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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)
- 2
- 3
- 4
A week and a half passed.

Sam held true with his promise. He got a job delivering pizzas, something he said Bumblebee wasn't too happy about because Sam had to drive a company car.

Within two days of getting a post office box a mile inside town, Mikaela found a check for fifty dollars. Sam's timing couldn't be better--she could only fit herself into a pair of sweats with an adjustable drawstring, and her oldest, most stretched-out bra felt like it cut off all blood to her boobs. No more denying it. Time for maternity clothes and she didn't know how she'd afford them.

Optimus drove her all the way to the mall. He couldn't go inside, not even with a human hologram, but she found a solution. Her phone had a camera. Every time she tried on an outfit, she stood by the mirror and took a photo that she emailed to him. He'd text her with his opinion. He was very honest, not at all afraid to say something if an outfit didn't suit her. She tested him by trying on a gaudy green muumuu. His truthful response?

"Blech!"

He did laugh when she showed him a white shirt with "Bun in the oven" scribbled over an arrow pointing to her belly.

Mikaela was pleased at the array of tank tops and jeans. Her usual clothing style didn't need to change too drastically. She could even wear unbuttoned flannel shirts over the tank tops. Her only annoyance was a lot of the blouses had ruffles or lace, which she hated and rarely wore.

Underwear came next. There were many colors of bikinis and thongs to choose from. Good, she didn't have to wear granny panties. The older woman working the desk was wonderful in helping her select bras that would accommodate her rapidly changing body. Mikaela didn't fuss over style. It wasn't like Optimus cared whether her underwear were lacy or plain. In fact...in all the time she'd known him...he'd never seen so much as her nipples. He'd touched them, but he never actually looked.

The way her mood seemed almost...giddy...felt so weird. She thought she'd be upset over Sam. But no, instead, she found herself content with everything. Maybe it was knowing she had support that wouldn't leave her.

When she'd exhausted herself so much that she couldn't carry her bags into the warehouse, Optimus volunteered to assist. His hologram looked downright funny with shopping bags in both hands. It was one of those images that just did not fit logically. Like watching him sit in the driver's seat of his cab. Or seeing him make one of his crazy-tasty sandwiches.

"How did you figure that sandwich out?" She had to ask.

"Ah," Optimus set his creation on a saucer and offered it to her, "I figured the different textures would be pleasurable." He winked at her, "Considering the speed at which you consume them, I was right."

"Ugh, you're worse than sitcoms!" Ironhide growled out the door.

"And you're worse than a pornographic movie," Ratchet commented as he rolled in from guard duty.

Here they go again, Mikaela ducked her head and pretended not to notice the good-natured arguing match going on.

"Meet me in the field and I'll show you pornographic," Ironhide said. His optics had a predatory gleam. He stuck his little finger in Ratchet's tail pipe and the Hummer's sirens howled. Tires screeched as Ratchet wiggled free and rolled back outside.

"We'll be right back, sir." Ironhide told Optimus...right before he transformed and chased Ratchet into the field. The burning rubber smell faded to the quiet of a suddenly-empty room.

"They have been insatiable all week," Optimus muttered, shaking his head. "Actually, it's a good sign...they are one of the most...ahem...active couples I know."

Mikaela finished her sandwich in silence. If she tried to talk, she'd laugh and she didn't want to waste any of her food. Only after she swallowed the last bite did she speak up, "Rabbits."

"Excuse me?"

"They hump like rabbits. Constantly."

He looked straight into her eyes and laughed. "Perfect analogy!"

Later, Optimus helped her clean the cobwebs and dust out of a storage closet so she could store her new clothes. The pegs for hanging tools made arranging her shirts, pants and complete outfits a snap.

She didn't miss the way Optimus smiled when she hung up anything red. There were quite a few red garments--two tank tops, a turtleneck and a deep crimson sweater.

"You sure like red." Mikaela said. She took out a red halter top styled much like the bodice of her prom dress and held it up in front of her for Optimus to see. It was the one thing she didn't tell him she was buying, and she did not miss the way he looked twice.

"It reminds me of the night we shared. The color suits you." He turned fully towards her, their faces only a few inches apart. "It also reminds me of the first few moments of my life. I came to consciousness in a red room."

