Another 2 short scenelets from the move - one pre, one during.
Asking Much
Sam had asked him not to, but Bumblebee had never wanted to eavesdrop on a conversation more than now. It did after all, sort of involve him.
Well, he assumed it did. The other Autobots certainly. The government had left Sam alone the past year, with the understanding that nobody was to know he was at Mission City, and that his car was just a car. Why they would choose to reappear now had clearly puzzled the boy. Not so much Bumblebee, who had been kept up to date with the latest news when it came to the Autobot/Human treaties, but Sam hadn't.
The Camaro started playing easy listening, in an attempt to ignore the house, and the conversation that would be oh so easy to hear if he adjusted his audios just so…
Bad Bumblebee! Bad!
"You really wont budge on this?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed, resisting the urge to glare at the two men in black sitting on the couch in front of him. They'd been doing this dance for almost half an hour, and it was getting old.
"Look, I'm flattered. Really. But I have other plans for after school. And they start with 'C'. I'm not ready for a full-time-secret-government-career."
"The Autobots have been rather adamant," one of the men began, using a twist on an older argument. "The treaties are insisting that the Autobots not be allowed on film in case of leaks, and they can't fit into most buildings. They need a human mediator, and right now the only one that they're interested in is you."
"And a military liaison isn't an option since they would get their hands tied in classified red tape," the other finished, noting Sam getting ready to argue. "It needs to be a civilian, and you're the only one they trust."
"It doesn't even have to be full time," the first insisted. "Just…keep up to date the with treaties, go to the discussions and planning meetings. The government will pay for your college fees – you could go anywhere in the country."
"Thanks," Sam replied. "But I can get anywhere I want on my own. And that's how I'm doing it."
And they really couldn't argue that he couldn't. Sam Witwicky's grades had shot up in recent times. If he kept at his current pace he could earn a scholarship anywhere he wanted. It was the sudden IQ shift that had made the government so agreeable to offering him the position.
The men tried one more time.
"Mr Witwicky, your country needs you," one said. "Are you really going to ignore a call to duty like this?"
Sam burst into laughter. "Oh no, you are not getting me with the whole 'your country needs you' bit. I'm not military, and I have done more than my fair share as of a year ago. I've got the back problems to prove it. Get out."
The men sighed. It was clear Sam Witwicky wasn't going to be bribed, cajoled or guilted into this. The Autobots weren't going to be happy, but at least this meant they might consider one of the men the government had short-listed for the job.
Sam walked the men to the door, and when the car had driven off, gave a sidelong glance to the garage. The doors were open, and he could see a flash of yellow paint. Briefly, he wondered if Bumblebee had been able to keep his word, and walked over.
"Well?" The Camero's radio clicked, and Sam brushed his hand over the hood before leaning against it.
"I'm guessing you knew what that was about?"
The Camero stayed silent, evidence enough that he did.
Sam sighed, and explained anyway. "Optimus and the others want me to be some kind of liaison. The government agrees."
The Camero quickly began playing 'The One and Only,' and Sam smiled. The Autobot wasn't going to like what he had to say.
"I turned them down."
The song cut off with a screech, and the radio filled with static before finally settling on a whiny child's voice.
"But whhyyy?"
Sam winced at the volume, and patted the hood again.
"That's not my place, Bee. At the end of the day I'm just a normal kid. I'm not cut out for it, and I never will be."
Bumblebee wanted to differ, but before he could put it in song, Sam was off his hood and tugging his door open. He slipped into the drivers seat and brushed his hands over the wheel.
"I want to go to college, Bee," he explained. "No one else in my family ever made it, and I want to change that. If my grades keep up I can go anywhere. My teachers are telling me to apply to Princeton. Princeton!"
A quick internet search helped explain why this made Sam so excited, and Bumblebee sagged on his tires for a brief moment. In some ways the boy was right, he was still young, and he had a right to the things others his age did. Surely the position or mediator could wait a few years?
College kid or Autobot liaison, as long as Bumblebee could stay by Sam's side. That was enough for him.
TBC