Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…

Warnings: Unbetaed.

Pairing: Mirage/Hound

SIDE NOTE: Despite their presence still being known in this story, I have decided to place my Mahikashi bits into it's own story so that I can make it into its own full length piece. (Read AN in 'Mahikashi' story for details…)

AN: Sideslip, Eikuu Hyo, Fianna9, and TfJazz, thank you all so much for taking the time to not only read and appreciate my story bits, but also for reviewing on them. This is from the 'Warmth' AU starring Mirage and Hound. I hope you all like it!

Prompt: Watcher

Hound was not sure what to make of this newest mech, this silent enigma with his cold expression and sharp optics, frame near slick as his venomous tongue and his armor glowing as though touched by Primus himself. This mech, Mirage he'd been told, was special ops, one of the best right under Jazz himself, and as such as illusive as they came. Yet, Hound could not shake the feeling that he was missing something about the mech, that despite his skills he could not see far enough to something dark and unspeakably sad, like a silent echo beneath empty skies.

Sometimes, when he thought no one would notice, he'd sneak a glance towards the mysterious mech, hidden away in his dark corner from everyone else, and wonder why someone like him, so cold and bitter, would willingly join those in the rec room when he obviously held no interest in socializing with them. It was strange, an inconsistency in behavior that puzzled Hound endlessly, made him eager to understand this new mech as he strove to do with all the mechs he worked with. But…

There was also something unfathomably frightening about him. Something in the way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he stared into ones optics and seemed to know what lay within. It was not because he had once been a Tower's noble either, for status had never been an obstacle for the tracker. There was just something about Mirage that made Hound uneasy, as though he knew intuitively that there was danger hidden within those blue depths.

And now those icy-blue optics had caught his own, steady, cold, leaving Hound too entranced by the intensity of that gaze to look away even as he inwardly writhed at the prickling on his armor. And it wasn't the pleasant kind of tingle either, but the kind you get just before a plasma gun is shot off in your face.

Mirage mouth twitched and Hound flinched away.

Something was off about him.

Hound was tense, plating tingling, like small micro-bots crawling into the seams of his armor or fine-tipped claws lightly skimming down his chassis, making him want to squirm and writhe at the sensations. But he resisted the temptation of doing so. He was sure he was being watched, and he did want the intruder to know he could sense him.

Or maybe the intruder already knew.

He had been trying to pinpoint the intruder for some time, using his highly acute sense of smell to track the faintest scents in the air. But all that had been in vain, for he realized shortly after that whoever was hidden within the room was standing down shift of the venting air circulating through the small space in such a way that detection by scent was near impossible. The intruder's scent was too light; it easily blended with the mild scents that flowed from the vents, giving no indication as to a potential suspect.

However, he could conclude one thing from the mixture of scents. The individual hidden somewhere just out of his reach was an Autobot. He did not know if that reassured him of his own safety- or made him feel more uncomfortable.

It was a well known fact that Jazz was not a normal mech, that there had always been something off about him, something in the way he stared at anyone who passed him, and especially at Prowl. It was not that he was not a nice bot, because he was one of the most agreeable ones he could think of so long as he'd not been away from the SIC for too long, but there was just so many unknowns about the saboteur.

Quite literally, the bot had just come waltzing into the control center at Prowl's side shortly after the SIC's disappearance and begun to make small talk with the Prime, The Prime, as though they'd been friends their entire functioning. Scared the pit out of the crew, and Red Alert had suffered from a glitch at how laid-back Prowl had been about this unknown variable being in such close contact with their leader. Prime, for his part, merely smiled, as he was known to do in those sorts of situations, and took the unknown bot's hand in greeting before inquiring Prowl as to his status.

Prowl had confirmed his health and his activities prior to boarding the Ark and then instructed Jazz to do the same.

Things had only gotten weirder from there.

Soon, various bots of all shapes and sizes had begun to appear from pit knows where, rallying together under Jazz's leadership and filling a new division freshly created in the Autobot's chain of command; the Special Operations Division, A.K.A, Special Ops.

