Doing the Right Thing

By Sapphire

Word count: 2158

Characters: Mikaela and Ironhide

Summary: After the battle in Mission City, Mikaela and Ironhide talk

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Transformers doesn't belong to me (which is probably a good thing)

AN: the idea for that story was born a long time ago. This is my third attempt on it, and just because it wouldn't let me go. The recent 'Why do some fans hate Mikaela?' discussion had also some part in it. Obviously, I'm in the 'I like Mikaela' faction (at least as a character), so if you don't like her, you probably won't like that fic either.

Thanks to Macx and LauraB for beta (without them the Bots would hang out in 'hangers' and Mikaela would 'plush') – all errors left are mine.

The room was dark except for a sliver of light creeping in through a narrow gap underneath the door. At one time the room had been an office, shelves with books and papers occupying one side of the wall. But now the desk and chair had been pushed against the shelves, and two narrow cots took up most of the remaining floor space.

Mikaela stared at the ceiling, her eyes, even though adapted to the darkness, barely making out the contents of the room. For quite a while she had tried to find sleep, but every time she closed her eyes the events of the last night intruded into her thoughts, and her eyes snapped open again.

Next to her, on the other cot, Sam was obviously not plagued by her problems. His deep breathing was a clear indicator that the young man was soundly asleep, though she was not sure how he managed to do that. Compared to her own experiences, Sam had gone through so much more than she had. All that had really happened to her was to land in the middle of a fight between giant, alien robots - which was bad enough. But Sam had been in the very center of it, had been the target of several of the Deceptions. Add to that falling from a ten-story building and in the end being the one to kill the biggest and badest of the robots, whatever she had gone through had been pretty harmless.

Well, being chased by big robots was probably also very exhausting, so maybe it shouldn't surprise her too much that he had managed to fall asleep the moment he had found himself in a horizontal position.

After the battle, the military had thought it prudent to clear the center of Mission City of any Autobots or Decepticons as quickly as possible. Mikaela guessed that they wanted to try to keep the whole situation as hush-hush as possible, though how they hoped to achieve this with a hundred or so witnesses was beyond her. The bodies of the dead robots had been loaded on three large semi trucks and Optimus and the others had transformed into their car forms, ready to roll out. The only problem had been Bumblebee, who, due to the damage he had received, had been unable to change into the bright yellow Camero he normally was. Ratchet had taken one long look at the smaller Autobot and had decided that it would be best to leave him as he was hooked to the tow truck Mikaela had 'found' for 'Bee.

As for some reason they wanted her to drive the truck, she and the whole convoy had taken off from Mission City and had found their way to some military air base not too far away. An empty hangar at the edge of the air strip had been big enough to admit the whole group, even allowing Optimus and the others to stand upright once inside.

Ratchet had lost no time to find a place where he could start working on Bumblebee, and Sam and Mikaela had offered their help, which, surprisingly, had been accepted by the yellow-green 'Bot. So for the better part of the afternoon and the evening, she and Sam had worked on cleaning out robot parts, their smaller hands able to reach into crevices and corners Ratchet could not access so easily. Meanwhile the medic/mechanic worked on other things, his hands changing into a different set of tools every so often.

Only when Sam hadn't been able to hide his yawns, his head nodding every so often, Ratchet had asked - or rather ordered - them to go off to get some sleep, though he had called it 'recharge'. Somebody then had pointed them to the small office in one corner of the hangar.

The deep, even breathing from the cot next to her suddenly changed, faltering for a second, only to be replaced by a small moan.

"No, please, no," Sam whimpered. "No."

Mikaela's eyes searched for Sam's face, but it was too dark to make anything out. So she reached out, seeking his arm, his hand, by touch alone.

"Shhhh," she whispered, leaning over, stroking the hand softly. "Shhh, you are safe here. It's all over."

There were a few more incomprehensible words, another mutter of 'no, please, no', but after a minute or so he settled back down, his breathing deepening once more, and he was back asleep.

Mikaela allowed her hand to linger a little bit longer. She was well aware that if Sam knew she had just hushed him back to sleep, he probably would be mortified. After all, he was a male, seventeen years old teenager, and having nightmares, or rather admitting to having nightmares, was something that certainly wouldn't count as cool and would not fit into the normal macho attitude somebody in his age bracket would like to present.

But then, maybe not. Sam was different, not at all like the boys she had hung out with until a few days ago. Trent would deny anything ever happened and nightmares, hah, he would say that nightmares were only something for whussies, not 'real men' like himself. But then, she was sure that Trent would never even be where Sam was now, because, try as she might, she couldn't imagine him ever risking his life like Sam had today. Or showing his anguish and fighting like Sam had when Bumblebee had been captured by the Sector Seven guys. Or even stepping out and claiming friendship to a mute alien robot.

How had Sam put it? There's more to you than meets the eyes?

Well, if that wasn't true for Sam.

With one last stroke over Sam's hand, she let go and rose from her cot.

She just couldn't go to sleep and lying around here and staring up on the nearly invisible ceiling wouldn't change a thing.

She grabbed her shoes, then tiptoed to the door. As she opened it, the lights from the hangar beyond flooded the room, illuminating Sam's form. He looked peaceful.

