Disclaimer: I don’t own Transformers. It belongs to Hasbro.

Warnings: Simmons/Leo, OOC, some pretty crap writing.

Author’s Note: Some pretty crappy drabble-one-shot things just to pass the time. I moved recently and as such have misplaced my external harddrive, which has most of my better TF fics hidden away on it. __’
So until I find it I spit out these... these OOC crack things.
The five words were given to me by Sydney!Alyssa.
Has been beta’d by my marvellous beta. :D

Pink.
(ROTF verse.)

Sam stared and stared and maybe even vomited in his mouth a little. Shock and fear and utter disgust were awash inside him and he was almost positive that this was the twins’ fault. In fact, he was so certain that he turned on his heel and stalked across the University’s parking lot towards where the two other bots sat, quivering, under the stern eye of Optimus Prime.

Sam could only thank Primu—God, God, he needed to stop thinking like an Autobot! – that it was school vacation and the Government was covering the whole thing up. In fact, several NEST members sat gathered around the entire scene, and Sam rolled his eyes when he noticed how Will Lennox was elbowing Ironhide.

“You two,” Sam spat, his brown eyes narrowed and his lips pursed in that pouty way that usually sent the other mechs around him running. “Are going to pay for that.”

Skids and Mudflap flinched, especially when Bee sent an accompanying blast of screeching, raging heavy-metal music through the air which seemingly increased the entire aura of Sam’s anger.

“And when you two have paid for a new paint job, I expect to see you cleaning up the rest of the campus!”

Mudflap raised a tentative servo in reply, and when Sam hissed out a “What?” he answered, “Well, um, how do we pay for the paintjob, almighty Sam sir?”

“I don’t know. In fact, all I do know is that you had better get it done soon or I will have your freaking Sparks for dinner. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?! You can’t just paint someone’s car pink when the car’s asleep, you jerks!”

Bee nodded enthusiastically in agreement, his neon pink hands clenched. Another blast of heavy metal sent the other two scuttling off, headed in the direction of Ratchet as they planned to beg for some money.

Orgasm.
(ROTF verse.)

“Oh sweet Jesus!”

The one thing – the one thing – Sam had not expected to see as he had entered his dorm room was to see this. This... this monster. This crime against nature! Oh, God, it was disgusting.

Recoiling, Sam stumbled back and fell against the shut door, eyes wide as he watched Leo fling back his head and yowl, somewhat like a cat in heat except much louder and high pitched and Sam wouldn’t be surprised if his ears ended up bleeding, as he orgasmed.

Simmons cursed loudly and stilled his madly propelling hips as he came too, effectively scarring Sam for life. Dear God, he’d be surprised if he would still be able to interface with Bee after this, because he was pretty damned sure he’d never be able to ‘Get It Up’ ever again.

Not with this image in his mind.

“Primus.” Sam spat again, just for good measure, totally forgetting the fact that he was trying to be a normal kid and that saying things like Primus and seeing your friend have sex with one of the men you disliked most in the world was not normal.

Ice-cream.
(2007 movie-verse.)

Bumblebee hated ice-cream. Absolutely hated the stuff. He could often be seen hiding somewhere should Sam come home with it, although by being seen he was often defeating the entire purpose of the hiding. Bee said he was such a bad spy because everything on this planet was way too small for it’s own good, although Ironhide and Ratchet would often mutter to each other that, in reality, the younger bot just wanted to be found by Sam.

This was complete and utter lunacy, because Sam with ice-cream usually meant Miles with ice-cream, and as much as Bee liked the guy, he was still quite messy, and had no consideration for Bee’s interior. Nope, none at all.

The last time he had been inside of Bee had been the day Sam had allowed Miles to borrow him and, well, Bee had thought that Sam and Miles hated that Trent guy. But, apparently, hate meant unrelieved sexual tension on this planet or something because Trent and Miles had driven to the next town, had gone to a movie, had dinner, gotten ice cream and had proceeded to smear it all over Bee and themselves, along with some other... less than satisfactory liquids.

Didn’t these people realise that by spilling ice-cream inside of Bee it meant that when he transformed back it was likely to stick to cables and delicate, tiny wires and completely mess him up? He was a living, non-breathing thing too! Whatever happened to respecting a bot enough that you didn’t end up interfacing in him? Even Decepticons weren’t that filthy!

