of Harry, Prowl had never called himself by that designation, at least I don’t think so . . . Harry is from the name Harold which means Army Ruler. My creator is a soldier, a strategist, one that could lead but often followed a great Leader like a Prime. At least that’s what my profile file says about Prowl . . . I do not understand how the name Alexander Harris became mine; it doesn’t describe my function, make, model, or skills. Unless my function is to protect the fragile humans as the name describes?
I’m tempted to signal for my creator again or even the broader signal to all bots in the area but my caretakers say it is too dangerous. That I could attract something bad. What kind of bad things I do not know. They tell me that I’m damaged. I have checked my systems often but besides the blocked/corrupted files I’m functioning fine for a young bot that has had three out of his five upgrades. I have more armor then a bot my age should have and my weapons are active which is kinda weird. Protocol D of section C3B of sparkling rearing in my rule file says no cybertronian bot under four upgrades may have active and destructive weapons since such young bots don’t understand their destructive potential. That sounds like an oldie moldy bot wrote it. I hope that rule file is outdated because of the war; I’d hate to have my cool arsenal deactivated. My caretakers act like there is something real wrong with me, like a deadly virus type wrong. I’m fine. I’m 11 ft of fine! I tell them that but they just shake their head and say they will fix it. Ha! Yeah right! I don’t need help correcting my systems . . . I don’t think I do. I’m pretty sure I don’t. The Willow human and the Jenny human know the slow computer systems and are smartest among my caretakers but even they wouldn’t understand my most basic programs. I don’t know how that can help me fix my glitches; all my functioning processors say they can’t help.
I wish I could access more of my files; I’d be more independent if I could just unlock them! It’s very frustrating because over one thousand main files are compromised and each of those files has five hundred sub-files. Picking them part and repairing them is like . . . I search the internet . . . like picking all the lint and fuzz balls off a sweater. It can be done but it’s real slow work. I’m starting with my more important files; files that I believe are recent memories of my life. It’s slow going without a medic-bot to help me. How come G-man human doesn’t just take me to one? A medic could fix me in a couple of breems!
I have basic cybertronian functions and some sketchy history; basic codes don’t tell me much. It just tells me my creator is Prowl and that I’m in my third stage of development but not how I was created! Was I made from the AllSpark or do I have two creators and the memory of the other was compromised like my other files? What is my function? How did I end up on Earth when I have memories of a tech Eden called Cybertron? What about the war my partially corrupt history files told me about? I can’t even tell which corrupt files are memories and which is downloaded information; I’m only making guesses based off of glitched info. It’s all very frustrating.
I don’t want to be but I’m scared. I’m scared and I want a hug from my creator. I sniffle quietly but make sure the humans can’t hear it, I’m not a sparkling and I shouldn’t be acting like a baby! I look over my badly glitched file on cybertronian age upgrades just to make sure. I’m two upgrades from adult! I look through the world wide web to compare my own age to the humans and am shocked to find out they have such short life spans! They live a little over a vorn! A vorn is nothing to a bot! I look at Oz human and Cordelia human and click mournfully. I file their imagines away into my processors so I won’t forget them if and when I leave. I continue to look of my age equivalent in human terms since they say I’m too young to be outside. They changed it from too little because I argued with Buffy human to too young for a robot.
“Xander you can’t leave the warehouse!”
“You’re too little!” Buffy stood in front of the door with her arms crossed a pointed piece of organic plant matter in one hand. Her head is tipped back at a sharp angle just so she could look me in the optics and she stood no higher then my lower hip joint. Buffy human is small even for a human class creature!
I scanned her. “You are too little too.” I pick her up by her coat and held her up so she was eye level with me. “I am taller then you by 5ft.”
Buffy wiggled a scowl on her pale face plate. “I meant you’re a kid and I’m a grown up.”
She is not an adult yet. Buffy human, Willow human, Cordelia human, and Oz human are older teenagers, if they were bots they would be going through their last upgrade. Jenny human and G-man human are adults. If I were human I would be around 11-13 years of age, a child but NOT a baby. One thing I found interesting about my systems is my broad range of emotional development. With each new upgrade a young bot will get better at controlling emotional programming and depending on the stability of the bots processors is how much control they have. Emotionally speaking since I’m half slagged thanks to whatever happened to me my age could be anything from as young as 5 to as old as 50. Being hyper intelligent, needy, emotionally and systematically unstable is hard for me to cope with. I’m not helpless; I know I was not helpless before whatever happened to me, but right now a feel too unstable to trust myself. I feel like an unstable star that could explode any second. 11-13 to 5-50 is quite an odd age to be at, unless my logic processors are glitched and all my cybertronian to human age equations are wrong? Who knows? Maybe I should ask Willow human? She likes math.
