TITLE: The Class of 2008
SERIES: Imperfection Deviation
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):
English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are...
FEEDBACK: Loved
BETA: okamimyrrhibis
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Sam Witwicky, engineer, technopath, holding two doctorates, first contact to an alien race called Autobots, hero of the hour of Mission City – and that had been over a decade ago – stared at the innocent letter with a horrified expression.
High school reunion.
Gawd…
Sam had been kind of glad to leave that part of his life behind him. High school had been a phase of his life where he hadn't belonged anywhere. Not a jock; definitely not a jock. Not a true geek either. He had been somewhere in the middle, never part of anything, and the best thing that had happened in all that time had been the alien car scaring the shit out of him. Followed by a maniacal evil mech trying to kill him, after another evil robot had almost squished him.
Amusement flooded through him, but not his own.
:Listening in again?: he grumbled at Bumblebee.
:You think very loudly: was the teasing reply. :And you're not blocking, Sam:
He sighed. Great. Now such a measly little thing as a letter about a get-together with his old 'peers' had him drop his shields.
But really… he wasn't a reunion type and even if he and Mikaela were still together, he doubted he would go.
Speaking of which… she would probably call and ask him if he went, and then he had to lie, which he was really, really bad at when it came to such things.
:Go: Bumblebee suggested. :It's been ten years, Sam. Things have changed:
Huh. Yeah. So not true. He was even more of a geek and outsider now. Sam could hardly tell anyone what had happened in the past decade because, hey, top secret, need-to-know-basis, national security and all that. People would call him all kinds of things if he started to talk about alien robots and mysterious cubes, let alone technological telepathy.
:I'll come along: Bumblebee offered.
He smiled a little. :Appreciated: he sent back.
And it was. At least he wasn't completely alone then, though he wasn't going. No way. No way in Hell..
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The decision was more or less taken out of his hands when Lieutenant Trent DeMarco walked into the kitchen area of the Autobot base, shooting Sam a grin.
"Oh no," Sam groaned. "I forgot about you."
Trent leaned against the counter, mug of coffee in hand, the grin growing into 'shit-eating'. "You got the letter."
It sounded like some ominous top secret letter.
"Yes. Not going," Sam replied immediately and poured milk into his coffee.
"You so are. Even if I have to drag you along."
And Trent would.
"Not going," Sam insisted.
"What's so bad about it?" the logistician wanted to know.
Sam glared at him. "Sayeth the jock. You know how bad high school was for me. You taunted me enough, so you should remember."
Trent frowned a little. "And that's why you're not going? Because of a bully or two? Sam, I give you my holy oath I won't so much as look at you wrong."
"That's not it."
Sam ran a hand through his hair. He knew he had changed from the geeky non-jock into the little-less-geeky, semi-Army trained technopath. Most of that was top secret, so no one would know. At least he looked a bit more athletic. He had put on muscle. But compared to Trent's all-American football looks, he was still a nobody.
Trent studied him with a frown. "Don't tell me you're self-conscious about your looks."
"No!"
"You are," DeMarco argued immediately. "Hell, you're as fit as any Army grunt."
"That's not it."
Trent rolled his eyes. "And you're successful. You have two doctorates. Hell, I envy you."
Sam blinked. "What? No, wait, that's really not what this is about. I just don't want to hang out with people who didn't give a shit about me and listen to their lives' stories."
Trent regarded him curiously. "You think I want that? As much as you think I would enjoy hanging out with my old buddies – which I haven't talked to in about as long as I've been with the Army – I'm not. But it'll be fun to see who amounted to what. You'll probably shock half of them."
"It's not like I can talk about much that I do."
"You think I can?"
Sam sighed deeply. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?"
"Nope." DeMarco grinned brightly. "And Mikaela will be there."
"How do you know?"
"I saw her name on the registry. Online." At Sam's still confused expression he added, "Look at the letter. There's a website for the online registry. Mikaela and Chris registered."
"Cool," the technopath finally said.
He was happy to hear that Mikaela would be there. And Chris. The last time he had seen her had been over a year ago.
