Well, in honour of reaching two of my goals- the first being getting through my damn midterms and the second being reaching at least 7 reviews for chapter 3 before I post chapter 4, I am now posting chapter 4 with a joyous heart and big grin on my face!

I just want to say right here that I am working on chapter 17 of Come as best I can, but it's a slow going process. I'm real sorry to anyone who reads Come and is getting irked by the long wait for the next chapter. Believe me, I know where you're coming from and I'm doing my best to buckle down and focus on the fic! Hopefully, this will tide you over for a little bit!

Cassiopeia1979- lol! I'm real glad to hear that you like this fic! I'm trying real hard to appeal to the masses!

Lecidre- Awwww, I'm so flattered to hear that you like Oscar from this fic! He's such a funny character to write! Gloria's a nice character to write, too! They're a real nice couple for taking Mikaela in all those years ago, and they're an even nicer couple for steering Mikaela in the right direction, right back to Sam!

Bunnylass- OMG! You earn the prize for best review of the chapter! When I saw the review, I just about jumped out of my skin in happiness! Long reviews are always my favourite since they usually point out specific things that the reader liked in the chapter, which is a big help to the one writing the story! It really looks like you're enjoying the story so far, which makes me happy beyond words! I hope you go on enjoying yourself!

Chloo- Nope, not dead! Hope I didn't worry you too much.

Bluebird Soaring- Oh, Bumblebee's gonna get what's coming to him, that's for sure! And Sam still has a sweet side to him; no amount of growing up could ever truly knock it out of him. It just took him a little bit of reminding that he just have a real heart buried underneath all that hot, sexual tension.

theshadowcat- Yeah, there's going to be 'hankey-pankey,' as you put it, but it's been sixteen years since they've last seen each other- cut them some slack! Let them get to know each other first before they do the nasty. But, just to assuage your curiosity; yes, they'll be having fun time sooner or later!

Litahatchee- Are you serious? There's a word limit on reviews? That's freaking messed up! If someone chooses to give a long review, that's their business! What's next, putting word limits on chapters? God forbid! I'll quit the site if they do! I'm glad you were able to send some love along, despite the new restrictions! Thanks so much! I'm so glad that you like the story! Here's hoping the love continues!

Special thanks to Violetlight, who edited my ass! You are truly one of the greatest people in the world! Without you, my story would be all the more mistake-ridden!

Read&Review please! Everyone likes a nice pat on the head once in a while!

Chapter 4

"I'm glad Mikaela agreed to drive you to Phoenix," Bumblebee said quietly while Sam stood by his open trunk, a bag in each hand. "It's rather generous of her, since the trip is bound to take two hours."

"Keep saying that, Bee, like you didn't decide to leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere," Sam grouched. "It makes everything better."

Bumblebee gave a static-laden sigh, sinking deeply on his wheels. "Can't you at least try to make the best of the situation?"

The look that crossed the man's face was a cross between outrage and incredulity. "Make the best of the situation? The situation you so neatly created?" His voice came out as a hissing breath.

"I broke do-."

"Oh, please, Bumblebee! Don't patronize me with that crap!" Finally brought to the end of his tether, Sam let his frustration loose on his friend. "I'd like to think we've been together long enough to know when we're fucking around with each other, and I damn well know you're fucking with me now. You're an Autobot-trained scout, a spy, for God's sake! I know you're damn capable of doing something like this! Just come out and say it instead of insulting my intelligence like this."

The Camaro was silent for a long time, too long for Sam's shot patience. The human kicked the alien's tire.

"I mean it, Bumblebee. Stop screwing around with me."

Bumblebee heaved a sigh, which came out as a great rush of air from the car. "...you needed this, Sam."

Sam's eyes narrowed, leaning heavily against his old friend. "Needed what, exactly? To get laid? Or to be tortured slowly by my overwhelming sexual lust for Mikaela Banes?"

"Just lust?" Bumblebee enquired.

"Just lust." Sam assured flatly.

