Hello, and welcome to our Obligatory Sam's Sister/Autobot fic!
The autobot in particular is, as you must already know, Bumblebee. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. A friend of ours was the one who initially asked me to write this, but I fell in love with Bumblebee m'self after watching the movie again and happily took it on. (This is actually a solo writing project of Elis, though Senna did collaborate for some of the non-movie scenes you'll see later. Text-wise, Senna has little to do with this, since she's terribly busy with school. By busy I mean we only talk sometimes and when we do, she's drowning in textbooks. So if you're a Province of Men reader wondering why we're working on something else and not PoM, it's not that! Senna is PoM's main writer, and since she hasn't come out with the first draft of the next chapter yet, I have nothing to add on. Totally not my fault. -cough-)
Anyway, yes, she's Sam's older sister, so you won't see the school scenes much here. Everything else you likely will, with a touch of Jamie (the OC). I'd explain the character off, but we'd like you to get to know her yourself!
Enjoy! And we'd love to hear what you think afterward.
Change of Plans
Chapter 1: Homecoming
Jamie hated packing. Mostly because packing entailed unpacking, and her nail clippers always inexplicably disappeared—but it was a stress reliever, and her friends were causing her an insane amount of stress this morning. So, tucking the last of her things into her bulky bag, she pressed her palms against the pile and grinned. She could already hear them from the hallway.
"Jamie!" the door swung open, whining noisily with two girls: the first, Lauren, all blonde hair and bright eyes, and the other, Aya, naturally pale with distinctly Japanese features. Lauren crossed her arms in displeasure. "Are you sure you can't go with us to the cruise?"
"Nope," she replied, giving them an apologetic chuckle as she slammed her suitcase shut. Tying her shoulder-length red hair into a ponytail, she said, "You'll have to do this one without me, ladies."
"But it's the Caribbean!" Aya cried, expertly leaping across the room to land on Jamie's bed and curling up into the sheets. Lauren muttered something that sounded like showoff. "This cruise will be the highlight of our college lives! Next to winning the championships, anyway, and our Europe trip after grad..."
Lauren and Aya had been the best of friends since high school, but upon entry into Princeton were physically separated by one Jamie Witwicky—the former's assigned roommate. As easy as it would have been to convince her to switch rooms with Aya, the two decided to adopt her—the only one in her high school class who'd decided to stick to Princeton—and it was a good thing, too. By some lazy stroke of fate, they'd all been drafted by the same coach into the women's track and field team.
The two had dreamt of going on a cruise since high school, but were unable to before college—hence the Caribbean trip that fall recess. Jamie would have loved to join Lauren and Aya, but she'd spent the last summer on a cross-country road trip with them, with only a week saved for her family. Dad hadn't been happy, and allowed her only on the condition that she stayed with them for fall recess.
"You know it was this cruise or the summer road trip," she reminded them.
Lauren grabbed a pillow from her side of the room, decorated in posters of her favorite actors, and hurled it at a squirming Aya. "Stop whining," she laughed, green eyes twinkling. "You forget Jamie here's from LA."
"Oooh," Aya teased Jamie, all the while avenging herself by hurling Jamie's pillows at Lauren. "Party girl!"
"You guys are so lame," Jamie giggled, ducking out of the way of the escalating pillow fight to grab her earphones from her sidetable drawer. Lauren attacked her with an outlying scrunchie anyway. "Hey!"
"Lame," repeated Lauren, feigning confusion by scratching her head, "who still says that?"
"Miss plans-and-all-put-together, of course," Aya grinned, ceasing her volley of pillows in favor of swinging her knees over the edge of Jamie's bed. "Come on, Jamie! My dad can still move your flight a few days. Your parents won't even know! This'll be fuuun! Can't you just go home early?"
"If it'll be anything like our summer trip, no thanks," she joked. "But really, not this time. But enjoy the sightseeing—for my sake!"
"I'll be doing a helluva lot of sightseeing, all right," Aya cackled.
"Same here," Lauren winked. "Just don't tell Tony."
