Tales of Mojo 'Superdog'
Chapter 7
Sam and Bumblebee's new residence at the Witwicky's place...
"Sam."
Sam Witwicky groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Uh."
"Sam?"
"... go 'way, Bee, no school today... sleep-in..."
The yellow robot carefully propped both hands on the railing of Sam's sleeping loft, his blue optics staring down at Sam's rumpled and sweaty sleeping body on the bed. They had a meeting with Optimus Prime and the others at the Lookout, by 8am. Sam had to get up. Bumblebee had already packed away his recharge bed and finished his morning energon. He was ready to go. Sam wasn't.
The pair of them had been living inside the special garage Sam's parents had built for them for several months now. All was going well. Judy was especially pleased by Bumblebee's propensity to simply grab her young son out of his bed and lift him slowly down to the loft floor when he slept through his alarm clock on school mornings. There was no way Sam could get away with sleeping-in past getting up time when there was a big hand hovering over his head waiting to grab his lazy ass. Bumblebee stood over his charge while he ate a hurried breakfast (Sam didn't often eat breakfast on school days, but now that Bumblebee was in charge, he had muesli with fruit – a disgusting concoction meant for constipated old people, Sam complained), then pushed him into the shower, gathered up his school satchel and waited in the driveway with the passengers' side door open and engine rumbling away. Ready to go.
The first morning Bee had performed his new duties, a worried and scared Judy had stuck her head out of the kitchen window, peering with horror at Sam and Bumblebee's little house. Sam was screaming blue murder about something... Then she'd laughed at the robot pushing her grumpy son along with one finger in his back, out the garage door, the robot transforming, and Sam getting into the car with a few sour swear words about "over-anxious, paranoid, anal robots" worried about humans being late for school. Judy was very pleased she had lost her position as Sam's tormentor in the mornings.
Bumblebee took his responsibilities as Sam's guardian very seriously.
"Sam, Optimus does not like his soldiers being late for meetings. He disapproves."
Sam rolled over away from Bumblebee, muttering, "...not a soldier, Bee... and it's Saturday."
Bumblebee stood back. Thinking. "We must go now or we will be late. If you wish to appear in front of the legendary Optimus Prime in your underwear, so be it." He reached out a hand and carefully plucked his friend out of bed.
"NO! No, no, no, no! Wait! I'm up! Put me down!" Sam yelled, wriggling in Bumblebee's careful grip. Bee's hands were cold against his skin and he only had his boxers on.
Bumblebee shook his head, opening the garage door with a digital signal and carrying his objecting charge outside in cupped hands. "We must leave NOW, Sam. I'm sure Optimus would rather see you in your Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles underwear than seeing you turning up late."
"I'll change! I'LL CHANGE!" Sam screamed.
"You will?" Bumblebee cocked his head. "Okay then." He put Sam down. "You have 2.3 minutes to put jeans and a shirt on. Run."
"Running!" Sam tore off back into the garage with stumbling arms and flailing arms.
Kneeling in her rose garden, Judy wiped her hands and looked up, smiling. "Bumblebee dear, it's only ten minutes past seven. You'll have plenty of time to get to the meeting."
"Good morning Mrs Witwicky," Bumblebee turned to face her, his optics twinkling. "Yes, I understand that. Sam dropped his dirty washing on me last week. He threw it over the railing thinking I was not underneath. I do not approve of being covered in dirty, smelly, week-old socks and underwear. Making him arise early this morning is my payback."
Judy blinked. "Good Lord, Bumblebee, you're very clever you know." She grinned in approval. She'd stopped trying to get Bumblebee to call her Judy. Bumblebee's manners were just too good. He could not call her 'Judy' or 'Mom'.
"Thank you." Bumblebee nodded.
Sam came running out of the garage, jeans on and sneakers on his feet, panting and struggling to pull a tight t-shirt over his head. "Ready!"
Bumblebee looked down at the sweaty boy, "You have taken 3.6 minutes instead of the 2.3 I allowed you to have." The Camaro's face looked stern. Sam cringed, trying to brush the creases out of his un-ironed shirt. Then Bumblebee's faceplates moved into a gleeful expression, "But since we are still early for the meeting, we can go drive-thru for breakfast."
"We're early?!" Sam cried, "but I thought we were running late!"
"No, we would have been late if you have continued to sleep in. Now we are early," Bumblebee corrected the boy happily. Sam made a face at him, poking out his tongue. Bumblebee the sadist.
