Author's Notes: This fic, as most of my fics tend to be lately, was written for LoverofSilverHairedBishies (aka Snarechan) as a Christmas present. It's my first fic for this fandom, so hopefully I did an okay job under the circumstances. This is set post-movie. I would also just like it to be known for the record that the movie is the only part of the Transformers franchise that I know anything at all about.
Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the word order.
The Little Things
It was a rare thing to see Optimus Prime in his driveway. Well, it was rare to see giant alien robots in general, but Sam decided that was a bit of a technicality.
Normally, when Optimus was at his house, it meant he needed to check in with Bumblebee personally. Sam didn't really get why they couldn't transmit the way they normally did; maybe the Decepticons could intercept their messages? Sometimes Sam suspected that they were just bored being off by themselves all the time. Either way, it was all Greek to him, and he didn't feel right about butting into their business, so he never asked.
So it was a bit of a surprise when the seemingly innocent – though heavily decorated – truck in his yard morphed into its true form.
"Hello, Sam," the Autobot greeted him.
"Er, hi there," Sam replied, glancing around nervously to see if any of the neighbors were looking.
"Hey, um, maybe it's a little dangerous for you to be all, y'know… y'know?" he asked.
Optimus waved his concern off idly; this did nothing to comfort Sam, but he knew from experience that arguing wouldn't help much. Optimus Prime took orders from no one.
"So, uh, are you looking for Bumblebee? Because I have no clue where he is, and that's probably pretty important, plus it means I have no car, and—"
"Bumblebee will be back soon; he just needed to… stretch his legs, as it were," Optimus said, interrupting him before he could continue his tangent.
This explanation caused Sam's brain to conjure up an image of Bumblebee in all his building-sized glory, jogging around the neighborhood in a gigantic tracksuit. The thought made him simultaneously want to laugh and be sick.
"I came to talk to you."
Sam blanched.
"Me? Uh, me… uh…"
Optimus regarded him with an odd look before responding, "Yes, Sam; you. How are you doing?"
"Fine! Just fine; everything's fine. You know me: Sam 'Fine' Witwicky…"
Optimus looked confused for a second but shook it off and went on.
"And Mikaela?"
Sam paused in his ramblings, gazing dreamily at the sky.
"She's very fine…"
Then he blinked.
"Is there a reason we shouldn't be fine?" he asked, panic rising in his voice.
"No, nothing's wrong," Optimus said patiently. "I'm just trying to make conversation."
"Oh. Well, that's okay, I guess," Sam said, once again peering around at the neighbors' houses. "It's broad daylight out…"
"Sam, why did you push the All Spark into Megatron's chest and not mine?"
Sam gaped at him, the change of subject sending him for a bit of a loop. It occurred to him now, well after the fact, that as something of an alien-robot-military leader, Optimus probably wasn't used to having his orders disobeyed. And given that most people (Sam included) were friggin' terrified by the military in general, Sam going against orders was probably a Big Deal. The only reason it hadn't been brought up until now, Sam figured, was because his move had saved most of their lives (he didn't like thinking about Jazz's unfortunate end).
And now that the question had been asked…
"I… uh… don't really know," he admitted lamely. "I guess I kind of panicked. Now that I think about it…"
He scratched his head.
"It was probably dumb. I mean, for all I knew, the thing could've given Megatron unlimited power or something. Glad it didn't. But even though everything was crazy and I was freaking out, falling off that building and all… you said 'sacrifice.'"
Sam finished his ramble, as if that explained everything.
"'No sacrifice, no victory,' wasn't it, Sam?" Optimus asked him pointedly.
Sam shifted uncomfortably.
"Well, yeah…" he drawled, "but I didn't wanna sacrifice you, you know?"
They paused, and Sam glanced at the ground, suddenly quite fascinated by the asphalt. Finally, Optimus broke the silence.
"I'm touched, Sam. Really. We all owe you a great debt."
"No, you don't," Sam muttered sheepishly. "You're the good guys; I want to be one of the good guys… good guys look out for other good guys, right? Plus, you saved me and Mikaela a bunch of times, too…"
"Still, there must be something we can do to repay you."
"I don't really need anything," Sam said. "I've got a car – kind of – and a girlfriend. I'm a simple guy; that's all I need. Just call me Sam 'Simple' Witwicky."
The look of confusion returned.
"I thought your middle name was 'James.'"
"Huh? It is. …Oh. Oh! Yeah, it's just an expression; sorry."
"Ah."
The awkward pause that followed made Sam feel fidgety. He shifted from one foot to the other, checked the neighbors' houses again, and was about to ask if Optimus needed anything else when the other beat him to it.
"Sam, would you consider us to be friends?"
Sam gawked at him.
Optimus elaborated.
"I mean 'us' as in myself and the other Autobots."
"Uh, well…" Sam began, trying to think of how to answer without being horribly offensive, "besides Bumblebee, I dunno you all that well, you know?"
Realizing that his words could be taken as an accusation, he backtracked quickly.
"I mean, it's not you guys' fault or anything – you've got places to be and things to do… and stuff."
"But you find us intimidating."
It wasn't a question this time.
"Er…"
"Sam, we would never do anything to harm you."
He jumped, then shook his head vigorously, and his hands, too, for good measure.
"Oh, yeah, I know!" he said hurriedly. "It's just, y'know, you're, like, your home planet's military, right? Our military's scary enough. Not that you're scary!"
Sam could have smacked himself, but Optimus just nodded, seeming to understand.
"You think of yourself as one of our underlings?"
Sam hung his head.
"That's not it…"
But it kind of was.
"We may be 'giant alien robots,' but we're not all that different from you humans," Optimus said, apparently trying to console him.
"You're not?"
Optimus shook his head.
"No. And if you're up to it, we'd like to get to know you better."
Realization slowly dawned on Sam as he regarded the Autobot leader before him.
"And then maybe we can be friends?" he ventured hesitantly.
Optimus smiled.
"I'd like that, Sam Witwicky."
A horn beeped suddenly, making both of them jump – that was strange to see, Sam decided – and Bumblebee pulled into the already-crowded driveway. Thankfully, he was not wearing a giant tracksuit. Seeing Optimus in his normal form, Bumblebee transformed as well, and it was all Sam could do to keep from beating his head on the lamp-post.
The yellow Autobot glanced back and forth between his leader and their human companion.
"What'd I miss?"