"And I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Jamie replied, pretending to gag. Aya rolled her eyes in agreement. They both knew it was a lie: Lauren and Tony, one of the soccer guys, were so into each other that it was unspoken rule to just not go on double dates with them. Not that Jamie had dated since freshman year, but Aya's experiences were enough to stave them off double dates for good.
"Okay, I'm ready," Jamie locked her suitcase, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder, and smiled at her friends. "Who wants to drive me to the airport?"
"We're taking my car," said Aya, picking up the pillows and tossing them back in place. "Jamie, what would you do without us?"
"Probably implode from being so organized and helpless," answered Lauren.
"Or stop getting heart attacks for once, without your antics," was her own response.
The two laughed, leaving the dorm room and stepping out into the silence of a hallway in the middle of midterms week. Jamie took one final, sweeping glance at the room. Her side was as organized as Lauren's (and Aya's, who often slept over) was utter chaos, and she couldn't help but grin.
Jamie was going to miss this, but it was only two weeks. She'd be back before she knew it, and nothing would have changed.
A cab pulled up in front of a brown house, its old muffler providing the only sound in the quiet suburban neighborhood that sunny afternoon. Then again, Jamie mused, stepping out of the car, everyone said it was always sunny here.
"Thanks," Jamie handed her cab driver the amount on the meter and a little tip—the fare was cheaper than usual, so she gave him a bit more—and took her suitcase from him. "Have a good day!"
"You too," he waved, tucking the cash into his pocket for the time being. "Good luck with that, uh, reunion."
When he drove off, Jamie sighed. She hated car rides.
Well, not car rides, per se. More the lulling sense of freedom she felt in a tiny moving vehicle that got her to talk more than she should—especially to whoever was driving, especially because she was a terrible driver. Her dad had spent money getting her actual formal lessons, but she just couldn't get the hang of it. Her mom joked that it was why she took track.
At least she was here now—though her dad didn't seem to be around, since the car was out. The heat compared to the east coast she hadn't exactly missed, but it was home, sweet home.
The front yard was renovated, again, though she wasn't surprised. Her dad could never decide where to put the fountain, and constantly moved his 'path' around depending on where it was at any given time. Now it was in the middle, right in front of the door, right where it had started when they'd first gotten a fountain.
Chuckling to herself, it was only then when Jamie realized that as much as she would miss her friends, she'd missed her parents, too. As for her brother, they were always chatting online, sending random links and ranting to each other—and she would never seriously admit missing him to his face, anyway.
Two steps was all it took before her mom Judy came screaming out of the house. "My baby!" she cried, arms wide open and trapping Jamie in an unexpectedly tight embrace. Her mom was powerful for such a skinny woman. "My baby girl is home!"
"Hi mom," Jamie grinned, kissing her on the cheek. "Where's dad? Sam still in class?"
"Oh, they're out getting the car you never wanted," she said dismissively, clearly wanting to say something else. "When did you get here?"
"That hurts," Jamie muttered. "Or it would if I could drive."
"Honey, how did you get here so early?" her mom insisted. Her Southern accent was even more prominent when she was determined to get her way. "Ron wasn't supposed to pick you up till next week!"
"You know Aya's dad. He has, like, a billion free points to spend, so he got me this one-way trip here early. And Lauren and I got our professors to let us take early exams, so..." Jamie waved, gesturing at the situation in general. "We're off for two weeks. This one and fall recess!"
"That's wonderful!" said Judy, motioning to the unfinished stepping stones her husband was still in the middle of fixing. "You can help your dad set up the path! He's moved it again, and you know how Sam is with the garden..."
"Yeah, all right," Jamie nodded, pulling her things from the sidewalk up on the grass. "Just don't tell dad I was on his grass again. Though I guess—"
"He can tell," mother and daughter mocked in unison, then laughed, only to be interrupted by a small creature that tried very hard to sound intimidating.
"Hi, Mojo!" Jamie set her things on the front porch before crouching down before the Chihuahua, neck dangling with sparkling necklaces and a cast around his leg. "Didja miss me? Hey..." He whimpered as she touched the bandage on his leg and recoiled. "Whoa, sorry, Mojo. Mom, what happened to him?"
