Something in the way she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don't want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

- The Beatles: Something -

Ironhide didn't knock before opening the door. He never did, unless he knew Optimus had visitors.

Well. A very specific visitor. The one Optimus was waiting for right now.

"Sideswipe reports that Elita's here, Prime," his bodyguard said gruffly. Ironhide's voice was always gruff these days. It worried Optimus slightly – he could remember a time not too long ago when the red mech laughed as much as he grouched, and his voice had been far more melodious back then. But Ironhide wasn't talking about it, and Optimus wouldn't push.

"Good!" The lightwing flies in his stomach multiplied. "Have him bring her in, please."

Ironhide opened the door, stepping inside his office. "Ya might want ta meet her elsewhere, Prime. This place is nice, but it's kinda cluttered."

Optimus blinked, then looked down at his desk. "Um. You're right about that." He smiled sheepishly. "My quarters, then?"

Ironhide nodded and raised a hand to his audial. "Bring her ta the Prime's quarters, Sideswipe. We're comin'."

"Thank you, old friend." Optimus stood and walked around his desk to join his bodyguard. He smiled at the shorter mech. "Tell me, have you thought more about Chromia? Shall I ask Elita to bring her next time?"

"I don't fraternize while on duty," Ironhide replied, his ever-vigilant optics scanning the hallway as they walked. "Besides, I'm sure she's a nice femme, but she ain't fer me. And I ain't fer her."

Ironhide was being deliberately evasive, Optimus was sure of it. But the mech could be remarkably stubborn when he wanted to, so if he wasn't talking, then he wasn't talking.

Still, giving it one more try probably wouldn't hurt.

"If you are sure," he replied. "But you will tell me if there is anything else I can do for you in that aspect, all right?"

Ironhide glanced up at him. "Ain't no such doin', Prime. Sometimes sparks just work the way they want to, regardless of what we want. You focus on yer own romantic interest and stop worryin' about mine."

Well, that was as politely phrased a 'slag off' as Optimus had ever heard.

Ironhide nodded at Sunstreaker, in position outside the door, then entered the Prime's personal quarters. Never mind that Sideswipe was already inside, and Sunstreaker would have warned them if anything was amiss – Ironhide insisted on making his own checks. It was reassuring, in a way, but sometimes Optimus just wanted to barrel past him and run inside.

Especially when Elita was waiting.

Fortunately, it was mere moments before the door opened again and Ironhide beckoned him inside. "They're in the sittin' room, waitin' fer ya."

He practically elbowed past Ironhide to get into his own quarters.

Elita was in there. Waiting for him.

It still felt surreal.

Especially when he saw that long-legged, almost glowing form standing up from the couch and gliding towards him.

"Hello, Optimus." Her voice was a purr.

"Elita." He raised his arms and she stepped right into them, as if she had been created to fit there. "Hello, my love."

She returned his embrace, before stepping back and smiling up at him. "You look tired. Have you been working too hard again?" She turned her head to look at the red mech who'd followed Optimus into the room. "Ironhide, has he been working too hard again?"

"Course he has," Ironhide replied gruffly. "Always does." Ironhide nodded at Sideswipe, and the red warrior saluted and left the room. "If ya can get him ta stop pushin' himself, punishin' himself, I'd appreciate it."

"He may be too stubborn, even for me," Elita replied with a light laugh. "But I'll certainly do my best."

Optimus couldn't take his optics off her.

Elita took his hand and pulled him to the couch. "So tell me, Ironhide, how's Iacon holding up?"

"You know, you can ask me that," Optimus pointed out. "I'm supposed to know these things."

"Yes, but you'll just tell me the stuff you think I need to know, and try to shield me from the evil reality," Elita shot back. "Ironhide will give me the truth. Oh, for Primus' sake, Ironhide, sit down. I'm getting a crick in my neck from looking at you."