The sun was out, the clouds drifted lazily across a brilliant blue sky, and the water breaking at the cliffs was a calming background noise. Seagulls screamed, people around him chattered and took pictures of the beautiful landscape, and Sam Witwicky truly enjoyed being out and about. A soft hum in the back of his mind echoed the emotions. :Your planet is beautiful: Bumblebee murmured. :So varied: Sam smiled. :No complaints about the salt water being bad for your paint job?: That got him a chuckle. :I'm not Ironhide: Not that the aggressive salt water could actually damage any of the mechs. For Ironhide it was just good-natured grumbling. Sam caught sight of someone approaching and he got up from where he had perched on Bumblebee's hood, smiling in genuine happiness. He was suddenly engulfed in a hug and he automatically hugged the young, slender woman back. "Whoa, hi!" he laughed. "What did I do to deserve that?" Mikaela Banes smiled brilliantly at him, almost radiating. "I'm just happy to see you again." "Oh-kay…" Sam said slowly. "Hi, Bumblebee. How are you?" "Hello, Mikaela," the Autobot replied pleasantly. "I'm fine, thank you." "It's been a while," Sam remarked. "I was busy," she answered, almost bouncing with unreleased energy. "I need to tell you something." Sam had never really seen her like this, so happy and alive and… like she was bursting to tell him something. "Is this the something you wouldn't want to mention in any of your emails?" he asked. She nodded. "And?" "I told you about Chris, right?" Sam chuckled. "In detail." Chris Speed was Mikaela's boyfriend, someone she had met throughout a car show where her father had worked, and they had taken an immediate liking toward each other. Mikaela hadn't really been looking for a relationship, she had told Sam one evening when they had talked over the phone, but it had happened. From friends to lovers, so to speak. For a while Sam had felt strangely like he was losing a really good friend. Mikaela had a boyfriend who knew nothing about the mechs among them, who had not been through what they had experienced, what had bonded them together. Of course he wasn't interested in Mikaela any more. Of course he was happy for her. Still, Chris had been a stranger and probably not very happy about his girl still talking to her ex – if he knew. Over the past two years the feelings had changed. Mikaela rarely gushed about him and they had never met. Still, she mentioned him now and then. Speed owned a car racing team and had money. Mikaela knew about cars and could handle herself in his world. "He proposed," she now said. Sam felt something inside of him constrict, then burst with shared joy. He hugged her. "Congratulations!" "And…" Mikaela added, grinning. "Soon there'll be a new addition." "You're…?" "Pregnant," she confirmed. Sam had to lean back on Bumblebee. "Geez! Wow… that's… wow!" She laughed, so very happy.
Hannah had been born six months later and Sam had visited the new mother and baby. Mikaela had been positively glowing and Chris had been one very proud father. Sam had never felt anything but shared happiness. He had his own life, his own relationships, and his own happiness.
Things were really good.
"Now, do I have to drag you there or are you coming voluntarily?" Trent asked.
"You know, I liked you better when I still hated you," Sam muttered.
Trent smirked. "I take that as a yes."
"All right, all right, I'll make an appearance."
"Don't forget to register for a room."
Sam muttered something under his breath, took his coffee, shot Trent a baleful look, and left.
Bumblebee still radiated amusement at Sam's prickly mood concerning a high school reunion, and Sam decided that a day in the lab would probably do him good.
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The reunion had been planned to happen in Las Vegas, which suited Sam and Trent, even Mikaela, who lived reasonably close. Everyone who stayed the night – which were all – had been booked in the Luxor or Excalibur because the hotels were interconnected. Sam felt really out of place, but he was glad to have Bumblebee with him, even if it wasn't in person. The Camaro was parked outside in the parking lot.
Sam had left early and spent some time touring along The Strip. He liked the feel of Las Vegas, though he could never imagine living here. It was nice to be just a tourist.
Around late afternoon he had drifted back to the hotel, taken another shower and dressed. Since he didn't want to look like he was going to a dance, he had decided on jeans to a black dinner jacket and a white shirt.
There was, of course, lots of food. A really huge buffet table where everyone could take whatever he wanted. Drinks consisted of wine, beer and soft drinks, but there had been an announcement that the bar would open after dinner was over. The dance floor held no great attraction for Sam and he lurked a little in the background, watching his former school peers.
Of course there were also the mandatory fun photos, recollections of the 'good old days', with successes and triumphs of the football and basketball team and the cheerleaders. The geeks had their corner, with great experiments and competition wins, and there was a teacher gallery. In an adjoining room was more old memorabilia and even a TV with a DVD player where old high school videos were shown. Sam had lingered there for a while, smiling a little wistfully at some stuff. Football matches, theaters and even the odd excursion or two. There had been laughter and hooting and comments from everyone.
Sam sighed as he looked around the room. This wasn't really his kind of gig. Give him Megatron rampaging through Mission City any day.
:You don't mean that: Bumblebee sent.
