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Lines	By : CGH Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 3802 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Transformers. I am not making money off writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Lines
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 14-14
- 15-15
- 16-16 (FINALE)
- 11
- 12
- 13
Sleep was Mikaela's way of mentally escaping a situation. After Mission City, she slept for twelve hours. When she got home from Egypt, she spent almost fourteen hours in bed. She might have gone to sleep and awakened sixteen hours later if Sam didn't poke her when they reached the cabin. She groggily pushed the combination into the door, turned on the lights and entered.

Sam immediately crashed on the downstairs couch.

Mikaela wordlessly offered him a blanket before hurrying upstairs. Stripping as she went, she practically threw herself into the shower and scrubbed her skin raw. She shaved off her pubic hair and washed her nether regions three times. Even then it felt like she'd never be clean again.

Then she turned off the water, dried herself...and the tears she held back so long burst forth so loudly she ran the water again to keep her sobbing from waking Sam.

Two sets of jakes roared across the dirt road.

"Ironhide, don't pull on his arm! Let him transform."

Mikaela recognized Ultra Magnus' voice when he groaned. Clanks and a horrid screech indicated some serious damage.

"Oh, slag. This will definitely be an all-night repair job." Ratchet huffed. "Ironhide, tell Bumblebee to stop crying by the shed. I don't care what his problem is right now. Ultra Magnus will need a large infusion of energon during surgery. I already have four gallons from Optimus. I need two from the rest of you. Now!"

"W-what happened?" Ultra Magnus croaked.

"Megatron retreated." Ratchet said. "I'll know more when Optimus debriefs us. You shut up and let me repair you. It's always the left arm with you. Hmph."

"Mikaela?" Optimus' voice muffled behind the bathroom door. "Are you in there?"

"Yes." Mikaela called, and cursed softly when her voice cracked.

"May I enter?"

She wiped her face with the towel, put on deodorant and fought back the rising lump in her windpipe. Her reflection's face reddened all over again.

"Dammit," she slammed her palms against the sink and covered her face. "Dammit!"

Optimus came in without waiting for her invitation. He turned her around and pulled her to his chest, holding her safe in his armored arms. All without a word--he just held her, letting her cry as long as she needed to. His body warmed when she started to shiver.

"I-I-I killed two bots tonight. Rumble and that...that Doctor...it wasn't like that bot at Sam's college. I...I beat them, stabbed them..."

"It was the only way out." Optimus said softly. "It was the only way to stop them. You defended yourself."

Mikaela sniffed back the snot trying to run out of her nose. She hated crying so hard. "Am I a murderer?"

"No." He took her face fiercely in his hands. Oh, she had to look disgusting right now, but he didn't care. "You are not a murderer or a monster. You are a mother with a right to defend yourself and your child. It was your lives or theirs."

Sniffling again, Mikaela wiped her nose on a piece of toilet paper. Then she cleaned off the tears and mucus she'd cried all over Optimus' chest plate. Tears were still leaking from her eyes, but the sobbing had stopped for the most part.

"Your arm." He touched her bicep where the Doctor nicked her.

"It's fine." Mikaela sighed. The wound didn't even hurt and showering had washed off the blood. She'd been so high on adrenalin that she forgot she'd been cut. "Did you kill Shockwave?"

Optimus nodded, blinking slowly. "He nearly shot Ultra Magnus in half. His laser weaponry can sever limbs...Ultra Magnus is lucky he only lost his arm. Ratchet will repair him."

Mikaela heaved a shaky sigh. Optimus let her go so she could dry her hair, but embraced her again once she'd shrugged into her bathrobe.

"By the way, the ham didn't burn. It was just finishing when word of your capture reached me. It's in the refrigerator along with the rest of the meal. Would you like me to heat some up for you and Sam?"

The thought of food made her feel nauseated. She shook her head. "Not hungry. But I--I need Ratchet to scan me when he's done fixing Ultra Magnus' arm."

