She snuck the dreamer back into Optimus' quarters three nights later, while he was in another meeting, being bombarded with accusations and insults from this government official and that.

Let him have the dreamer. Let him go back on his word.

Already, Mikaela was antsy and tired, the whole ordeal with Starscream leaving her confused, her processors a whirl of activity. It didn't help that Optimus seemed to be floating around her, now, like a shield. Like he would take a bullet for her, and that, Mikaela thought, should be a good thing.

Then how come she felt it wasn't? Everyone noticed his sudden attachment. Trina, being Trina, had said a few words before going back to caring about which skirt she should wear and what earring matched her shirt. Ratchet had made a snide remark. Hell, even Ironhide had commented about it. That mech didn't care about the social lives of others unless it contained explosions, action, and cannons. He didn't say it to her face, of course. She had overheard him talking to Ratchet in the med bay, voice lowered as if he knew he shouldn't be talking.

But, then again, that was Ironhide. Half the stuff he said or did ended up known throughout the base.

"Did you recharge well?"

"Hardly," Mikaela muttered, crossing her arms over her silver chassis and matching Optimus' pace as he walked beside her. He, too, looked worse for wear, and it probably wasn't fair that he was the one concerned for her well-being. Selfless as always, Mikaela thought with a smile. You almost never found that in any human man.

"Was something troubling you last night? There was an awful amount of rainfall - "

"I heard it," Mikaela said. "But I…um…recharged right through it. Even as a human, I was a heavy sleeper."

He chuckled. "Understandable. I'm that way myself."

He and Mikaela shared a morbid laugh, almost free of any mirth. As they walked, the humans seemed to clear out of the way, brushing up against walls and letting them through. Letting the boss bot through, probably. Mikaela wasn't as threatening as the rest of them.

But still, one missed step….

The med bay, as well as most of the bot's quarters, were on the far end of the base. Not many humans went down there, and a part of Mikaela didn't blame them for not wanting to be completely surrounded by giants like Prime.

The hallway was practically empty. Optimus thudded beside Mikaela, deep in thought as he reached the med bay.

And then, noises from inside. Metal against metal and clanging, cursing, and….was that….

"I wouldn't -"Optimus began, but Mikaela had already wrenched open the door.

She barely got a glimpse of Ratchet pulling his lips away from Ironhide's, leaping off his lap, flailing back and smashing into the opposite wall, the noise like the end of the world.

Mikaela just stared. Optimus made a noise in the back of his throat that would have been funny on any other day, watching as Ratchet, optics wide, leaned against the wall and tried to look innocent, the way his lip plates twitched giving it all away.

Ironhide just shrugged and walked out the door, brushing past Optimus, shoulders bristling.

Typical.

"I always wondered what you two do in your spare time," Mikaela said to Ratchet, a dangerous smile toying at the corners of her lips.

"So are you and Hide…like…." Mikaela twisted her fingers together.

"Sometimes. When we feel like it."

"I guess monogamy sucks and blows," she muttered. Then, "So….you have those parts?" Mikaela tilted her head to the side, widened her optics, and then began to furiously shake her head. "Never mind. Never mind. I don't want to know. I honest to God don't want to know."

"Good," Ratchet said gruffly. "Because I don't want to explain it. Right, Optimus?"

The red and blue mech just shrugged his massive shoulders, the expression on his face speaking volumes about how much he didn't want to talk about it. Like Ratchet, he looked torn between making a beeline for the door or sitting and listening to what questions Mikaela had to ask.

"I'm not trying to make this uncomfortable."

"Already have," Ratchet practically sang.

"….but I'm one of you now, right? So I guess I should start learning the basics."

On any other day, the countenance on Optimus and Ratchet's face plates would have made her laugh. But this time, she was serious, and who else to be serious with than the two most stern mech's known to man? Already, Ratchet was turning slowly, optic ridges raised.

"You admit it?"

"Admit what?" Mikaela said, and then mentally slapped herself.

"That you're one of us. An Autobot, despite the insignia on your armor," Ratchet, brushing on finger across her shoulder, indicated towards the Decepticon insignia. It barely stood out against her silver armor, but if you looked closely, you could still see that one stain of evil.

"Me? A con? Pfft," Mikaela said passively, brushing Ratchets fingers away and hopping off the berth.

"While it is unlikely, there are some aspects to your demeanor that express certain Decepticon-like behaviors," Optimus said from his corner. Before Mikaela could retaliate, he raised his hands, and Mikaela obeyed. Because when a Prime wanted to speak, you let him speak. He said solemnly, "I'm not accusing you of anything Mikaela, but do you ever suffer from sudden flashes of superiority?"

