He couldn't help it. He just stared through the clerestory window of her loft apartment in the facility they'd been allotted.

Maggie had been cornered into becoming ambassador between the Autobots and the State Department. It was just easier to have her on hand, so they'd agreed to set up an apartment for her here.

He hadn't thought it would be such…temptation. Educational, yes, but tempting?

She was an organic, afterall. He'd break her like frail, rusted metal if he even so much as looked at her wrong…

Okay, maybe not, because he MUST be looking at her wrong, now…

He couldn't bring himself to stop. She was fascinating.

She was alone, cleaning her space, picking up clothes and what-not but that wasn't what was so hypnotic.

It was the way she was doing it.

What he couldn't tear his optics away from was the way she was…gyrating…to some sort of music. He did a search. Some band called Placebo. Odd name.

A further search of the lyrics revealed the song was called Space Monkey. Very odd name.

Not as odd as what he felt watching her dance to it.

No, she wasn't dancing. This wasn't the perfunctory definition of a Waltz or Fox Trot. This was erotic gyration.

His metal body couldn't dream of moving so fluidly.

He leaned closer to the building, bracing his hands against the eaves to get a better look at her as she sashayed across the floor out of his line of vision. He knew from previous…research…that such movements closely mimicked sex in humans. She dipped and rose her bottom in the air, waggling at him.

As if she knew he was there.

But she couldn't. Didn't.

He looked up and around. No one else did either.

He felt like a botling stealing his first glance at sparking.

His hands crinkled the eaves before he could think about it. Or after he'd thought too much on other things. She looked up at the sound and he quickly backed away, out of sight.

And tripped over a parking block with a resounding BOOM! Landing right on his aft.

Of all things, a fragging parking block. It was smaller than his finger and he tripped over it like a lust-stricken organic.

He could just imagine her rushing to the eye-level window in the next room, so he transformed faster than he had in a long time so all she saw was his alt mode. Her lights went out in that room.

She had to be looking.

It was more amusing than embarrassing.

Well…in for a penny, in for a pound as they said here on Earth.

He generated the holoform he and Ratchet had been working on and walked to the breezeway leading to her door.

He checked his reflection in the darkened glass. They'd scoured the internet for an appropriate image for his holoform. It seemed all right.

Dark hair, slightly longer than average, a bit wavy. Thick. Strong eyebrows, straight nose, high cheekbones and firm lips. If pressed too hard, he'd admit to modeling a bit after the British actor Pierce Brosnan, but that was if one really looked hard. The eyes were what startled him the most. Instead of glowing orbs of illumination, they were glittering liquid pools. Still blue. That was important.

Other than that, his vanity had pressed for a well-hewn musculature. If he could have what he wanted, why not? He assumed his button down linen shirt and matching slacks were casual enough. They certainly felt comfortable. With the amount of humidity these organics had to deal with, both of their own making and of the environment's, it seemed imperative to have clothing that breathed well.

He'd just caught the movement on the landing out of the corner of his eye as he reached forward and pressed the buzzer to call her to the door.

She opened it immediately, breathless from running down the stairs.

"Can I help you?"

She seemed pleased with what she saw, but could she not realize who he was? This body felt different, but reacted in many of the same ways. He knitted his brow in confusion and greeted her, "Hello, Maggie Madsen."

She looked a bit adorably confused. Her mouth hung open as she registered that he was the only one who ever addressed her by her full name.

"Op-timus?" She looked him up and down, eyes resting for a moment on his hands, shoulders, and lips. Hmmm…

"Yes." He stepped back, held out his hands palm up and turned in a slow circle. He couldn't resist looking back at her before he completed the turn and what he saw was gratifying.

She'd been looking at his aft…ass.

He knew enough about the human reproductive response to understand that she was signaling approval.

"Ratchet and I worked out the last of the kinks this morning. Do you think it will facilitate our meetings?"

"G-ah…"

She just stood there, staring with both her hands bracing against the doorway. He stood and watched her patiently, hoping she'd invite…

Her concentration gathered and she backed into the stairwell, holding the door open. "Wanna come in?"

"Yes, I'd like that." He smiled at her and she looked as hypnotized as he'd been watching her dance. He stepped towards her, but she didn't step back enough to really let his larger frame in the door.

So his smile turned to a grin as he had to brush against her to step inside. As soon as he was in, she fell back against the glass door and locked it. He quirked an eyebrow, she quirked one back and darted past him up the stairs.

Stairs.

He hadn't used a set of these since leaving Cybertron. Well, the experience should be novel. He jogged up the stairs and altered his shoes as he reached the first landing to a thicker sole with better grip.

She waited for him in front of her loft door, caught by the alteration he did. "Can you do that with any part of your holoform?" She promptly blushed, and he would have if he hadn't been having so much fun watching her do it.

"I believe so, yes." He reached the upper landing and stood less than five inches from her. Her breathing increased in speed, which in turn made her chest rise and fall at a higher rate.

