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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)
- 12
- 13
- 14
Weeks began to pass into each other so fast that Mikaela would've lost track without a calendar. She fell asleep before midnight on New Year's eve and spent New Year's day mopping all the floors.

Her stomach started to pop out in the middle of January. By Valentine's Day, she glanced at herself in the mirror and realized she looked like someone who swallowed a basket ball. She carried high, too, so the backaches and hip-aches and indigestion became her best friends again. At least the morning sickness didn't return.

If that wasn't bad enough--nowadays, she panicked almost every time she heard sirens or saw police cars on the road. Logically she knew Barricade likely wouldn't show up again, but fear never obeyed logic.

And then there was the matter of winter not giving up its hold on the forest.

Mikaela woke to chilly air and howling wind blowing snow against the bedroom window. Optimus rattled the chain screen on the fireplace when he added more wood.

"The electricity is out. Weather reports indicate blizzard conditions," he said. "Ratchet and Ultra Magnus are working on getting the generator running. Ironhide is scanning the area for Decepticon activity. I'll be joining him. Will you be all right?"

Grogginess made retaining all that more difficult than usual. Mikaela wiped the goop from her eyes and sighed. "Great, power outage. Yeah...stove's gas. I can make my own breakfast. Are you guys gonna be okay in this cold?"

"Ultra Magnus and I will shelter on the back side of the cabin. Ratchet and Ironhide will hunker down behind the shed."

"There's tarps in the basement, you know. I could cover--"

"You aren't setting foot outside in this." Optimus told her sternly. "We'll be all right. It isn't as cold as the Arctic Circle here."

"But, you guys--" Mikaela glanced up when the numbers on the TV cable box suddenly clicked on, indicating success in getting the generator running. "--might get buried in snow."

"We can just transform out. Don't worry."

Mikaela knew she'd never argue her way into helping them. She sighed and let Optimus turn on the Weather Channel to monitor the storm.

So much for those solar panels. Mikaela thought huffily.

The shed outside was aluminum and housed equipment for maintaining the lawn--a drivable lawn mower, chainsaws, shovels and gardening tools. The wind made it creak the way Megatron's joints did--and Mikaela kept cringing at the sound.

She went downstairs bundled up in sweats, a bathrobe and heavy-duty slippers, and even then the nippy air bit her fingertips. Warmer than outside, yet still uncomfortably cold. The snow blowing past the large windows looked like fast-moving white fog. She couldn't even see the huge pine tree less than ten feet away. Black feet--Ironhide's--struggled towards the side of the house with the shed. Further off, she could just barely make out Optimus shielding his optics from the snowy onslaught. Only when Ironhide was out of view did he transform and take cover against the cabin wall.

Mikaela heated up some oatmeal for breakfast and decided to stay upstairs as much as possible.

That storm buried the front door in snow. It took Ultra Magnus a long time clear a path Mikaela could take in an emergency. Mikaela insisted on helping Optimus dig Ratchet out when the snow proved too tightly packed for simply transforming to break free. Ironhide fared better because he'd been between Ratchet and the shed.

"I'm tired of this cold!" Ratchet groused once he'd been freed enough to transform.

Mikaela sympathized. Snow was fun at first--until it melted all over the house, left her clothes wet and, if it was dirty, created nasty spots that took forever to mop up.

Of course...there was the afternoon Mikaela spent shoveling snow off the path leading up to the cabin. She'd built up a considerable pile when Optimus drove up and knocked it over, unknowingly destroying her hard work. Miffed, Mikaela grabbed two snow piles in her hands, smashed them together and hurled the snowball. It splattered on Optimus' windshield.

"I just spent all day on that!" She scowled at the silver grill of the Peterbilt.

And since the first snowball exploded so nicely, she flung another one.

Optimus' hologram popped up just at that moment. The snowball hit him full in the face, turning all his grooves white. He wiped his eyes, spat snow out of his mouth and looked down at her.

"Well, if that is going to be your negotiating strategy..." Optimus shook himself and bent over, scooping the snow into his palms. He didn't throw as hard as Mikaela did, but his snowball was bigger.

"No, I'm gonna--ack! Oh, that's it." Mikaela patted snow off her jacket and rolled another pile between her gloved hands. "You're dead!"

"Don't be so sure of yourself." Optimus smiled roguishly. He easily dodged her snowball and chucked one of his own, splattering her black jeans in white.

Mikaela built two snowballs. She faked to the left and threw right, and caught Optimus' whole chest. He slipped on a bit of ice, his body making a crackling noise as he landed on his back in a snowdrift. Mikaela hurriedly pushed a whole bunch of snow on top of him. Optimus erupted from the pile, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her down. They collapsed together, laughing, wet and a little chilly around the edges. He climbed on top of her, pinning her down. Her belly, though quite large now, still hadn't become a huge obstacle.