Again, Bumblebee was quiet for a long time, shifting gently against the human. "...I'm truly sorry for doing this to you, Sam. I know I've caused you considerable frustration through this." There was a real sense of apology in his voice this time. Not fake. It made Sam feel marginally better, until the alien continued talking. "But, as it stands, you have also caused me some considerable frustration during our years together as you forced me to stand by and watch you drown yourself in work and disgusting mindless sex. I'm willing to even put my Autobot insignia on the line to say you've refused to be emotionally intimate with another woman ever since Mikaela left. I refuse to go on any longer watching you torture yourself like this. It's as intolerable a punishment to me as it is you."

He obviously hit a nerve, since Sam's compact body tensed, went rigid, and his eyes flashed dangerously. "I've killed Decepticons bigger than you. I dare you to say this was for my own good again."

Undeterred by the threat, Bumblebee issued a static snort. "This is for your own good. I'll never deny it."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You only wish you could."

"No, I'm pretty sure I hate you at the moment."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I- oh, forget it. I'm not getting into with you right now," Sam growled. "As long as you admit to all this bullshit, I'm good." And just like that, all the anger seemed to rescind out of Sam's body, suddenly defeated. He waved his hand about the empty garage. "There's nothing that can be down now, so I guess I just have to live with it..." Under his breath, he hissed, "asshole."

"You don't have to sound so enthused," Bumblebee teased, attempting to lighten the mood. Sam cracked the ghost of a smile, but said nothing. Heartened by the human's small gesture, the Camaro pressed on valiantly. "Besides, Sam, you can't honestly tell me that you're not in the least bit pleased about this new arrangement."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm very pleased with the Mikaela-part of this arrangement," Sam replied honestly, thinking of Mikaela's long legs exposed in those cut-off shorts she'd been wearing, and how those legs would feel wrapped around him. He was a man, after all, and Mikaela was probably the finest looking woman he'd seen in a long time. He'd have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to enjoy the arrangement a little bit.

"See? That's very good! So at least you will be able to enjoy some more time with her while you drive to Phoenix-,"

"Yeah, right. Nothing like engaging in slow, torturous foreplay trapped in the cab of a moving vehicle while going 65 miles per hour with no hope of sexual gratification in the end; the thought really puts me in a chipper mood." Just sitting next to Mikaela at this point would be considered foreplay to his errant libido.

"Well, if it means anything to you, your pheromone levels are at a record high-."

"Keep my pheromone levels out of this," the human grunted quietly as the door opened and both Vautzs wandered in.

Oscar's gaze darted about. "Who ya talkin' ta, my boy?" he asked.

Sam grimaced, sensing the laughter coming from Bumblebee. "Just saying goodbye to my car," he replied through gritted teeth, fashioning a smile to his face. "Telling him to behave while I'm gone."

Oscar looked touched. "Awww, that's mighty sweet of ya, Sammy boy, but I'm sure I'll get along great with this sweet little treasure of yours. Nothin' like a little bit a' bonding time between me an' this classic ta make good friends." He patted Bumblebee fondly.

Sam nodded, adjusting the grip on his duffle bags. "Well, as long as fixing him isn't any trouble for you…"

"Bah, what trouble? Got nothing better to do around here except the ol' bird- Ouch! I meant the Firebird!" Oscar cried as his wife raised her hand to whack him again.

The old woman huffed, lowering her hand. "Of course you did, you old nut." She brushed out the non-existent dirt from her skirt, and then made her way over to Sam. She was easily over a head shorter than he was, but the intelligence in her gaze had him straightening his stance as if she were his commanding officer.

"I want you to know," the woman began slowly, carefully, "Mikaela may not be our little girl by blood, but she sure is special to us. I don't know if you being here some act of God, the devil, or by serendipity itself, but whatever happens, I want you to know that that girl's heart has been broken more times than I can count and I don't think she can handle another heartache. If you intent to do anything with her beyond saying thank you for the drive, I want you to keep that mind, young man."

The muscles in Sam's chest tightened for a fraction of a second as he acknowledged the idea that Mikaela had been through her fair share of heartaches beyond him, before he nodded firmly. "Yes, ma'am," he replied in all seriousness. "I'll keep that mind."

