Author's Note: Okay, since I've now joined beexsam, the fastest-updating community on my LJ, I've been terribly influenced by this mess and had to write this. Because, seriously, who doesn't want to see drunk!Sam and Bee?
The day Mikaela broke up with him, Sam Witwicky felt a small part of his world shatter. He'd truly liked the gorgeous girl who no longer had a criminal record and knew how to fix his car better than he did; apparently, though, this clearly wasn't enough to keep a relationship going. They were, they'd found, too different for a lasting relationship, though it wasn't from lack of trying. Sam and Mikaela had put in a good year's work to this relationship, enough to see them through their senior year of high school.
But then the fights got more frequent, when Sam got a scholarship to go to UCLA and Mikaela somehow found a full-ride to Miami. Their relationship, starting to turn ragged at the edges already, quickly fell apart.
So it was that Sam Witwicky blindly grabbed a bottle from his dad's liquor cabinet, got in his car, and drove out to the overlook. The radio station kept switching about with his doing anything, but Sam didn't take any notice of it. He knew Bumblebee was trying to cheer him up, take his mind off of Mikaela, but frankly, finding a good song on the radio was definitely not the way to go about this.
The overlook. Sam sighed, looking out of the windshield of the parked vehicle. The overlook was where he'd first started hooking up with Mikaela, back when they'd first found out that Sam's car was actually a giant alien robot. It held a lot of memories for the boy, and it was here, he figured, that it would be best to drown his sorrows.
"Well, here goes," he muttered to himself, uncapping the bottle of Tennessee whiskey he'd swiped and taking a swig. The vapors assaulted his senses, and Sam couldn't hold back a choking cough. His eyes watered, and it seemed that Bee suddenly came to life, the radio flicking about.
"You okay honey?" Taking a breath, Sam stared at the radio in disbelief.
"Where," he said around little coughs, "did you find RENT on the radio?"
"Brought to you by Sirius satellite radio."
"No way. You pick up satellite?" Sam took another swig, idly, and noticed that this time it didn't burn quite so much. The radio was silent for several moments, and he relaxed in the driver's seat, lounging back.
"You're not sure that you love me, but you're not sure enough to let me go," sang the Wreckers, and Sam nodded.
"You heard the whole thing, Bee," the boy murmured. "We just...don't work anymore." Lifting the bottle again to his lips, Sam mentally toasted Mr. Daniels for his amazing whiskey before taking a significant gulp, wheezing afterwards.
"And if I'm drinking, well, you know we'll be good friends and I'll say, I think I'll have myself a beer," came Reel Big Fish's blasting ska chords, and Sam couldn't help but laugh a little bit. A brief thought flashed through his mind, and perhaps it was the fault of the alcohol, but he couldn't stop himself from asking the question.
"Bee, can you guys get drunk?" It felt as though Bumblebee's engine skipped a beat, but Sam put it down to the fact that he was coming to the realization that he was a cheap drunk, and his senses couldn't necessarily be trusted.
Fortunately, the answer was soon in coming from the radio's speakers. "I kissed a drunk girl, I kissed a drunk girl, yes I did," sang Something Corporate. Sam laughed.
"I'll take it that's a yes, then?" he asked loudly, his faculties falling further from his control as the alcohol took it's toll. Bee kept the song playing, and, despite himself, Sam found himself falling asleep on Bee's front seat, the bottle of Jack Daniels falling from his grasp as he did so. With what could have been a sigh, Bumblebee softly revved his engine and hoped that Sam was comfortable.
Soft strains of music drifted out into the night. "I love you more than I did the week before I discovered alcohol..."