"One advantage to metal...it is this." Optimus bent over, moving Mikaela's scarf and rubbing his freezing cold face against her neck.

"AAH! No!" Mikaela shrieked between waves of laughter. "Truce! Truce!"

He chuckled and let her breathe, and she realized she still had a snowball in her left hand.

She smashed it against the side of his head.

Optimus' whole face pinched. He wiped the snow off, opened one eye to look at her and laughed, burying his face against her chest.

"You never fall without a fight."

"I didn't get this far in life by being a passive little waif," she grinned.

The air between them almost became tangible. Mikaela watched the steam from her breath curl against Optimus' mouth plates. His face and eyes were gorgeous against the winter colors surrounding them--crystal blue skies, white snow and brown branches framing everything.

He'd just started leaning down when...

"Ultra Magnus rolled off the road. He is in too public a location to transform," Ironhide rounded the corner. "Optimus, you're the only one with enough traction and horsepower to tow him."

Optimus didn't look at all annoyed, though his hesitation to get up indicated he wasn't pleased with the interruption. "This matter needs immediate attention, but go inside..." He leaned over, whispering in a tone that gave her visions of fire and thunder, "...and I'll put you to bed when I return."

Mikaela felt her face heating up despite the freezing air.

Optimus got to his feet, his body glistening in the sunlight, and offered her his hand. He smiled at her, but a hint of darkness appeared within his optics. The passion they shared reached out to her as surely as the stainless steel fingertips waiting for her grasp. Mikaela took his hand and let him help her regain a vertical base.

Ironhide kept his back to them while he transformed. Optimus' engine clattered to life, and his parting shot upon leaving was to spin his tires and spray snow all over Mikaela's torso.

"You are going to GET it when you come back!"

He laughed and pulled onto the road.

Twenty minutes and a shower later, Mikaela waited in the bedroom, wearing nothing but the blue bed sheets.

True to his promise, Optimus appeared not long after she'd settled down. They had grown so acquainted with each other that his touches no longer held any hesitation, and she stopped asking him if she'd caused pain. Both knew what hurt, what didn't, what felt good and want didn't work.

They weren't gentle that night. Optimus took off his outer chest plating before joining her on the bed. He could still get between her legs and lean over her growing belly, but she knew this would likely be the last week they'd be able to make love face to face. The fireplace caught flashes of metal meeting flesh, darkening azure gazing into steel blue and streaks of sweat on glass. She felt his mouth follow her throbbing pulse while her fingernails traced the fiber-optic network surrounding his Spark chamber.

Watching Optimus overload in the light of the fireplace made the sore back she'd have later worth it. Mikaela fell back afterwards, panting, and smiled up into his optics. They were hypnotic, dynamic--and they pulled her in!

She plummeted through wiring and electrical impulses until she crashed into a sea of infinite white. Data streams and glyphs surrounded her, each pulsing like a Spark. The Prime closely resembling the Fallen loomed above her, a dark spire against the brilliance all around. His blue optics gazed gently at her from the unreadable plating of his face. The metallic "whiskers" running along his head rippled as if blown by a light breeze.

The Prime extended his hand towards Mikaela. Mikaela leaned away from the intimidating claws.

"What do you want from me?" she asked the apparition.

"To see," he said. He was speaking a musical language she couldn't discern, yet somehow understood perfectly.

"Which one are you?" Mikaela glanced nervously at the clawed hand still too close for her liking.

"Prima." He replied simply.

And from his hand sprouted the same family tree flowchart she'd drawn months ago. Each Prime except the Fallen had descendants--but the names faded until Optimus' line remained.

"I was the first. Then Prime Nova. Then Sentinel Prime. Then Optimus Prime. Then..." Prima's claws lowered to brush her stomach.

"Elita."

"And all others were lost to the Fallen. Many generations..." He turned his head and Mikaela recognized sadness in his glowing eyes. "Lost."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Prima looked back at her. He smiled--or his eyes gave that impression. "Because mercy is in your genes. Because you are the answer. You chose the question and you became the answer, and you will be the answer until all are one."

Try as she might, Mikaela couldn't figure out what he meant. She reached into her hair and grasped her scalp, massaging away the headache trying to form.

"Dammit," she fought down the frustration building in her stomach. "I'm trying to understand, but I don't."

"It began when Spark and blood met."