Gloria paused for a long moment in front of Sam, raising a hand to cup his roughed cheek. "You seem like a nice young man, so I'm going to trust you on your word," she sighed. "But if my girl comes home crying, you can be sure I'll hunt you down. There's still some bite left in this old woman." The glint in her blue eyes spoke volumes of the bite she still had left.

"I'll keep that in mind, too," Sam replied, swallowing nervously.

The growling sputter of an ancient engine gunning up filtered through the blazing air, announcing that Mikaela had finally coaxed her old truck into ignition.

"An' here comes lil' Mick!" Oscar crowed.

A dusty red shape hunkered into view- a dented, shuddering 1965 Ford pick-up, with Mikaela looking tense at the wheel, not even daring to look over at Sam. She had the look of a prisoner walking down death row, resigned to the fact that she was going to have to share space with the sexually potent presence of Sam Witwicky.

"Ain't she a beaut'?" Oscar marvelled, grinning. Sam nodded, studying the girl inside the cab rather than the overall truck he was supposed to survive in for the next two hours. Bumblebee tensed the moment he caught sight of it, downright horrified. Sam felt the Camaro's discreet shudder. Turning back to the car, he ducked close and patted the roof fondly.

"I don't think this is such a good idea anymore, Sam. Look at the condition of that- that thing!" the alien hissed, almost too quiet to hear. "I never would have imagined Mikaela driving a junk heap like that!"

"Too late, buddy." Enjoying Bumblebee's abject horror, Sam turned, thanked the Vautzs for their hospitality, and then jogged to the Ford when Mikaela gave an impatient honk of the horn. Clambering in, he buckled up, pressing back against the seat as Mikaela leaned over to wave out the open passenger side window.

"I'll be back by tonight!" she called.

"Be safe!" Gloria called back, waving.

"Have fun!" Oscar shouted gaily, flapping both arms.

With a roll of her eyes, Mikaela settled back into her seat, put the truck into gear, and swung out onto the road.

Sufficed to say, the first few miles were awkward. They remained silent, neither willing to broach any topic of conversation with the other. The radio was left dead, since nobody seemed able to sum up enough energy to actually turn it on. Mikaela kept shooting Sam discreet glances from the corner of her eye, as if making sure she hadn't been dreaming before when he'd showed up in her garage. Sam didn't bother to mask his interest, blatantly staring at Mikaela to rememorize the profile of her body, enjoying his unhindered view of utter womanly perfection. He figured that if he was going to torture himself by being in the vicinity of this woman he might as well do it right.

At the fifteen minute mark, Mikaela finally had enough. "You can stop staring, you know," she grumped.

"I know, but I like what I see," Sam replied airily.

"You're distracting me," she pointed out through a clenched jaw. The willpower it was taking to not snap at him, or worse, jump his bones, was seriously doing a number on her patience. She could feel his eyes on her, tracking her, tracing her; she felt his gaze like a physical caress. After three years of near-isolation with the Vautzs, any kind of caress felt like too much. She shifted in her seat, hoping to relax the squirming heat settling low in her stomach, only to find that Sam's eyes smouldered even more fixedly as she moved, his slow, knowing grin almost causing a soft moan to leave her lips.

This was getting absolutely ridiculous.

"Turnabout is fair play, sweetheart," he chuckled, continuing to grin languidly. "You've been distracting me ever since I laid eyes on you."

"You're as horrible with pick up lines now as you were sixteen years ago," Mikaela snorted.

"Oh, I don't know about that... You eventually let me ride you home, didn't you?" he teased, reaching across to brush his knuckles against her cheek. The touch was like fire to them both.

She sucked in a quick breath, pressing her lips into a fine line. "Sam," she breathed in warning, sending him a hard look. Her bubble was still firmly in place. "Don't make this harder than it already is, okay?"

He immediately drew back his hand, masking the look of hurt that flashed across his face. "Sorry." He honestly hadn't meant anything blatantly sexual in the touch that time- it had just been something his body did automatically.