:Right now? I think I do:
Well, Megatron had nearly killed him, which wasn't something to look forward to on the worst day. Here, no one was out for blood, but the embarrassing high school time was still something he didn't want to remember.
Some of the guys had recognized him, had nodded their hellos. Some of the girls had smiled, most of them accompanied by what looked like a husband or fiancée. Marsha, a girl he had never really talked to in school, had handed out the badges and gushed at him, how great he looked and the like. She had also been part of the organizers of the reunion.
Teachers milled around. They might remember his name, but Sam wasn't really sure.
"Hey, buddy!"
The jovial voice had him look up. "Miles?"
"In the flesh! Man, haven't heard from you in ages!"
Hair still shoulder-length, a bit more sun-bleached than before, and looking like a computer
geek on vacation, Miles beamed at his old friend.
"It might be because you off and disappeared after our senior year," Sam pointed out.
Miles had the decency to look sheepish. "Oh yeah, that. But hey, reunion!"
He slung an arm over Sam's shoulders and gestured at the woman who had stood back throughout the greeting.
"Sam, meet my wife of five years, Lilly."
"Nice to meet you," Lilly said, shaking Sam's hand. "Miles always mentioned a Sam from school."
"Must be me. Nice to meet you, too. So, Miles, what are you up to?"
"This and that. I live in San Diego now. Met Lilly there, fell for her so hard it must have been a five on the Richter scale, and we married. Two kids," Miles added proudly.
"Oh god, you are multiplying," Sam laughed.
Miles gave him a friendly jab, grinning like the proud father he was. "What do you do?"
Sam shrugged. "Went to college, got my degree, work as a consultant now. Mechanical engineering."
Miles whistled. "Cool. Never thought you were such a tech head."
Another shrug. "Turned out it's really fascinating."
"You and Mikaela…?"
"Split. She married a guy named Chris Speed."
"Too bad."
"We're still friends."
They made some more small talk. Lilly was a secretary at a large pharmaceutical company and Miles had a desk job at a law firm. Sam couldn't really wrap his head around Miles doing any kind of serious work, but at least he hadn't said he was a lawyer now.
He and his wife made their way through the crowds and Sam just shook his head.
"Sam!"
The first real smile crossed his lips. "Mikaela!"
They hugged and he had to say she looked fantastic. It was what he said out loud, too.
"Thank you," she replied, laughing.
She really did. The dress looked amazing and there was no trace of pregnancy left. She hadn't gained an ounce.
"We left Hannah with Chris' parents," Mikaela explained. "How are you doing?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "How do you think?"
"Hey, it's a great party. You should enjoy it."
"I am."
Mikaela frowned. "Suuure… Is Bee around?"
"Outside. I could hardly bring him along."
Not that anyone even knew about alien life forms among them. Mikaela and Trent were the only ones here, and in a way it felt good. He wasn't so totally alone, at least with that knowledge.
"Where's Chris?"
"He got waylaid by Marsha. God. She's as obnoxious as I remember her. I think she quizzes every spouse. Oh, here he comes."
Mikaela waved at her husband and Chris looked almost relived. Chris Speed was still his handsome self, Sam noted absently. Tall, sun-tanned, athletic, and looking even better in his suit, though he had left off the tie.
"Marsha?" Mikaela teased.
"She's one insistent woman." Chris fumbled with the badge that had his name on it, as well as Mikaela's below. "I feel like I'm someone's groupie now."
The badges were stupid in that regard, Sam had to agree. Whoever had come up with the idea to put the spouse's name underneath had probably been a bit drunk at the time. His own badge had only his name, no one else's. He wondered what people would make of 'Bumblebee' scrawled on it.
That had him almost laugh out loud. Bumblebee radiated amusement.
Chris got them all something to drink, non-alcoholic, and they decided to sit down and have dinner at one of the quieter tables at the back. Sam found it rather relaxing to be around Chris and Mikaela. Despite the fact that Chris had no idea about the secrets they shared – but was very well aware of who Sam had been in Mikaela's life before he had come long – they talked rather freely.
Sam talked work, disguising the Autobots as 'colleagues', and Mikaela brought him up to speed on their family life, Chris' business and so on. It felt normal. Nice. Really good. Chris asked about 'Bee', who he didn't know as anyone other than Sam's partner. It had been weird when Chris had, while Sam had visited Mikaela and the baby, asked about 'Bee' and who he was. He must have overheard something and Sam had fumbled a little.
"Boyfriend?" Chris had simply asked.