Kids these days. He thought to himself grumpily as he felt another disgusting splat of strawberry ice cream land on his seat.

(Or, at least he hoped it was ice cream.)

Kitten.
(ROTF verse. (fun note: this was written with me on my back and the laptop on my stomach with my eyes closed – had a total of four mistakes.))

“You got me a kitten.”

Sam stared up at Bumblebee, eyebrows drawn together as he muttered to himself, slightly amused and somewhat stunned, “A cat, when I already have two dogs.”

Bumblebee shrugged, making the huffy face that only Sam and the other Autobots could really decipher, and a defensive love song that said something about Pleasin’ My Gal came on and sung out over Bee’s radio.

“I know, buddy, I know, but, uh, why a kitten?”

Said kitten meowed in what appeared to be annoyance from between Sam’s arms, as though it was asking, “Well, are you keeping me or not, you prick?”

Bee squirmed, and opted to sit down. Sam watched as he printed something out (a nifty little device Ratchet had installed when Bee’s vocal processors had shot themselves for the sixth time) of his left servo, before having it handed to him.

Passing Bee the tiny cat, Sam watched fondly as Bee raised it to his face and gently nuzzled it, the kitten making a happy meowing noise at the act. He then looked down at the paper in his hand, the strong smell of fresh ink drifting up from the bright red page.

Emblazoned across the top of it were the letters, “The ultimate gift for your lover!”

“... oh, Bee. I thought we went over this. These websites are just rubbish. Rubbish!”

Bee shrugged, and passed Sam the kitten, which instantly hissed and lodged its claws into his arm. Cursing, Sam pulled it off him and threw it at Bee, glaring at it.

“Look, fine, I’ll let you keep it. But if it does that again... so help me...”

A happy pop song tinkered out from the radio, and Sam shook his head, amused by the fact that Bee had totally forgotten that he had gotten it for Sam originally.

(He would later learn that Wheeljack, Mudflap and Skids, who had just wanted a kitty around the base, had put his lover up to the whole thing.)

Thrust.
(ROTF verse.)

Ironhide, Sam had learnt, was a bit in-your-face. He had learnt this over the last few years, what with the constant state of this gun and this turbo-powered-whatzit and that weapon the mech functioned in. You couldn’t hope to feel completely safe around him, unless you were Will but Sam supposed that since he wasn’t Will it meant he obviously deserved to be almost poked in the fucking eye every fucking three minutes.

Bee agreed with him.

The yellow bot had told him stories about how, when he had been nary but a Sparkling, he had often woken up screaming and yelling and that Ironhide’s way of calming him down was to stuff a laser in his face and expect him to play with it. He had almost offlined himself that way, and he had lost an optic for quite a while.

So, naturally, Sam was a bit wary when Bee started to do it too, but had put up with it for the last four years. Sure, Bee wasn’t as bad as Ironhide, but he had been doing it a lot more than usually lately, and it was starting to get a little bit irritating. Leo would often whisper and nudge Sam in the ribs and say it was Bee’s way of saying I love you, but Sam would ignore him and blush bright red.

It wasn’t as though Sam and Mikaela had broken up because Sam thought he was gay or anything. Nope. It was a mutual falling out.

Leo was obviously delusional. He should meet Miles. Miles was also delusional. What with his living with Trent and everything.

The world was slowly going insane!

Sighing, Sam stood up and wandered over to his window, watching as students milled around outside and absent-mindedly scratching his belly when he felt it rumble. Feeling much too lazy to get up and make something to eat, he instead flopped back onto his bed, huffing in annoyance when the door to the dorm knocked.

Grumbling under his breath he sat back up and stomped over to it, flinging it open and getting ready to yell at Leo for forgetting his key again.

He had a box thrust in his face instead, smacking him in the forehead and making him cuss.

An upset whine made Sam lower the thing, and he blinked. Standing in front of him was what appeared to Bee’s holographic form (something Sam only glimpsed every so often, usually when he was didn’t have much money and wanted to use the cheap-twosies-Tuesday at the local drive-in, which cost four dollars less than it did by himself), except that couldn’t be right because Bee was off doing whatever he had been doing with Ratchet these days.

Frowning at the thought and pushing down the jealousy, not that he was or anything, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Um... is that you, Bee?”

A frantic nod made Sam step back, eyes widening when he realised that Bee had been holding something. Holograms shouldn’t be able to hold something. They weren’t solid!