Outside, she slipped into her shoes and looked around. The three semis with the remains of the Deceptions and Jazz where parked to one side. Next to them, wedged into a corner, Ratchet was still working over Bumblebee. There was no trace of Optimus Prime, which, considering his size, probably meant that he was outside somewhere. One half of the hangar doors was open and Ironhide's upright form stood there, looking outside.

As she was aware that Ratchet would just try to send her back to bed, she decided to try her luck with the weapons specialist. She hadn't actually talked with him before, except for that little scene when he had introduced himself - and his guns - to Sam and her.

"Hi," she said, as she walked over to stand next to Ironhide's feet.

She noticed, once again, that she barely reached to his shin, driving home the fact how big he really was. He could easily stand next to her aunt's house and hide the place behind him without even trying very hard.

With that weird whirring and clicking sound she somehow had started to associate with the big robot's movement, he turned and lowered himself to one knee. He hunched, bringing his face onto the same level as her own head, reminding her of the pose Optimus Prime had adopted when he had talked with Sam. His eyes studied her.

"Why are you not in recharge?" he asked, sounding gruff, but somehow Mikaela didn't think that he was really angry at her. "I believe Ratchet ordered you to do so."

"Yeah, but I can't fall asleep. Too much going on in my head. Sam's sleeping though."

He looked at her a little longer, then nodded his head by a fraction. He rose again in a fluid move that belied his size and bulk, and returned to his watch of the outside world.

Taking this as a permission to stay, Mikaela settled down just inside the door frame, following Ironhide's gaze.

It was in the middle of the night, and most of the lights in the air base had been switched off. Particular the buildings next to the hangar were shrouded in darkness, the light of the full moon just bright enough to make it possible to see their outlines. About two hundred yards away she could make out the shapes of cars, a long line forming a half circle around this side of the hangar. Once in the while she saw smaller shapes moving from one vehicle to another or the glow of a cigarette lightening up.

Well, it looked like the army wasn't quite convinced that the Autobots were really friendlies. No wonder Ironhide looked a bit on edge.

"Where's Optimus?" she asked when the silence became too much for her.

"He's meeting with some of your politicians." He practically spat out the last word.

Mikaela chuckled softly. "Not a big fan of politics, I take it," she said. Then a thought came to her. "Do you guys have politicians on Cybertron?"

"Yes," Ironhide growled. "They always made things ... complicated."

"Isn't that true?" Mikaela responded. Who would have thunk, she thought, politics, a universal concept. But then, Ironhide didn't strike her exactly like somebody who would be happy with politics, be it on his planet or on hers. He was more a shoot or no shoot, nothing between that, personality.

"May I ask you a question?" he suddenly said in the middle of her ponderings. His face was again leveled with her head and she hadn't even noticed.

She gulped, but then nodded. "Sure."

"You are a civilian, right?"

Wondering where this was leading, she nodded again. "Yeah, certainly not a soldier or anything like that. I'm still going to high school."

"During the fight you had more than one chance to reach safety. But you chose not to. Instead you turned around and went back into the fight. Why?"

Good question. One she had actually asked herself already. The memory of that moment was etched into her mind, was one of the reasons she couldn't go to sleep.

Hitching Bumblebee to the back to that tow truck had been something she hadn't even thought about. She had seen the truck standing in that side alley and there had been no question that she had to do something to get 'Bee out of that battlefield. To her it had been the same as pulling somebody from the wreck of a car or rescuing somebody from drowning. It had been the right thing to do, and the fact that the person in need was an alien robot instead of a fellow human had made no real difference to her.

But turning around once she had gotten Bumblebee to safety, driving the truck back into the middle of the fire fight once again, that was something far more difficult to explain. To Ironhide and to herself.

"Well," she started, trying to put her thoughts into order. "I saw that large Decepticon making short work of Captain Lennox and his crew. Sam was off trying to get the Cube to safety, you and Ratchet covering for him. Optimus ... I didn't see Optimus, no idea where he was. There was nobody else but me and Bumblebee. I just had to hope that the weapon in his arm was still working and that it would be enough. Didn't figure on those rocker launchers in his shoulder, though."

She shrugged with a sheepish grin.

"So you say, you did what you did, because you were the only one who could do it?"

Another shrug and a small nod. "Yeah, pretty much. Bee was certainly all for it. And, well, those Decepticons, they were killing my people in my city ... on my planet. It's not something you stand by and just watch."

For a long moment Ironhide regarded her quietly. Then his face plates shifted into something that resembled an approving smile.

"It seems that my preconception of you humans has been wrong. I thought you to be primitive and violent. You are in a way, but you are also courageous and compassionate. And that's a rare trait in any race, on any planet. Optimus has chosen well in his allies."

He rose once more, not seeing how a deep blush colored Mikaela's cheeks.

Mikaela remained next to Ironhide for another couple of minutes, contemplating the night beyond the hangar, until a big yawn suddenly split her face and she stretched to work out a few kinks in her back.

"Guess I'm ready for sleep after all. Night, Ironhide."

The giant robot didn't move, but she heard a rumbled 'Good night, Mikaela', as she turned and walked back to the little office in the corner.

Maybe she would be able to sleep now.

the end