Sam had found out he still knew how to blush like a teenager. But that misinterpreted information had led to their relationship changing. Chris had at least subconsciously seen Sam as a potential rival for Mikaela, even after the baby, and when he had heard Sam was in a relationship with a guy, he had changed his behavior.
Weird, Sam thought, even today. But at least it had smoothed some waves.
"You didn't bring him along?" Chris asked as he emptied his coke.
"He's enjoying Vegas," Sam replied vaguely.
:Am I?: Bumblebee laughed.
:You're spying, Bee:
:You're not blocking:
So much was true.
Chris didn't ask any further.
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Trent came over somewhere throughout the next hour, beer in hand, smiling amiably.
"Got rid of your fan club?" Sam asked, almost laughing.
"Hey, what can I say? Popular."
"And we keep wondering why," Mikaela dead-panned. Then she got up and hugged him. "So good to see you again, Trent."
He hugged her back, shook hands with Chris, who was now looking at his wife's first boy-friend and still didn't appear uncomfortable. Trent hadn't made a secret out of his brief high school involvement with Mikaela, but he had also made it clear that it was the past.
"These reunions serve to remind me how lucky I was to not end up like those guys," DeMarco commented as he sat down.
"You were one of those guys," Mikaela reminded him.
"And I got lucky."
Sam knew what those four words truly translated into. Trent had gotten lucky in many ways, mainly because he had joined the Army, had become a top-notch logistician, which had in turn put him on the radar of the right people, and in the end he had been recruited by Lennox to work for the Autobots. If someone had told Sam that his former high school pain would somehow end up as a really good and trusted friend, he would have laughed. But Trent was all that. He was a good friend, Sam trusted him, and his position with the Autobots was an important one.
"Brad's still a brat," Trent explained. "He got into his father's business and I think the old man is still not over that."
Brad Coolings's father Henry owned a small building company, Sam remembered. And Brad was one of those muscle guys whose brain usually kicked in too late. He had been good at football, bowling over who got into his way, but the rest of school had somehow passed him by.
The others weren't all that hot either. They had mundane jobs. For all their posturing in school they had not amounted to much. Office employees, two with occasional jobs, one who worked at a clothing company and emptied the trash bins. Trent and Sam had somehow been the exception, aside from about half the girls, who had either married well or gone off to college to become lawyers, business women or had opened their own little stores. Sam wasn't surprised to hear that Tina and Ellen had thrown their money together and opened a needlework shop in San Francisco. Those two had always been knitting or stitching something or other. Therese had married her high school sweetheart and they lived in Detroit where he worked for some car dealership or other.
Everything was just so… mundane, so normal, Sam mused as he sipped at his first beer of the night. His life had been so extraordinary after he had bought his 'car', but no one else had been affected. Normal people, normal lives.
Weird, he mused. Freaky.
Even Mikaela, her involvement aside, had become a normal mother and wife. Her husband worked his own business, he was successful, they planned to have another kid, move into their own little house…
:Do you miss this?: Bumblebee asked softly.
:I don't know. I never had it. How can I miss it?:
:You could be married now, work a normal job, have children:
Sam chuckled. :I have a normal job, Bee. I work as an engineer. As for family… you are. All of you. Even Will. We're not married, but I see us as bonded.: He almost blushed. :Well, not that way. Not like you're used to:
Bumblebee seemed closer now, like standing next to him. He had had the feeling before and it always warmed him in a way.
:What we share is something of both our backgrounds mixed together:
Yes. So much was true. He didn't confuse Bumblebee with a human being and the mech had never viewed him as one of his kind either. Their relationship was beyond what another human could understand, unless the human in question was called Will Lennox.
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Mikaela more or less threatened him into two dances, much to Trent's amusement, but then he had to dance with her as well.
Some of Trent's old buddies came over, shooting Sam almost suspicious looks that turned slightly freaky when Trent declared Sam and he were working together. Since Trent had made no secret of his Army career, it left the impression that Sam was a soldier, too.
"Hey, in a way you are," Trent remarked as they watched Mikaela and Chris dance.
"Am not."
It got him a snort. "Right."
Sam only glared, but it had felt good to see their stupid faces when Trent had made that remark to his old buddies.
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The evening wore on a lot more pleasantly than Sam had thought it might and while the intoxication level at one table rose with the hours, there were no incidents. The dance floor was still crowded and Mikaela harassed him into one last dance. Chris had only chuckled. Trent entertained two former cheerleaders, who had also swooned over the former football star in the past. Both were married with children now. It didn't stop them from giving him appreciative looks. That he was an Army lieutenant had its pull, too.
