SOTHISTOTALLYISN'TAFILLERIJUST...needed a way for Miri to take a minute and process her fears.
I also alluded to one of my absolute FAVE BABES in the series, a familiar grease-monkey we all know and love. I fully intend to incorporate Michaela into this story well beyond her appearances in the series, simply because she's AMAZING AND SO UNDERUSED. I want her to be beside Miri as a friend and see her as a mentor kind of (if Miri is capable of mentoring a plant much less another human) because let's be REAL - MICHAELA IS TOTALLY WITH SAM AS LONG AS SHE IS FOR THE AUTOBOTS. DUH.
Errors on Megs and Starscream because it just makes sense. Love ya'll and love hearing from your beautiful faces. xoxoxo
Miri was mildly thankful she hadn't seen Optimus again, instead fully absorbed into the guilty pleasure of her laptop. None of the soldiers at either side of her had stirred from her discussion with the officer, leaving her in relative silence, nothing but the Peterbilt and her glowing MacBook screen to keep her company. The only audible noise was the soft snores of resting men and women, and the thrum of the plane's engines.
Once the laptop's battery had drained, she'd been left in the silence by herself, to study her whereabouts. It became very apparent, very quickly, that she had no idea where she was - and no idea who she was with. Sure, they were military men and women, though her nerves weren't waylaid at the amount of unknowns set before her. She was thousands of feet in the air, pointed in a direction that was hopefully Washington D.C., aboard a vessel carrying top-secret military intel.
I might as well be an extra in Mission Impossible for God sakes...She tried not to worry her stomach into a sour knot as she tied her curls back into a high bun.
Popping a painkiller to kill the throbbing that had set in behind her eyes, Miri was startled awake sometime later in her seat. Having no idea how long she'd been asleep, she found herself looking into the face of Santos, who was looking like he just woke as well. He ran a hand through his hair and was working into his uniform jacket when he registered her stare, giving her a half smile that belied his disheveled state.
"Sorry, " he said quickly, thumbing to the ramp of the plane, which was currently lowering with a loud mechanical whine that she was surprised she'd been able to ignore in subconscious bliss, "but we're unloading. Should get your stuff around." He dipped into a squat, and within a swipe of his hand, had her bag deposited on the bench beside her.
Her eyes snapped from the bag back to the man. "What time is it?" He picked up her luggage and lifted it over his shoulder, as if it were nothing more than routine gear. Hustling out of her harness, Miri popped to a stand beside him, takin her purse and computer bag in hand.
"Later than we thought; we're behind," he gave the semi's fender a smack with the back of his hand as they passed, Miri doing her best to keep her attention diverted to her feet. "We gotta get you settled in and then debrief at the Pent for tomorrow's meeting..." his tone fell away beneath the rising throttle of the semi, its throaty growl bouncing of the transport's confining walls like a contained thunder.
They came down the ramp, and Miri pulled to a stop, realizing that it was suddenly dusk. Her eyes found the horizon, where the sky was painted a brilliant canvas of sienna, pink, and purple as the sun began to dip towards the skyline of buildings in the distance. She blinked a few times, remembering that she'd caught just a glimpse of the morning sunrise at her country home, her mother and father making coffee in the kitchen merely a few hours earlier. Now, she was halfway across the continental US, staring at the day's end.
She swallowed a lump which had sprouted on the back of her tongue. She flinched when someone came up beside her, gently taking her elbow to escort her away from the ramp. One look over her shoulder told her it was to make way for the Peterbilt, though Lennox's grasp on her arm was determined as he marched her to an unmarked Humvee, a phone cradled between his collarbone and ear. He was speaking in hushed, professional tones, and Miri was too distracted to catch the full gist of his conversation before being nodded into the vehicle.
Miri took her seat, suddenly noticing that her luggage had somehow, magically, appeared inside the vehicle beside her. Santos had to have passed it to someone else, because she watched him slow his jog to a stop beside the Peterbilt, pulling himself up onto the step to rap his knuckles on the window. She squinted for another glimpse of Optimus, but couldn't see inside the darkened cab. Her stomach deflated a little, realizing that she wouldn't see him again.
Reaching into her purse she felt around for her phone, retrieving it within a matter of seconds. Lighting the screen she found a few texts, and two missed calls from her mother. Far too exhausted to fathom a conversation with her mother, she bit the inside of her cheek and responded to August's text, I'm here and I'm safe. Talk tomorrow. Before slipping the phone back into her purse, she turned on her phone's location signal, and drummed her fingertips on the back of the phone, contemplative.
Hearing the truck's front doors slam into place as it took on more passengers, she glanced out the vehicle's window, which had thankfully been left undarkened for the drive. Beneath her, she felt the Humvee kick to life, shifting out of park as the wheels bit against the pavement. She braced herself in the seat, rested her head against the seatback, and considered the vehicle's roof overhead.
Well, here goes nothing, was the only thing she could think that matched ball of anxiety sitting in the pit of her gut.
. . .