Ironhide hesitated, then sat down. "We're holdin' on. Prowl could probably give ya a better estimate than me. But with him on leave, I'd say… We're holdin' on, but we ain't gonna win like this. The 'Cons are pressin' us too hard, too fast, there are too many civilians floodin' Iacon, and we're gonna see shortages of everythin' soon."

"It's not as bad as all that," Optimus protested. He wanted – needed – for there to be light at the end of the tunnel. "Prowl's given me several likely scenarios, based on what we or the Decepticons do next, and we hold Iacon quite well in several of them." He didn't add that Prowl had been deliberately vague on their long-term prospects.

"That fits with what I've seen," Elita sighed. "They're pushing us harder and harder." She turned a sudden sharp look on Optimus. "Wait, Prowl's on leave?"

"For a little while more, yes. Creator's leave." Optimus smiled as he shared what had been the happiest news he'd received in ages. "He and Jazz have adopted Bluestreak."

"Together? Oh, that is happy news." Elita smiled and leaned against Optimus. "I knew those two were made for each other."

"Jazz is over the moon." Ironhide grinned. "Ya should've seen him in the commissary the other day. He was beamin', that little bit hangin' on to his shoulders. He's the happiest I think I've ever seen him."

"I want to meet the bitlet," Elita decided, "when they'll let me. I understand he's traumatized."

"Being the only one ta survive city-wide destruction would do that ta any mech." Ironhide sounded grim.

"I'm sure they'll only be too happy to show him off once he's settled a bit." Optimus nuzzled Elita's cheek. "How long can you stay today?"

"I left my contingent in Chromia's capable hands, with strict orders to lay low until I return." She smiled mischievously. "I also said I won't return until tomorrow at the earliest."

Optimus stared at her. Then he grinned.

Ironhide stood. "I'll make a sweep of yer berthroom."

Elita waited until Ironhide was out of audial range. "He really is conscientious, isn't he?"

"He'll have a guard posted at my balcony tonight, and another at the door," Optimus replied, nuzzling her again. "Maybe even someone posted inside the apartment. I hope you aren't shy."

"I hope the guards are not easily embarrassed, whoever they are." Her grin was positively wicked. "I aim to make you scream my name."

Optimus groaned as her tone made heat flare up his spinal strut. "Screaming may happen."

Then, finally, he kissed her.

It was no chaste thing. In fact, Optimus managed to think, it was a good thing his berthroom was just one door away. Because that was as far as they were going to get. If it hadn't been for Ironhide still being in the apartment, they wouldn't even have managed to leave the couch.

As it was, the sound of Ironhide giving a discrete hum behind them was enough to prompt Optimus to let Elita move away slightly.

"Berthroom's clear," Ironhide said. He didn't look at them. "I'll… leave ya with the twins. Trailbreaker'll be out on yer balcony, Prime."

Elita tilted her head, looked at Ironhide sharply. Optimus knew her well enough to recognize the look that she got whenever she discovered a mystery that she just had to unravel, but he wasn't exactly keen to figure out what it was about his bodyguard that had caught his lover's attention.

Not when said lover was heating up so wonderfully in his arms, cooling fans kicked on low and vents speeding up.

"Thank you, Ironhide," he managed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He waited until the door closed behind his bodyguard, then scooped up a giggling Elita and carried her to the berthroom.

Later, when their plating was cooling back down with little ticks and pings, he remembered that look. Elita was lying across his chest, where she'd settled earlier, and Optimus was running his fingers up and down her back. They were both close to recharge, but not there yet. He shifted to put an arm under his head, changing the angle so he could look at her.

"'Lita, love?"

"Hmm?" She sounded half in recharge already. It was adorable.

"Why were you looking at Ironhide like that earlier?"

"Looking at – oh! That." She lifted her head slightly until she could rest her chin on his chest and look him in the optics. "Let me ask you something first. Did you talk to him about Chromia?"

"I did. He politely declined. Said he'd heard about her and they'd be wrong for each other."

She chuckled. "Chromia said much the same thing. But I realized today that they have different reasons."

