A/N: This is something that crawled into my brain after watching RotF for the, um, millionth time? LOL I happen to love that movie, even with all it's inconsistencies and the like. It still makes me grin every time I hear Optimus or Ironhide speak. What can I say? I'm a total fangirl. :P Believe it or not, I was inspired by one of the lines from the Fallen--that the All-Spark energy cannot be destroyed, it can only transform. So, given that, and given how the All-Spark in the first movie reacted to almost any Cybertronian it came in contact with, I thought this to myself: What would have happened if the All-Spark energy was active in Sam when Alice kissed him? The result is this story. I hope you enjoy it as muc has I do. :D

I would like to take the time to thank Razorgaze for her awesomeness in beta work. She keeps up with me even with how erratic I am with writing and ideas. She's also a great author as well. Her story "Our Debt" is a wonderful read and is linked in my profile page. Go read it if you have the time. It's very much worth it. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but any OCs I happen to create. Please do not sue. This is purely for fun and I'm not making any money from it.

Chapter One

I watched them pull away, noting the self-satisfied smirk on Mikaela Banes's face. Not that I could blame her, really. Had I found another femme attempting to spark with my mech, I would have done a lot more than ram her repeatedly into a lamp post. A lotmore. But then again, she was only an organic, with an organic's short temper and lack of ability to completely process actions to their logical conclusion.

Had she done so, she would have known it would take more than being crushed between substandard steel to end my existence.

Still, I let the illusion of death cover me, let the human world think that I was no more. And when humans came to investigate the accident, I gave the illusion of my parts melting into a foul-smelling soup, sliding away into the storm drains on the side of the street. Allowing the fleshlings to believe I was destroyed was one thing, allowing them to take me into custody was something else entirely.

With any luck, one of the little meat creatures captured my death with their video equipment. With a touch more of the luck, that video would come across Soundwave's optics, and the Decepticons would believe I was offlined, too. Primus, let it be so, I prayed silently as I transformed under my illusion, becoming thin and small enough to filter through the before-mentioned storm drain.

Because after that one kiss, that one attempt to touch the mind of Samuel James Witwicky, everything changed. In that one attempt, I had touched something… more.

They say that, in the course of a Cybertronian lifespan, a mech or femme was expected to have at least three epiphanies. The first being the notion of self-awareness, the next having to do with selecting one's future profession based on the programming and personal tastes one acquires along their life-journey. The last being the moment a mech or femme laid optics on he or she that would become their sparkmate.

But those glorious moments were saved only for the mechs and femmes. Drones like me? It was unheard of to have a revelation. We were symbionts, created for a specific purpose and not for independent thought. We weren't strong or determined, or even possessed of any kind of real self-awareness. We existed to serve and that was all.

Until now.

Until the moment that I kissed Sam Witwicky and experienced that first epiphany of utter self-awareness.

I leaned against the concrete pipe wall of the storm drain system, a three-pronged hand pressing against the wondrous pulse of a spark of my own. I had a spark to begin with, don't get me wrong. But it was a spark-splinter, a piece of a stronger mech's spark that he placed in me at my creation. It made me his drone, his slave for lack of a better term. But now… now the spark in me pulsed of its own accord.

I smiled, finding it rather ironic that I overheard Leo telling Sam that I might have put something inside of him, when in actuality he had put something inside of me. But what did that make me? Was I Cybertronian still, or a human half-breed? Was I considered a femme now and not a drone? Was I still a Decepticon or now an Autobot? Was the choice even mine?

The second real emotion to cross my mainframe was that of fear. Real and true and circuit-paralyzing fear. I couldn't go back to the Decepticons now, not being a self-aware femme. Starscream would kill me on sight, trying to maintain the ironclad reign of fear and control that Megatron had instilled. The Fallen certainly would not welcome me into the fold, either. That mech hated femmes more than any other Decepitcon in existence.

But could I bend knee to the Autobots? Would they even believe me if I tried, or would they fire at me on sight like Starscream would have? And how would I explain this to them in the first place? Drones don't act independently, not unless their mech creator was destroyed, and even then they were slightly insane from the loss of that bond. Most were simply offlined for their own good.

I vented air rapidly, terrified down to my core programming. How had this human boy done this to me? How had one kiss created so much havoc?