"Really..." Mikaela found herself drowning in his gaze. "What's it like?"

"Coming to life? Hm..." Optimus tapped his mouth plates together in thought, his equivalent to a human clicking their tongue, "I suppose it is similar to how you feel when awakened suddenly from a sound sleep. There is nothing and suddenly...awareness." He blinked slowly. "Do you remember the moment you became conscious?"

"Mm-mm." She shook her head, "Nope. Memory doesn't go back that far. Probably a good thing. Who wants to remember being shoved out of a nice, warm, dark place and pulled into a bright room with scary people who stick things in your mouth and poke your feet with needles?" Biting her lip, she hung the halter top on its own peg. "I don't know what I'm going to do about having this baby...but I know for damn sure I won't have her in a hospital. They give you drugs, they bother you...I don't want that. I want to let my body do what it's made to, not follow what some doctor wants. Long labors run in my family and I absolutely do not want a C-section." She puckered her mouth, sucking a piece of lettuce out from between her front teeth the way her dad used to. "I still have a lot of time to plan--but I really want to avoid the hospital."

"Why would they intervene with nature?"

"Nature?" she scoffed. "Forget it in a hospital. My mom went there thinking she could have me naturally. Of course, when the pain got stronger than she anticipated, the doctors were really happy to give her an epidural. Her contractions stalled, so they gave her pitocin. Then the epidural wore off so they gave her another dose. She was hooked up to monitors, so she was stuck lying flat on her back when she wanted to get up and walk. Her labor went on and on, and they don't even let you eat in the hospital in case you need surgery, so she had no energy. Eight hours later it was time to push, but by then she was so exhausted and couldn't feel anything below her boobs. So she couldn't push. They did a C-section to get me out."

"That's terrible!"

"I know." Mikaela narrowed her eyes, sighed and shook her head, "My mom went in a perfectly healthy woman who was in total control and came out barely able to take care of me for six weeks. All because the doctors wouldn't leave her alone. I don't want that. The idea of labor pain scares the shit outta me, but I want it to mean something. I don't want to go through it only to have somebody throw my plans out the window because I cracked and screamed for pain relief."

Optimus tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He appeared to dream for a moment or two before refocusing on her. "I will support whatever choice you make in this matter."

Just like that. No arguing.

Straightening, Optimus stepped back. He didn't notice the empty shopping sack on the floor behind him. His foot slipped on the plastic. The bag still in his hand went flying straight up while he crashed backwards with an impact that jarred his radio into playing Yakety Sax. Loudly. To top it off, everything in the shopping bag he was holding spilled across his body.

For several seconds the only sound was a rasping saxophone.

Mikaela gawked at Optimus sprawled on his back with bras dangling off his ear finials, bras stuck to his air filters, a bra trapped in his left knee joint and one tangled between his chest plates. He blinked and slowly lifted his foot, which now had the shredded remains of a Sears bag clinging desperately to the metal sole.

"This is quite a predicament," he said. The radio finally switched to a less obnoxious station and dropped to a barely audible volume. "I hope I didn't damage your merchandise."

"Oh, my God..." Mikaela covered her mouth and doubled over in helpless laughter. She tugged the plastic mess off his foot and tossed it in the trash bin next to the makeshift closet. He seemed genuinely afraid to touch the bras--probably worried he'd tear the fabric--but it was still funny watching him look at them like they were about to eat him.

She controlled herself enough to kneel by his shoulder and pluck the bras off his antennae. One had gotten itself wedged in the actual plating of his head, requiring her to twist, tug and wiggle before it came free. This meant her fingertips touched and brushed him several times. She did not miss the growing heat forming around his body like an aura. "I thought you Autobots were supposed to be graceful."

Optimus' servos whirred when he twisted his head to look up at her. "My fall was very graceful. You just weren't looking."

"Mm," Mikaela leaned over to grab another bra off his left leg. Her loose hair fell over her shoulders, brushing against his chest and cheek. Despite having her breasts almost in his face, he still focused only on her eyes. She knew because she glanced down to say, "Let's give it a nine point nine, just shy of ten since I didn't see the execution."

He blinked and quirked his lip plates in a way that told her something witty was on the way out of his mouth.