Even with all my problems I wonder why I should listen to any of them, the humans. I am bigger, stronger, and different, I’m not human. Why should I follow human rules? Why don’t I just go and find a bot to help me? All I need to do is turn on my beacon and someone who can help will get a medic-bot. I wish I could do that. No. I don’t want to be bad. I’m here for a reason! My humans said something bad might come if I signal out again; I NEED to trust that they are right. I just need to be good and sit tight, everything will work out. When Prowl comes to get me he will be proud that I followed G-man’s rules. Prowl likes rules, laws, and protocols. He’ll like that I followed them too.
I go over my corrupt files again and try to weed out the bad data from the good. It’s tiresome work but it is something to do since my caretakers won’t let me go out in the daylight or play with their floppy organic tree sheets. G-man didn’t like it when I tossed them around. He said they were old and rare priceless bits of history. I scuffed mentally, sparklings were older then his books and if they were worthless why did he care if I played catch with them? Why value something if it was worth nothing? But then I looked up the word more closely, the books were priceless because they were worth more then currency. How weird. I scanned all of G-man human’s books into my memory bank; I found most of them quite boring. Most of them were histories of blood, teeth, and death . . . but the books made me want to know more about humans and demons so I search the internet. Wondering and learning about humans is better then trying to figure out how to fix myself. I already have programs picking the lint off my files; I don’t need all of me doing something boring! I look at my dark headed caretaker called Ms. Jenny Calendar human, she is reading.
The human sighs and looks at me with a sad smile. “What is it Xander? And please just call me Jenny.”
I rolled my optics and sighed. I don’t know why they don’t like it that I show them respect by saying their name and model, the file I uncovered about cybertronian manners said saying a strangers affiliation, designation, and model is a sign of respect. I don’t know any of the human’s affiliations even though I’ve looked through the internet for it. There is too much to choose from. But because I’ve been searching the World Wide Web I have questions about human culture that confuse me. I’ll start with something seen many times on the internet. “Ms. Jenny?” I crouched down till I was eye level with her.
“Yes?” She closed her book titled ‘Transformation potions of the dark ages’ and looked me right in the optics.
I give her a serious look and she gives one right back. “What is porn?”
I tip my head to the side and give her a questioning click, ‘Eep’ is not in the English dictionary I downloaded. “To create more organic life organics must pair off and make sex. On the World Wide Web it is mainly called porn, why? Why is it listed under entertainment if it is for creating organic sparklings?” Blue beams of light burst from my optics and covered the research corner of the warehouse, a hologram of two naked females and a male covered by a thin sheet on a low white bed pops up on my video scanner looking like real life people. To the human’s optics the room she was currently in had vanished and in its place a sunlit airy room with high windows, tissue paper thin curtains, and bamboo walls tastefully decorated in white and light blues. In the center of this peaceful looking room a lump of sweat covered moaning sun-kissed skin writhing on a snow white futon. Jenny shifted uneasily suddenly feeling like a voyeur when only moments ago she was reading a book. One female with dark blond hair is kissing the golden male’s muscled neck while the one with long brown hair is ducking under the thin almost transparent sheet to—
Jenny human’s optics get wide and she started making small strangled noises of distress; I turn off the imager and the hologram dissolves like matter in the heat of a star. I look at Jenny human with confusion and attempt to do a viral scan on her (A scan that I still can’t get to work!). Why was she making that error noise? Maybe she runs on an old processor like the boxy computers at the place of organic sparkling learning and must make noises when she thinks? I do not ask that question aloud since I believe it would be rude to poke at another beings flaw. Maybe if I encourage her thinking processors with a related question she might answer the others sooner? “If only two humans are needed to make sex what is the other human for?” I turn on the hologram again.
The old book fell from Jenny’s lax fingers and to the floor with a loud thump. Poor human! She is taking soooooo long to compute. Maybe I should get G-man human to give her a jumpstart? Since she is processing my questions maybe I’ll give her one more and hold off on the rest of them since I don’t want to overload her mainframe. I zoom in on the halo image of the three humans till they are my size and point at the one ducking under the sheet and between the male’s legs. “And what is that one doing and why?” I could dig through the internet for my answers but I feel that I should interact more with my caretakers and asking questions about their race is the easiest way.