The new division undoubtedly pulled its weight, having finally put the Autobots on par with the Decepticon's wide array of sabotage technology, but some of its members were down right terrifying at the best of times. Their personality spectrums spanned from the one known as Bumblebee, with his good cheer and kind smiles, to Mirage, with his cold expression and biting words. However, they all shared one key attribute that made them offsetting to many: their optics, those intense, sharp stares that simply ravaged the spark. There was just something dangerous about them.

And now, as so many times since the arrival of those new mechs, Hound could feel the intensity of one of those stares upon him, watching him in a way that could be perceived as threatening- though it was not quite like that, but more like an apex predator trying to decipher the worth of hunting potential prey. Hound could not say the sensation frightened him, but that did not make it any less unnerving.

A particular shift in air movement caught Hound's attention, the sudden gush of scent that was not in uniform with the steady current rippling over his sensitive net grid. He recognized the familiar mix of cool, crisp metal and muted wax immediately.

"Mirage. What are you doing here?" Just as the last word slipped from his glossa, the cool, smooth blade of a dagger was pressed to his throat in warning, pressing, but not enough to cut the metal beneath; a hairsbreadth away from death.

The scent that had at one point been so mild and near nonexistent was now overpowering, now a mixture of cool metal, mild wax, and startlingly, heat vapor, something Hound had never smelt on this particular bot before. It was as though ice was turning directly to steam, building up inside the mech's chassis. An odd thought, one on which Hound did not dwell.

"Jazz said not to kill you." The other said evenly, his soft voice holding no inflection, and with the mech's invisibility programs activated, Hound had naught an expression to decipher from. Not that the other's expression often changed anyway, but even just seeing the other's face would have put a wide array of his worries at ease.

There was a long, awkward silence, for Hound at least, as he attempted to put two and two together, finding he had absolutely no idea as to why this was all happening in the first place. It crossed his thoughts to ask Mirage 'why', as in, 'why are you doing this in the first place', but in light of the previous statement, wisely decided against it. This mech did not seem to be riding on all four tires, if one knew what he meant.

Mirage must have seen the bewildered, and slightly alarmed, look across the tracker's face though, because he continued with the same even tone as before. "He said I'd regret it." With that the invisible bot took the dagger's edge away from the other's neck cables so that the other could swallow the dryness that had encroached within his throat, but did not move away, as though not quite sure himself why he was doing this, any of this, in the first place. "I want to believe him. That he has found a cure to our ailment."

That caught Hound's attention. "Ailment?"

Finally, a flicker of something, and Hound knew the other was beginning to gradually let his cloaking device fade away, beginning to relax. In turn, be it sheer instinct to the other's drop in defensiveness or some unexplainable trust in the other mech, Hound relaxed as well. It seemed to be enough.

They stayed that way for longer than either of them cared to keep track, Hound still lying prone on his berth, now completely at ease and beginning to once more dose off despite the other's presence, and Mirage's half visible silhouette sitting regally beside the other, not looking at Hound, but off into the room corner. It was strange, like this had always been their state of being, this companionable feeling of understanding.

It was a very strange thing to witness, the silent acceptance between tracker and predator.

Hound is not sure when it had occurred, but sometime during the night he must have slipped into recharge, because when next he came into awareness the other's scent had lingered away into a faint wisp of cool metal and faded wax. And for some reason, Hound was not pleased to have woken up alone.

With a groan, Hound rubbed at his faceplates with the grogginess of someone who'd not recharged well the night previous and wondered silently if it had all just been a trick of his processors, and if he was just incoherent enough to be imagining the scent still lingering in his sensory net, because it all seemed just to surreal to have been true.

Mirage: cold, silver-tongued, prim and proper Mirage sitting beside him all night as he slipped into recharge. Yeah, defiantly a recharge flex.

So with a stretch and an endearing yawn bordering on light laughter, Hound fully woke to the world and wondered briefly why the berth beside him was so cold- and why his spark seemed to warm at the cool metal beneath his hand.

AN: Oh, Hound and Mirage are so fluffy, even though Mirage was being all cold and saying things like 'Jazz said not to kill you.' I hope when next I write about them they will get to snuggle properly!

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