[fic][Transformers '09 movie] Summer Job 2/?

[sakon76]

Summer Job: Road Trip
by K. Stonham
released 12th March 2010

May 23rd, 2010

It was after four in the afternoon when Leo's last box was stuffed in the back of his mom's Impala and he turned to say his good-byes. For Sam, there was a quick handshake and a "Stay in touch, man, alright? No getting involved in more world-ending escapades without me, okay?"

"You got it," Sam agreed. "Good luck keeping ahead of Simmons."

Leo snorted and turned to Mirage. "Mira, mi amore--" he started.

She cut off his attempted embrace with an offered handshake that he reluctantly took. "Have a pleasant summer," she told him. "We'll see you in the fall."

Leo sighed, denied but not deterred. "Grow fonder of me while I'm gone," he instructed before turning to Hound.

Mirage's two suitors regarded one another for a moment, then Hound grinned and grabbed Leo in a manly hug. "Take care, Leo," Hound told him.

"You too," Leo returned. He looked over Hound's shoulder at the yellow Camaro sitting innocently in the parking lot. "And you, you take good care of them, all right? Especially him," he instructed, jerking his thumb toward Sam. "He's a walking trouble magnet."

If the Camaro flashed its lights once and its radio blared a line of song that went "Baby, you got it," it was probably just a troublesome wiring problem. Its owner had been trying to get that fixed for years, after all.

Leo's mom blared her car's horn once and he rolled his eyes and obeyed, getting into the blue car's passenger side. She barely waited for him to close the door before pulling out of the parking space. Leo hurriedly rolled down his window. "I'll see you on TheRealEffingDeal!" he called as they drove away.

"Not if we're lucky!" Sam yelled back, cupping hands around his mouth to make his voice carry. He waved until the car turned a corner and there went his roommate, gone back home for the summer.

As the human turned back toward his three robotic companions, the Camaro's engine suddenly roared to a start. "Let's get this party started!" belted Pink through the open windows. "You've got a fast car, is it fast enough to drive away," Tracy Chapman agreed. "Home, home on the range..." a mournful cowboy chimed in.

*

It hadn't even taken twenty minutes after Leo's departure for the foursome to shake the dust of the university parking lot from their heels and wheels. Somehow, miraculously (no one could quite figure out how, including the 'bot in question), the possessions of one college student and two mechanoids pretending to be college students had all fit in Bumblebee's trunk with a cooler of drinks and food neatly nestled in the back seat beside Mirage. Hound had claimed dibs on deciding their route and the dotted line ran from campsite to campsite all the way across the country. He only wished they had more time to explore, but a week and a half was delaying things as far as he could.

They had nine days to get to Pasadena and then on the tenth day Optimus would be putting in an appearance to answer any questions the Witwickies might have about Sam's summer employment before whisking them all off to Diego Garcia to start integrating with NEST's day-to-day procedures.

The Witwickies, Hound knew from the two weeks he and Mirage spent under their roof during the winter holidays, would not take this well. They'd been entirely gracious to Mirage and him: welcoming them into their home, charming his partner, in fact, far enough that her normal Towers reserve had thawed to unprecedented levels. The four of them had also held a couple of frank late-night discussions about what, exactly, it was that his guardians were protecting Sam against and why. Those conversations had been held long after Sam had gone to sleep, with Bumblebee keeping sensors on their mutual charge.

But somehow, their being able to pass as human made Hound and Mirage more palatable as guests and bodyguards to Judy Witwicky than Bumblebee had been for all the time he had lived with the family. They were less frightening to her, which saddened all three of the Cybertronians though all of them were careful not to show it to Sam.

"We will never fully belong to this planet," Mirage had whispered to Hound once, when all the humans had gone to sleep and the television flickered silently in the living room, bathing the two of them in light.

"I know," Hound had replied quietly, because he did. "But I still wish we could."

There are moments, though, as rare and happy as Mirage's smile, that stand out. Leo continuing to pursue Mirage even though he knows, has seen, what she is. Understanding from the different way they move around one another what Sam and Mikaela and Bumblebee now are to one another. And this, a quiet night beneath a star-filled sky with three Cybertronians and one human gathered around a campfire, Bumblebee unfolded into root mode because their camping site is that isolated from the other campers. Three of them have marshmallows hovering over the fire, toasting on thin sticks and Hound wishes his own people had some sort of similar nutritional intake so that Bumblebee could complete the quartet.