Optimus' optics narrowed. "Did the Doctor--"

"Yeah. Little bastard." Mikaela fought against a new wave of weeping.

For a few seconds, Optimus' optics flared. She saw him shake his head and heard his lip plates grind together, but the expression melted as quickly as it came.

She opened the bathrobe and pulled Optimus' hands inside, laying them against her back. "Please...just touch me. I don't want metal to make me have flashbacks of what happened back there. I'd rather it remind me of you."

It wasn't an invitation for sex, and Optimus understood her perfectly. He spread his fingers and rubbed her back in slow, gentle circles. Her tense muscles began to relax almost immediately. Then he carried her bridal-style into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and massaged her hips where her pregnancy created the most tension. He had magic hands when it came to deep tissue massage, and Mikaela knew his touch meant safety.

"Shall we practice for labor?"

"Mm." Mikaela let him help her back up and they went through the various positions, breathing and vocalizations. Labor practice was a nightly routine they shared, and by then it was such second nature that Mikaela knew she'd be ready when Elita decided to meet the world.

Optimus curled up with her when she settled down in bed. He had a real advantage over organic men--she could lay a pillow against his arm and not worry about the limb falling asleep. He didn't have muscles that tired or cramped from staying too long in one position.

Mikaela laid on her side with her eyes closed while Optimus rested his hand over her heart.

"Sleep." His soothing voice rumbled in her ear. "I'll stay right here. If you begin to show signs of a nightmare, I will wake you."

She kissed him in thanks. Sleep came easily on the heels of his promise.

.o

Ham with cream corn and salad became the official weirdest breakfast Mikaela ever ate in her life. Then again, she slept until almost three o'clock in the afternoon and didn't bother putting on any more than a bathrobe. Optimus reheated the food in the microwave and Sam and Mikaela sat on the floor next to the Christmas tree to eat. After last night, they tacitly agreed the tablecloth, fancy plates and wine glasses would be pretentious.

"Hope you don't mind if I used the downstairs shower." Sam said.

Mikaela shook her head to dismiss it. He'd been filthy--and now the couch he slept on needed a good cleaning.

"Man," Sam stuffed a chunk of ham into his mouth. "Optimus cooks better than my mom. Never thought I'd hear myself say that."

"Wouldn't know it by looking at him, would you?" Mikaela said back. She rolled a rough carrot slice around on her tongue and added a bite of salty-sweet ham. Gooey, warm cream corn came next. The combined smells and tastes equated to the holiday just around the corner.

"Nope." Sam sipped sparkling cider from a regular plastic glass. "But I want to know why you and I had sex, but the baby is Optimus'. I don't get it. Is it some Virgin Mary miracle?"

"Maybe if I was a virgin."

"It's just as impossible. Of course..." Sam rolled an olive around with his fingers, "Optimus coming back to life seemed pretty impossible, too. So...how'd it work?" He focused his hazel eyes on her from the small distance separating them. Sam really was a cute guy...

Mikaela finished chewing before she answered, "Um...okay, you got a head pumped full of All Spark knowledge and handled the Matrix of Leadership, right?"

"Yeah."

She sipped the cool, apple-flavored cider that bubbled pleasantly on her tongue. Outside the windows, snow-covered trees shone like angels against the blue sky.

"I guess what happened is it kind of changed your DNA. I think Ratchet called it a temporary mutation. Whatever. Anyway, we had sex. Then Optimus and I fooled around three days later while on the road. We thought it was breakup sex."

A frown creased Sam's wounded brow, but he let her continue.

"Turns out that Optimus released some kind of energy that completed the mutation in the genes in your sperm. Their Sparks have a code sequence like DNA and, well..." Mikaela felt like she wasn't explaining it as well as Ratchet or Bumblebee could. "...there you go. Optimus says that when he died and came back, the Primes told him a new Prime would emerge from humanity and that he'd be the one who helps it happen."

Sam jabbed his fork into his slice of ham and took a bite. The muscles in his jaw flexed and twitched while he chewed. "Is she half robot? Like...cyborg?"