Judy's eyes glanced around shiftily. "He got into a little, uh, accident."
"What kind of accident?"
The woman pretended not to hear her until she finally sighed, rolling her eyes. "I might've loaded him in the washing machine..."
Jamie gasped, gingerly lifting the dog into her arms. "Mom!"
Judy gestured helplessly at the Chihuahua. "Look at that precious thing, he's tiny!"
"Poor Mojo," she shook her head, feigning disappointment at her mom. So this was what Sam had meant the other night when he mentioned being pissed at Mom for some reason, except she'd had to study before he could explain further.
"But his bling is gorgeous, right?" Judy asked, changing the subject.
Jamie didn't notice and replied, "Oh, yeah! It's adorable!"
Her mom clapped, pleased at someone finally appreciating her handiwork on the dog. It was really too bad Sam had no taste in accessories. "Come in already! Did you have lunch at the plane?"
"No. I picked up a sandwich at the airport, but that was hours ago. What was for lunch?" asked Jamie, following her inside the living room and taking a whiff. She set Mojo down. That definitely smelled like home. The house looked the same—inside renovations were much more expensive and time-consuming, according to her dad, so he didn't change it often—all warm colors and cozy walls, the kind she didn't have in the dorm. The kitchen past that was still a mess. Dad had long ago made the distinction that Jamie had him to thank for being so organized, and she definitely got that now.
Before Judy could answer (and at that point, Jamie wasn't sure she wanted to know), a loud rumbling announced more arrivals at the front yard—in particular, an angry Ron Witwicky groaning about his grass. Her mom waved at her to stay put and met them at the door.
"What is that?" she could hear her mom say from the door.
"Old Camaro," answered her father, hanging his car keys at the rack. "Got it for a bargain. Four thousand flat. Judy, did you get on my grass again?"
"That's nice," said her mom, ignoring his whining. "But I have a better bargain!"
"Oh?" His voice took an almost sultry tone. Jamie actually gagged. She hated hearing this sweet talk stuff from her parents. "Is it something nice for me?"
Her mom giggled. "Not that, you silly man!"
"Then what is it?" she could tell from her dad's tone that he was frowning, and that was her cue. "Don't tell me it's another—Jamie! When did you get back?"
"Hi, dad!" Jamie laughed, emerging from the kitchen and accepting his bear hug, though she actually had a stronger grip. Must've gotten that from mom, she thought humorously. "About an hour ago. Aya's dad has lots of points, so he got me a trip home and the girls got a Caribbean cruise. Took our midterms early," she summarized before he could ask.
"Right, right." Ron's eyes narrowed at her. "You didn't bring anyone home, did you? Remember—"
"No sacrifice, no victory," sighed Jamie. "I know, dad, no dating again till after college."
"You are such a stick in the mud," Judy shook her head at her husband. "Jamie, it is fine if you want to date again! But preferably someone as handsome and maybe, you know, muscular, like Nathan was..."
"Judy!" Ron groaned.
"Uh, okay. Great advice, mom." Jamie smiled awkwardly and motioned to the yard. "I'm gonna go check out the new—"
"Oh."
Jamie stopped at the sight of Sam at the door, schoolbag over his shoulder. Despite the obvious difference in hair color, people said they looked almost too much alike—the round face, the green eyes, the nose, the humor, though neither believed that last one. The two watched each other, staring almost warily with one brow quirked high, testing the other to speak, until Sam shrugged.
"Hey, James. When did you get back?"
Jamie feigned nonchalance as she looked over her nails. "A little while ago. Samantha."
Not a lot of people knew, but her full name was Jamie Samantha T. Witwicky. Sam's? Samuel James T. Witwicky. Ron was to thank for that: he and Judy had kept their eldest's sex a secret even to themselves until the birth, though he was so sure it was a boy, could feel it in his veins, he said—but named the child Jamie, just to be sure. And when she came out as a girl, well...Samantha was tacked on. Four years later, when he finally had a son, he gave him the name he'd always wanted a son of his to have: Samuel James.