"Wait till I tell them you're a double-doctor, Witwicky," Trent muttered at Sam's grin.
"Don't you dare!"
"Watch me…"
He didn't tell, for which Sam was grateful. He had avoided mentioning his degrees whenever conversation drifted to jobs, and only said he was an engineer and worked for the government. Even the latter he only mentioned reluctantly.
He couldn't keep the former jocks from approaching him, though. At least two. He could hardly remember their names; Toby, Tom, something and a guy named Jeff or John or Jim.
"Hey, Witwicky," the taller one, probably a Tom, Sam mused, said casually. "Trent's been telling us you and he are working together. So you're Army now, huh? Never figured."
Sam gave a mental sigh. "No, I'm not Army."
"But Trent is."
"Yes."
"So what do you do now?" the second one wanted to know.
"I consult," Sam answered vaguely, holding on to his luke-warm coke.
"For the Army?" Tom-something-or-other seemed impressed.
"Kinda."
"As what?"
Man, they didn't give up.
"I'm an engineer," Sam shrugged.
"Cool. Never figured you as one. So what kind of engineer?"
"Mechanical engineering."
And Biomedical, Industrial and Human Factors Engineering, he added silently. His second doctorate. It was a wide area and it challenged his technopathic mind, but it was fun. Sam could absorb himself in those areas for hours, especially when it involved Cybertronian tech.
"Taylor!" a voice called and Taylor-formerly-thought-to-be-Tom turned, smiling as a woman in her late twenties approached. She had a name tag. It said 'Billie'. "Oh, hey, Sam," she greeted Sam. "Saw you around. How are you?"
"Fine."
"He's an engineer," Taylor pointed out.
"Oh, that sounds interesting."
Billie…. Right! Cheerleader Billie Roberts. She had never even given him the time of day back then.
Taylor wrapped an arm around her, making it clear they were involved. "Well, see you around, Witwicky."
He and Billie and probably-not-Jeff walked off.
Sam sighed with relief, left the now too warm coke on a table, and walked back to the table where Trent sat, talking with a girl he recalled from their senior class. Becky, Sam reminded himself. Not to disturb them, he walked past the table and left the room, heading for the men's room.
In the end he migrated to a small area where some of his former class mates were gambling at a row of eight one-armed bandits, watched for a while, and finally went back. His shields were holding fine and he felt no compulsion to slide along wiring into complex security networks or explore the multitude of technological devices and machines everywhere. Still, he was tired. And slightly headachy.
Trent only shot him a knowing look when he returned and pushed a bowl of something chocolaty his way.
"Bad?" he only asked, voice low.
"Nah. I'm fine."
Trent knew about his abilities and he had learned, like all others, to keep an eye on Sam, carry high-caloric food, and if necessary get Sam somewhere he could gather his shields again.
"This is far from the complexities of the machines I usually work with," Sam explained. "I'm just tired."
Trent nodded, eyes drifting briefly through the room. "Just checking."
And it was appreciated. Very much so.
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Sam, Trent, Mikaela and Chris left the whole reunion party past midnight and drifted through the casino. They played at a poker table and lost some rounds, but not much money, then won a little at the machines. Chris and Mikaela went to their room in the Luxor around two, after they had all made a breakfast date for ten a.m.
Sam didn't feel all too tired and Trent was fidgeting a little, as if he was undecided what to do next.
"I think I'll go for a ride," he finally said.
:Arcee: Bumblebee supplied. :She gave Lieutenant DeMarco a ride:
Sam grinned to himself. Arcee had taken to Trent for some reason. Probably because he had a motorbike himself and loved driving fast. She had more in common with the rest of the unit than Trent, who wasn't the front-line-defense-fully-armed-and-god-help-who-disturbs-my-coffee-break kind of guy. He was trained, he knew the front end from the back end of a gun, but he rather battled suppliers than enemies in the field. Still, they had started a strange kind of friendship. Arcee waited for him in the evening, they went on drives, and she had even spent his week off at his place, watching and studying humans, as she claimed.
:She likes him: Bumblebee supplied helpfully.
:I figured as much:
:But it's not like us or Ironhide with Will:
Sam almost laughed. :Good to know: He really didn't figure Trent as pursuing a relationship with an alien life form. Then again, some girls he had dated in high school would have fit that category as well.