Mikaela shook her head. "She's a hundred percent human except she'll be born with all the knowledge of the All Spark in her mind."

His eyes narrowed. "So she's gonna have meltdowns like I did...all the time?"

"I don't know."

"This is...this is just way too weird for me. Mikaela, I don't think I can keep getting mixed up in this. What if she comes out retarded or something?"

That made her balk. "You can just walk away."

"Tch. Every time I try, something else pops up. 'Bee is great, but I want my life back. My normal life. We got captured because I came up here. Kinda makes me feel like us coming together just asks for another run-for-your-life mess." Sam cleared his throat and went on. "Maybe we shouldn't really see each other anymore. If we're broken up now, let's really break up."

"Whatever, Sam." She made a face, too mentally exhausted for a fight. "If you want to b--" She almost doubled over at a tiny foot smashing into her ribs.

Sam jumped into a kneeling position. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm--ow! Elita!" Mikaela rubbed her side, "Not the ribs!" She sighed. "Every time I eat, she kicks right there. Maybe she doesn't like the noises my intestines make."

He relaxed, sagging again to sit on the floor. "What's that feel like?"

"Like a bucking bronco tap dancing in iron boots." Mikaela said.

Sam started to grin. Then his eyes focused on the TV and widened. Mikaela followed his line of sight. It was an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation. The one where Captain Jean Luc Picard became Locutus of Borg. Complete with instruments and probes meeting human flesh.

They couldn't reach the remote fast enough to turn it off.

"Back to this whole baby deal...uh..." Sam resumed picking at his food. Then he dropped his fork so it clamored on the plate and slapped his hands down on his knees. "I'm sorry, but I just feel a little bit used here. I'm trying to understand this. I just...can't. I want out of it all. I'm not made for this destiny stuff. I'm just a guy. I'm not a hero. I'm not some damn savior."

This song and dance again?

Mikaela ate the last of her food and laid her fork beside her plate. She wiped her face on the papery napkin that seemed suddenly too rough against her mouth. "Didn't the Primes tell you that bringing Optimus back has always been your destiny?"

Sam pursed his lips. He nodded, fidgeting with his napkin. "Optimus was there. I couldn't see him, but I felt him. He didn't want to go back, but they put his Spark into the energy of the Matrix and I had to transfer it back to his body. I feel like I'm just fate's pawn, though! I just want to know--what's in it for me?"

If it wasn't the holidays, and if they hadn't just survived a terrifying night, Mikaela would have yelled at Sam to get out. But right then her mind and emotions were too worn down for another battle. She rested her elbows on her knees and held her forehead, ruffling her hair.

"Sometimes, Sam, it's not all about us. You're still alive."

His fingers--tapered with nails bitten to the quick--started to shred the paper napkin in his lap. "You're really staying with him." He stated. It wasn't even remotely a question.

Mikaela let the words slide across her consciousness. She wasn't sure he'd actually spoken. When he gazed into her eyes and lifted a brow, she realized she didn't imagine it.

"Yeah," she whispered. "We had a good run, Sam. But we're just too different now. We're going in different directions."

His face fell. Her eyes welled over.

"It's not about me being stolen from you. It's about me making a choice." Mikaela reached out and gently touched his arm. "Maybe Charley will be the right girl for you."

"Maybe." Sam glanced at her hand on his forearm. "What are you gonna tell people that ask about the baby's father?"

"As far as the general public is concerned, you're the father."

He nodded slowly without looking at her. "What hospital are you going to?"

"I'm not. I'm going to have her here."

"That's insane!"

"No, it's not. Hospitals don't let you control anything. They treat labor like something that'll go wrong at any second. I want to be in control." Mikaela glanced over her shoulder at a sound in the kitchen. Optimus was returning the leftovers to the fridge. She smiled, facing Sam again. "I also want Optimus to see it. I want her to see who he really is, not some fake hologram."

"I know...but you were nasty with that crowbar last night."

"I'll avoid sharp objects."