As Bee entered the room, Sam shut the door and let his barrage of questions go. “Okay, how the hell are you in here?! Like that I mean! You shouldn’t be able to! What happened? Is it the Decepticons?! Wait, are you a Decepticon?! Oh great, just great, you’re going to stick another alien thing in my brain again, aren’t you? Fucker.”

He spat at the mech’s feet for good measure, not really caring that he had just gotten the floor dirty. It was Leo’s turn to clean (or pay someone else to, as he was wont to do) anyway.

Decepticon-Bee just shot him a bewildered look and said, “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a giant, evil robot. It’s what giant evil robots do, you... you solidified piece of tin.”

Bee’s unimpressed silence just made Sam squirm, until finally he added, “It could happen!”

“You didn’t have to spit!” Bee retorted, taking a few steps away from the wet spot on the floor. Sam shrugged, and added, “Well, it’s, you know, a secret way of saying hi. Autobots-pretending-to-be-Decepticons wouldn’t know that.”

“What’s with the Decepticon thing today?” Bee asked, rubbing at his forehead in a way that reminded Sam of Miles when he was particularly frustrated with him. Jesus, you’re weird, dude was what Miles would have said.

“Primus, Sam, you’re an odd human sometimes.”

Sam eyeballed Bee and muttered to himself, “You obviously didn’t see the tongue.”

Bee’s bewildered look only made Sam smirk in triumph, although he screamed when Bee’s tongue shot out of his mouth two seconds later.

“OhmyGod you are a Decepticon! Rape! Raaape!” Sam screeched as he scrambled over behind his desk, grabbing his metal ruler and preparing to battle it out, at least until the real Bee got here. Or Leo distracted it.

... hopefully Leo. Getting molested by a Decepticon would teach him to stop leaving his dirty underwear on Sam’s pillow.

“Get away from me you! Don’t think I don’t how to use this! I have voices in my head that tell me how to!”

Decepticon-Bee’s head popped over the top of the desk, dirty blonde and black hair falling over his face as he asked, confused, “You mean the voices are telling you how to measure stuff?”

Sam whacked the thing on the nose by way of answer.

Jerking his head back, Bee cried, “Ow, Primus Sam! What did you do that for?!”

“You know why, you scum! You think you’re such hot shit, with your tongue and your tail and and your panties! I know what you are!”

“... panties?”

“I know all about them!”

The sound of shuffling papers could be heard, and then the squeak of bed springs, followed by Bee’s voice.

“Sam, do you think you might be a little... paranoid?”

“Oh, right, right. Obviously I don’t have the right to be paranoid after all the shit that keeps happening to me.” Sam yelled back over his shoulder, his spare hand digging around the papers and old chocolate wrappings for another weapon. He came across a sock he had lost two months ago and a very thick textbook about Space-Time, along with one of Leo’s alien figurines. Frowning at it, Sam decided to throw it at Decepticon-Bee, and did so without looking, hoping it hit.

The sound of smashing glass alerted him to the fact that he had probably just broken one of Leo’s glass Star Trek figurines (collectables apparently worth hundreds) and he winced, preparing himself to get ready to fork out more money than he would have liked.

“This is all your fault!” He informed the Pretender in the room, snorting when Decepticon-Bee muttered, “Oh, for Primus’ sake, Sam. Ratchet and Wheeljack wanted to do some upgrades on my real body but I didn't wanna leave you alone so they transferred me to the Pretender model they designed. And I just thought that you would, you know, maybe, like to see it. I even got you a car to make up for the lack of a ride! It’s nice to know you just see me as your car. Hmmph!”

... well. That sounded slightly reasonable. Huffing to himself, Sam held up his hand so that it was the only thing visible to Bee from behind the desk and said, “Throw me my phone.”

A few seconds later it crashed into his trashcan, and wincing Sam extracted it, wiping off some cake crumbs.

“This had better not turn into some sort of brain-molesting minibot again,” He muttered, dialling the number Optimus had given him to use in emergencies. And, while Sam was sure the Autobot would chastise him for this later, he decided to classify this as an emergency.

“Samuel?”

Optimus’ voice crackled over the line, and Sam felt a tad safer that the phone hadn’t crawled into his ear yet. “Optimus, my good mech! Would you mind handing the phone over to Ratchet because . I might not, but I’m just making sure.”