Hound and Mirage are different from most of their brethren in that they can subsist on human food rather than relying on the radiation of this world's star for their sustenance. It would be of little purpose, after all, to be an infiltrator who could not eat the food of those he was among.

(Decepticon rations, Mirage recounts with an elegant shudder, were nasty if adequate.)

Sam shows them how to make the traditional human snack of s'mores, his smile acknowledging that Hound and Mirage and Bumblebee could simply pick the information from the air, from this world's communications system, if they so desired, but understanding in a way that few humans do that data is not experience and friendships are more important than some things.

And later, when Sam is asleep on his side of the tent and Mirage is snuggled next to Hound on their air mattress, taking the time to defrag and dream while her partner guards, Hound looks over at the human and understands why he is a Prime.

They may not ever be able to be a part of his world, but Sam, heart and soul, is a part of theirs.

*

June 1st, 2010

Her cell phone rang just as Mikaela was doing a seat adjustment on a sweet piece of Harley. Grunting with irritation, she considered for a second just letting it go to voicemail, but ultimately took the call.

"Hey, Gorgeous," her boyfriend's voice sounded in her ear, immediately banishing her irritation to the land of never-was.

"Sam!"

"Whatcha up to?"

"Nothing much," she said. It sounded like he was in a car.... "Are you talking while driving?"

"No, 'Bee's driving."

"Uh-huh. And the cop that pulls you over is going to buy that why?"

There was a second's silence while he digested that and, really, it was kind of cute that he'd already forgotten California laws about talking on cell phones while driving. "Right. Mirage, switch spots with me?" And there was rustling and bumping while the two of them climbed over and under one another, swapping driver and passenger spots while 'Bee was probably going at least seventy miles per hour if the 'bot had his say. "There, back," Sam said.

"Great. So where are you?"

"Um. About five minutes away?"

"What?" Mikaela reflexively straightened up, looking out the front of the shop for any sign of yellow Camaro. "Sam!"

"Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"No, but I can't go anyplace like this!" She looked down in dismay at her greasy hands and arms and the absolutely filthy denim overalls she'd donned that morning, knowing she'd be working on some nasty jobs as part of her last day.

"So change," Sam suggested.

"I don't have any other clothes here, Samuel!"

"Mirage, are you and Mikaela about the same size?" he asked one of the other people in the car with him. "Can she borrow something to wear?" he asked after that. The answer to both questions was an overheard "Yes."

"Sam!" Mikaela protested.

"We're taking you out to lunch. Be ready in five," her boyfriend instructed, and she could just hear the grin on his face.

Hanging up, she gritted her teeth and growled.

"Something wrong, sweet cheeks?" her father asked.

"Sam!" she said exasperatedly, as though that should explain everything. She huffed and consciously dropped her shoulders. "He's showing up in five and taking me out to lunch and I look like this!"

"Ya look fine to me, Goddess," Wheelie replied from where he was cleaning and sorting nuts and bolts into different containers.

She smiled at him. He'd freaked out the rest of the shop guys the first month or so, but eventually they'd gotten used to the little Autobot, and he was an unfailing source of support for Mikaela. "Thanks, Wheelie."

"Any time," he replied and returned his attention to his task, peering closely at a muck-encrusted nut.

By the time Bumblebee actually pulled up in front of the shop, Mikaela had at least managed to scrub her hands and arms pinkly clean again with the Borax soap any mechanic swore by, and was halfway through doing her hair. Holding the brush in her teeth, she grabbed a couple of pencils out of a cup and stuck them through a loose bun as the car's engine cut off, going out the door just in time to see Mirage get out of the car.

And, okay, the guys were used to Mikaela because she knew the ins and outs as well as they did, and she'd made it abundantly clear that she had a boyfriend and was not looking to trade in, and, well, her dad coming to work in the same garage had quelled the last few die-hards, but it was still a little irksome to see how many hands paused as eyes slid over to look at the Pretender.

Mikaela wondered if they'd still find Mirage as sexy if they knew about her little stunt putting a rapier through an apparent Secret Service agent's forehead.

...Knowing a few of her coworkers, actually, probably yes.

But then there was Sam, utterly ignoring the sculpted perfection that was Mirage to take Mikaela in his arms, breathing her in in a kiss.

"Wow," Mikaela said when they finally came up for air. "Miss me?"

"You have no idea," he fervently swore.

"Sammy," her dad said, coming up behind them. Ex-con-former-car-thief Calvin Banes hadn't exactly warmed to upper-middle-class Ivy-League-scholarship Sam Witwicky, but Mikaela was a grown woman and knew her own mind and there was no way her dad was going to make her drop the best boyfriend she'd ever had. And her dad knew it, so it had never been an issue. And, granted, the whole brief international fugitive thing had scored Sam a point or two....