Sam shook his head with a heavy sigh that moved his shoulders. "What about the pain? Moms are like...screaming and stuff on TV--"

"Because it's fake." Mikaela started picking up their plates and silverware. "I think I'm safer here anyway. Who's to say there won't be a Decepticon posing as a doctor like that blonde girl?"

"But what if something goes wrong?"

"We'll deal with it. Look, Sam," Mikaela glanced over her shoulder, "You're not changing my mind."

Then she left Sam sitting by the Christmas tree and padded into the kitchen. Optimus wasn't there now--he was probably focused on his men at the moment anyway. She scraped the food scraps off the plates before setting them in the dishwasher.

Outside, sizzling and crackling indicated Ratchet was still at work welding and repairing Ultra Magnus. Mikaela glimpsed Optimus' feet walking past the kitchen window. Her bedroom was in that direction. She got the dishwasher going and, upon returning to the living room, noticed Sam wasn't there.

I guess he went upstairs to talk to Optimus. Mikaela thought. Going upstairs proved tempting...but she decided not to. Sam and Optimus needed to have their talk without her nosing in.

Another, quieter sound called her attention. Mikaela traced it to the front door. Tying her robe shut, she braved the cold and walked outside. The air itself stabbed her skin with a thousand needles, but she gritted her teeth and took the abuse.

Bumblebee was sitting right next to the patio. The second he noticed Mikaela there, he lowered his battle mask and turned away, holding his throat. He used his radio rather than speak:

"My shattered dreams and broken heart

are mending on the shelf..."

It was a really old Brian McKnight song. Mikaela recognized it only because she heard it on the radio all the time as a kid.

"Aw, 'Bee..." Mikaela reached out and touched his door-wing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bumblebee shook his head without looking at her. He hardened himself, hopped onto his feet and retracted his mask. Two seconds ago he looked too miserable to live and now he was smiling. Mikaela realized why when Sam poked his head out the door.

"Optimus said Ratchet's done with Ultra Magnus and ready to scan you." He didn't even hint at any other aspects of their conversation. His face stayed composed, though the downturn in the corner of his lip caught her attention before he reached for his winter jacket.

"Be right back." Mikaela hurried upstairs to put on some pants. Painful experience over the last few minutes had taught her not to go out in the snow without pants under a robe. She pulled on her boots and returned to the living room, her sore legs complaining at her to stop before she reached the bottom of the stairs. "You coming?" She struggled into her coat and opened the front door.

Sam fiddled with the zipper on his coat. He seemed to take forever, so Mikaela just stepped onto the deck without him. Ratchet's chartreuse feet stood out against the white snow piled around the mailbox.

"Can you do this scan through all these layers of clothes?" Mikaela's breath fogged in the moist air.

Ratchet's expression softened, but Sam still took a few steps back when the Autobot knelt down to regard her. "Your clothing won't interfere. I do apologize for the wait. Ultra Magnus required immediate repair."

"It's fine. I would've helped if you'd asked."

"No. Energon is dangerous to your skin. One drop would have killed you or caused a miscarriage. You are lucky none touched your skin during your capture. That may be mostly due to its short half-life upon exposure to oxygen."

"Guess so." Mikaela said.

Ratchet's pupils narrowed into bright pinpoints and he held out his arm so what he scanned appeared on the holographic display just above his wrist. Now that she wasn't scared out of her mind, Mikaela could really pay close attention to the details in the glowing blue image.

Elita was sucking her thumb, her expression serene. She floated around, upside-down, and didn't seem to know or care. Her nose tipped up like a button. She had little hands curled into fists and twitching toes attached to the tiniest feet. The umbilical cord touched her leg and her toes flexed right before she kicked it. Mikaela felt it as a strong impact next to her ribs. Aside from being small and skeletal, the baby within her looked completely human now. Nothing like the tadpole blob Mikaela saw the first time Ratchet scanned her belly.

