Little Boy Blue
Movieverse - Mikaela, Sam, Simmons, OCs

"God, he is such an unbelievable ass." Fuming, Mikaela slumped back in her chair, giving the coffee table a sharp, angry kick. Sam had no problems imagining her picking up the small coffee table she was abusing so ferociously and then throwing it at Simmons' head. Through the wall. Right into the president's own secret office in the secret building they weren't having a secret meeting about giant robots from space that definitely weren't on Earth. The two agents on either side of the office door in which Simmons and the president has disappeared in offered no reaction at all, tempting Sam to wander up to them and wave to see if they were real or not.

Instead, he kneeled by his girlfriend's chair and rested his head on her shoulder, giving her a soulful, pleading look.

"What?" The glare was still ferocious, but as he suspected, the googly look of doom was having its effect.

"If I do the extra cute puppy dog eyes, would you throw something bigger than the coffee table at him, dear?"

The question earned Sam an almost smile, Mikaela's mood clearly lightening up somewhat. Judging from the way she was kicking the table while no longer hanging on to the arms of her chair quite as determinedly as before, he figured Simmons might survive their next meeting. And then wondered iwhy/i he'd done anything to help out Simmons at all, yet again. He really had to stop doing that, it wasn't as though he liked the man at all himself.

"Hey kids. What's raining on your parade?" The mellow voice caused both teens to look up, expressions going from angry to cautiously questioning. "Wow, you can relax, you two. Honest. I promise not to bite!" The woman smiling down at them seemed unremarkable enough, pretty in a "girl next door" sort of way. It took Sam a moment to remember why she looked so familiar and he rose to his feet, offering Mikaela a hand up by reflex. He'd seen her before with the president, a few times, though he'd never thought to ask who she was.

"Simmons is a jerk." Mikaela looked mildly horrified at Sam's candid reply, going so far as to swat him on the shoulder before offering the woman an embarrassed smile.

"Well, not really. I mean, it's just that..." she sighed, she slumped her shoulders. "God, he is SUCH a jerk!" And then, Mikaela kicked the coffee table again.

"Careful there. Table might kick back." Smiling in amusement at the sheepish expression this netted her, the woman sat down in front of them and waved a hand idly for both of them to do the same, somehow still managing to seem taller than them somehow. While they were still standing. (Which was no mean feat, Sam figured, because she was about as tall as his mom from what he'd been able to tell while still kneeling next to Mikaela 's chair. Then again, that explained his own gut "smarten up and salute, soldier" reflex. His mom had him well trained. Arg. It was so not fair.)

Sam sat down. And then tugged at Mikaela's arm until she sat down too, ignoring how she rolled her eyes at him. (She couldn't possibly know his mother had him so well trained. Totally impossible. Damn it.)

"So. You think he's a jerk, huh?"

"Yes! It's like, what, someone pissed in his cereal or something? What'd we do to him anyway?"

"Uh." Sam gave Mikaela a sidelong look. Maybe using the pissing analogy really wasn't the best idea, since technically speaking, that gave Simmons a perfectly good and valid reason to be a jerk. Mikaela blinked, then looked a touch embarrassed. Sam - now well practiced in the art of talking about giant robots from space while not actually talking - grinned slightly and looked back at the woman in front of them, who looked entirely unconcerned about the silent exchange and was just watching them. She was his mom and read minds. Sam knew it, right then and there. They were so dead.

"You know, maybe Reggie just spent his whole life waiting - and hoping - that one day, the robots from outer space he'd been waiting for all his life would drop down for a visit. You ever think of that, kiddo?"

Staring, Sam shook his head slowly. "Um. Uh, no." He could practically feel Mikaela staring in surprise next to him. Her hand, right at the edge of his vision, twitched slightly. The woman continued, leaning forward just a touch intently.

"And instead of getting to make friends with the robots from outer space, he sees this scrawny kid show up out of nowhere and steal 'em away from him." She raised an eyebrow at them both, shrugging one shoulder slightly. "And then everything goes to shit and he gets turned into the bad guy, instead. Because he has to do his job. Even if he he's a jerk about how he's doing it."

"I-" Sam paused, stunned. "I never thought of it that way actually. Huh."