"Falling for you requires no effort. Shall I repeat the performance?"

"Nah." She turned around and seated herself on his stomach. No sense denying the direction this conversation was going. "Don't want to run the risk of injuries."

"Hm, good point."

Now Optimus was aroused. Mikaela could tell by the way he watched her like a target caught in his sight. A seductive look she had no hope of escaping even if she wanted to.

"Hey," she said, swallowing to steel herself. "Remember that submission you did to beautiful agony dot com?"

"Yes." His index fingers drew spirals on her arms and her hands curled.

"Why'd you do it? Aren't you worried about being exposed?"

His fingertips moved to her hands, turning them over so his thumbs could draw invisible patterns on her palms.

"I considered that, yes, but realized I could easily conceal where we live by filming outdoors." He frowned, his eyes blue embers in the silver of his angled features, "Those who witnessed Mission City, Shanghai and Egypt sometimes comment about us on message boards. Many people assume we are just machines who exist only to fight. I want this world to know we are more than that, so I let them see me at my most vulnerable. It must be working...so far I have 'turned on' over five thousand people."

Now his touch moved to her legs, circling her knees, diving to her calves and rising again over the swell of her thighs. She did nothing to stop their motion because there was no stopping him.

"I was one of them, you know." Mikaela reached for the red bra trapped between Optimus' chest plates. It had somehow wrapped itself around the armor protecting his Spark chamber. Heat pooled somewhere deep in her belly. She freed a strap, letting it fall with a click on the hottest part of his chest, and his innards trembled. "You...you totally lost it on camera."

"I...always do when I overload," whispered that voice of his, that incredible, deep, smoky baritone that crossed her mind like a brewing thunderstorm.

"You're different with me. You seem to hold back."

"It's for your safety." He blinked. "My hands are strong enough to break your limbs. If I have my arms around you when--"

Mikaela's eyes darkened. She wiggled the bra free of his plating and passed it deliberately over his Spark chamber doors. "Then I have a suggestion." She threw the underwear over her shoulder, pinned his hands to his sides and leaned closer, whispering into his audio. "Don't touch me."

Then she laid her hand flat between his chest plates and he arched into her. Within seconds his armor made the same crackling noises she heard when she touched a TV screen.

"Ooh..." Optimus grasped her elbows. "That tingles!"

"Ah-ah. Hands off, pal."

Optimus' hands darted back as if burned. He laced his fingers together above his head. "Yes, ma'am," he purred in a deliberate attempt to egg her on.

It worked.

Mikaela forced herself not to slide backwards where the vibrations of his revving engine were the strongest. She pressed two fingers into his Spark chamber doors and contacted his essence. Then...not quite sure what to do...she made walking motions with her fingertips.

Every part of Optimus clenched in a whole-body spasm. "Ohhh, WOW!"

"Oh!" Mikaela jerked her hand away. Her arm tingled as he dropped backwards, shaking, and laid there with his eyelids closed. His intakes hissed in deep cycles much like human breathing.

"Optimus? Are you okay?"

"I'm...I'm fine." Optimus opened his eyes. "Whatever you just did...do it again."

He trusted her enough to touch his soul. This wasn't an honor he granted just anyone.

Not one to deny, Mikaela resumed exactly what she was doing and Optimus writhed beneath her. No matter how many times she witnessed him in this state, it was always surreal to her. Emotions he usually kept in check flickered over his face. His optics dilated and azure light shone brilliantly around his pupils despite the sunlight shining across his features. Twin eclipses pulled her into their hidden darkness, a nameless realm where love and anger drove each other to electrical ecstasy. He looked nowhere besides her eyes, as if she alone held everything he could ever want in life. Her body reacted and she realized he was making love to her with his gaze alone. He'd been forbidden to touch her, so he used his eyes.

She slowed her fingertips to half their speed and his intake valves released broiling air. Static made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

"M-Mikaela," Optimus groaned. It sounded like pain, but she knew now he felt quite the opposite. "That feels...wonderful!"

Mikaela inserted her fingers completely into his chamber. His actual Spark wasn't hot at all, though it seemed to heat the surrounding area. It had texture--barely substantial like trying to grasp fog--but physical enough to feel it swirl and pulse in response to her touch. Her movements made it sparkle and flare like a tiny supernova.