"I'm going to pan over to the placenta..." Ratchet's voice didn't intrude on the moment. The image moved to the mass on the back side of Mikaela's uterus. "I'm not detecting anything foreign. Not even a nanite. It's safe to say the probe inserted into you was completely removed. Your fetus is in no danger."

Now Mikaela could relax. She smiled in thanks.

Sam was staring. His eyes were saucers and his voice came out hoarse. "Is she really that size, or is the picture bigger?"

"That is her actual size. Approximately twelve inches in length."

Mikaela giggled at Sam. She couldn't help it, the sugary weight in her chest compelled her to laugh. "Go tell Optimus to come see this."

"Optimus? Oh, right. Just a sec."

It only took a few seconds before she heard Optimus' joints hiss in the cold. All the Autobots seemed to make louder sounds in cooler air.

"What is all the excitement?" asked the Autobot leader.

"Come see the baby," Mikaela grinned at him.

Optimus raised an eyebrow--obviously not quite understanding the importance of this--and lowered himself to one knee. His eyes focused on the image hovering above Ratchet's wrist. Then it hit him.

"That is...remarkable. And in just...is it twenty weeks since conception?"

"Yeah. Twenty-two weeks if you go from the date I last had a period." Mikaela grinned at Sam and Optimus. It felt great sharing Elita with them instead of having her existence remain a mystery behind the skin of her growing belly. Now Optimus would know what caused all those bumps and ripples, and maybe it'd help Sam not see her as too dirty to touch.

The next thing Mikaela knew, Ironhide, Bumblebee and Ultra Magnus were all crowded around to observe the tiny image Ratchet projected. Each metallic face showed wide-eyed fascination. Nobody spoke a word. The silence became so absolute that when fresh snow began to fall, Mikaela could hear the whispering sounds of it hitting the ground.

"Elita..." Optimus spoke softly. His optics glowed with something beyond the LED's inside his irises. "Look closely, everyone. Everything we've ever lost is something she is dreaming about. Our past, our present and our future...she has it all, and one day she will share it with us."

.o

Sam left before Mikaela woke up the next morning. No goodbye, no warning, just an empty living room downstairs. He didn't even neaten up the blankets on the couch where he slept.

It seems like he takes two steps to growing up and falls three more behind into immaturity, she thought silently while tidying his mess. Getting all the dirt off took almost twenty minutes with the hand-held vacuum cleaner. The sheets and pillow covers went into the washing machine, and it clunked away while she wiped off the coffee table.

"Sam apologizes for leaving without saying anything." Optimus almost startled ten years off her life. "He said it was too difficult to remain here."

A distant siren sounded. Mikaela gripped the arm of the couch until it faded without ever coming up the road to the cabin.

"There is a wreck three miles down on the main road." Optimus volunteered, which let her relax and continue cleaning up.

"I kinda don't blame him. It's still annoying. I didn't even get him a gift." Mikaela folded the blankets and slapped them onto the cushion. "He hardly wanted to touch me. I'd bet you fifty bucks he thinks I'm a freak now. Does he think he can pretend it all away?"

Servos whispered as Optimus stepped behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. They were comforting, a frame of confidence. "It isn't easy to get over a relationship. I do understand, but..." He set his chin against her temple, leaving her wondering when his metal body stopped feeling so foreign. "...Sam believes he's no longer needed by us or by you. In a sad way that is the truth, but the Decepticons may still attempt to use him against us. That is why Bumblebee still wishes to remain his guardian."

Mikaela chewed her bottom lip. "He cares a lot about Sam."

"It is a love that will never be reciprocated."

That explained everything! Bumblebee being distracted the day of their capture, his crying by the shed and his pretending to be fine whenever Sam appeared. She twisted her head to look up at Optimus, fixing his eyes in her peripheral vision. "Then why does he stay, if he knows he won't have what we do?"

The face plating brushing her temple tensed in a robotic smile. "Because he is so selfless that all he cares about is Sam's happiness. It's why he tried to bring you and Sam together. I think..." He rumbled in amusement, "I honestly think Bumblebee was trying to understand how romance works on this planet."