Yes. But she wasn't going to say that.

"Not really," she shuffled her feet nervously.

"I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, Mikaela - " Optimus began.

"We just want to know," Ratchet cut in. His optics held so much sincerity that Mikaela wanted to spill and tell him everything. Her meeting with Starscream, her horrifying discovery that Barricade was alive and kicking, and above all else, her deal with Megatron.

She was inching closer and closer to the deadline, she realized.

Her optics swept the room, taking in every little detail, ever little fiber, until she found the data pad. It sat on one of Ratchet's many table, in a cluster of other medical tools.

The download tech was in there. All she had to do was grab it and….

"Mikaela?"

Mikaela jumped. Ratchet was snapping her fingers in front of her face, sounding more irritated than he looked.

"What? Oh, sorry, I must have…." She faltered, her eyes swooping back to the data pad and lingering for just a few seconds. "Sorry. I wasn't listening. What did you say?"

"I said that I hope you're adjusting well."

"I'm adjusting," Mikaela glanced at Optimus. "In fact, Prime and I were just about to go for a walk. Get to know each other better, right, Optimus?"

Optimus looked lost for words, and then, blinking and nodding his head, he said, "yes, that is correct."

It seemed that of all the things Optimus Prime was capable of, flight, fight, phenomenal speaking skills, everything like that, taking a hint wasn't one of them.

"I'm sorry, Mikaela. I did not mean for my words to make you uncomfortable."

"Always starting with an apology," Mikaela sat against the shed with her legs spread out and her head resting against Prime's shoulder. He didn't seem bothered by the contact. In fact, it seemed as if he liked it. Longed for someone to be close to.

Mikaela did, too. But it wasn't Sam she was yearning for this time.

"I didn't mean - "

"Save it for Dr. Phil," Mikaela muttered, shutting her optics. "I already know."

"But….what I was inquiring about," he faltered for a moment, and then, after a long pause, said, "are you feeling…."

"….more and more like a Decepticon? Kind of. And yeah, before you say it, I know I've been complaining and whining about how much my life sucks for the past few months, and really, I'm over it," she shrugged. "I guess whining and complaining and hating life are what con's are known for."

"Maybe it's her."

"Maybe it's me," Mikaela said. "Maybe it's me, and her. She's in my mind still, you know? At the very edge of my mind, poking and probing in there. She wants control."

"And you won't let her take over," Optimus tilted her massive head. The femme leaning against him didn't seem all that bothered when he placed a hand on her thigh. "You're a strong femme."

"I don't feel strong."

"You are. Don't let anyone doubt you, Mikaela. Don't let what others say get into your head the way Roadrunner did."

Mikaela's optics flickered upward, and for a moment they remained fixated on his face. On its smooth curves and sharp edges that made him seem so regal, so powerful.

And so beautiful.

"Sam's got nothing on you, Prime," Mikaela murmured. "Can't believe I fell for him."

"Sam is a brave human. He's fought hard for the Autobots, for his planet. But like a majority of the members of his species, he fails to see the truth."

"Yeah."

"It's a shame that he left you. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Mikaela said bitterly. "It was his decision, not mine. And it wouldn't have worked anyway," she gave a morbid laugh. "I mean, even when I was a human, we were so different. My life was shit. His wasn't. And I won't go into the details. I'm sure you don't want to hear the story, from dismal beginning to triumphant finish."

"Only if you want to."

"I don't. The past is irrelevant."

Her lips froze and she gave a small snort, hating how she sounded exactly like Megatron. The past was irrelevant, blah blah. It was his motto, practically, and it specifically applied to Mikaela and her bizarre circumstance.

He was almost like some kind of psychotic, guru, giving advice that would only fuck up the world even more. Of course, fucking up the world was the Decepticon's main goal, and she couldn't believe they wanted her to be a part of it.

"Never," she murmured.

"Hm?" Optimus' hand drifted from her thigh to waist, and Mikaela found herself snuggling into his warm embrace.

"Not meaning to ask personal questions…" Mikaela bit her lip plates and then said, "do you miss her? I mean, does it bother you that I'm…."

Her theory was back, like Roadrunners conscience, seeping from the back of her mind. Like some type of insane virus with no vaccine. Inexorable

"No. Never."

Lies. Of course, it bothered him. Why else would he be pressing his forehead against her, kissing her so softly that it felt like a breath of air tickling her lip plates as if her were kissing her former lover, one that looked so much like Mikaela that it hurt.

But then, as he pulled away, blue optics looking satisfied as he pulled her against him, Mikaela being the one to wrap her arms around him and sigh in content, she knew that he wasn't lying.

Screw it. She'd contemplate over her theory later.

Maybe never.