Once again, they slipped into a heavy silence, broken by the growl of the yet-to-be-converted combustion engine of the Ford. They wasted another five minutes in stubborn silence before Sam got tired of feeling like the awkward teenager he once was instead of the confident adult he'd shaped up to be, hoping to engage the beauty next to him in some genuine conversation.

"Lennox will be picking up Bumblebee tomorrow," he said out of the blue.

His voice startled Mikaela for a moment, though she recovered quickly. "You mean Will?"

"Yeah."

"That's good. I was wondering what was going to happen with Bumblebee," she replied, smiling softly. "I'd feel really bad for him if he was stuck in the garage for the entire time you were in Phoenix."

Sam offered a gentle smile. "He'd deserve it, though." The little scheming slag heap.

"I'm sure he would." Mikaela's eyes wandered his way for a second, the ghost of a smile playing across her face. "I bet he's having a panic attack right now, after seeing what kind of truck I drive."

"You could say that," he chuckled. "I think the poor guy just about went on the fritz when he saw your ride."

Mikaela patted the dash of her beloved Ford. "This old thing has been through thick and thin with me and I'm not about to give up on him. Even if I have to special order the gasoline and it costs me an arm and a leg, he's still my baby."

Sam gave the interior of the cab an appraising look for the first time, noting the detail that must have went into restoring such an old junker to the relative beauty it was now. "You did a good job on him," he complimented offhandedly. "I can see why you're fond of this old thing."

"He's been here for me through a lot of things," she sighed, then realized what she said and immediately flinched, pressing her lips together. No need to go dumping on a relative stranger, especially one that was eyeing her like a lion staring down a gazelle.

"I can imagine," Sam murmured, running his hand over the dusty, sun-warmed dash. Staring around the Ford's interior, he could imagine the amount of tears the steering wheel had caught, and the number of hugs the seat belt had offered. He wanted to offer her something too; a hug, maybe some kind words whispered in her ear, but he didn't dare.

Displaying that hardy strength that Sam had always admired, Mikaela shook herself hard, getting her mind on straight. "Okay, enough about that, how about you tell me what's really been going on with you all these years," she said, fixing him with a pointed sidelong glance. "And none of that writer crap you spouted earlier. Tell about the Autobots and what's been happening with their war- I want to know everything."

"This is only a two hour drive," Sam pointed out, ignoring the obvious subject change.

"Give it to me in a nutshell, then," Mikaela insisted.

"In a nutshell, it's no longer just their war. It's ours," Sam sighed, sagging. "Ever since Starscream returned from Cybertron with his mechs, it's been us against them. We've got the world's militaries aiding us, but that's barely enough. Starscream knows how to fight, and he's not concerned with any humans that might get in the way. Us on the other hand…"

Mikaela nodded understandingly. "It sucks when you have to be the good guy," she commented offhandedly.

Sam shook his head. "Somebody has to be. It's just hard reminding everyone to watch where they step so they don't squish one of us. Ironhide has to be reminded constantly."

Mikaela tried to play down her brief smile as she conjured the image of the Autobots hopping around trying to avoid the tiny humans at their feet. "No one's been stepped on so far, I hope."

"No one that I know of, but some of the bots haven't been known for their honesty either," Sam replied, earning a laugh from the woman.

"So the war's still going full tilt, then?" she asked, trying to get back to the war at hand.

"Starscream isn't exactly one to half-ass an attack, so yeah, it's full tilt."

"I thought with Megatron gone that he would have given up," Mikaela reasoned. The few years she'd stuck around with the Autobots, the scattered battles she'd participated in were only the round-up kind, scrapping it out with a few rogue Decepticons kicking up a fuss; Starscream was way off the radars by that time.

"He wants revenge," Sam informed darkly. All the previous sexual innuendo that had hinted in his eyes was long gone, replaced by the steely presence of a hardened soldier, someone who'd seen too much battle to have gone unscathed. "He also wants Earth's resources. Apparently, compared to Cybertron, Earth is a jackpot's worth of energy reserves, enough to keep the 'Cons going for a long time."