Bumblebee made a choice. One that possibly led him into pain and misery--and maybe even neglect. Mikaela didn't know any humans who would do something like that. It was an aspect of Cybertronian love she couldn't wrap her brain around.

"That's cute." Mikaela rested her palms over the hands on her shoulders. "But sad, too."

Sunlight from the southeast poured into the giant windows, causing Optimus' hands to blaze white and leave streaks whenever his fingers moved. Mikaela stared out at the puffy gray clouds shifting above the trees like ships adrift in an azure sea. Just as her own heart had been, once.

"I'm gonna go make some pancakes. Want any?" Mikaela added the last part by habit, and didn't catch herself until she'd already said it. "Um..."

"That would be messy." Optimus winked at her.

And the days began to melt into each other from there.

Being in the snow meant the Autobots were wet most of the time. Being wet most of the time meant they got dirty. Optimus wasn't nearly as shiny as he normally was, and Ultra Magnus' white looked black-splattered. Ratchet and Ironhide were lower to the ground, and thus their fenders and tires got filthy.

On Christmas eve, Mikaela treated all of the Autobots to a wash and wax--even Optimus and Ultra Magnus--while the inside stereo system blasted Christmas music by Mannheim Steamroller. The project took all day and used enough wax to make Mikaela consider buying in bulk, but her friends expressed a lot of gratitude for the free cleanup.

She went to bed bone tired. Her sleep was fitful and dreamless. It seemed like she'd just laid down when...

"Mikaela."

"Mm..."

"Mikaela..." Now the voice moved to her ear, rumbling in ways she couldn't ignore. "Wake up. There was an unfortunate accident with the Christmas tree downstairs, and I'm not sure how to repair it."

"Mm--what?" Mikaela was up and in a bathrobe faster than she could blink. She almost vaulted over Optimus to race barefoot to the banister overlooking the living room.

The fireplace was lit, making the room look inviting. Presents were piled neatly under the tree--all wrapped in red paper, topped in gleaming gold bows and arranged from largest to smallest. Mikaela stared in disbelief. Something crackled under her hands. She pulled a post-it note off the railing. Optimus' handwriting greeted her:

Merry Christmas, Mikaela. Open the smallest gift last.

Mikaela's eyes watered as she tip-toed carefully down the steep staircase. She'd never seen a Christmas like this before. Her life had always been a lone pine tree branch propped up with a C-clamp on top of the TV set. It looked so sad with a few chipped ornaments making it sag while nothing but dust and its own needles piled up underneath.

Her first gift was a box of infant bodysuits in shades of pink and purple. Some had cute sayings on them and others had beautiful flower embroidery. Another present was full of adorable baby dresses in varying sizes.

Mikaela began to acquire quite a pile of baby clothes--socks, shoes, matching outfit sets and the sweetest little blue sailor's dress she'd ever seen.

One present had a battery-operated breast pump, bottles and nipples inside, probably Ratchet's idea. That made her blush and giggle. A really heavy gift box was full of cloth diapers with Velcro closures, baby powder, something to stash dirty diapers in on the go and a fresh changing pad.

Finally, when Mikaela's heart started to burst in gratitude, she reached for the last package. It was smaller than her hand and very light, the paper gleaming with her reflection. Optimus joined her in the room while she carefully tore the paper off the black velvet box. She glanced up at him before pulling up the lid and gazing inside.

Something glistening stared up at her in the form of gold and silver wire. It was the glyphs for her name in gold, Optimus' name inside it in silver and Elita's name below them in both gold and silver. The symbols had been sculpted, literally melted and sculpted, and set atop a sturdy platinum ring. From top to bottom the combined symbols were a quarter of an inch long. She turned the ring over and saw the Autobot symbol on the top-inside of the band, and three glyphs decorated the bottom on the outside.

"They say 'freedom, justice, peace.'" Optimus told her.

