Looking up at Mirage at that, Cliffjumper stared for a moment and then smothered the half-laughter in a snort, rolling his optics. At least that made his embarrassment from his slip evaporate all the faster, so as long as nothing else similar to that happened, he'd be okay.

"You'd still be in here, wouldn't ya? So invisible or not that ain't gonna make it easier to pace." Glancing away and letting his engine rumble, Cliffjumper scowled. "Would be somethin' to do at least..."

Because there really wasn't much of anything to do in here, and he had no idea how to hold a conversation with Mirage of all mechs, even disregarding all the stupid, embarrassing slag that had happened between them up until now or the fact that he had a stupid and utterly foolish crush on the noble.

And if he started talking despite all those things, he might have another slip... or accidentally reveal what was actually bothering him with the elevator. Claustrophobia? Hardly.

To distract himself, he pulled out a mesh cloth and his glass gas gun, going over it with the cloth. He'd take out the new blasted he'd been requisitioned and pull it apart and then back together again, but that might make it harder to convince the medics his hand was fine if he stressed it too much...

"... They musta hit ya hard for the mod to still be out."