:Arcee has met many humans in her time on Earth, she told me. She was never able to interact with them.:
:So now she has chosen Trent?:
:Apparently. They get along quite well:
Sam walked out into the parking lot and wasn't very surprised to find Bumblebee and Arcee parked together. A bright green helmet lay on Arcee's seat and she ignited the engine, sounding almost impatient.
Sam raised an eyebrow at Trent, who only shrugged. He zipped his jacket shut and donned the helmet.
"See you at breakfast," he said in ways of a good-bye, then they were off into the night.
Sam chuckled and slid into the driver's seat.
"Where to?" Bumblebee asked out loud.
"Just drive. I have nothing planned."
He leaned back, hands on the wheel without actually being in control, and Bumblebee headed down the strip with the other cars, enjoying the lights. It wasn't as crowded this time of the night – or early morning – and soon they were past Freemont Street and heading toward Lake Mead.
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Bumblebee parked at a dark and silent overlook of Lake Mead. There had been no one at the park entrance and they had simply slid inside. Silent and dark, too.
Sam got out and hoisted himself up on the hood, leaning back against the windshield. He crossed his arms behind him and gazed into the sky. Bumblebee's presence in his mind was very close and he enjoyed them being this… intimate – without actually doing anything.
:Are you glad you came?" Bumblebee asked.
:In a way. It's different from what I expected. Mikaela and Trent helped:
:Why didn't you like school?:
:Oh, I liked school. I was just never popular. The girls were looking for muscle. Those who weren't, were looking for brain. I was neither. I was average. In everything. Until you guys arrived:
Bumblebee mulled that over. :But no one knows about us, about what you have done, what you are, who you have become. So you're still just average?:
:Kinda. After tonight I know everyone's just average. Whatever they were in school, they aren't today. Aside from one or two assholes who think they're god's gift to the world, that is: He laughed a little at that.
:You could have told them about your degrees: the mech suggested.
:And then what? That sounds like showing off because I'm desperate. I'm not. Look at Trent. He didn't brandish his career into anyone's face. And he can't talk about a lot either:
Bumblebee sent agreement.
:Where are they?: Sam wanted to know.
The mech chuckled. :According to Arcee, halfway to Mexico. In reality they're cruising around and will soon head back.:
"And so should we," Sam said out loud and got off the hood. "I've got a breakfast date tomorrow."
Bumblebee started the engine, but he let Sam drive back to Las Vegas and park the car in the hotel car park. Sam gave him a pat on the roof as he left the Camaro in the lot and walked back into the hotel. The casino was still busy and it was never really quiet or without customers. He smiled a little to himself as he waited in front of the elevators.
It had been a good night. Not perfect, but no reunion ever would be.
His room was silent and dark as he came in and he stripped quickly and crawled between the sheets, feeling more tired than he had really registered. Sam fell asleep within minutes and didn't wake until his alarm went off a few hours later.
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Sam couldn't hide the knowing smile as he watched Trent DeMarco shuffle over to the table and almost inhale his coffee in one go. The hot liquid had barely time to touch his nerves, it seemed.
"Late night?"
"Shut it, Witwicky," came the growl.
"Speed addict," Sam teased.
There was a glint in Trent's eyes that told Sam he had hit bull's eye. Arcee loved speed, just like Trent loved to drive fast. To drive fast on a bike had to be the ultimate kick for the other man.
"When did you get back?"
Trent smothered a yawn. "Three hours ago. I didn't believe her when she said we could go all the way to LA and back before dawn."
"Bet anything?"
Trent chuckled. "I'm not that stupid."
Mikaela and Chris arrived not five minutes later and Mikaela took one look at Trent and started her own teasing. Chris, who had no idea, was under the impression Trent had found a girl.
Breakfast consisted of a lot of coffee, pancakes, fruit, more coffee, eggs, cereal, additional coffee, and finally, coffee. People from the reunion drifted by, said their helloes, talked a little, then had their own breakfast.
Sam was pleasantly full and when he said good-bye to Mikaela and Chris he was a bit emotional. It had been good to see his friend, even some of the other former students.
"Come see us this summer," Chris offered.
"Sure. Will do."
And then it was only him and Trent, who was packed and ready to go.
"See you at the base," the other said jovially. "Arcee and I are taking the scenic route."
Sam grinned and waved him good-bye, then packed his own bag and stuffed it into Bumblebee's trunk.
"Ready?" the mech asked.
"Yeah. Ready. Let's go home."
The yellow Camaro pulled away from the parking lot and joined the traffic leading to the I-15.
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End of the interlude fic :) Hope you enjoyed it.