Jenny human squeaks and slips out of her chair and onto the floor, once her form lost contact with the chair it disappeared into the halo.
“Ms. Jenny?!” My optics widen and I chirp with distress when she turns a bright fiery red and starts choking on her air supple. Humans NEED air! She’s malfunctioning! I poke her head to make sure she’s not in stasis lock. Perhaps ‘eep’ is a human distress signal? If it is it’s not very efficient. Should I call upon the human medic 911 since her ‘eep’ is gaining no aid?
After those questions Jenny human and G-man human told me to restrict my internet use to kid friendly sites. She still never answered my questions though, she said I am too young and will learn when I am a ‘man’. She said she is not having ‘The Talk’ with me or any other child unless it is absolutely dire. Her reason made no sense, how can I become a man? Unless she is saying I should wait till my adult upgrade in seven or so vorns? Well that is just glitched!
One thing that is weird is my caretaker’s happiness with the fact that I can create a hologram ‘again’. Again? With the right upgrades any bot can create a hologram as long as they practice the skill! Most of my kind have the basic halos and like a violin or a high velocity sniper cannon one MUST learn how to use it. I feel a bit embarrassed since only four joors ago did I discover that I even had the halo programs. It took me a WHOLE joor just to figure out how to project a hologram and that was only a copy of a human video. My caretakers think because I can now project a halo I can make one of my own. They are in error but it is nice that they think I am advanced enough to understand all the data and implement it correctly.
Even though I’ve blocked some sites from my processors I still like the World Wide Web, it has lots of fun stuff. My thirteen characters on World of War Craft are ‘cool’, the only characters I’m having a hard time fighting in CamaroBee and friends (I think he’s cheating)! For some reason I like using big axes the most in my fights and adventures. Oh and I love Halo! Master Chief is like a little Autobot! I like all the different guns and worlds and shooting the grunts in the head to make confetti. I’m quite proud to say I’m one of the best players on the game with the exception of the players YellowBee, RC-cycle, BIG-DAMN-IRONGUNS, XHound, and The Doc (they are soooo cheating! Stupid yellow Halo character that looks like a bee!). My favorite weapons are the gravity hammer, the energy sword, and the sniper riffle. Its fun to hide somewhere and pick off players (BIG-DAMN-IRONGUNS curses LOTS when I kill him!).
I also love music! The louder the better! I have files on cybertronian music but I don’t think my humans would like it. Most of the sounds on it are too high or too low for their ears to hear. I love the Earth music it vibrates through every part of my system and when I dance to it I feel I little . . . I don’t know . . . Human maybe? Or maybe it’s free? Buffy human and Willow human grin and start talking about a place called the Bronze. Why do they only dance in certain places? That just seems wrong-ish. They just smile and shake their heads when I ask them to dance with me in the warehouse. Maybe they worry that I will squish them?
With my superior hearing even across the warehouse I can hear the others talk. I try not intrude. I devote most of my processors to having fun and learning how to do the dance the current song I’m playing describes. The Cupid shuffle is very easy but real fun! My sensors ignore the human’s gossip and drown in the music till my name is mentioned. It triggers a small percentage of my sensors to listen in. I continue to shuffle to the right and to the left and dance as if I can’t hear them. I wonder if they would call this being nosy?
“-act like Xander.”
“You know what? I never thought Xander was all that interested in music? He always danced so goofy before. Now he’s all agile and stuff.” Buffy said softly to Willow as she flipped through a book without looking at the pages. Her eyes too busy watching the robot move his hips better then some girls at the Bronze.
Willow shrugged from her spot at her computer, her eyes every once in a while straying to Xander’s metal form. “Me neither. He always liked country! He called it pain music or something like that and he only listened to it when he was upset. His new interest in music and dancing is weird . . . Freaky even! It’s not a Xander thing.”
I faltered in my step for just a second. My dancing is weird and freaky? B-but I’m following the steps just like the humans in the video! Music is not a Xander thing?
“He looks cool.” Oz said lazily as he shrugs a shoulder.