"Damn," Mikaela hissed. "How come none of this has been in the news? If it's as bad as you say and Starscream is here with a legion of Decepticons, shouldn't the fights be a little more publicized? I mean, shouldn't us lowly humans be ducking and covering by now, cowering in our bomb shelters or whatever?"

"Remember Mission City?"

She groaned. "Oh God, are you kidding me? They're chalking it all up to-."

"Terrorist attacks? Yeah."

"That was a dumb excuse then, and it's a dumb excuse now."

"And yet the world at large buys it," Sam pointed out.

Mikaela shook her head, smiling wryly. "If you say so."

"What about you? Haven't you been watching the news?"

"Not if I can help it," Mikaela snorted. "And if what you say is true, then I'm not missing much."

Sam considered her words for a moment before nodding. "I suppose you're right, you haven't missed much."

"And what about you?" she asked, darting him a glance. "What part do you play in all this?"

He laughed, but the sound was hollower than before. "I'm a multi-purpose tool," he replied. "Sometimes I'm an ambassador between the Autobots and Earth, sometimes a peacekeeper on base, sometimes tactical recon, sometimes part of an infiltration unit with Bumblebee; there's a dozen other things I do, but they're hardly worth mentioning. It all depends on what they need me for at the time."

"So you're a jack of all trades?"

"Something like that."

"And you're supposed to be a writer too, on top of all that?"

Sam quirked a smile. "I wasn't lying when I said I was a writer." He reached into a bag at his feet and drew out a paperback novel, dog-eared and rumpled from years of abuse. "See? One of my books."

"Huh, no shit," Mikaela breathed, nodding absently. "How do you manage being a writer on top of everything else?"

"I just do. I write whenever I get the chance." His handsome face darkened. "Sometimes I just want to feel like a normal human with a normal job. It doesn't always work so well, but it was worth a shot when I first tried. Now it's just another thing I do…" he trailed off quietly, scrubbing his face with his hand. He startled a bit when he felt a gentle hand on thigh. When his eyes darted up, he knew that Mikaela had seen a brief flash of what he'd really become- not the successful adult, but what Bumblebee had described him as hours earlier; alone, miserable, and frustrated. A fucked-up human being.

"Sam..."

"I'm handling it," he assured. He just didn't mention he wasn't handling it well.

"You always did know how to handle things better than I did," she said softly, squeezing his hand. The shadow that had crossed Sam's face had frightened her for a moment. There was no doubt that the awkwardly sweet and joking teen she'd dated had grown up, but it pained her to think that the world he now lived in didn't allow for the same jokes and smiles anymore. More by instinct than rational thought, Mikaela offered him a smile of wordless comfort. She felt the corded muscles in his leg tense, the touch sending an electric current through both their bodies, before his hand crept out and enwrapped hers in a warm grasp.

"Thanks. I'm trying," he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth to lay a warm kiss to the back of it. Startled by the gesture, she tugged her hand a little too quickly. "Sorry," he amended again.

"No, it's fine. I just wasn't expecting it," Mikaela replied, a bit breathless. Her hand tingled from the brief contact. She hesitated before speaking again, choosing to try and lay down some ground rules now before the rest of the trip drove her insane. "It's really nice to see you again, Sam-,"

"Likewise," he cut in.

"-But, it's like I said before; I can't get mixed up in any of this stuff again. There's old chemistry between us, sure, but that's all- old chemistry. We've both moved on; we have our own lives now." What she didn't say, but was so clearly written across her face was I'm scared to go through it all again.

Sam studied her face for a long minute, reading her expressions carefully. She was holding back and it hurt him to see her hurting on the inside, held back by the one-too-many heartaches Gloria had mentioned. If there ever was a time he wished they were driving in an alien robot turned car so he could reach over and wrap the woman in a tight hug without going off the road, it was now. Still surprised by the strength of the tender urges Mikaela stirred in him, Sam drew back, mentally reigning himself in. He wanted her- God, he wanted her- but it was too soon to be making a move like that. He had to get her to trust him first, to remember that they had been friends once too, not just lovers.