"Optimus..." Mikaela gasped and covered her mouth. "How did you--"

"Ask no questions." Optimus placed a fingertip on her lips, smiling. "All I will say is this is what I was doing in the kitchen the day you saw me scramble to clear the table."

"I thought you were ironing."

"I...was using the iron."

Mikaela giggled, her heart fluttering in her chest. He made her feel so giddy.

"I-I love it. Nobody makes jewelry like this on Earth." She leaned over, hardly able to believe how the gold and silver wires were practically wrapped around each other in a loving embrace. It was identical to the engraving on Optimus' Spark chamber--even down to the striations and delicate carving lines. The details probably ran to the microscopic level.

"You said once that it is customary for those wishing to remain permanently together wear a ring. I cannot wear a ring because transforming would break it, but..." He took the ring from her hand and delicately slipped it onto her left ring finger. Then he clasped her hand between both of his, his blue optics looking deeply into her eyes. He'd had her name engraved on the top of his left ring finger. "Merry Christmas, Mikaela."

Mikaela's face was on fire. She'd never had this before and almost didn't know how to respond to such selfless kindness. Her throat ached. Tears welled in her eyes. She kissed his mouth plates and slipped her arms around his waist. His whole body caught the sunlight in such a way that just his edges shimmered like the feeling within her heart.

"You're great, you know that?"

His gentle laugh was right in her ear. "Aw, shucks," he winked. "Elita seems to approve of her gifts."

"Or she wants me to eat breakfast." Mikaela kidded, rubbing the moving mass of her pregnant belly. She hung a bit of gold ribbon on Optimus' ear finial. "I need to get dressed. Stay there and I'll be right back."

"I'll wait right here." Optimus replied. He shook his head in an almost cat-like motion to dislodge the ribbon.

Mikaela patted his chest plates and nipped upstairs. Paper rattled as Optimus cleaned up the aftermath. Changing was a quick maneuver--wriggling into a long, black skirt and a knitted red turtleneck. She left her hair down since Optimus seemed to prefer it that way. Her makeup stayed simple; she just dabbed on a little foundation, eyeliner and red shimmer lipstick. It'd wear right off once she ate, but the effect would be nice when she came downstairs.

"Wow." Optimus said upon her re-emergence. "Red is definitely your color, Mikaela."

"It works on you, too."

She slid past him and gathered the ingredients for pancake batter. He stood right next to her while preparing scrambled eggs and bacon--somehow, he could cook them together in the same pan and the flavor resulting was something that needed to be packaged, patented and sold.

"For somebody who can't smell or taste, you make some damn good food."

He laughed. "It's simple mathematics."

"I noticed." She elbowed his side. "Your simple mathematics are blocking the burner dials."

They made the most fattening breakfast in the history of mankind. Optimus played upbeat Christmas music while Mikaela ate. Then they danced to it in the living room--and then the others brought their holograms inside and they all played a rowdy game of pool in the loft. Ironhide won.

Mikaela took a nap in the early afternoon because she was still tired from the previous day. When she woke up, the cabin had gone quiet, it was dark out and gentle snow fluttered past the window. She smelled food.

The lights were off downstairs--except for the Christmas tree and a lone red candle on the dining room table. She found, of all things, a hot turkey sandwich with asparagus and a baked potato on the side.

"I was just about to come wake you," Optimus emerged from the kitchen.

"It's fine," she replied. "That food looks great."

He was such a gentleman...or was gentle-mech a proper term?...when he pulled her chair out for her to sit.

"Why did you go to all this trouble?" Mikaela couldn't resist asking. Optimus didn't strike her as the type to just meld right into a culture, yet he'd been doing so right before her eyes. He'd been as wonderful as...

"I do believe it's customary to carry the female over the threshold of a new dwelling..."

"Yeah. When people get married."

"We might as well be."

"Because you mentioned never having a nice holiday like this." Optimus' voice brought her gently back into the present. "And..." He seated himself across from her, his face just a shape in the candle-light, "After a lifetime of struggle, I believe you deserve something nice once in awhile."