The drive into the city went by smoothly, the military vehicle invoking a mysterious superpower that allowed it to dodge any and all bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic they'd encountered. Whoever was driving was an expert at maneuverability and route determination, because Miri couldn't even keep track of all the turns and side-detours they'd taken away from the freeway.
It had been a little over an hour since they'd left the tarmac when they pulled up to her accommodations, only to find that more members of the military had already been stationed outside the hotel's front door. Unwilling to uproot her butt from the Humvee without further direction, she watched as the Major engaged in conversation with what appeared to be the hotel's manager, while also gesturing to the pair of armed soldiers. They hustled over, in perfect posture, their sidearms more than visible.
They talked, Lennox gesturing multiple times to the vehicle she hadn't retreated from. The expressions each of the men gave were mixed; she couldn't tell if her arrival had been convenient, late, or a mixture of both. Her palms began to slick with nervous moisture, and she felt anxious heat begin to curl up her spine, causing perspiration to begin forming between her shoulders. She cursed the fact she'd opted for a push-up instead of her usual sports bra, suddenly feeling unable to breathe fully.
Her spine almost snapped to attention when Lennox moved away from the men, turning fully to her door. He waved her to come out, but before she could even pop the latch, the opposite door on the vehicle opened - and Santos reached inside, plucking her bag from the seat. For a moment Miri was torn between looking at him and now Lennox, who offered a hand and was peering down into the transport, sunglasses on his head.
Miri considered his hand for a beat. "Everything's ready for you," he said smoothly. "We'll do a quick recon of your room and then I gotta take off. Prime and I are due for a briefing, and we've already kept the JCS administration waiting." While he was in no way directing their lack of schedule adherence on her, Miri felt a sudden bolt of energy spike through her legs, propelling her to take his hand and escort herself from the vehicle.
"You really don't have to walk me up," she shrugged a shoulder, gesturing to the door with a hand. "Really, I can find my way -" she was interrupted when Lennox gently took her forearm in his hand, gave her a lifted smile, and shook his head, guiding her past the guards who resumed their post outside the hotel's front door. She hardly had time to consider them before she was whisked inside.
"Standard protocol," was all Lennox said, nodding and lifting a hand in a wave of greeting to those behind the front desk. Then, using two fingers, he tipped her chin towards him and down, so she was glancing at the floor as they walked. "We don't have subpoenas for camera footage yet, so please keep your face hidden," was his whisper as he dropped his sunglasses over his eye, reaching over his breast pocket to tear the badge containing his name.
A punch of fear gripped her heart, stabbing an almost drowning sense of panic into her throat. "Hidden?" She squeaked, "Lennox -" she was interrupted by the ding of the elevator before them, the car halting to a level stop as Lennox slowed their pair. Miri was only half aware of the soldiers in step behind them when the doors parted, revealing Epps and another passenger to his right - a stunning brunette with full lips, glowing skin, and youthful eyes. Dressed in fashion boots, skinny jeans, and a half jacket and tank top, her hair was piled into a high pony tail that accentuated her cheekbones.
Epps said nothing, nodded to Lennox, and grabbed the younger girls arm just as Lennox held hers. Miri craned her next to watch them pass, the girl looking no more than high school age as she was paraded down the hallway. She didn't seem to hesitate, kept an easy gate, and didn't seem nearly as concerned as Miri did watching her leave - her compliance, actually, was stunning.
Frowning, her brows knitted into a ball of wrinkled confusion. "Major?" her tone was demanding, "what is he doing with that kid?" She emphasized the girl's appearance, fully aware that she was a matured woman, though not at all liking the fact that a military officer - of whom she was now associated - had grabbed a her arm and evicted the elevator without word.
Hesitation prickled her skin as Lennox guided her onto the car. "Don't worry about it," he chided her as professionally as Miri had ever heard, "everything's fine. Michaela is just a liaison; she's got business to clear with the JCS on behalf of NEST too." He left the statement hanging between them intentionally vague, which did little to settle Miri's already tightened nerves. A liaison that young? Something didn't entire add up, but she clamped her jaw closed.
Her defense walls were building swiftly as he eyes scanned the hallway outside the car, watching the other soldiers fall into line on either side of the door. With a ding, the elevator doors began to close with a mechanical rumble, suddenly boxing Miri into intimate space with Lennox. The wheels of her brain was spinning and her eyes found the countdown of floors, watching as they ticked off one by one, finally leveling at the third floor.
The doors parted, and Lennox didn't reach for her arm. Instead he waved her forward, digging in a leg pocket while approaching the door. "This hotel is under contract with the Fed to provide accommodations for all kinds of foreign and domestic guests," he slid the car, the light flashed green, and he opened the door with a strong arm. "Oil sheiks, celebrities, and global ambassadors have stayed here. They have impeccable security and top of the line technology."
She considered the door's entry for only a beat before looking at Lennox. "Something tells me that all those people aren't nearly as big as the secret you're keeping from me," at his half smile, she exhaled a deep breath. "Forgive me, Major, but -"
He put up a hand. "Will's fine," he shrugged, "when we're not official." He stepped into the door, holding it open for her. "And, trust me - I know you're anxious. My wife was too when I took this job. There's a lot we can't tell you, but trust me, everything is legitimate. I promise, we're as safe and over-the-table as we can be." He offered her a placating expression, and Miri stepped by him, depositing her bags beside the door as she took in the room.
