Scanning had been easy. Optimus had instructed her through it, step by step, and, as she stood in front of him, admiring the silver color of her armor and thankful she had been smart enough to scan a Nissan 350Z, she wondered if Optimus would act like Ratchet. Telling her how she was better now, and that life would be alright and yada, yada….

So it made her happy when he only asked of her well-being and began to talk about something else.

And when he mentioned Sam, Mikaela sucked in air, something she was surprised she could actually do as a Cybertronian.

"Mikaela?"

"I'm alright."

"Was it something I said?"

Optimus stopped and Mikaela just about kept walking. She slammed on the brakes, stumbling from the sudden halt, murmuring an apology when Optimus had to reach out to keep her from falling.

"No, no, it's fine," Mikaela could feel her metal cheeks heating up in embarrassment when she felt his strong grip around her forearm. "It's nothing."

"You seem a bit flustered."

She was about to ask how he could tell, but she shut it instead. She didn't want another anomaly lesson. That was what Ratchet was for.

"Look….Optimus….can I ask you something?" She asked.

"Anything."

"Sam and I are…um, ya' know…dating and stuff. And I was wondering if we could still be able to…" Mikaela turned to face him, twisting her fingers together like some kind of diagram that she knew he wouldn't understand. Better to come out and say it.

"A holoform is always an option," Optimus said simply.

Mikaela felt her heart….erm…spark's steady hum return to normal. He had saved her the trouble of asking by understanding.

"I don't know how to…"

"Do not worry, Mikaela, I will teach you."

She smiled. "Thanks."

It was three weeks later when she saw Sam again. Three weeks of Ironhide yelling at her like a drill sergeant, and Trina trying to be helpful but only adding to Mikaela's stress. Three weeks of Ratchet lecturing her about her body and its new modifications. Like all that mattered. Like she was better off now.

Finally, after three weeks of having Trina as the only human soul she could converse with, she was able to see her boyfriend. Dark hair, nice, warm smile. She had missed that smile.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said, reaching up to hug her finger, something she had seen Bumblebee do many times.

She was surprised that he still thought of her as gorgeous and not some freak of nature.

"I missed you."

"Missed ya, to," he patted her finger, and then dropped his hands to his side. Mikaela tilted her head and stared down at him. She wondered if this was how Bumblebee saw him. How he used to see her. She was almost Bumblebee's size, actually, save for about a foot. Like that meant anything.

"How are you feeling?"

Mikaela huffed, sitting back and crossing her arms. Words didn't need to be exchanged for Sam to know the answer to his own question.

"I see," Sam mumbled, toying with the hemline of his shirt. Mikaela picked up on his discomfort, seeing the way his eyes were focused on the ground, like it was the most interesting thing in the universe. Like Mikaela wasn't.

"I'm still me, Sam," she said, shifting forward, joints creaking like she was some old Autobot. "I mean, underneath all this metal, I'm still me."

Sam looked up and gave her a sad smile.

"I know. It's just a little…weird and all," he said, shrugging, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He was trying to sound calm, but his expression betrayed him. He looked sad. Worried. And above all else, nervous. Nervous because he knew that Mikaela could crush him without hesitation.

"Am I scary to you?"

"Scary? No. Different…your voice is different. You don't have to complain about being short anymore."

That drew a knowing laugh from Mikaela.

"And you're shiny. Like Sideswipe. You two both have the same paint job."

"Goodie."

Sam raised his hands in a placating gesture, stepping back. "Hey. I'm just stating the facts."

"Well, the facts suck," Mikaela said, "all of them. You know what its like having that chick Trina as your therapist or whatever? She's constantly all over my ass about how I need to work hard and prosper and not worry what others think, and then I see her sitting back, eating doughnuts and watching TV, not even following her own advice."

"I feel ya."

"It's like I'm stuck in some insane asylum. Crazies all over the place."

"You never know. There could be a few saints mixed in with the crazies," Sam cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Have you talked to Optimus yet?"

"Yeah. Last night. We went for a walk."

Immediately, Mikaela knew how wrong the words had come out. But Sam didn't seem to notice.

"Did he say anything?"

"No. He just sat there and stared at me the whole time," Mikaela said sarcastically. Then, "yes, we did talk."

"What did you talk about?"

"What do you think?"

Sam spread his hands out wide and stared up at Mikaela, eyebrows raised. He said, "why am I begging for answers? C'mon, Mikaela, just tell me."

"Stuff," Mikaela said, gaze drifting downward. She found herself tapping her long fingers against the ground, feeling the vibration of each impact send small jolts through her fingers. She wondered how much she could feel. How much she would be able to see and hear and smell….how different it would be.

Don't get too ahead of yourself, Mikaela, she told herself. You still have a lot to learn.

"Stuff?"

Her head snapped up, and she stared at Sam, saw him giving her that same curious look he always had. He was always curious. Mikaela liked that about him.

"Relationship issues."

"We aren't having any….oh, right," Sam shifted a little. "I get it. Do I want to know what he said?"

"We'd still be able to - "

"Okay, that's good."

Mikaela rolled her optics and leaned back, crossing her legs, watching as Sam came up and put a hand on the silver armor of her legs.

"Hey, Sam," she asked. "can I tried something?"

Sam gulped and nodded, and Mikaela reached down, fingers inching towards his waist.

"I'm not gonna drop you," she said when she saw the uncertainty in his eyes. But beneath that all, there was trust, right? He had trusted her so many times, and she had trusted him more than she could count. And, of course, Mikaela trusted herself.

Then why was she feeling so uneasy?

"Easy," he said when she gave a little squeeze. An accident.

She still needed to learn to control her strength. Ratchet had told her that after, in a fit if rage, she had thrown one of the tree-trunk weights across the room. Trina had screamed like a little girl when it had hit the wall, sending bricks flying.

She hadn't meant to. Even when Ironhide had fallen on his aft laughing, then had congratulated her for damaging her first piece of property as a Cybertronian, she still had felt a tad bit of shame.

She snapped back to the present. She was holding Sam in her arms now, one hand wrapped around his waist, the other free, floating beneath his body, fingers cupped into a bowl. But she knew she would not drop him.

She put him back down, quickly.

"Awesome."

Yeah, awesome that she was now strong enough to hold her boyfriend in one hand like some kind of freak of nature. Something to be proud of, Ratchet had said, that she was now something better. But Mikaela had brushed him away, told him off.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"So…um…Ratchet didn't want me staying long," Sam said, shuffling. "So…I better get going."

"I guess."

"And I'll come back and visit you, I promise," Sam was making his way towards the door now, looking back over his shoulder. "Love you."

Mikaela sighed.

"Love you, too."