"So that's what your dad looks like," Trina whispered, peering around the corner and into the room rec room, where her father was sitting, alone, lost in his own thoughts. Trina cocked her head to the side, and then nodded. "I can see the comparison."

Mikaela snorted. It was almost comical, really, both species in the exact same pose, Mikaela towering over Trina with ease. She had come to the point where she was able to control her steps, making her steps lights so she wouldn't attract attention.

She didn't know whether or not it was her, or Roadrunner. Or a combination of both. Her annoying mindmate had been awfully silent, and Mikaela was surprised, having expected her to burst in on she and her fathers reunion.

Mikaela turned away, leaning against the wall. It was dark outside, the hallways relatively empty, the lights flickering overhead casting an eerie glow on everything around them. She didn't know how long her father had been in there, still trying to soak everything in. But she knew that it had been long enough for both she and Trina to come to the conclusion that, yes, something was wrong.

"Should I talk to him?" Mikaela whispered down to Trina. The human adjusted her dark hair, which she had languidly pulled into a bun earlier.

"Do you want the friend answer, or the smart answer."

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. The smart answer is, 'dear God, no, it will only make you look stupid. The friend answer is, 'yeah, sure. If it makes you feel better."

"Thanks," Mikaela said sarcastically.

"Hey, I ain't one of those Brotherhood freaks," Trina winked. "I care. And I won't leave you hanging."

Mikaela didn't express it, didn't know if she could, but the words hit her like a punch.

Sam. She didn't know why his face was forming in her processors, his dark hair and deep, unreadable eyes. He had probably found some others girl, someone else's life to wreck. Not that it was his fault, not that it could ever be his fault, but Mikaela found some comfort in telling herself that it was him.

Mikaela probably should have seen it coming. She didn't get mad that Trina had been hanging around him, hanging on him, practically. The first sign that she didn't care for him, didn't care about him. Maybe it was her programming not to feel attracted to humans, or maybe it was just her own mind trying to convince her that Sam wouldn't accept her for who she was.

A machine. Or something like a machine, since machines weren't capable of feeling love or raw desire, hate or anger or envy of self-loathing, like she had felt many, many times before.

"Speaking of Brotherhood freaks," Mikaela let out a breath of air, the gesture still left over from when she was human. She didn't think it would ever go away, and she didn't care as long as she had something to hold onto. "I say we go back by and pay ole' Fisher a visit."

Trina looked up. Stared, big eyes unreadable.

Finally, "are you drunk?"

Mikaela rolled her eyes. "C'mon! We're scoping out the enemy here, observing their habits."

"You sound like you're talking about observing chimpanzees or something. What, are you trying to convert?" Trina's eyes widened at the thought. "Please, don't tell me that you want to join Fishers hate club."

"In his nightmares," Mikaela scoffed. "So, that's a no, I guess?"

"I mean, you can go alone….I'm not tagging along to that freak circus."

"Thanks for the support."

"Don't mention it, buddy," Trina peered around the corner once more. "So, which one will it be?"

"Pardon?"

"You never answered. Smart, or friend? You know, to speak to your dad."

Mikaela thought for a moment, observing her fathers hunched figure.

"The smart answer."

"I like how you think, Banes. I like how you think."

She met Optimus in his quarters just as he was running her fingers over the dreamer that Starscream had given Mikaela, face etched with worry.

"Put that down," Mikaela barked.

He didn't obey, but instead let his arms drop to his side. He said, "how is your father?"

"The usual."

Mikaela didn't want to say anything else. Didn't have to, since Optimus seemed to perceive the glint in her optic.

"You didn't speak with him, did you?" Optimus frowned and finally, giving into Mikaela's angry glares, set the dreamer back under his berth. "He's quite….disturbed about this whole thing. As his daughter, I would have thought that you would have–"

"He's not your father," Mikaela said, a little too harshly for her own liking.

Optimus didn't recoil back, or even flinch. Something he was a master at evading. He said, softly, "my apologies. It wasn't my place."

"Your place is leading the Autobots. And staying right here, with me," Mikaela sauntered over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He returned the gesture immediately, sending off sparks between their two frames.

"And what did you mean by 'disturbed'?" Mikaela rumbled against his chest.

"I was just implying that…." Optimus shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

Mikaela snorted, letting go and stepping back. She went over and sat down on his own berth, kicking her long, slender legs back and forth. She said, "so, what's troubling you?"

"Pardon?"

"C'mon. Everyone's noticed that you've lost that spring in your step that you always seem to have."

"Galloway. Government officials. Feeble matters, really, but rest assure I will get them sorted out," Optimus had his back turned to Mikaela and was flipping through a data pad. He said, "and a few of Ratchet's supplies have gone missing."

If Mikaela had a breath, she was sure it would have caught in the back of her throat.

"But, no matter. Ratchet misplaces things quite often. He will find it, eventually."

"Not something you should berate yourself with," Mikaela patted the berth, the noise echoing off the walls. "Now, why don't you come over here, and I'll massage those stressed joints of yours."

Optimus' head turned very, very slowly.

Mikaela spread her arms out wide. "Hey, you earned it, big guy."

Optimus set down the data pad, rolling his massive shoulder, coming to sit down on the ground in front of Mikaela. Mikaela, sitting on the berth and dwarfing over him with ease, began to press her fingers into the seams of his shoulder armor.

He let out a slight hiss.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she murmured. "If I hit something wrong, please don't go all ninja on me."

"I won't. And you won't," Optimus tilted his head upward, a smile playing at the corners of his lip plates. "Hasn't Ratchet already taught you the basics of Cybertronian anomaly? You should already know our most sensitive parts."

"Oh, I um…" Mikaela used her free hand to scratch the back of her helm, a pretty feeble attempt at hiding her guilt since Cybertronians's didn't technically itch. "I had to skip that part because Trina asked me to go bowling with her."

"If I may point out something," Optimus groaned as Mikaela put pressure on one of the strained wires under his armor, a pleasurable sound that had Mikaela's insides squirming. "At the time, you had no control of your holoform."

"Did I say bowling? I mean parasailing."

"Uh-huh," Optimus nodded, but Mikaela knew he wasn't convinced.

"I didn't pay attention, okay!" Mikaela threw up her hand, and Optimus chuckled. "I'm a bad student, alright!"

Optimus rolled his shoulders again, and Mikaela went back to massaging. A silence stretched between them, Optimus occasionally making sounds when Mikaela hit somewhere he liked, and Mikaela getting even more aroused by every sound he made.

Finally, he stood. "I think that's enough."

Mikaela could only nod, her cooling fans having switched on, desperately trying to cool her heating core. Optimus noticed and raised an optic ridge.

"Are you alright, Mikaela?"

"Great."

Optimus slid beside her, hand on her arm. He said, free of any preamble, "we don't have to if you don't want to."

Oh, I want to.

Mikaela didn't know if it was Roadrunner speaking, or her own mind. Either way, she was already leaning in and pressing her lips against his.

She had promised – they had both promised – that they wouldn't push each other. They wouldn't push there bodies, either.

Too late.

Optimus was on her, but not forceful, not tearing her open like all the others she used to have, tearing her open to reveal everything inside. He was warm, his lips were warm, and his arms were strong and they seemed to hold her up.

And she wasn't alone.