So, generally, Sam and Jamie just agreed that their parents were weird, and they loved them for it—but also that they should keep the name thing a secret if they could.
Similar eyes squinted at one another. The older one finally grinned, "I bet you missed me more than I missed you."
"I doubt it," said her younger brother, equally amused. "All I thought about was my new car. Wanna see it?"
It was a faded yellow Camaro, two wide stripes of black painted at the center of its hood running down its trunk. Jamie traced a finger on the hood and flicked the dust off.
"Not bad," she commented. "Just needs a good wash. And a new paint job, if you can afford it."
"Took me ages to get those two thousand dollars," Sam shook his head. "I think I'll be broke for a while."
Jamie tried to fight down a telling smile as she asked, "Hey, weren't you selling our great-great-grandpa's stuff? Got any bids on that?"
"Oh, right!" Sam hopefully snapped a finger. "I'll check in a bit."
"Uh-huh." Jamie snickered and headed into the Camaro, taking the driver's seat. She turned the wheel left and right, then noticed the insignia in the center. It was some kind of face. "Sam, what's this?"
Sam glanced up from his cellphone—probably Miles, because Sam would mention if he had a girlfriend, and anyway, the latter was a little unlikely—to peer through the lowered window. "I noticed that too, but I have no idea. Must come with the custom job."
She nodded in comprehension. "How does it drive?"
Sam lifted a brow at that. "Why?" he asked humorously. "You driving?"
Jamie made a face at him. "Hilarious."
Sam bowed in jest and answered seriously, "Weird enough, it's almost like brand new. Not anything rickety like you'd expect."
"Really?" Jamie blinked. "That is weird."
"Yep. Well, except for the smoke. I'd let you take it for a spin, but, y'know..."
"I get it!" she threw her hands in the air. "I can't drive!"
Sam laughed. "Okay. I'm gonna take my stuff up." Tossing her the keys through the window, he headed back for the house, but backtracked a little and pointed an accusatory finger at her. "Don't leave town. Or the garage."
Jamie rolled her eyes but waved him away. She'd get her comeuppance soon. Alone in the car, she took her time inspecting its contents. Old radio, old leather seats, dusty dashboard, weird insignia, and a bunch of dirty stuffed toys in the back. Hanging from the rear-view mirror was an angry cartoon bumblebee with the words, "Bee-otch."
"Heh, bee-otch," Jamie chuckled, tired from her flight, and yawned. She only had herself to blame for planning way too many things and never giving herself enough free time, but she was really going to have to take a long rest before she went out with her high school friends the next evening. Leaning against the seat and turning on her side, she realized the car wasn't actually too bad for something so old. The seats were still comfortable, hard like new leather. It looked old, but sort of smelled new...
"Huh?" she pressed her face to the headrest and sniffed, then frowned. "It does smell new. Either that's really good maintenance or...just weird. Wonder if Sam..."
Jamie stepped out of the car and called out, "Hey, Sam! I just noticed something!"
Sam's window slammed open as her brother stuck his head out. He looked less than pleased compared to his teasing just minutes ago. "Yeah, me too, Jamie. Real funny! You really get your humor from dad!"
"What are you two yelling about?" said father stepped out of the house. Sam shut his window at them both, so Ron, arms crossed, was left to interrogate his daughter. "Enlighten me."
Jamie smiled sheepishly. "He might have been selling...things...on eBay, and I might have bid for...a dollar or two? What did you do, dad?"
Ron dropped his serious countenance and snickered. "Made him think he was getting a Porsche."
"Okay, that was cruel," she agreed, covering her mouth as she chuckled just in case Sam was still listening. Soon enough, her dad went back inside—and when he did, the car behind her let out an odd groan. Almost like something had tried to move it.
Jamie whirled around, but nothing seemed to have happened. Frowning, she approached the Camaro and climbed into the back seat. Nothing there, just the...
"Ugh," she coughed, a musty smell seeping into her throat. "What the...? How did that happen?"
Then she felt like an idiot. Why was she even talking to a car? One that suddenly smelled as old as it looked?
"Anyway," she said, since she was already at it, "I'm taking these."
