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Mirrorball

"Traffic wasn't bad," Sam noted as he checked the time. "We have a half-hour. Wanna go somewhere?"

Without verbally responding, Bumblebee turned the wheel and headed back out towards the cliff. Sam just leaned back and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, glancing up into the rearview mirror even though no one was behind them. The disco ball still dangled there, along with the long-dead air-freshener that Sam couldn't remember actually smelling like anything. Old car, maybe. Dust.

He wasn't sure where Bumblebee had gotten them from, or if they were real or just part of his transformation. He hadn't asked. Maybe he should get something new - Sam wasn't sure if that would be a good idea or not. It might be insulting, after all, to suggest replacing something that might be quite personal.

Sam reached up with his right hand and tapped the mirrored silver, causing it to spin and jerk wildly for a couple of seconds. The song on the radio ended but Bumblebee didn't change the station. Apparently Bumblebee was going to save his words for when they arrived.

A minute later the silence (other than the song on the radio that sounded just like the song before that sounded like the song before it and the one before the commercial break) became almost unbearable and Sam tried desperately to think of something to say.

"You remember Miles, right?" Sam was fairly sure there was no possible way Bumblebee could actually forget things. Which was a fairly awful thought unto itself. He winced. "Anyway, Miles heard that an old drive-in move theatre is re-opening for the summer."

Bumblebee still didn't answer and for a moment as they slowed to a stop at the top of the cliff and slowly released the driver's door latch.

So Bumblebee did actually want to talk - just not as a car. Sam actually thought it was a bit easier when Bumblebee was a car - with the windows up, he probably just looked like he was singing along to the radio. Which he did sometimes - another thing Bumblebee never commented on but probably should have.

Sam didn't think he could ever get tired of watching Bumblebee shift forms. He liked watching and no matter how many times he saw the transformation, he knew he'd never memorize every last way parts tucked together before tucking away. It was the sort of thing he would watch in slow motion a thousand times, if he could. But he'd never said that. It didn't seem right.

Still, he stood on the dusty earth of the cliff and watched Bumblebee change from his car to a giant robot. Childhood cartoons had not quite prepared him for seeing it in real life, he decided.

"Miles was correct," Bumblebee said as he reached down to let Sam climb up onto his hand to be carefully placed on a yellow, metal shoulder. "I just searched. You can pre-order movie tickets online starting tomorrow."

That might have been too much information - the sort of thing Sam had noticed that all of the Autobots were prone to when given the chance. He wondered if he could turn off their wi-fi somehow before their speech patterns devolved into the gutteral rage of emo preteens.

"Wanna go?" Sam asked. Somehow the view was always better when he was perched on Bumblebee. Same view, just... better.

"Just... us?" There was something in Bumblebee's voice that sounded incredibly hopeful and Sam didn't dare deny it. Really, he'd barely thought about taking Mikaela - after all, it wasn't often that he could even consider going to see a movie with Bumblebee. Normal theaters couldn't quite accomodate a sentient robot which left Sam filling in the blanks and trying to explain action sequences (though after a few days, it was just as easy to suggest looking for pirated copies on Youtube).

"Just us," Sam replied as he patted the metal beneath him almost unconsciously. He chuckled. Maybe he'd buy a new little dangly object for Bumblebee's rearview mirror. It'd be just like a date.

And the thought didn't strike him as particularly weird.