She almost cried into her turkey sandwich. Damn hormones.

The food tasted wonderful--every flavor was in the right place and she couldn't put into words how she considered that sandwich better than any fancy meal found in restaurants.

Reaching out, she rested her left hand over his since he'd laid it on the table. Her ring and his newest engraving glittered in the light cast by the candle.

"Do you ever feel weird about us?" Mikaela rubbed the joint in his middle finger with her thumb. "Be honest."

Optimus blinked slowly and the two little plates beneath his eye sockets scrunched briefly, his equivalent to wrinkling his nose in thought. "At first, yes...I must admit I found it a little strange. My greatest concern was inadvertently injuring you. Sometimes, it still is."

Mikaela recalled how easily he'd crushed a piece of metal on the aircraft carrier bringing them back to America.

"I like to think I'm over the 'weirdness.'" Optimus went on, smiling. She noticed he did that a lot more often, too. "Now, I just see someone strong, intelligent and possessing all the qualities I find attractive. Besides, in the end, every atom making up our bodies came from the heart of a star. We're all made of star dust, Mikaela." He toyed with the ring on her finger. "That in itself makes us alike."

He had a point.

"We're all made of star dust." Mikaela repeated. "Do you think we came from the same star?"

Optimus rubbed her fingers with his thumb. "It's entirely possible."

"Then--" she gasped at the intrusive foot smashing into her spine. "Someone's awake."

Laughing, Optimus leaned over and tapped his finger on the exact spot Mikaela felt the kicking. "Merry Christmas, Elita."

Mikaela leaned back, pushing her fist against her left side. "How about kicking your placenta instead of my kidneys, huh?"

She felt Elita stretch out before kicking that same painful spot again.

Optimus tapped his finger along the top and right of her belly. "This way, Elita. Your mother's right kidney hasn't been kicked yet."

"Hey!" Mikaela snapped in mock anger.

"The bruises need to match, right?"

"Oh, that helps." Mikaela made faces at Optimus. "By the way..."

He looked at her, "yes?"

"Did you ever see a supernova while out in space?"

"I've seen a few, yes...they are spectacular and silent. The stars look normal on the outside, save for an envelope of gas and a complete lack of surface storms. One moment it is fine, and the next..." He brought both of his hands together as if cupping an invisible snowball and suddenly spread them out again, "...it brightens and swells like a balloon. Supernova explosions happen very quickly. Blink, and the star has gone from normal to a ball of fast-moving gas rushing at you. It is less like an explosion and more like a bubble blowing itself larger and larger until it fades away. In fact..."

Optimus set his hands down and shook his head. He started to laugh.

"...when Megatron and I were younger, we snuck off to a world whose sun was on the verge of a supernova. Megatron thought it had one more day. So we were...uplinking, and..." He covered his face in one hand and slapped the tabletop, "the star's core temperature shot up right as we finished. It was a scramble to get off that planet, and our father slapped us both for our behavior. Megatron and I laughed over it for millennia. 'Remember the overload that destroyed a sun?' we used to say."

Mikaela joined Optimus' laughter. "Sounds like you two had a wild run."

"Oh, yes. We did. We were troublemakers." Optimus calmed down and reached for Mikaela's plate. "I'm sure raising Elita will be interesting if she's anything like us. Rebellion seems to run in our families."

Mikaela snorted at that. "As long as she stays out of sex, booze and drugs, I'm fine with her being wild. Besides..." She flinched, "she's already a wild child."

Elita was still wiggling about when Mikaela got herself ready for bed. She couldn't lay on either side because that made her feel the movements more, and resting on her back too long made her legs tingle.

"Perhaps I have a solution," Optimus said. "I'm looking at it on the internet right now."

"Use it, please," Mikaela groaned back.

He scooted down so his head rested right in front of her belly. Cupping it with his hand, he began to recite, "'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring. Not even a mouse..."

His soothing voice put Mikaela to sleep before he'd gone halfway through the poem.
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