Title: New Moon 5 - Watches
Fandom: Bayverse, DotM
Authors: femme4jack
Characters: Sam Witwicky, Charlotte Mearing, Mikaela Banes, Jazz
Chapter Rating: R
Summary: A follow up ficlet to "It's Not You"
Notes: Written for Artemis10002000 who requested a follow up to "It's Not You" to find out whether Mikaela managed to outsmart Soundwave and escape. This is not related to the other ficlets in this series. I've imported a few of our ideas from Patronus.

WARNINGS: Cussing, Bot!Mik

Sam tuned out Mearing, looking hard at the watch, and found himself haunted by a memory that he had tried hard to bleach from his head.

It had happened shortly before Mikaela had walked out, leaving everything behind that had supposedly mattered to her. He had noticed a new watch - an expensive one, and had demanded that she tell him who had given it to her. Her answer had been that a client had brought his rare car into the shop, and that had only raised more jealous questions and accusations.

His last glimpse of her had been watching her get into the Mercedes that had driven up to her as she stormed down the road outside their apartment. She had looked so angry, but now he realized that it had been pain. Pain and fear hiding under her rage and determination. And remembering that moment when he thought she had driven away with her client, he realized he recognized the car.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath. She had completely disappeared: no calls, no emails, like she had completely dropped off the planet.

"Excuse me?" Mearing said.

"Shit... I need to take a shit. There's a... shitter ... on this this plane, right?"

"Thanks for sharing, and yes, in the back. You okay, Witwicky?"

"I'm fine... just... I have to go."

Sam raced to the back of the plane and slammed the door behind him before he puked.

"I could have told the Autobots... oh fuck, Mik, I could have saved you!"

But no, jealous prick that he was, he'd simply assumed she was shallow enough to run off with some rich client who was doing her on the hood of of non-sentient cars that cost a lot more than four thousand dollars.

His watch just seemed to stare at him with smug superiority.

The femme was furious about being ordered to stay on the base deep inside the Valles Marineris on Mars. Oh sure, she understood the need to keep some of the Autobots off both the human and Decepticon radar, and thus far, neither group had managed to find out about their sanctuary.

But she knew from the look in Jazz's optics that they were not holding her in reserve for the same reasons as the rest of the ragtag crew of Autobots recovering from injuries or newly arrived.

After what she had been through, the events that had led her to become what she now was, Optimus and the others could not bear to have her back in harm's way. They were protecting her, and slag it, that was the last thing she wanted.

She traced the emblem on her slate black chest, and remembered the oaths she had taken when it had been carved into the protoform underneath her armor.

She would follow orders, but she was not just going to sit idle on Mars while the rest of her cohort put their sparks between her homeworld and hundreds of 'Cons.

"All right, what can we do to mess those fraggers up from here, boss?" she asked the silver mech.

"Mik, ya took the words right outta mah vocalizer," Jazz said.