He raised his hands to her innocently. "Okay, sorry, sometimes I can't help myself when there's a beautiful woman around." Especially if that beautiful woman was her.

"You are such a dork," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Just don't get too carried away."

"I'll try not to." Though he didn't plan on stopping himself if he did.

Her smile was soft as she reached out for the radio dial, fiddling with it until she found a relatively good station. It was interesting to watch her play with the stations, going through the range of them before settling for one. How long had it been since he'd even touched a car radio? Or had to drive on his own, for that matter? It was nostalgic and strange to think about, but terribly arousing to see her tapered fingers playing across the dials.

Mentally slapping himself, Sam looked away, forcing his gaze out the window. His restraint was already being sorely tested, anymore more and he's snap. It was such an unaccustomed feeling it be so wildly aroused by the presence of a single woman; it made him slightly uncomfortable to think that he'd never desired another being as hungrily as this. It pissed him off to no end that he'd been sporting a semi-hard on even since he'd laid eyes on the woman.

It took a few moments of regrouping, but then Sam pasted a smile back on to his face, prepared to dredge up his charming self in order to entertain for the next hour and half.

By the time they hit the outskirts of Phoenix, Sam had decided several things. One, he probably now held the world record for hours spent in extreme sexual discomfort with a smile on his face; two, that Mikaela was quite possibly the only woman on the planet he'd happily sport a hard on for several hours with even knowing nothing was going to happen in the end, and three- he was now fully aware of how much he'd missed Mikaela in the years they'd been apart and now wanted her back in his life, even if it was only in a friendship capacity.

Thankfully, he'd accomplished what he considered the first step in getting a missing piece in his life back already. He had Mikaela relaxed, laughing even, as he told her stories of what had been going on for the last sixteen years she'd been absent from his life- nothing too heavy, just the stuff that they could both laugh at. He listed off all the new Autobots that had landed and their special "quirks"- like Wheeljack and his explosions, Prowl and his logic, Bluestreak and his talking, Red Alert and his paranoia, the Twins with their practical jokes, and Perceptor with his sciences…

"Are you serious?" Mikaela gasped as Sam related one particular story, one hand covering her gaping mouth as she divided her attention between incredulity and navigating the streets of the busy city centre.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wouldn't lie about something like that," he replied. "I mean, look at me- do you really think I'd shoot up half a foot without extraterrestrial help?"

"Oh my god…" her eyes were wide as they traced his figure carefully, taking in the changes that had occurred- he was definitely taller, broader, both easily attributable to time, but not to the extent that they had occurred. "You mean Perceptor just injected you with growth hormones… without your consent…? Are you frigging kidding me?!"

"Wish I was," Sam replied with a grimace as he remembered the incident. "He was new to the planet and hadn't quite caught on to the whole 'informed consent' thing amongst us humans- I don't think he even caught on that we were sentient by then. All I know is one moment I'm sleeping in my quarters and the next I'm strapped to a table being injected with hell knows what." One of the worse nights of his life, save the night he realized the chick he'd just slept with was actually Bluestreak.

"I bet Prime was pretty mad," Mikaela reasoned. She herself was feeling a little righteously piqued in Sam's defence. After an hour and half of being regaled with stories of the years gone by, she was feeling quite a bit more at ease with the man, more willing to be incensed in his defence.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so pissed," Sam informed her. "For that matter, I don't think I've ever seen Bumblebee so mad either. It was quite the fiasco."

"I hope he got what was coming to him," she snorted indelicately, nudging into the lane indicated by Sam as they neared the hotel he had reservations with. "Ugh! I can't believe someone would just strap you down and experiment on you like that! Like you were some- some guinea pig!"

He shrugged, feeling smug that he had managed to worm her on to his side after two hours of wheedling with his stories. "Yeah, Perceptor got what was coming to him, but that was years ago. Everything's fine now. He's more than made up for the incident by helping us with other stuff. And I'm not exactly complaining about the height increase."