"Oh?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Chromia said, and this is verbatim, so you'll have to pardon the… interesting language." Her voice turned slightly more gravelly, dipped into a slightly lower register, changed just enough that he could recognize the imitation. "He'd be real fun in the berth, I bet he has stamina to die for and that aft may be Primus' gift to anyone with optics, but we're too similar, 'Lita. We'd make more fireworks than a fistful of inebriated seekers at a Towers coming-of-age party, and then we'd try so hard to frag each other into submission that we'd end up starting another war just to settle it."

Optimus laughed. Loudly. He could see the shadow of Trailbreaker turning his head slightly out on the balcony. "Well, that's an interesting summary. So if that's her point of view, what of Ironhide?"

Uncharacteristically, she hesitated. Optimus hadn't known Elita to do anything but meet any challenge head-on. To look so apprehensive over a simple conversation was unlike her. "Has he… said anything to you?"

"About Chromia?" He shook his head. "Not beyond what I've already said. But I've been trying not to pry."

"Nothing about his feelings?" She slid up to rest her head on his shoulder.

"He told me to butt out of them." Optimus frowned. "Now that I think about it, that's not really like him."

"Maybe, but it fits with my theory."

He stroked her cheek. "What theory, dearspark?"

"That the reason Ironhide won't date Chromia is because he loves someone else. And that those feelings aren't reciprocated."

Optimus blinked. That, he hadn't seen coming. "He loves someone? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be without downright asking him," she replied, "and before you ask, no, I won't do that. It's not my place to do so." She shifted, snuggling closer. "Are you sure he hasn't said anything?"

Optimus shifted as well, dropping his head back against the berth and putting both arms around his lover. He went over the last handful of conversations he'd had with the weapons specialist.

…huh.

"I think you're right," he said in surprise. "He's been saying things that could indicate something like that lately."

"Things like?" Elita prompted.

"Like… how not everyone's lucky enough to have someone who loves them back. And just today, that sparks do as they saw fit regardless of what we want." He sighed. "I can't believe I didn't see it before. I should back off, like he asked." He twisted to look at Elita again. "How did you know?"

She ignored the question and asked one of her own. "Has he told you who it is?"

"He hasn't even told me he's in love, 'Lita," Optimus pointed out. "Why would he tell me who it is?" Realization hit, and he gave his lover a sharp look. "Wait, do you know who it is?"

"I have a suspicion," she admitted. "But it's not my place to tell you, not if you haven't seen it yourself."

"If I haven't…" Optimus trailed off. Again, he reviewed all his interactions with Ironhide over the last period of time, back to even before Elita had come back into the picture. Back when Ironhide had been smiling, and joking with him, and looking at him like…

Oh.

Oh.

Oh no.

"So you do see it," Elita said softly. "Now, at least, you see it."

"Primus," Optimus breathed. "I can't believe I didn't see it before, either. It's so obvious, now that you've pointed it out."

"Most things are," Elita said matter-of-factly, "and it's a good lesson for you to learn, though the circumstances could be better. Do you know how long it has been going on?"

There was quiet as Optimus thought back, even further back, back almost to the beginning of the war and the beginning of Optimus Prime.

He couldn't find where it began. When the warmth in Ironhide's optics had first appeared. When the care for a student well taught had become affection for Optimus himself.

"Slag," he groaned. "He's been in love with me for a long time, Elita. What do I do?"

"Let me ask you something." She pulled herself away slightly, sitting up and watching him. "Can you see yourself with him?"

"But I love you," Optimus replied dumbly. The question didn't make any sense.

"I know that, silly mech." She smiled gently. "And I love you. But I'm asking you whether - that not being the case, or even despite that being the case – you could ever see yourself with him."

Optimus gave it some serious thought. It was hard, trying to put aside how his spark wanted the femme in the berth with him so very much, and try to imagine himself with another.

He dimmed his optics, tried to conjure up the images in his mind. Of Ironhide, smiling that smile that Optimus now realized was for him alone and that he hadn't seen in a while. Of his strong, capable hands, wide shoulders. The aft that Chromia was so enthusiastic about. He tried to imagine himself reacting to the other mech, touching him, letting their fingers tangle together.