"Have a nice day, boys. And don't forget Mojo, Ratchet made me promise you'd take him to the meeting." She looked fondly at her son, "Morning, sweetie."
"Morning Mom, oh yeah, Mojo!" Sam swivelled around. "Mojo! Here boy! C'mon Mo, meeting time!"
"BARK! Ruff, ruff!" The Chihuahua came bounding down the verandah steps at them as Bumblebee transformed and started his engine. The Camaro's door popped open and Mojo jumped into the driver's seat – his preferred position. Sam got the passenger side.
"Bye Mom!" Sam waved as the group took off down the driveway, bound for the Lookout (after a pit stop drive-thru McDonalds breakfast, Mojo loved hash browns).
At the Lookout...
"Ironhide, I do not approve of you dropping Sam into a mass of deep water. He could have drowned." Optimus had crossed his arms over his chest and was staring moodily at his Weapons Specialist.
Ironhide shrugged, taking a seat on the rocky ground and looking at the view. "It wasn't deep and the boy can swim. In any case, Ratchet was there to help if he stopped breathing."
"Ironhide!"
"What?" Ironhide looked up at him, unconcerned, "Don't get your antennae in a twist, boss. It's all okay. Organics swim better than we do."
Optimus muttered to himself, putting his fists on his hips, displeased. Well, he supposed Sam should not have tossed the object at Ironhide. Everyone knew that. Sparklings knew it, Elders knew it, aliens from other planets knew it. And now so did Sam. He looked up at the sound of familiar car engines. Ratchet's Rescue Hummer form was barrelling down the dirt road. Coming up behind him was Bumblebee. Optimus could just make out the tiny head of Mojo hanging out Bee's driver side window, the dogs ears were flapping in the wind, his mouth stretched in a super wide grin.
"Slag it. They brought the rodent." Ironhide grumbled, looking over his shoulder.
Ratchet pulled up in a cloud of dirt, transforming. Bumblebee parked next to him and waited while Sam picked up Mojo and clambered out of the car. Sam put Mojo on the ground and carefully clipped a long pink leash to Mojo's collar.
Standing up in his robot form, the medic looked down happily at his human and dog friends. "Hello Sam, Morning Mojo." Ratchet paused, his optics narrowing on the leash in Sam's hands. "Is that a new leash?" he asked uncertainly.
Sam shuffled his feet, not looking up. He knew what Ratchet was worried about. "Yeah. It is."
Ratchet frowned. "Mojo is a male dog, correct?"
"Yup."
"From my understanding of your culture, the male species does not associate itself with the color pink."
Sam nodded, "Got that right."
Ratchet went down on one knee, holding out a hand to the tiny dog. Mojo ruffed at him, holding up his head for a pat. Optimus wandered over, greeting Sam and Bumblebee.
Ratchet stroked the dog thoughtfully, "So why is Mojo's leash bright pink?"
"Because Mom reckons dogs are colour-blind?" Sam said, embarrassed. "No, seriously, Mom chose the leash, and she loves pink. So pink it is."
"Oh dear. Nevermind, you have my sympathy little Mojo," Ratchet told the dog sadly, Mojo's head bouncing softly with the force of Ratchet's patting.
Optimus Prime looked down at Ironhide, "I am so glad none of us scanned a pink vehicle."
Ironhide barked a laugh. "You're telling me. Those flames of yours look pink in fading sunlight."
Optimus winced. "Oh."
Sam looked up at the huge Autobot Leader, "Mikaela sends her apologies, she had to visit her Aunt this morning. She's got a bad cold."
"Really?" Ratchet perked up, getting to his feet. "Perhaps I can be of assistance?"
Sam laughed, "Don't be so eager, Ratch, you'd give her Aunt a heart attack, she's pretty old you know."
"I would not, I have had very thorough medical training," Ratchet replied, his dignity ruffled.
"He means from the aspect of seeing a giant alien robot for the first time, lughead," Ironhide snickered, getting up from the ground and slapping his friend on the shoulder.
Ratchet winced, "Oh yes. There is that."
Optimus tapped one of his oversized feet on the ground, "May we begin our meeting now?"
A chorus of grunts and 'yeah's answered him. Optimus nodded.