"I bet." Mikaela rolled her eyes, turning into the half-circle drop-off area in front of the hotel she'd been directed to. Glancing out the window at it, she could help but feel extremely… underdressed, even if she was just sitting out front. It was a ritzy place, one of those hotels that catered to the rich, all gold filigree and marble walls, silk and satin textures everywhere. "You sure we're in the right place?"

He grimaced, staring out at the monstrosity of a building. "Unfortunately…"

Spotting the valets eyeing her ancient truck with looks of abject horror of the ancient travesty that just rolled in, Mikaela pursed her lips, glaring back at them. "Okay, well, here's your stop, and I got you here before five so you didn't miss your reservation. Good luck with your book signing and everything else…"

"Have dinner with me," Sam suddenly blurted. He wanted her to stay.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me," he repeated, this time slower. "Please. It'd be my way of thanking you."

"You don't need to thank me, really," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. If she stayed, she had a feeling her self-control would run out by the time dessert rolled around.

"Then have dinner with me so we can talk a little longer," Sam offered, looking like he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

She looked down at herself- grubby shirt, dusty shorts, battered shoes. "I'm not dressed for dinner in a place like this," she pointed out.

Sam eased himself across the minute distance between them, testing the waters carefully as he touched her cheek with one hand and leaned in with his most charming smile. "You'll be the most beautiful woman in there, I promise." She could have been wearing a paper sack and still have been beautiful. When she rolled her eyes, he pressed on. "We'll get a private booth for just the two of us, so it won't matter what we're wearing. I'll roll in the dirt for you so you won't be the worst dressed person there." The warmth of his hand was distracting her. His lame, joking offer, so much like the old Sam she knew, made her giggle a bit. He grinned and pressed a breath closer. "You, me, for old time's sake? Just dinner."

"Just dinner," she repeated, measuring the words. She searched the sincerity in Sam's eyes and found that he honestly wanted her there. She was surprised to find that she honestly wanted to stay, too- for dinner, at least. "Fine, just dinner, but then I have to go."

Before he could help himself, Sam flashed a smile full of teeth, and then closed the distance between their mouths.

It wasn't like their kiss in the garage, which had barely been a touch; this was a kiss that made their hearts flutter, their skin heat up, and their lower bodies curl with instant sexual awareness of each other. Sam's lips, first tentative against hers, turned firm the moment a tiny gasp drifted from Mikaela's soft mouth, drawing on her lips and tongue to dance with his. He'd only meant to kiss her in thanks, a spontaneous move he'd hardly given thought to, but the feel of her lips on his wiped his tiny organic brain clean.

Without warning, Mikaela's hands came up to brace against his shoulders, her fingers digging into the firm, hot skin as she dragged him closer. She hadn't been expecting the kiss. Hell, she hadn't been expecting the instant toe-curling, seat-wetting, spontaneously-come-on-the-spot feeling of Sam's mouth on hers, but the moment she had a taste of it, she didn't want to let go. She'd forgotten what it was like to be so aroused by one person that it felt like she was going to come out of her own skin, and they'd barely touched so far!

Sam grinned, a little desperate and lightheaded himself as he acquiesced to her demands to draw him closer, one arm looping around her to strain her body against the seatbelt.

The kiss left the taste of sex on their tongues, hot, spicy, and a little out of control.

A nervous rap at the window had them breaking apart.

"Uh… sir, ma'am, would you like me to take your vehicle?" the young, and slightly flustered, valet asked.

Sam grinned at the kid, tugging the keys from the ignition before Mikaela could shake herself out of her daze. He was out the door and pressing the keys into the kid's hands before anyone could blink, grabbing his two bags in one arm and circling around the Ford to unbuckle and gather Mikaela in the other. As if in second nature, he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed her heated body to his side.

"Thanks," he called back to the valet. "There's five buck on the seat for you." With Mikaela snug against him so she couldn't run even if she tried, he led the way into the overdone hotel, fully intending to treat the woman next to him to dinner, and hopefully afterwards dessert.