Buffy nods and the girls ignore Oz’s soft comment as if he said nothing at all. “I know what you mean. Xander dancing is supposed to be goofy and make you laugh and feel good about your own mean dancing skills. Right now it’s making me kinda jealous. A robot twelve year old is dancing way better then me! So not fair. Why is he into dancing now anyway? You think its some robot thing?”
Cordelia scuffed as she walked into the warehouse and threw her book bag on the table. “Duh! He’s bored. You all haven’t let him leave this dump yet. I told him to learn interesting stuff like dancing, music, and fashion.”
“Oh! Hi, um Cordelia.” Willow said with a surprised blink. It wasn’t a ‘demons are gonna kill us all night’ so why was the cheerleader here?
Buffy pushed Cordelia’s book bag off the old leather demon book she was supposed to be looking through. Giles wanted her to be familiar with how to kill rumored powerful demons walking around on the hellmouth. She scuffed unhappily rumors from demons and cowardly demon bartenders are so not reliable. She could be out seeing what is wrong with Angel or shopping at the mall or at home vegging with the TV. “Cordelia? Why are you here?”
“Someone has to teach teenage boy robot some class! Maybe some of it will stick through to him when he’s all human again. It would be nice to not have my eyes bleed every time I see one of his awful Hawaiian shirts.” Cordelia upends her bag and out pours fashion and car magazines.
I frown as I listen to the end of the song, human again? When I turn human again? That doesn’t make any sense. I look at the others from my place across the warehouse, maybe they have glitches too? Maybe they’ll eep and turn red like Jenny human did?
“And these?” Buffy flips through a magazine with a small blue Porsche on it.
Cordelia snatched the magazine back and sniffed. “These are for when and if he can’t change back into his normal car form. He could be anything he wants! Why not be something I want?”
Willow looks at the car magazine and blinks. “Isn’t that small one a girl car?”
Cordelia sneers. “Anyone can have a Porsche! Though not everyone would look good in it.” She said thoughtfully as she looked Willow’s cloths over.
Oz looked at the picture of the tiny robin’s egg colored Porsche with its blue glitter pin striping and pink dice on the rearview mirror that just screamed ‘I’m a little rich girl and you’re not.’ “Hn. Mustangs better.”
Cordelia sniffs with her perfect nose in the air. “We’ll just see what Xander thinks.”
I sigh when Cordelia human comes at me with a weird gleam in her brown optics. I check her form to make sure she does not have a weapon of some kind. Sometimes Cordelia human looks scary.
“I don’t need a new form Cordelia human! I like the Earth car in my transformation program.”
“Then why don’t you transform? We haven’t seen boxy car you since your accident. I just assumed you couldn’t do it.” Cordelia huffed.
I stare at the human for a long minute; I can feel annoyance shimmer in my energon filled tubes. Why is Cordelia human trying to change my programming and model? Do I not function to her standards?
Just to show her I turn on my transforming program even through I’m unsure of it. A tingling sensation goes through my form as every nanite, wire, and cog reconfigures itself to new and advanced programming. I swallow my nervousness and start to slowly shift my body into the shape of my earth vehicle. My parts groan in protest partly because I’m reluctant to transform and partially because in my ungraceful attempt bolts and wires scrapped together causing painful sparks. Errors started popping up. I am not transforming as I should! I’m missing parts and trying to compress bulk I do not have! What the slag?! What. The. Slag!? I still and rework the math, changing the program from that of a fully upgraded bot to that of a level 2-3. I should be expanding some areas in my form not compressing. I do that and slowly I fold into a car. I look up at Cordelia human from all four tires smug. “See! No need to reconfigure a new form into my system. This one functions fine!”
I back up and roll away from her, distance is safety. And she does look kind of annoyed. I pull up next to Oz human since besides Jenny human he is the nicest to me. “Oz human would you like to go for a ride?” I pop my driver door open.
Oz blinks then shrugs. “K.”
He’s so talkative.
Used car lot
Turns out I didn’t reconfigure my Mustang form as well as I thought I did. I had to adjust the interior so the form would be comfortable for me. Oz human didn’t find my adjustment uncomfortable when we took a drive but when Willow human and Buffy human joined us they did.
“I don’t WANT to be a little car! Especially THAT little car!” I pout. Why does Buffy want me to be the small round car? My first time out of the warehouse and she takes me to a place where cars sleep. Why can’t I be out during the day with the humans? Why would I want to be a vehicle that is more seat then engine?