“... of course?”

“I’m not a Decepticon!” Bee snapped, and Sam turned around and shifted to his knees, where he raised his head so that it just appeared above desk’s tabletop. Glaring at him, he muttered a, “Quiet, you. I’m not taking any more chances. You go out and get yourself strangled by a giant, diesely tongue and see how you react to it mentally.”

“You’re insane, Sam! I knew it, I knew it, I should have made Ratchet check you out ages ago, but nooo, I don’t do that because I wanted to be nice! Nice! And here you are throwing three week old cake at me for my troubles!”

“The cake is a lie--- I mean, you are a lie!”

“What’s a lie?” Ratchet asked Sam, sounding amused.

“You are!” Sam told him, before shaking his head and huffing, “Is Bee there?”

“... define what you mean by Bee.”

“I mean him! Like, the Sparkling you raised! With the giant metal pacifiers!”

“Samuel, I’m afraid we have no need for these... pacifiers...”

“... Ratchet, don’t fuck with me. Not now. I have a potential Decepticon in the room. He’s reading my maga---OhmyGod!”

Sam looked back over at Bee and exclaimed, “You’re a... a... femmebot, aren’t you? OhmyGod you’re sick, preying on my crush! And I haven’t even admitted to myself that I like him yet! I knew this phone was reading my mind!”

“You have a crush on Bumblebee?”

“You have a crush on me?”

Sam threw his phone at Decepticon-Bee’s head.

“Will you stop throwing things at me?!”

Ratchet’s voice echoed faintly from the phone, barely loud enough for Sam to hear, “Bumblebee, is he reacting negatively to your temporary body?”

“Yes!”

“Oh.” Sam added, realising that maybe that this was Bee. Oops.

“I’ll talk to his mother, then. I told her it would probably be a good idea for him to go to counselling... I’m sure the Government could arrange it...”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you, Ratchet.” Bee shut the phone, and stood up to glare down at Sam again. Sam glanced up at him and coughed slightly, saying, “... it was a horrible experience.”

“We know that, Sam. And we understand that, but come on.”

“You weren’t there! You didn’t see the tongue!”

Bee rolled his eyes, and answered, “Yeah, yeah. Will you get up off the floor?”

Sam did so, stretching and wandering over to poke at the mess that had been Leo’s glass Spock.

“He’s gonna kill me for that.”

“Probably. Here.”

Sam looked up from his poking, raising an eyebrow at the box Bee once again thrust in his face.

“You’re gonna take one of my eyes out that way.” Sam informed him, opening it. His eyes widened when he held up the little plastic yellow car that Bee had bought him, and he couldn’t stop the hysterical little giggle that welled up.

Bee eyeballed him, and said to himself, “... I suppose I’d better get used to the idea of having a crazed Sparkmate...”

Sam’s head snapped to look over at him, and he asked a stunned, “What?”

“Well, you said you had a crush on me, didn’t you?” Bee replied, smiling slightly. Sam coughed and looked away, muttering an embarrassed, “NoIdidn’t.”

“... Sam, if you pull a stunt like you did with Mikaela I will, quite possibly, kill you. I have wanted you since the moment I saw you and if you do something as sick and twisted as throw me such a nice bone and then take it away you will experience more pain than Megatron could ever hope to inflict.”

“You like me?” Sam’s eyes were wide and doe-eyed, and Bee felt a wave of fondness wash over him.

“Yes, Sam. I like you. Why else would I steal money off Will and use it to buy that car?”

“... how much was the car?” Sam asked, staring down at it. Bee shrugged, and replied, “About $300...”

“... you bought me a collectable. In your image! That’s so nice!” Sam smiled brightly, and then he exclaimed, “Well, thanks for the visit I guess you’d better be going now.”

“You’re avoiding the current issue Samuel.”

“Yup. I mean, I might like you but I’m still getting used to it.”

“You drive me insane.” Bee informed him, before striding over and kissing Sam, pressing his lips hard against Sam’s and thrusting his tongue against Sam’s mouth. Sam squeaked, and flailed for a moment, before he finally huffed into Bee’s mouth and kissed back, although reluctantly.

After all, he had totally envisioned this being a bit more romantic, and all. Maybe a trip to Norway in winter, being snowed in. Something epic. Maybe he should get Bee to take him to Egypt again...