Cupping her in his hand, he moved his other arm and she saw Earth many thousands of years ago. Human beings clad in fur were climbing on and picking at one of the dying Primes. They all ran away when he moved...except for one. A little girl Mikaela swore was her younger self stayed behind. She had a fresh, bleeding cut on her hand at the time her gaze fell upon the pulsing Spark--and out of curiosity the girl plunged her injured hand into the light. The wound on her palm sealed itself instantly and her brown eyes turned brilliant blue. She sniffed her hand, shuddered and continued onwards only to discover no mouth in which to empty the animal-skin pouch of water.

Time went on. The girl started drawing glyphs in the dirt. Then she reached adolescence--it didn't take long for her to get pregnant. Her child was a girl, born with blue eyes, and she also scribbled in the dirt. That child's daughter did so as well--every generation produced blue-eyed girls who scribbled until the markings evolved into Egyptian hieroglyphs and, even later after a migration, the glyphs appeared on Chinese oracle bones. Written language came from Cybertron just as modern technology did, and it was because of her ancestor.

Mikaela watched her family line grow. Blue-eyed girls, generation after generation. The genetic map stretched on and on until Mikaela saw her own image staring back at her. Laid out end to end, the lines of genes stretched as long as the data code from Prima to Optimus.

At the point where Mikaela and Optimus' names joined the line, they met.

The whole structure transformed into a spermatozoa cell swimming towards an ovum. A bead of blue-white fluid drifted in its path, and the sperm cell swam right into it.

"With the Fallen as a threat, the Prime line could not continue as it had...but I ensured it would continue. The seed is in your genetic history--" He took her again to the girl trying to give the dying Prime a drink--and it had been Prima. "--waiting for the last Prime."

The image of the spermatozoa cell zoomed in several thousand times, letting her see first the X chromosomes, then the DNA itself. Mikaela witnessed a surge of energy slamming into a shimmering DNA helix, causing it to unravel and turning the cell nucleus into a soup of...it looked like the Spark plasma Ratchet took from Optimus.

"Physically your people are different from Cybertronians, but the plasma within our Sparks contains the materials found within your genetic structure--Adenine, Thymine, Guanine and Cytosine. And when Spark plasma meets All Spark energy..."

Lightning bolts smaller than molecules pulled the DNA helix back together, grabbing onto stray strands of genes floating in the plasmatic soup. Most of them weren't Sam's. The strand reformed loaded with shining blue genes like the one present in Mikaela's genetic map. Sam's unused materials were literally cast out of the sperm cell as it dissolved its way into Mikaela's ovum. The altered chromosomes joined hers and conception happened as if nothing went amiss.

"...it creates life in whatever form it must to survive."

"I never touched Optimus' Spark plasma! I'd have to douche with it to get anything like that there." Mikaela balked at the ancient Prime. "I've never had any up in my--"

"You did."

"When?"

Mikaela wished she hadn't asked. Prima showed her how Optimus died on the battlefield--Megatron stabbing him from behind and blowing his chest out. Gouts of orange fire, purple energon and bluish-white Spark plasma shot up into the air. As Optimus fell like a toy without strings, he bled from his chest. Sam's shoes were splashing in it, coating his shoelaces and pant legs. He'd bent to tie his shoes when he got out of Bumblebee. He went to the restroom, unaware of the substance still present on his hands. Then, on the aircraft carrier, he had sex with her before they both showered.

"Samuel was destined to ensure the survival of the last Prime. You are meant to bring forth the next--"

"But human lives are so short!" Mikaela cried, "Optimus is going to be around a lot longer than the human race. What's the point?"

"Your worlds need a bridge to coexist. One that understands both the human and the Cybertronian." Prima regarded her and his metal whiskers rattled, making an unnerving hissing noise. "Every bridge requires a path to reach it. Paths stretch both ways, and you chose to build the bridge."

Mikaela's vision shifted to Elita inside the safety of her womb. The baby was curled up and contentedly sucking on her fingertips. Suddenly, she clenched her fists, her face twisting in a soundless cry.

"Never let the Decepticons take her life." Prima stood up.

"What if--"

But Prima was gone, and Mikaela jolted back into reality as Elita's foot slammed into the bottom of her ribs.

"I just felt a strong kick. The fetus is fine, and--" Ratchet's voice sounded above her head. "Mikaela! Can you hear me?" He shined a fingertip light into her eyes.

Mikaela squeezed her eyes shut. Her head buzzed with the after effects of a migraine headache. "Turn off the light. Hurts."

"Oh, thank the All Spark," Optimus took her face in his hands, fixing her in his familiar blue optics. "Mikaela...I thought I'd--"

"I'm fine!" Mikaela glanced between Optimus and Ratchet. "I went somewhere weird. I saw...oh hell, let me clean up would you? I need to think."

