Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. It belongs to Hasbro.
Warnings: Constant mentions of interfacing and overloading.
Author's Note: Is 5:30AM and I saw TF2 like... 14 hours ago and I'm already wanting to see it again. So, instead, I write this. Tentacles mention is for Jey, and Plug-and-Play idea was found when searching about Wikipedia. (although I doubt it's page on plug and play is the same thing I'm on about.)
This has been beta'd by my marvelous beta, so yay! :D
There are moments, moments that are often in fact the wrong moment, when you realise you've done something amazingly, utterly stupid and mind-blowingly embarrassing. These moments usually cause one to blush bright red and stammer and stutter and act like even more of a fool, and, well, Sam seemed to be suffering from a lot more of these little 'moments' than he would have liked lately.
It had all started with the Goddamned iPod player. It had been a normal one, black, relatively shiny, the type that plugged into your car and played your music on the speakers. Sam had asked Ratchet before he had bought it if it would be okay to use on Bee, and the medic had told him it would be. Of course, looking back on it, Sam should have been... wary... of the way Ratchet had asked him to tell him how the 'Interfacing' had gone.
Sam, stupid, stupid Sam, had thought that when Ratchet had said interfacing he had just meant plugging the thing in. But, no, apparently not.
Not that he had known or anything. So this whole incident was totally not his fault. Nope. If anything, it was Ratchet's fault, and as such he deserved to be punished justly.
Sam resolved to enlist Mudflap and Skids in his mission to bring revenge and justice down upon Ratchet's head and servos and freaking Spark later. He'd do it now, of course, but he currently had a very large, very heavy alien robot to doze on top of, and he should be allowed to take a brief nap, what with all that interfacing they'd been doing, which had included a variety of solid holograms, touching Bee's Spark and what may have been tentacles, or wires or something, Sam wasn't too sure.
He'd been too distracted by the colour of Bee's optics, the way they had brightened and dulled, and twisted and turned in their strange way of dilating.
But thinking of interfacing made Sam think of his near constant blunders in the culture and language of Autobots, and, not for the last time in his life, he felt himself flushing red as he remembered his little accident.
How was he supposed to know that if you plugged that certain port with this certain shaped object it was an open invitation to interfacing?!
And Bee hadn't even told him, no, not until he had overloaded on a highway at the 5PM rushhour yesterday evening!
So Sam shouldn't even be feeling this embarrassed. Nope.
Heck, maybe it was even the packaging's fault! 'Plug-and-Play.' It was like... some kind of false advertising, Sam just knew it. He could sue!
(Although, four days later he would punch Leo in the nose for daring to tease him about how he had done just what the plastic had told him to. There was no way Sam was taking shit from the guy who had been cuddling and worshiping Simmons.)
So. It was the product's fault he had fallen in lo... in like with his car. Yup. Not his. And, since it wasn't his fault, obviously there was no reason to be embarrassed.
Sighing contently at that thought, Sam lowered his head back down to lay against Bee's chest plates, listening to the gentle thrum of Bee's Spark. The warm metal and soft, almost sweet tingles of electricity that snaked over his skin soon lulled him to sleep, and he didn't even wake up when Optimus walked in on them, optics wide at the sight.
After all, it wasn't his fault, and as such Sam didn't need to be embarrassed.
(And thus Samuel James Witwicky would continue to step and stomp all over Autobot traditions, at least until he found himself supposedly engaged. After which he had Optimus Prime sit down and explain it all to him, while Mikaela and Leo and a visiting Miles would snigger to themselves in the background.)