"Unh!" Optimus tipped his head back, his facial plates grinding together in a slow grimace that made him both precious and fierce. It was truly amazing how stroking a seemingly innocent part of his chest could drive him up the wall.

"Feel good?"

"Very..." He reached up to brush his fingers over her cheek.

Mikaela grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands above his head.

"I said no touching," she whispered, smiling as her fingers resumed their rhythm. "You're being a bad bot."

"I--sincerely--apologize for my...mm...m-my behavioral misconduct," Optimus sputtered, his voice laced in static.

Mikaela watched his Spark swell until it protruded well outside its chamber. She thought it resembled a delicate bubble surrounding a star. Her hand was completely engulfed in its frail outer "shell." All of the energy powering his body was right there around his essence, begging her to release it.

Optimus had pretty much left the building by then. His eyes were fluttering, his intakes cycled a mile a second, he was shaking like a leaf and low moans issued from his half-open mouth. His fate rested entirely in her hands. She moved her fingers back an inch and he arched forward to remain in contact.

"Almost...almost..." He clawed at the ground above his head, "Oh...please...please..."

Mikaela remembered what he said in his confession video and stuck her fingers straight into the light. The glowing shell "popped" and sent brilliant white waves washing backwards into his chest.

"Ohhh!" Optimus slapped his hands down hard on the floor and jerked his head to the side. He met her eyes and growled her name from the depths of his being. Everything about him opened like the clearest sky. She could feel his Spark throbbing in static waves that sent his joints twitching. His innards throbbed so hard she heard the knock-knock sounds of his engine pistons and the whir of his crankshaft. Chaos reigned through his body and he still had enough sense to stare straight into her soul.

"Mikaela..." He whispered. Then his overload tapered off, forcing him offline to reboot his systems. His hologram flickered without fully disappearing.

Mikaela drew back and laid her hands flat on his chest plates. Heat spilled from his intake system while she waited for him to come back online.

Suddenly, Mikaela's world flipped. She found herself on her back with Optimus leaning over her, his face so close their noses nearly touched. Strong metal hands wrapped around her thighs and guided her legs about his waist.

"You aren't the only one who can dominate," he rumbled in her ear. "I seem to recall a certain confession video on a certain website where you mentioned having another dominate and manipulate you was a...powerful turn-on."

Oh, God... Mikaela's entire body burned for him. "Y-yeah...I did."

"Then, Mikaela..." Optimus' voice was audible sex to her ears. And he knew it. He knew. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Melting with desire, she traced his jaw and breathed, "Or what?"

"Or I hold you down." Optimus grasped her wrists, collected them in his left hand and slammed them down against the floor above her head. Not so hard it hurt, but firm enough that he meant business. "Let me see your agony performance in person."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes." He hissed. It was like thunder and explosions ringing through Mikaela's mind. He sat up on his knees, pulling her with him until her weight rested fully in his lap, and rearranged her arms so they were firmly trapped behind her back. She quickly discovered his individual fingers were incredibly strong--his grip felt like handcuffs and no matter how much she pulled she could not break it.

"Mm..." Mikaela trembled at the sensations of hard, hot metal practically wrapped around her body. Optimus had full control, but one word from her and he'd let her go. She could never fully trust anyone this way. He was fulfilling one of her greatest fantasies.

They were face to face, nose to nose, his shining blue optics the only visible objects in her world. His engine cycled in waves and his lip plates came so close they touched her ear. He spoke slightly louder, his voice commanding, "Show me the woman who loses herself."

Mikaela tried to reply. Whatever she wanted to say got lost in the warm stainless steel fingertips sliding under her shirt. They slipped her bra down and she arched when he touched her. His fingers were metal flames driving her into insanity. He massaged her ever so gently while delivering tiny electric shocks that wrenched moans from her throat. Somehow, he held her in a state of almost-pain. Coupled with his engine vibrations she knew she wouldn't last much longer.

"Show me," Optimus brushed his mouth across her neck.

"Ohhh, God..." The world didn't have enough air.

"Show me, Mikaela." His tone reminded her of Erik commanding Christine to sing in The Phantom of the Opera.