“Why don’t you want to be this one? It’s cute! And has more room inside.” Buffy says as she pats the hood.
“It’s pink! The engine is not as powerful as the one I have and the shape will cause wind resistance!” I whine. In the World Wide Web pink is for the female creatures. I’m from a race that has no female or male, cybertronians are all just the same under the circuits. At least from what I’ve read in my specs and the history files. Some act like mechs and some act like femmes but are all the same if you lift their casing. The thing that makes us all different is our sparks; every spark is special and different. From the internet pink is for femmes and I think of myself as a mech so no pink for me! “As I told Cordelia human I don’t need a new form the one I have in efficient!”
“It’s not pink its rose colored, a lighter shade of red. And the mustang is not efficient if it doesn’t fit everyone.” Buffy huffs.
“I don’t want to be a rose colored bug!” I stomp my foot and crack the cement.
Oz nods. “Pink bug not cool.”
“Hey! Don’t you dare act up with me young man!” Buffy says as she shakes a finger at me then her eyes widen in horror. “Oh gah! I sound like my mother!”
I click with confusion. Why is sounding like her creator bad? “I don’t like this form, I want to keep mine.”
“Buuuut Xan! The inside of the mustang in kinda cramped since you shrunk!”
“I don’t want to be a rose colored Volkswagen beetle.” I’ve been toying with the mustang form; I’m determined to make the form more comfortable for the humans. I just have to figure out how to fold myself right. When I tried it before I was missing my back seat and the inside was 11 inches smaller then the vehicle should be. I look like a mustang mini. I don’t understand how I can have the form in my database if I can’t transform into it perfectly? It’s like I’m missing parts! Once I reconfigure the form I’ll be able to do it right! I sit down on the lot and cross my arms. Pout. “I DON’T want a new FORM!”
Oz looks at Buffy and quirks an eyebrow. I sulk and configure my face plates into an expression of displeasure.
Buffy sighs. “Fine. I give up! Someone will just have to ride on the roof if we need to run away from something nasty.”
Even if the bug car looked nice with its removable leather top I still wouldn’t like it, not when it was so Barbie. Oz said it was Barbie’s car. It was a Buffy car not a Xander car. As I pull into the warehouse I rev my engine just to make the humans jump as I roar. Willow human looks disappointed.
“So you couldn’t get him to be that cute little beetle?” Willow asks softly from her place on her computer. “I wish I could have gone with you to help convince Xander but Jenny wanted me to look up spell stuff.”
Buffy shakes her head. “Wouldn’t have done any good if you came anyway. Xan’s a stubborn little kid.”
“Told you he wouldn’t go for it.” Oz hums as he watches me zoom about. I turn on my radio to the children’s station since G-man said I can’t listen to ‘That rap/hip-hop profanity’ and the Hamster dance plays loudly as I move my car form to the silly music. Hopping on my wheels I roll back and forth to the eeping and beeping music. I still wonder what eep means. I bump Oz lightly and he sits on my hood and leans on my window and taps his foot to the wacky music. A happy white noise vibrates through me and I forget just for a moment that I’m a damaged bot in a strange place without my creator.
The next day I’m startled out of my circuits when Buffy storms into the warehouse in tears. She goes to the back of the warehouse that was closed off from me so the books would be safe and plops down on the table with her arms pillowing her head. I slowly wheel over to her as her sobs get louder. “Buffy? Buffy human are you ok?” I don’t like seeing my humans sad and leaking? Maybe she really wanted me to be the bug? Would scanning it and being it make her happy?
She snuffles and looks up at me, her blue eyes red and swimming in tears. “H-hi Xander. Don’t mind me I-I just need to cry for a bit.”
I click unhappily and inch closer to her. “Why are you sad?”
“It’s nothing. Hey, why don’t you go and pick up the others from the school. You know they don’t like to ride with Giles and Ms. Calendar when they are all lovey-dovey.”
I’d frown if I could in car form. “Ok.”
I find out later by eavesdropping that Buffy’s boyfriend broke up with her. That he lost his spark and is now bad. I don’t really understand it but it must be bad since everyone is so grim. How is this Angel creature not dead if he lost his spark? And what is The Judge? I wish they wouldn’t treat me like a kid, I could help them if they would just let me. I shift my arm into a cannon and do the motion to fire without powering it up. Well I’ll help whether they like it or not.