It was like stepping through a magazine, the room an almost immaculate white with a feature wall of the perfect color turquoise she'd ever seen. A teakwood bed with perfectly-pressed linens sat in the middle of the room, with matching side tables. A huge, overly-comfortable chair sat in the corner, with a huge desk and designer chair empty and awaiting use. The entire space smelled clean, with a hint of essential oils pulling warmth into Miri's otherwise frazzled muscles. She'd never stayed in used the bathroom of five-star hotel, much less been offered a room.
Coming about on her heel, she swallowed a sigh and approached him again, gently taking the key from his outstretched hand. He chuckled at her as she looked to her boots, batting aside a curl that had fallen from her messy knot. "I don't mean to be unappreciative, but - I'm just looking out for my family. Kinda feels like one of those movies where the military ends up with an end-of-the-world vibe and some poor, defenseless woman caught in the middle," she looked around the room and slipped the keycard into her pocket. "And no offense, but, you ain't James Bond by any stretch."
Miri could see that the officer was trying to stifle a laugh, a muscle in his jaw flexing to remain professional and stalwart. He stood in front of her, lifted a knowing brow, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "Like I said, I get it. You aren't alone, Miri." He then clapped her shoulder with a hand, taking a few steps backward. "Room service is on Uncle Sam, so order whatever you need. A list of contacts is on the table, be ready by oh-six-hundred, six in the morning. Luggage is on the way up. Someone from NEST will come pick you up early." He pointed at her. "Relax. Call your family, take a shower. You're as safe as I can make you, Miss Otten," his tone was teasing as he emphasized her last name. "Good night."
She gave him a small wave. "Good night, Will," she stepped forward to the door as he stepped out of it, taking the door in a hand. She watched him jog to the elevator, his phone already pressed to his ear. He playfully saluted her as he boarded, and pressed the appropriate floor button. Within seconds it dang, and the doors closed, carrying Lennox away.
Miri turned away, kicking the door closed lightly with her booted foot. She picked up her bags, deposited them on the bed, the worked out of her cowboy boots. Tippin them over, she flopped face first onto the bed, bury her face into the padded mattress and fresh linens. Inhaling a deep breathe, she was overcome with the scent of essential oils, forcing herself to roll over onto her back to stare up at the ceiling.
It was quiet - she hadn't been immersed in such silence in years. It ebbed at the corners of her mind, and suddenly she felt the fingers of fear and uncertainty begin to claw over her brain, taking her thoughts captive. When a mounting rise found her pulse, she sat up, turned over onto her stomach, and reached for the beside phone, eyes scanning for the front desk.
She ordered a glorious dinner of carbs and seafood, as well as an assortment of bath salts and bubbles for the garden tub she'd discovered in her suite's bathroom. It took less than five minutes for her to set up her MacBook to charge and unpack her professional clothes, hanging them in the closet. Much to her surprised she'd discovered a steamer and iron in the space, thankful that she wouldn't have to settle for a wrinkled appearance in the morning.
Within ten minutes she'd been set up in the room - the bathroom was strewn full of her cosmetics and toiletries, and she'd wrapped herself in the stunning satin robe provided in the bathroom. The TV she'd clicked on to a sitcom rerun, thankful for the background noise as she'd prepared to run bathwater in the tub. Picking up her pile of discarded clothes, she deposited them on the chair when there was knock at the door, signaling room service. She accepted her items, the smell of hot pasta and seafood pounding hunger into the cavern of her stomach.
She ate while seated on the tub's edge, watching the bath run writhingly-hot water scented with lavender, and overflowing with bubbles. Giddy excitement snuck up her spine, and a smile painted her lips - if this was government living, then she was in for the long haul, because she'd never stayed at a hotel with such luxury at her fingertips. It felt like a vacation more than the beginning of her family's future, a thought that snatched all giddiness from the atmosphere. Suddenly she wasn't hungry, her stomach filled with a solid, cold rock of realization.
Dinner forgotten, she dropped into the tub, feeling alone and morbid at her forgetfulness of the trip's importance. Her mother would be pacing with worry across the hotel floor, her father trying to placate his wife with reason - she'd seen it happen before. Any big endeavor had her family on edge and apprehensive, and that's when they'd traveled together. She couldn't imagine the mounting pressure in her shoulders getting heavier, though the burden to do well by her family was beginning to give her a migraine. Her parents trusted her with their livelihood, everything her father had sacrificed for - and she was taking a bath.
She batted at a mound of bubbles with her hand, a frown stitching her features. "Stop thinking about it," she muttered to her reflection, which was more than visible across the bathroom in the adjacent mirror, which was the full size and length of the wall. "You're going to psyche yourself out. One day at a time. Tomorrow will have enough worry of its own," her gaze dropped to the bubbles before her.
Plugging her nose, she dipped beneath the surface of the bath, leaving the rest of the world - and her fears - outside her underwater world.