Yeah, I've got an OC. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just… I cannot, in any sense of character honesty, see Sam or Mikaela or Miles or any of the others doing what she does. Not to say that this is entirely about her, oh no! She just… well, she fits. And I needed somebody for the role.
Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves. ~Abraham Lincoln
He met her on the shuttle.
"So. What you in for?" Sam asked, attempting to toss the joke flippantly, even though he could hear his own voice shaking. "And didn't they have us separated by sex?" he asked, blinking as he noticed that the 'young man' he'd been talking had, um, curves.
"I thought I'd take a walk," she said, shrugging as she turned to look at him. "And I guess the robots aren't as bright as they think," she added with a forced lightness. "Shapeless clothing, short hair, and purely male company? I don't think they were really looking."
Sam nodded, though he was still a little lost. Giant robots couldn't tell the difference between the sexes? Weird.
"You?" she asked.
"Uh," Sam said, "I was looking for Mojo."
"Mojo?"
"Um." Sam could feel a light flush crawl up his cheeks. "My dog."
"You managed to keep your dog?" the girl asked, surprised. "I thought the regulations said nothing non-essential could be brought to the bases."
Sam shrugged, and gave a rueful laugh. "Yeah, try telling my mom that the family Chihuahua is unnecessary. She considers that thing to be her second baby."
A suppressed (and slightly hysterical) giggle escaped Sam's companion, and it dawned on Sam in that moment that he didn't know whom he was sitting next to.
"Sam Witwicky," he said, bumping her shoulder. He got a chortle and a shoulder bump in return.
"Anya Reynolds."
"I would say nice to meet you, but…" Sam trailed off.
"It's kind of hard to be pleased about much when you've been kidnapped by giant alien robots," Anya said, nodding. They shook hands anyways, and offered each other grim smiles as they settled in.
"So do you think there will be in-flight peanuts?" Anya asked after several minutes, loud enough to be heard by the majority of the people held with them. Some stared at her in confusion or shock, but several laughed (though there was a slightly desperate tinge to it).
"Are you kidding? You know what airline food service is like," Sam quipped back, a ricture of a smile on his face. There was a similar grim expression on Anya's, even as she quirked a corner of her mouth in a smile.
"You're right," she said. "Even if we do get something, it probably won't be any good."
The two fell silent after that, along with their 'companions', as the dark double edge of that statement sunk in.
"This sucks," Sam said after several long moments.
"You're telling me," Anya agreed, slouching against the bulkhead. Silence fell again, and moments later Anya would swear that she'd heard Sam mutter something about a 'Mikaela.'
"Girlfriend?" Anya asked quietly. Sam jolted next to her, and moved his shoulders in embarrassment.
"Um. No. Not my girlfriend, not really, she's just a girl, y'know? Just a girl that I – " Sam babbled.
"Sam. You're babbling."
"Oh." Sam clamped his mouth shut. "Uh, sorry."
"So not your girlfriend, but you wish she was?" Anya's voice was sly, and faintly teasing.
"What! No, I mean, um, y'know she – yeah, I guess so, but – no, that's not what I meant, I just hope she's safe, that's all!"
"Sam. I am sitting next to you, in the dark, in the underbelly of an alien robot slaver ship, heading to God knows where. And even I can tell you're ass over teakettle for this girl."
"Who says 'ass over teakettle' anymore?" Sam asked in reply, and after a moment, the two dissolved into hysteric-tinged laughter.