Her hand was fisted on the door knob, so he reached around her with relish and felt her body temperature rise as his hand covered hers and twisted the knob. It opened towards them. Hmm. That brought her up against him. Quite nicely. He could feel her breath against his skin in short little puffs.

It smelled like coffee, which was incredibly pleasing. "Do you have any coffee left?" His voice was so quiet in this form. It felt different…in his throat. It was a wonderful sensation.

She looked perplexed, but nodded and slipped from between him and the door, into the loft.

He smiled and followed, closing the door behind him.

Another song by the same band drifted somberly into the room. A lyric search provided "My Sweet Prince" as the title. Hmm…

He looked around. Sparse furnishings and belongings, simple accoutrements, nothing very feminine.

That was somewhat disappointing. He'd imagined her having more feminine surroundings.

But this suited his tastes well. Surprising.

She brought him a cup of coffee that had the word "Baditude" screen printed on the side. He chuckled and brought the dark brew to his nose to enjoy the aroma. Its steam was warm, fragrant, and wet. It was very pleasing.

She hovered in front of him, looking like she had a thousand questions ready to spill from her lips. Such nicely soft looking lips.

"Did you wish to ask me something?" He asked behind a sip of coffee. It charged into his mouth, nearly scalding his tongue. Well, he knew his saliva glands were working. He swallowed the mouthful of flavor and felt the heat travel down his esophagus. He and Ratchet had deliberated how detailed the holoform should be and decided that for educational purposes, details were necessary.

Yes. Educational purposes.

Like the one staring at him from under a blonde fringe, shaking her head.

Very educational. He searched the web for ways to begin his seduction. It couldn't be that different.

Everyone liked to feel good, and feel good about themselves.

He certainly knew she was making him feel great with all those hot looks she kept sneaking between sips of her own coffee.

He deliberated for a moment which tactic to use.

He decided that honesty would be the best way to get her thinking. "I…saw you…dancing."

Her eyes flared. "When? Just now?"

He nodded and glanced at the clerestory windows. She followed his gaze. "Oh. Okay." She seemed at a loss for words, which as long as he'd known her, was unusual.

Perhaps she needed prompting. "It was interesting. Nothing I could find the steps to online." He placed his coffee down on the countertop behind her, purposefully invading her space again.

"Um." She stepped away, further into the room. "Yeah, that was something I was just…doing." She waved a hand around and landed it back on a coffee cup that read "Grammatically Correct".

The juxtaposition of her words and the cup made him smile. She was adorable.

"I wonder if you could show me." At her panicked expression, which was really…cute…he amended, "how to dance. It looks like fun."

"I, uh, well…" She looked to be warring with herself. He decided to make her decision easier and removed her coffee cup from her hands, placing it on the countertop behind him. "I wasn't finished with that." He looked back at her annoyed tone. Perhaps not annoyed, but still panicking…

"It's okay." He stepped closer, held out a hand towards her cheek. She stood still, so he took another step. One more and he was close enough to place his hand slowly against her face and the other at her bare shoulder. "I'll heat it up for you." There were times when he thoroughly enjoyed the innuendo one could achieve with Earth's languages and this was definitely one of them.

Her skin was so soft. Firm and sleek, but soft. And warm. His fingertips slid down in front of her ear and back up, savoring the feathery down, there. The other hand rounded against the knob of her shoulder and slid down her arm slowly.

Supple was the word that came to mind.

The music was rather compliant with his movements. It was a nice counterpoint when he slid his hand from her elbow to her waist.

Ah, she was wearing a very soft material and he couldn't resist rubbing his thumb against it.

He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and a set of mirrored touches. One hand against his face, one on his shoulder, curling up from behind.

"H-have you ever danced before?"

He refrained from pointing out that he'd said as much by asking her to teach him, so he just smiled and shook his head. He dropped the hand from her face to bracket the other at her waist.

She kept her hand on his face and shoulder. The one on his face cupped and rubbed his cheek. She stared at her thumb as she rasped it against his beard growth. He was very glad to have invested so much into the details. The fascination in her gaze was very worth the time and effort.

He saw denial alter her gaze as she braced both hands against his shoulders, pushed back and quickly countered with holding tighter to her waist.

"You can't be…"

"I am. You saw me generate, I know you did."

She shook her head in denial, eyes widening at his accusation. It was a guess, but he could have sworn… "You saw me."

"I…saw…" He saw the information register in her eyes. So readable. The moment she accepted it, he pulled her closer, up against him.

"Show me. Please."

Her hands stayed perched on his shoulders, her eyes staring into his, his thumbs rubbing along her obliques. He felt his temperature rise in answer to hers.

Her hands creeped closer to his neck.

It was all he needed as signal enough to dive in for his first human kiss.

She squealed a little, but soon melted into it. He growled in triumph and wrapped his arms around her back, flattening her upper body to him.