She rolled off the bed before they could stop her and bolted into the bathroom. Her throat had fading red marks where Optimus bit her skin with his mouth plates.

Mikaela splashed cold water on her face. Her eyes stung and her vision started to saturate. She grabbed the soap bar off the dish, climbed onto the bathroom counter and scribbled symbols all over the mirror. It happened so fast--she couldn't see any of what she wrote. Her hands just moved, writing in quick, even strokes.

"Mikaela--" Optimus froze in the doorway. Ratchet mumbled something about his hologram, but a gesture silenced him.

"One of my oldest ancestors ran into your oldest ancestor." Mikaela heard herself saying while she drew. The mirror was huge, giving her a lot of room. "P-P-Prima, one of the first. And a girl who looked like me. She tried to help him after the Fallen left him dying--Optimus, turn on the shower! Hot water! Somebody c-close the door!"

Ratchet shut the bathroom door in the same instant Optimus twisted the red spigot inside the shower. Mikaela kept on drawing as steam fogged the mirror, revealing everything she'd scribbled with the soap.

It was the same sequence of genetic material and Spark data patterns Prima showed her.

Mikaela clutched at her head, but shifted to grab her belly the second she felt herself falling into darkness. When she woke again, she was lying on her left side in bed and cloudy daylight turned the bedroom window brilliant white. Elita jolted into motion, kicking the breath out of Mikaela's lungs.

"Guh! Elita, stop that!" Mikaela rubbed the top of her bulging belly. More earnest squirming commenced, and she did her best to rub her unborn baby's back. "Must be that pizza I ate last night. Guess you hate green peppers, eh, kiddo?"

She looked down at her stomach, watching the outlines of feet and arms move across her skin. Optimus came up with a clever term for it: Belly quakes.

Mikaela made a face when Elita kicked her diaphragm again. Last night's events floated back to her conscious mind. Did she dream the whole incident? She was about to chalk it up to a crazy nightmare until Optimus' voice filtered through the open back door:

"...it said my real father was Sentinel Prime."

Ironhide spoke up, "Jetfire mentioned your helm design closely resembles Sentinel's--"

"Yes, Ironhide, but so does Ultra Magnus', and we aren't related."

Footsteps walked past the bedroom window. The conversation continued right behind Mikaela's head.

"What is this about a primitive human female touching one of the first Primes?" Ironhide asked, though it sounded more like a demand for answers.

"Mikaela and I shared a vision, apparently..." Optimus kept his voice low.

Ironhide didn't bother controlling his irritated tone, "And?"

"Everything that has happened between Mikaela and I appears to be something my ancestors laid out long before we ever existed. The clue is hidden in the text of the genetic line: 'A Prime will come from the warrior-faced female.' How can we argue about it when her very name is coincidentally a word in our language?"

"She is human! You are Cybertronian!"

Mikaela pulled on an oversized T-shirt and peeked out the window in time to see Optimus shoot Ironhide a deadpan look.

"Since when are we bound to our own kind?" he asked.

Ironhide's shoulders shifted in a shrug. His mouth plates tilted up slightly, forming a robotic sneer. "It just doesn't seem natural. She's a threat to us, Prime! Ultra Magnus tells me the Decepticons know the same information you've just told me. The child's life will never be out of danger at this rate, and that puts you at great risk."

"Elita may very well be the first plank in a bridge that brings humans and Cybertronians together."

"Exactly my point. You might as well paint a bull's-eye on her aft."

"Ironhide!" Optimus barked, silencing the Topkick. "Everything is already in motion. It's been in motion since the All Spark created the first mechs to walk the universe. Every choice I have made led me to Mikaela. Every choice Mikaela has made led her to me."

They began to walk again, passing slowly out of earshot.

"So you mean to tell me that everything is already decided for us?"

"No..." Optimus shook his head. "More like..." But the rest of what he said faded into the distance.

Mikaela crawled back into her warm bed and huddled under the sheets.

I got in the car that night, she thought. That was my decision, and that is why I'm here. Fifty years from now, I'll be telling Elita I had the guts to get in the car. Now I'm doing something that matters to more than this world.

"...I'm happy that Optimus is happy, Ironhide." Ratchet's voice was barely audible.

Ironhide huffed. "I'll accept this when the kid actually does something for our kind. Until then, she'll be annoying. Period."

Later, when she watched Optimus cup her belly in both hands like a fragile egg and smile up at her, Mikaela knew she had no regrets. Getting in the car was the right choice.
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