Mojo wasn't enjoying this. The ride in the car had been fun, but sitting around while a lot of talking went on wasn't fun at all. He needed something to do. His ears perked up at a rabbit hopping around some bushes not too far away. Mojo pulled at his leash. Sam had his foot casually planted on the end of it while he gestured with his hands. Perhaps if he pulled hard enough... he was free!
"BARKBARKBARK!" Mojo scampered at top speed towards the rabbit.
"Huh?" Sam looked around. "MOJO!"
The dog was running right at something rustling in the bushes – and the bushes were right on the edge of the cliff. He'd fall over it. "SOMEONE GRAB HIM!" Sam screeched.
"On it!" Ironhide took long ground-shaking steps at the rodent. Mojo was almost at the bushes. His hands reached out – and the rabbit darted between his legs, Mojo changed direction mid-stride and followed it. "Wha..?" Ironhide looked down at the two animals underneath him, tripped, and crashed on his face.
"Slag it, Ironhide!" Ratchet cursed, not giving into the temptation to stand and laugh at Ironhide with his aft in the air, instead throwing himself with heavy steps after Mojo. "Mojo, stop!"
"Keep him away from the cliff!" Sam shouted, running along behind. He didn't have a hope of keeping up with the rabbit, Mojo, or the robots, but he tried anyway.
The rabbit was making wild squealing sounds and trying to keep in front of the dog. Mojo was very determined. The rabbit feinted left. Mojo went left. Ratchet went left, his hands stretched out.
...then the rabbit darted right.
"PRIMUS!" Ratchet stumbled, trying not to tread on the dog as Mojo went under his raised foot. He went down, crashing onto his side with a grunt and a mess of arms and legs.
Optimus put one hand over his optics, shaking his head with a groan. Two of his top soldiers brought down by a dog and a rabbit. Perhaps they could enlist the organic animals against the Decepticons?
Ironhide had gotten to his feet, re-stabilised his balance equalizers, and was off after Mojo again. Sam had to stop and gasp for air, wheezing laughter. The sight of Ironhide running was too much. The big black mech had a running motion like he had something painful stuck up his ass. Elbows up in the air, knees out wide, shoulders hunched. Holy God, he was funny.
Mojo ran past Optimus, barking crazily. Now this was more fun than talking!
Ironhide jogged past Optimus, air hissing in and out of his vents, "Let me shoot it, just one shot, no more rabbit, no more problem."
"No, Ironhide," Optimus sighed patiently.
Ratchet ran past, following Ironhide, Mojo and the rabbit. "Don't you dare shoot it, 'Hide!" the medic was yelling.
"What?! You can put it back together! You're a medic!"
"I can't put black soot back together, bit-brain!"
Bumblebee had been watching the action. He'd figured it out. The elder Autobots were all unplanned action and crazy yelling. There was no need for that. If he could just get in the right position... he crouched, waiting.
The rabbit ran in front of him, and did another right turn, Mojo on its tail. Bumblebee dove, twisting. The rabbit screamed, Mojo yelped, Ratchet yelled, Sam gasped, Optimus put his head in his hands again. Ironhide pulled up in a sliding stop behind the mess.
Bumblebee was on the ground on his back, the squealing rabbit in one hand, Mojo in the other and Ratchet in his lap – face down. The medic spluttered, planting his hands wide and lifting himself from being in Bumblebee's crotch plating.
"You could've warned me, youngling," Ratchet growled. This was twice his dignity had been dented, and it was still early morning.
"You're welcome," Bumblebee retorted, his faceplates stretched into a grin.
"MO! Bad dog! Naughty! No rabbit for you!" Sam carefully removed Mojo from Bumblebee's grasp. "Bee, can you put the rabbit in the woods somewhere? Where Mojo can't see it? And make sure it's okay and everything. Maybe we hurt it."
"Yes, Sam. No problem."
Bumblebee gingerly held onto the shrieking, ungrateful rabbit while a worried Ratchet scanned it for injuries. The medic straightened up and pronounced it to be in perfect health. Ironhide picked grass out of his cannons.
"Thank Primus for that, or we'd have another useless animal in the medbay for safe keeping," Ironhide grouched, watching Bumblebee carry the rabbit into the woods.
"We've got a resident useless animal, Ironhide." Ratchet responded. "You."
"Hey!"
"Oh shut up. And wipe the mud off your aft."
Optimus Prime rubbed at his optics tiredly. "Meeting over, I think. That's enough for one day. More than enough."