It was as far as he was prepared to take it, and it wasn't enough. It didn't give him a definite answer.

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "He's been my friend for such a long time, Elita, and you're foremost in my thoughts. I don't know how to even figure out if there could be something there."

"That's not a definite no, though," Elita replied. "Do you want my advice?"

"Please," Optimus said fervently. He was perfectly happy to let Elita take charge of the situation. She seemed to be floundering far less than he was.

"Then be a better actor than I've seen you be so far," Elita said, her voice serious. "Pretend like you don't know how he feels. Push that blessed honesty of yours to the back. And interact with him. Let yourself imagine a different relationship. And consider this." She leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her optic. "I will not let you go. But, given the right circumstances, I may be convinced to share."

Optimus stared at her.

Elita seemed to sense his surprise. She grinned at him, still amused. "Oh, don't look so shocked. It's not that unusual a suggestion." She winked.

"Well, no, but – I mean –" He gave up hunting for the right word and just shook his head with a smile. "Elita, you're amazing."

"Thank you. The feeling is mutual." She smiled smugly and stretched out on top of him. "The sharing thing is a potential future, love. For now…" Her fingers drew traces down his abdomen. "For now, I have you all to myself. And I plan to make the most of that. What do you say?"

There really wasn't much he needed to say. And his mouth was soon otherwise busy.

"Shift change, Prime," Sideswipe said, popping his head in through the open doorway. "Do you need anything before we go?"

"No thanks, Sideswipe," Optimus replied cordially. "I'll see you and your brother in a few days."

The frontliner threw him a lazy salute and a grin, and sauntered off.

Optimus suppressed a smile. Seeing his Autobots relaxed like that was a blessing. The recent lull in combat had let more than a few of them relax and unwind, and he knew they were all the happier for it.

He knew it couldn't last. But he'd take every moment of it he could get.

Ironhide was also smiling as he walked in. Granted, he was doing it while shaking his head in exasperation, but the smile was still there.

"Something funny?"

"Sides is bein' more obvious than usual," Ironhide replied with a chuckle. "It's a good thing Sunny's off shift tomorrow, because I don't think he'll be able ta walk properly."

Optimus winced and grinned ruefully. "I don't think I needed to know that."

"Neither did I, but if I gotta suffer, then you gotta suffer," Ironhide retorted easily. He made his customary sweep of the office, then took up position by the door.

Optimus could suddenly hear Elita's voice in his head, as clearly as if she had been there.

Well. No time like the present.

"I was about to take a break, actually," he offered. "Want to play a game with me?"

"A game?" Ironhide canted his head. "The calm gettin' to you too, huh? Sure, I can play a game. What did ya have in mind?"

In response, Optimus stood and walked over to a rarely-opened cabinet. Behind a few spare cubes and a bottle of high-grade that by all rights should be back in his quarters and not here, there was a pile of games. "Jazz taught me one a while back," he commented as he rummaged. "The rules were deceptively simple, and he trounced me properly. I've been wanting to practice with someone who hasn't honed his skills against Prowl." He finally found the checkered board and the black and white tiles that went with it.

Ironhide grinned when he saw the pieces. "Ah, yeah, I've seen them play that. It's no wonder he got the better of ya." He dropped into the chair opposite Optimus' desk, tugging it slightly closer. "I've tried it once or twice, but I'm too direct for his playin' style." He winked. "I'll be black."

Optimus put the board down as he sat. "Fair enough."

The pieces were distributed, the game begun, the chatter flowed easily. After a while, when Optimus' shift ended, he went and got that bottle of high-grade and the cubes for it, pouring for them both. Then he lost some more, which didn't matter, because so did Ironhide and they were both having too much fun to care. So Optimus poured them some more high-grade, laughed at some more jokes, enjoyed the easy banter when the game was forgotten in favor of the conversation.

He imagined.