Swiping the lion stuffed toy from the dashboard and the other plushies from the backseat, Jamie moved to open the door—only it was jammed. She tried the other one, and the driver's seat door, and the passenger seat door—all locked. Her fingers pried at the locks, attempting to lift them, but they were stuck. And the driver's seat window had been rolled up. Jamie guessed she did that when Sam had gone up without realizing it. But that wasn't the problem.
"Hey!" Jamie yelled, slamming the glass window. "Dad! Sam! Can you hear me? I'm stuck in the car!"
No luck. She groaned. "Why do I always leave my phone lying around instead of in my pocket? Come on!" she kicked the door and regretted it immediately. This thing was sturdy. Not that she was of the habit of kicking car doors. "I need to wash these stuffed toys to put off unpacking, then nap! Open!"
Jamie might have added sesame if the door hadn't opened by itself. She fell forward, stuffed toys falling before her as she raised her arms to shield her face, but jerked painfully back on the driver's seat. Groaning in pain, she glanced over at what had saved her—a seatbelt buckle that had gotten stuck in her belt strap.
"Don't know if I'm lucky or unlucky today," she grumbled, snapping it off her and picking up the stuffed toys. She slammed the car door and left for the house. "But that car is dangerous to my health."
The following evening, Sam set the table for two with a wide grin on his face. Just a while ago, he'd experienced the best afternoon of his life—how many guys not like Trent could say they'd taken Mikaela Banes home in his (not so) brand new car? Sure, they'd talked about her exes and her annoying inclination to jocks like Trent, and Miles—after expressing his disappointment about being ditched at the party, but whatever—was pretty sure that wasn't what girls who were into you talked about, he'd talked to Mikaela. He'd meant what he said in the car—there was more to her than met the eye.
Sam groaned at the memory. Those words would haunt him for the rest of his life.
He was seesawing between being utterly happy and smacking himself for being such an idiot when his sister came down in party clothes and heels. She wore her usual amount of clubbing make-up, from what he remembered, but he could tell by the way she blinked and yawned that she was still waking up from her afternoon nap.
Jamie and her clutch slumped at the dinner table as she leaned her chin against her fist. "What's for dinner, Samantha?"
"Glad you asked, James," said Sam, and transferred his creations onto a bunch of plates. With a flourish of his arm, he motioned to each dish. "Over here we have strips of smoked pork loin. If you look to your right, you'll find the freshest frankfurters from Vienna with a side of crispy toasted bread. To top that off, I've added your favorite—folded eggs."
His sister took a whiff of the stuff and smiled. "Ah. Breakfast food at its finest."
"I prefer the term haute cuisine. Unless you wanna make your own dinner."
"I'm starving, so haute cuisine it is!" Jamie dug into the toast and folded eggs first. Halfway through chewing, she glanced up curiously. "Where are mom and dad?"
Sam took the seat across her and dropped most of the bacon on his own plate. Jamie was more of a sausage person, anyway. "Out with friends. Uncle Jack and the rest, y'know. Your Jamie-is-visiting dinner's not till next Saturday."
"Oh, right," Jamie nodded, then gave him a peculiar look. "What are you smiling about?"
He hadn't even noticed that he was grinning again. "Well," Sam began, failing to restrain his glee, "this afternoon I took the Camaro to a party at the lake with Miles—"
"Miles!" she interrupted. "How is he?"
"He's fine," was his grumbling answer. He missed the days Jamie and Miles thought of each other as total weirdos—ever since the three of them tried this stupid parkour course back when Jamie was a high school senior, they'd actually started to tolerate each other. (That and because they both found it funny that he'd sucked. Not cool.) "Same weird stuff. Anyway...Mikaela was there. She's this really gorgeous girl from school, you know, dates jocks usually, but they had a fight about his car and I offered to bring her home. Then the Camaro freaked out, but then it worked! I got to drive her home tonight."
"The Camaro freaked out?" repeated Jamie. "I thought it rode like new?"
"Guess not," Sam said impatiently. Jamie paid attention to the most insignificant details sometimes. "The radio kept freaking out. Engine even got busted, but Mikaela said it had nice headers."
