It seemed that these days no ninja was required to track someone down. All it took was the internet and their last name. So usually Sam could keep his location "secret." Since, you know. People couldn't even pronounce his last name, let alone spell it. Which was why he was surprised when William Lennox showed up at his door one day in civilian clothes and a casual offer of 'Lunch?'
Ever since then, they got together on average once a week, sometimes twice, sometimes not at all. Today, their spot of interest was a coffee shop downtown. They had been there a little over an hour, had gone through enough coffee and soda to power Lennox's platoon, and showed no signs of stopping.
They didn't talk about anything particularily important, everything from the weather ("Its raining." "You're a sharp one Sam." "Ess tee eff yoo." "Sorry. No habla internet.") to what movies looked good ("Did you see that trailer that was done with a handheld camera?" "Yeah. 'Cloverfield' or whatever." "Aliiiiiums." "Sam, aren't you sick of Aliens yet?" "…no?") to romance ("All I really need to know is my car could steal my girlfriend.") only deviating to "serious" topics rarely.
The first twenty minutes had been hoarded in on by a few girls a few booths away that may or may not have been friends of Mikaela. Sam couldn't tell. All girls looked the same these days. They seemed to be, Sam didn't know, doing some sort of mating ritual thing to attract the soldier. Obviously they failed. The last ten minutes of the conversation had been one sided, with Sam spacing a bit and staring out the window.
"Sam. A girls head just exploded." Lennox said stone-facedly.
"Awesome." He mumbled mindlessly before turning his gaze to the other man and blinking. He tilted his head. "What?"
"I think you're mind was on Cybertron, dude." He nodded and downed the last of his coffee.
"Sorry. Just thinking."
"Does it hurt?"
Lennox rolled his eyes. "You're one strange kid. You're thinking about Bee, aint'cha."
Sam tilted his head at him. "What makes you think that?"
"Well, because you have a crush on your car and logically that's all you'd think about." Lennox said easily, shrugging.
"Be kind. Rewind. I have a crush on my car? Where did you get that from." Sam said, sitting up and tensing slightly.
"Um, Yeah. Didn't you know?" He looked at him curiously. "Haha! You didn't! Oh boy. Typical. Listen, not saying that there is anything wrong with it, but you have an obsession with Bumblebee. You're always talking about him." He reached over the small table and clapped him on the shoulder lightly.
"I don't know where you're getting this from." Sam said slowly after a moment. He only received a disbelieving sigh in return. "Well since you seem to be the Grand master of everything, what do I do?"
"Talk with him? Go on a nice car ride and just chat. See if he feels the same." Lennox shrugged and checked his watch. "I should get back. Wife and Kid, right? 'Sides. Ironhide gets possesive when I'm gone too long." He laughed slightly and the two did the obligatory one arm boy hug and parted.
As much as Sam admired the man, his ability to know everything simultaneously caused him more than one headache. The walk back home was painful for him, as he was coming to the distinct realization that yes, he did indeed have a crush on his car.
Fucking fuck. He needed to see what the internet had to say about this.