"Oh..." Aching heat formed in the pit of her stomach. Sweat layered her face and arms, plastering loose strands of hair to her cheeks. She mewled softly, biting her bottom lip and grinding against him. Her flesh, blood and bones were no longer her own. They were all his.

Optimus grasped her jaw and looked her square in the eyes.

"Show me," he said. "Now!"

That did it.

Mikaela felt the deflagration build and spread and reality swirled as her entire body rocked in delightfully violent spasms. She stopped caring that her face was blotchy, that the veins in her throat stood out and the noises she made sounded like murder. There was nothing in existence beyond glowing azure and sensual thunder.

"Yes, Mikaela," Optimus dropped his voice to its lowest register, "scream for me."

She yelled his name in his audio. That became the only sound she could make--his name. Her ecstasy stretched on and on as if her entire body had become its own orgasm. Sensations flowed and ebbed until the buffeting waves came with less intensity. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the tension gradually abated to pleasant tingling. Her body felt like putty, her internal organs were mush and her mind floated in a pool of satisfaction.

Mikaela felt Optimus release her hands. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Metal lips be damned, she had to kiss him as a thank you for that incredible moment. He pressed gently back, returning it the best he could.

"I've missed your kiss. It's so soft," Optimus whispered. How remarkable! Seconds ago he was this incredibly sexual creature who came onto her like a storm, and in the blink of an eye he'd returned to a gentle, friendly person whose smile was the sun while their shared afterglow became a rainbow. His light and dark sides coexisted seamlessly, never warring for control.

"Um, Mikaela?"

She blinked drowsily, "Huh?"

"You leaked."

"I know. It's your fault."

He chuckled and supported her back while he shifted to sit against the wall with his legs stretched out in front of him. She hardly had to move--and it wasn't like she'd be capable after all the energy she expended. Right now she was content relaxing against his chest.

"I didn't know you liked to be dominated," Mikaela remarked.

"Mmhmm." He closed one eye in a wink, "Sometimes, I enjoy taking orders. Still, it's also just as fun to give them."

Mikaela smiled and let her head drop onto his shoulder. She traced his right cheek until her fingertip encountered the glyph engraved in the metal.

"What is this for?"

"It's my name." Optimus said.

"Oh." Her eyes drifted up to his helm when a scratch on middle of his forehead caught the light. Except it wasn't a scratch; it was a script-like symbol engraved into the chrome. It looked vaguely like a number three and a stylized lowercase 'h' sitting on a fence.

No, not just a symbol, it had a meaning. The word flitted in and out of her head from nowhere like a dream.

Prime.

The etchings all over his left cheek, helm and ear finials started to swim and glow gold like holographic projections. Mikaela wiped her eyes and the strange flickering stopped. Optimus didn't notice her lapse and went on talking.

"Our text is...it's many times more complex than yours. The information Sam was seeing was the language of the Primes, which not many know. Modern Cybertronian is simpler to us...but probably endlessly complicated to you. One character may encompass several meanings depending on the context in which it is used. There is also an 'alphabet' for foreign language syllables. However, your name is rather unique. It's an actual word in my language. Here." He stole the stub of a pencil she always kept in her back pocket and dragged a fallen Sears receipt closer so he could print her name. His handwriting was absolutely pristine, and he dotted the "i" with a circle rather than tapping it. Then he moved down and drew lines and curls that resembled a stylized, upside down triangle standing up on two curving legs. "This is what it looks like written down."

She blinked and tore her eyes off the paper. "What does it mean?"

Optimus met her gaze and his expression softened. "Love."

Mikaela felt her face flushing.

He chuckled, writing the symbol for his name inside the triangle of hers, turning it into one large glyph. "And this is how a bonded pair writes their names. Usually a bonded name is engraved on the inside rim of the Spark chamber by someone specially trained. It's very painful and ceremonial, but..." There was veiled bitterness hiding behind his words. "...it is meant to represent all the pain two lovers won't have to suffer."

Mikaela leaned up and brushed her lips over the mark on his cheek. She again noticed the many engravings on his audios and ear finials--but feared focusing too long would make her hallucinate again. Wow, I must be tired...

"I'm sorry."