"...What does that even mean?"
Sam shrugged. Admittedly, he had another thing on his mind when recalling that particular memory.
The plate clanged as Jamie set her fork down and chewed. "Wait a second. I thought you went with Miles?"
"Oh, yeah, but he, uh, left. So I could bring Mikaela home."
Jamie gave him a look he knew well. She knew Miles wouldn't leave her brother—especially since he was his ride to the lake and back. Supposedly. "Wow. Wow, Sam. Party foul."
"Okay, you need to stop being friends with my friends," Sam decided with a groan. "And really? That's your takeaway from this? We're talking about Mikaela Banes!"
"I know, I know, love of your life," Jamie muttered—or maybe spat was the better word. "But I know a thing or two about loves of your life. Don't get your hopes up."
"Nuh-uh, you can't use that. You never talked about it," Sam pointed out. Then he wanted to put his foot in his mouth as soon as he said it, because Jamie gave him this seriously wounded look—and she never got that look. If anyone could dish it out and take it, it was probably his crazy sister. Except when it came to this.
But he was right: she'd never talked about her break-up with Nathan, who'd been her boyfriend since early high school. Mom and dad were already talking about how they were probably going to end up together until Jamie called them up in the middle of freshman year college to declare that Nathan had cheated and it was over. Dad would have run the idiot off with a bat when he tried to come over and explain himself to their parents in Jamie's absence if Sam hadn't just asked him to leave. Tactful as mom was, she'd pried and pressed, but his sister was like a brick wall. Even he'd never mentioned it till now.
Sam coughed. "Uh, sorry."
"It's fine," Jamie grinned, anything that resembled regret gone from her face. "So, this Mikaela—is she getting back with her douche boyfriend?"
"I don't know," muttered Sam. "I mean, she said—"
He gave her the details of their conversation—even the more than meets the eye thing, which she'd never let him live down. Why was he such a good younger brother? She used to tell him stuff like this about Nathan, so he figured it made up for his slip-up earlier. Before she could fully take advantage of it, though, a car honked outside.
"Uh-oh. That's them. Lemme just use the bathroom." Jamie ran off, and Sam was left to wonder how anyone could jump in such high heels. Seconds and heels noisily clacking on dad's path later, someone rang the doorbell. He figured it was a track thing as he went to answer the door.
It was Lucy, one of Jamie's old teammates from high school. She was older than his sister by a few years, so she was already working back at South Gate. "Hi, Sam!" she greeted loudly, her thick blonde hair bouncing behind her ponytail as she hugged him. "We hear another Witwicky is in town!"
He smiled, patting her on the back. "Hey, Luce. Yeah, she'd need a ride to get anywhere, though."
"Lucky for her we've got one right here!" Lucy laughed, waving her arms wildly before pointing to a car filled with three more girls across the yard. "Hey, Jamie! Get out here!"
Jamie appeared next to Sam with a roll of her eyes. "Have a little pre-party fun, Luce?"
"I'm still sober," Lucy insisted, "just excited! Come on!"
"All right, all right!" Jamie let her friend tug her toward the door. "And really, Sam? You can barely talk to Mikaela but you can talk to my old track friends? They're hot, too."
"Yeah, I know..." Sam tilted his head side to side to gauge his own words. "In their time."
"I heard that!" Lucy snapped.
"Sorry, Luce. Besides, you're like my sister," Sam called after them.
Jamie gave a playful eyeroll. "I'm getting out of here before you say something you regret."
"Good idea. I'll see you tomorrow morning, I guess," Sam teased. "Or afternoon?"
"Who knows with Jamie!" Lucy cheered.
"Hey, hey! I'm not that girl anymore," Jamie protested, but her cries fell on deaf ears as Lucy dragged her into the car with their old friends.
Sam waved goodbye in amusement. His sister probably wouldn't get back till morning, if she was still as crazy now as she was in high school. Though Jamie insisted she was more disciplined these days, especially with more rigorous track and field training, Sam didn't entirely buy it. He was pretty sure he was the only real sane person in his family. Then Mojo.
At least, until he witnessed his car standing up hours later.