"Mr. Banes," Sam said, not quite letting go of Mikaela, but shaking her dad's hand.

"I'm expecting her to be home by eleven this summer," Calvin Banes instructed as though Sam had any say on her time of transportation. He'd be better off talking to a certain semi, Mikaela thought, but then was pulled away from her father and boyfriend by a slender, pale hand whose implacable grip was stronger than anything human has a right to be. Hound and Mirage were good at imitating humans, but there were certain things it was impossible for even them to change or hide. Hound was at Bumblebee's trunk, unabashedly going through an oversized duffel of Mirage's belongings and pulling out an outfit he thought would look good on Mikaela even though her coloring and Mirage's were so different. Mikaela just managed to draw a heart on Bumblebee's paneling before being hustled off to change.

*

"WHAT?!" she demanded, half-standing in shock before catching herself and sitting back down. She cast apologetic glances around the other denizens of the restaurant. "Samuel," she hissed, looking back at him, suddenly furious, "this had better be a joke."

And damn it, he had his serious face on, which meant that it wasn't a joke. Stealing a look at Hound and Mirage over the crepes they'd all ordered, Mikaela saw in their expressions that it wasn't a joke either.

"It's not my fault," Sam breathed so that no one not sitting at their table could hear. "Take it up with the dead guys in the Matrix if you want someone to blame."

"I'm having a little trouble seeing how it's not your fault that you're a Prime," Mikaela hissed at him.

"Oh, so it's my fault that we needed to bring Optimus back to life," he batted at her.

"No, that's Megatron's fault," she retorted. "It's your fault you picked up that Cube sliver at your house which started the whole thing."

"Oh, and it's my fault Hoover Dam and Las Vegas happened, which is why the sliver was on my sweatshirt."

"No, that's the morons at Sector Seven's fault," Mikaela parried. "They're the ones who stuck him and it in the same facility."

"Fine, let's just blame Grandpa Archibald for finding Megatron in the first case."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"You know," Hound commented to Mirage, "as much as I study their species, sometimes I just really don't understand them."

*

June 2nd, 2010

"You're WHAT?!" Judy Witwicky's shriek could be heard from outside the house. Optimus resisted the urge to shift uneasily on his tires even as Sam tried his best to placate his mother. Ron Witwicky, from the sound of things, was also trying to rein in his wife's outburst. Sam, Optimus mused, probably got his easy acceptance of the outre from his father, whose reaction to most Autobot-related phenomena seemed to be "resigned."

Sam definitely got his spunk from his mother, though, who burst through the front door trailing hapless males in her wake, marched down the front steps, and pointed a finger at the flame-painted semi truck parked at her curb. "You!" she declared loudly. "This is all YOUR fault!"

Ironhide was right, Optimus thought ruefully. The female of the human species was definitely the more dangerous when provoked. All of a sudden Bumblebee's insistence on taking Mikaela home (her residence being several miles away from the Witwicky's) made more sense.

"Mom. Mom, calm down," Sam was pleading with his mother.

Looking at the pair of them, Ron Witwicky sighed and crossed his arms before turning back to the Peterbilt. "So," he said in the conversational tone his wife was failing to maintain, "he's a Prime and you're a Prime."

"Yes," Optimus admitted.

"Which makes you kind of brothers," Ron continued.

"I would be honored to consider Sam my brother," Optimus agreed.

Ron smiled a very small smile. "Judy!"

"What?!" she demanded, turning toward him.

"If they're brothers, we just adopted a Prime."

It took a second before anyone moved after that statement, but then Judy's eyes lit up. Alarmed, Optimus sent a brief plea in his own language to his human brother. Who was, from the way he was smiling, suddenly realizing a new advantage to no longer being an only child. "Sorry, Optimus," Sam said, looking remarkably like his father all of a sudden as Judy descended upon the Cybertronian in a much better mood than a moment before, "you're on your own with this one."

*~*~*

Author's Note: Story edited by okami_myrrhibis, hoshikage, and my Wonderful Husband. The restaurant Sam, Mikaela, Hound, and Mirage end up dining at is Wild Thyme in Pasadena, where the Witwicky house and Sam's high school are... even if his driver's license in RotF says Los Angeles. Wild Thyme has awesome crepes and an even better mint milkshake. ^_^ Chapter three of this story will be out whenever it's done. Halfway there!