”Look, Optimus! This skirt would be perfect for the party!” Tessa’s voice was bright as she held up a pleated leather skirt. Optimus, who had been half zoned out, nodded. It was aa practiced, almost imperceptible tilt of his head. He had learned long ago that simple affirmations often sufficed to keep the human girl happy. Optimus wondered briefly why he was here, not as acommander or aprotector, but as an obliging escort. He wondered why he had agreed to escort the girl shopping, considering the loud din of the all was mildly overwhelming and he had very little knowledge of human fashion.

They were in a clothing store, a vast expanse of fabric designed, apparently, to entice customers. Rows upon rows of garments hung like abandoned husks, each one barely distinguishable to Optimus.

He observed Tessa picking up numerous items, examining them with an intensity that Optimus found mildly confusing before discarding them with a sigh. The inefficiency of the process was staggering to him. A Prime prioritised function, durability, and strategic application. These items, he deduced, fulfilled none of those criteria beyond the most basic of coverings.

His gaze, though outwardly calm, meticulously swept the surroundings. He registered the floor plan, looking for exits. He noted the security cameras, the staff moving with a practiced, almost robotic, rhythm, the general flow of human traffic. He was looking for an escape, a way to slip off before Tessa could notice.

Tessa, currently engrossed in a debate over the merits of a 'cropped top' versus a 'tunic,' had wandered a few paces ahead. Her attention was fully on the task at hand. That was good. Optimus shifted his weight, allowing his eyes to linger on a dimly lit service corridor marked 'Staff Only' just beyond a rack of brightly coloured scarves. It was partially obscured with a narrow entrance. Perhaps if he just slipped away and claimed he was looking for water he could escape.

He considered the consequences, Tessa would be momentarily inconvenienced, perhaps even mildly annoyed, but there would be no lasting harm. He could always rendezvous at a pre-determined exfil point. Perhaps the entrance of the food court where he could at least acquire synthetic nutrients without having to engage in this frivolous outing.

He rumbled softly, tracking the staffs movements as he subtly positioned himself where he could slip away unnoticed.