"The Duchess? Seriously? That's what he calls you." If there was ever a time that Carli was irritated, it was when Sam took that tone with her. That self-righteous, sarcastic tone. As if he were mocking her. She half turned in her seat to glare at him over her shoulder, then turned back to the mirror.
"Please, Samuel. You make it sound as if I'm cheating on you or something. I can't help it if the man is enamored with me." Sam snorted, and she heard the flop of his shoes on the carpet. Her eyes were too green, and she smoothed a finger over each lid, trying to fix the pigment. It was a complicated shift in algorithms, and she almost missed when Sam appeared behind her in the mirror.
"I don't think that. I just think you like the attention. Especially because he's intelligent." The color came to her cheeks involuntarily. She stared at it for a moment, then decided she didn't like it and swept that line of code from the program. The blush faded just as quickly as it had appeared.
"He has good taste in cars. I respect anyone that has good taste." His hand was warm on her neck as he swept her hair over one shoulder. Skin (so false, but so good) prickled as he bent down to kiss the juncture of her throat.
"As if. You don't respect me," he muttered, a smile in his eyes. Carli felt a flutter, and began a diagnostic almost absently to assess it.
"Never. Because you never listen to me. Even if I'm just trying to keep you safe." She reached out, pausing tentatively with her fingers hovering over his cheek. As if reading her, he pushed his face into her palm. Like a cat, only ten times more wicked with that smile. She couldn't help but wonder how humans survived with this many neurons in their hands. How could Sam bear to touch anything when it felt so...what was the word? Was there a word for it in English? She couldn't remember.
She opened her mouth to speak, but her vocals squealed unpleasantly. Sam grinned.
"Still having voice problems?" A few adjustments, and she managed to say in an almost passably hoarse voice,
"Now you're being obnoxious. Cut it out." He nipped playfully at her wrist, and she withdrew with reluctance as all her sensors shuddered.
"I have to admit, this is very convincing," Sam purred, fingers dancing up to the nape of her neck. She drew her shoulders up defensively at the curl of lust that accompanied his fingertips in her hair.
"Yes, thank you. Now kindly remove your hands before you melt all my programming." Instead of listening, his lips covered hers, and distantly she could feel an engine rumbling to life, Spark kicking widely in his chasis, energon pumping so hard that his whole frame shook-
-it took a few minutes to regather in Carli, but Bumblebee managed it. He felt weary as he slipped inside the shell, and found Sam supporting her from where she'd nearly fallen off the stool.
"I almost think you like this body better," she murmured as she struggled to online all systems. It was another moment or two before she could stretch out a hand and use the makeup table to right herself.
Sam was giving her hurt eyes, and she realized what she'd said ten seconds too late.
"Bee, you know that's not how I feel about her. About Carli. The only reason I can touch her is because I know you feel it." She blinked rapidly, trying to re-calibrate her pupils. Finally she sighed.
"I know, Samuel. But it's so difficult to just...trust your word. I wish I could know. I wish-" And his hand closed around hers, lacing through hers. The joints were too stiff, too formal as she folded her fingers around his strong human ones.
"Have faith in my word, Bee," he said, and so he did.
AN: I came up with this idea after watching that clip of T3 on yahoo. I couldn't wrap my head around what this Carli girl might be for. She can't just be more eye candy in my mind, she just can't. And then I realized she was blonde, worked with cars, and had a British accent. SO IT'S VERY OBVIOUSLY BUMBLEBEE IN DISGUISE. :DDDD