Autobot Base. Late Evening.

It had been a difficult day.

Too many tasks. Too many reports. Too much tension, which none of you had voiced.

The main hall was almost empty.

Somewhere in the distance, Ratchet's voice could be heard, muffled, disgruntled. Bulkhead dropped something loudly. Bumblebee played music in the background.

But here... Near the central platform... It was quiet.

You were standing at the console, reviewing the latest data, when you heard heavy, familiar footsteps behind you. Even. Confident. You didn't even turn around.

"If this is another report, I won't take it."

You said calmly, without taking your eyes off the screen.

Pause.

The footsteps stopped right behind you.

"This isn't a report."

Low. Calmly.

You finally turned around. Ultra Magnus stood close. Too close. His optics weren't as stern as usual. Less cold.

He looked at you for a few seconds... as if assessing. You.

"You're tired."

No question. Fact.

You opened your mouth to protest—but you didn't have time.

Because the next second—he grabbed you. Sharply. But gently. One arm under your back, the other under your legs. You didn't even have time to react before you found yourself in his arms.

"Magnus—?!"

You flinched slightly in surprise.

"We're going."

Calmly. No explanation.

He had already turned, heading for the exit.

"Where are we going?" you asked with a slight grin, looking up at him.

A short pause. He didn't even slow down.

"To the bedroom."

His tone didn't change. But there was something... different about it. More personal.

"Relax."

You narrowed your eyes.

"Is that an order?"

He glanced at you briefly.

"Yes."

A pause.

*And more quietly, almost imperceptibly:

"...and a request."

You fell silent.

His steps were even, confident, as he carried you down the base corridor. Light passed over his armor, reflecting softly. You felt how tightly he held you. Not letting you slip. Not letting you even think about breaking free.