"No. Don't be." Optimus patted her cheek with the pencil and slipped it back into her pocket. "Fate has yielded its reward and I am holding it right now. You don't need to apologize for that." Then he said something that would stick to her mind forever. "I believe in Fate. I believe it has a hand in shaping our lives. With that in mind, I've begun to wonder if what we have now is the love we were destined to find. I came to Earth in pursuit of Megatron and you were there because you followed Sam. So that leaves me wondering if the greatest loves of our lives are the least obvious."

The least obvious. Mikaela gazed intently into his shimmering optics and nodded. "Romance was pretty far from my mind when I watched a truck mutate into you."

His eyes smiled, though his mouth did not. "I was intent on what I had to do. It...it was a suicide mission, Mikaela. I honestly had no plans beyond destroying the Cube. Sometimes I think Fate had a hand in that as well. Had it been me, would it have become what I saw when the computer virus temporarily extinguished my Spark? What if Megatron's evil was built up to be a gateway for the Cube to break? Didn't the same thing happen when a biblical figure died for the sins of the people and returned to life?"

"Oh, Jesus' life is a complicated story. But yeah, basically, minus the turning evil part--He defeated death itself. There wouldn't be a Heaven otherwise."

"Then I wonder if Megatron's fate was to do the same."

Mikaela didn't answer because she didn't know what to say to something that deep. "What do you think?"

He thought for a few moments. "I believe this whole situation has a higher purpose I can't yet comprehend."

"There you go." She bumped his nose with hers and the sadness in his eyes melted. "That's faith, Optimus."

"It's a nice feeling."

"Good." Mikaela braced herself on his shoulders and stood up. "Argh. I need to get in the bathroom and get out of these underwear. They're riding up my butt."

Optimus laughed, "Wedgies sound incredibly unpleasant."

"Only for those who have a butt."

"Hey!" He pretended to look offended. "It isn't the size that matters, it's how one uses it."

The statement had so many disgusting meanings that Mikaela snickered all the way to the bathroom.

.o

It took three months to find a job--just long enough for her to stop puking at the mention of certain foods. A lot of places didn't want her when they found out she'd require maternity leave, so her choices were extremely limited. From the endless applications she filled out, it was the gas station right on the edge of town that decided to hire her. It sat next to a major railway, so the howl of freight trains was common throughout the night.

She was hired as a cashier, her hours stretching from seven in the evening until one in the morning when the liquor store closed down for the night. The pay and insurance sucked--it was such a dumpy place that the security cameras were fake and connected to nothing--but she could afford prenatal vitamins and that was all she cared about. Another benefit of the job was using the cards Sector 7 gave to the Autobots. Every few weeks, one of the other Autobots would pop in for a refuel. Mikaela encouraged them to try their human-sized bot holograms, but they weren't as eager to use them as Optimus was.

Speaking of Optimus...he made sure she was never bored. Business tended to die completely after nine o'clock, so he'd materialize his hologram behind the counter with her. Sometimes they watched old sitcoms on the tiny TV the owner of the place stashed under the counter. Other times, they just talked--usually while Optimus perused the contents of the store. That in itself amused Mikaela to no end. A robot walking the short aisles, browsing everything from food to candy to cheap toys. Somehow, he memorized the prices on everything and kept excellent track of the money in the till. If nobody came around at the end of the night, she'd let him count the cash. Now that was a sight in itself: Optimus went through paper money as fast, if not faster, than an ATM machine, and rolled coins with the efficiency of assembly line machinery.

"You're holding the ultimate power in your hands, you know," Mikaela told him one night.

Optimus ruffled the bills he was counting. "How so?"

"Money can get you anything if you have enough. It can make people talk...or shut them up."

"It's almost more trouble than it's worth." Optimus glanced at the neat stack of tens he just set down in the till. "How strange though..." He shifted when Mikaela picked up a quarter, and went on, "...that some think paper and metal will grant them happiness."

Mikaela set the coin flat on her thumbnail, flicked it up and caught it. Over and over, just like her dad used to do. "Greed. It sucks. Money is power and power corrupts...but you'd know that more than anybody." She tossed the coin again.