"Bet you didn't." There was no censure in the woman's voice, only very cheerful acknowledgement.

"...he's still a jerk," Mikaela muttered, though it was obvious from her frown and - sudden and very reluctant - sheepishness that she was, just maybe, seeing things in a new light as well.

"He sure as hell is." Laughing outright at that, the woman stood, dusting off imaginary dust from her slacks. "I'll let you kids think about it a bit more. See you later, mmm?" She waved at them in a friendly, neutral sort of way over her shoulder and headed for the same door Simmons had used, the cheerful greetings from within making it clear she was expected. ("There you are! Wonderful, let's get started shall we?" "Oh god, not you again. Devil woman, leave me alone!" Sam had no problems identifying which was from the president and which was from Simmons. He maybe even snickered a bit at the one from Simmons as the door closed. A teensy bit. Sometimes, Simmons could maybe be just a bit funny. Sorta.)

"Um, excuse me? Mr Secret Agent Guy?" Sam was now on a mission. And he'd get the information he wanted, even if he had to talk to the big scary agent types on either side of the door.

The security agent paused for a moment, and then tilted his head down, looking over the edge of his very secret agent guy sunglasses. Lips quirking and bright green eyes dancing in amusement, he quirked an eyebrow at the teenager. The man standing next to him shook his head slightly and unscrewed the cap off a water bottle which had been concealed somewhere on his person (maybe a secret water bottle hostler, thought Sam! He wanted one of those. It'd have been nice to have some water while being chased down by Megatron. Not that he'd had time to drink, but still!)

"Gary."

"Huh?"

"My name, kid. Gary. It's cooler than Mr Secret Agent Guy, too."

His partner snorted at that, nearly inhaling water down the wrong pipe, and shot Gary a reproachful look.

"You bastard, you timed that on purpose to try and get me to snort water up my nose. Again."

"Everyone needs a hobby, bud," was the unrepentant reply, both agents clearly enjoying the teens dumbstruck expressions at their sudden genial show of personality. "So, kid. You wanted something?"

"Yeah." Still staring, Sam leaned forward a bit, then started and took a few steps back as he realized his inspection of the man's eyes (wow, they have eyes behind those sunglasses?) could be viewed as being a bit too close to the man by some. Not that he was being negative about anyone wanting to be close to the guy, just, well, he didn't want to. Really. Because the man could bend him in a pretzel in a heartbeat, which would be really uncomfortable and probably end up with Mikaela throwing the coffee table at the secret agent man and then all sorts of bad things would happen. So.

"Um. Yeah, right. So, who was that woman? The one with the president?"

"You mean the smart one?"

Mikaela 's startled laugh drew a confused look for Sam, which only served to amuse her further, even as she gave Gary a suddenly strongly approving look. Sam was not jealous of the handsome, built like a refrigerator agent. Really. Said agent grinned in return, before offering Sam a wink.

"She's the president's speech writer, kid." He leaned back in his usual (super secret agent man) pose, expression falling back into the same previous remote solemnity as before as Sam turned to look at the backs of the departing president and speech writer..

"Speech writer, huh?"

"Yep. Smart woman, too."

"Yeah..." The absent reply was followed by a slow grin. "I wanna grow up to be just like her one day," Sam said, with utter certainty, turning back to give Mikaela an enthusiastic look.

Mikaela 's expression of warm approval was all for him, this time, and Sam smiled back in cheerful, goofy delight.

"Oh! Hey, Gary!" The agent tilted his head at him slightly. "My name's Sam. It's cooler than, you know, kid."

In the laughter that followed, Simmons stuck his head out of the office, scowling.

"Oi, knock it off already! Jesus, kids these days," he was heard muttering as the door closed.

Sam and Mikaela only laughed harder at the bemused expressions on the agents' faces at being lumped together with them that way.

I'm not sure where this came from, but I know I always felt sorry for Simmons. Can you imagine, all your life you know that there's something else. You have tangible, present proof of it. And maybe, just maybe in your wildest dreams you figure one day, you'll see more, be part of more. And then boom, it gets snatched away and you end up running after it (and being a jerk, because well, you are.)

Yeaah.