Optimus snatched the quarter mid-flight, balanced it on his thumb and flipped it up into the air, catching it again in his fist with a loud ping. He did it faster than Mikaela could, and Mikaela swallowed the sudden urge to call him Johnny Five. "Power corrupts when greed enters the picture, and unfortunately even the kindest person succumbs to it on occasion." Then he gave the coin a last flip and caught it perfectly in the paper roll. He smiled when he held it out to her. "There are things in life that have no price, yet are too expensive to lose. Love...a person's soul...both intangible and precious."

Mikaela accepted the roll of quarters that felt like a heavy burden on her palm. Money was power, and power dragged people down. She thought briefly of Megatron going insane with the power from the Cube. A shiver ran down her spine. She quickly discarded the roll of quarters in the till and locked the cash register.

"Think we can swing by MacDonald's on the way back to the warehouse? I could use a Big Mac."

Optimus smiled at her. "Who is asking? You, or the baby?"

"Both of us. Now c'mon, I'm seriously hungry."

The very next night, Mikaela found a reason to hate her job.

"These don't look very nutritious," Optimus inclined his head towards the disgusting-looking corndogs lying under a glass warming lamp.

"You need to have a steel stomach to eat those. They kill people."

His eyes widened. "Why would you sell poison?"

Mikaela laughed, "I'm kidding! It's just the food probably isn't that good. They can sit around for a week before we toss them. I wouldn't eat one fresh anyway. God knows whose hands were on them before they got here."

He made a face. "That doesn't sound very sanitary."

"I'm sure it'd give Ratchet the heebie-jeebies."

"He does have a small fear of having organic material contaminate his internals. A mech can become infested with mold if he doesn't maintain himself regularly, especially in places with high humidity." Optimus rapped on the cracked gray countertop, "It's not a fatal condition. Just...annoying."

"Sounds like you've been there."

"I have. Oops, company. Disappearing now."

Mikaela faced the door while the air beside her became suddenly empty without Optimus' presence. Two Latino men walked in without acknowledging her and made a beeline for the beer in the back. Both wore black wife beaters and the tallest of the two had something in Spanish tattooed across his left shoulder.

"Hey, Miguel, check out that piece of ass behind the counter," whispered the shorter one.

Mikaela pretended not to hear. She was used to this.

"Prob'ly too young. Anyway...Omar, did you see that big rig sittin' outside? How much you think a custom job like that's worth eh?"

"Way more than you've got."

"Chinga te!"

They laughed and finally made their way towards the counter with a six pack of Corona beer. Omar, the one with a tattoo, was older than Mikaela first realized. He had a mustache and stubble around his chin, and the smell of ground beef clung around his hands. Probably just got off work in the food business somewhere.

"Hey, sweet thing. Got any Marlboro's?"

"Sure," Mikaela reached under the counter and laid the cigarettes next to the beer. "Will that be all?"

"Yup."

She rang up their purchases. Miguel paid her while Omar wandered to the door to peer at Optimus, who was parked off to the side of the liquor store, but still within sight of the road. He really couldn't fit anywhere else without blocking access to the gas pumps.

"Know anything about that truck out there?"

"It's my boyfriend's," Mikaela said casually. "He lets me drive once in awhile."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." She loved how this messed with their heads.

Omar turned quickly from the door and grabbed the cigarettes out of the bag. "Right. Well, have a good night, lady."

"Night," Miguel added.

Mikaela waved to them as they stepped out the door. She could hear them chattering in Spanish while they walked away.

The dirty wall clock above the door clicked over to one o'clock. Finally...Mikaela was sleepy and wanted to go to bed. She made the rounds just like her manager, Joe, showed her--shutting off lights, locking things up and putting her profits in a safe in the back. Lastly, she locked the front doors, jiggling them to make sure they were secure. It was as routine as brushing her teeth or tying her shoes.

Someone tapped her shoulder.

"'Scuse me," Omar said, "I--think I forgot something."

Mikaela barely managed to breathe in the life he'd scared out of her. "What was it? I'll go in and get it."

"Aw, that's fine. It's right here."

She heard the click of a revolver cocking and her blood froze. Her mouth ran dry while her heart raced a million miles an hour. By instinct, she blurted out, "Oh, God...don't shoot. I'm pregnant!"
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