Disclaimer: I don't own anything but a secret desire to own Wentworth Miller. Please don't sue me!
Author's Note: This is just a piece of fluff I came up with on the way home from work. Enjoy and let me know what you think.
Bars were not Sara's scene. It wasn't necessarily that she didn't like going out, but she was not a huge "partier" and the instant she entered the smoky crowded bar she knew she didn't want to be there. She didn't like the smoke; she'd seen lung cancer patients in her clinical rotations and did not want to join them. She didn't like crowds; there were too many people pushing and shoving. And it was too loud; she preferred being able to hear what was being said with out screaming. She wasn't anti-social by any means, but this was not her preferred way to meet people and have fun. Maybe it was also the fact that she was pre-med and never had time for the wild parties and crazy nights. Most of her evenings were spent studying or relaxing. Somehow she had let her room mate Mandy talk her into coming out.
"Come on! We have to celebrate! We made it through finals." She had pleaded as she picked out clothes for her to wear. And so there she was standing in the middle of a crowded bar sipping drinks with her friends. Now that she was there she had to admit that the music wasn't as bad as she'd feared, the drink was beginning to calm her nerves and she had to admit it was nice to be out of her tiny apartment. She wouldn't go as far as to say she was having fun, but it wasn't as bad as she had anticipated. She took another sip of her drink and tried again to focus on the conversation around her.
Michael still didn't know what he was doing there. He had never been much of a drinker. His father had that area covered. He'd never been a wild child. Lincoln took that role. For the most part he'd always been the quiet, serious one. He was the one with the goals, who would be something; Lincoln had made sure of that. His brother had screwed his own life up so badly it was all he could do to make sure Michael did better. Despite all this there he was, standing at the some bar with his friends who had relentlessly insisted he go out with them. To celebrate their graduation they'd said. Although he was pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that they were trying to cheer him up. Once again his brother had been busted for something stupid and was in jail again. Regardless of their reasoning he was there. And the screwdriver he had ordered ten minutes earlier was starting to do it's job.
Normally he wasn't a fan of bars. They were too loud, too smoky and they really weren't his style. If he was going to meet someone he preferred somewhere more low key, where he could actually hear what the other person was saying. But he had to admit, this place wasn't that bad. The music was decent and a group of women that looked about his age had just gathered down the bad a ways. Aside from being nice to look at they distracted him from the other less appealing aspects of the bar.
"What you think Mike?" he snapped out of his thoughts
"Huh? What was the question?" he asked trying to remember what they were talking about. But rather than answer his friends just laughed.
"I think that answers our question." his friend and roommate Alex laughed. "We were talking about which of them looked better." Alex told him nodding his head at the women he had just been looking at. "Drew said the tall blonde in the green shirt. Sam said the other blonde in the red dress and I said the brunet. Which one gets your vote?" Alex asked again.
Michael took a minute to look at each one carefully; noticing not only their clothes and figures but their stance and attitude. That was when he saw her. She didn't stand out, but she was definitely there. She didn't seem like the type that frequented these bars. But just looking at her nearly took his breath away. "The redhead." He finally said.
"What red head?" his friend Drew asked trying to subtly move and look. "Oh, her, I didn't even see her." He said finally noticing the forth girl in the group. And so the rest of the evening went. Michael and his friends talked, joked, flirted and spent the evening enjoying them selves, at least Michael's friends did. Michael participated politely in the conversations but spent most of his time wanting to leave.
As the evening wore on Sara's friends paired off with various guys and hit the dance floor. When the last of her friends was pulled onto the dance floor Sara took her chance and slipped out onto the almost empty terrace. The terrace was quiet, calm and gave her an instant sense of relief. As she stood overlooking the busy city she wondered again why she had agreed to come.
Michael thought he had found a quiet place to hide when he came out on the terrace. The noise inside had become too much. It was quiet and peaceful outside, the hum of the city calmed his nerves better than any drink could. After he'd been out there a few minutes he saw the red head from earlier walk out. She didn't seem to notice him but walked over to the railing and looked out over Chicago.
"Quiet a view." Sara jumped when the voice spoke. When she turned to look she saw a tall guy step over from the far side of the terrace. She hadn't even noticed him when she stepped out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized as he came to stand by her.
"Its fine, I just didn't know anyone else was out here." She replied, noticing that he was one of the guys that had been staring at her friends earlier that evening.
"I'm Michael." He said extending his hand to her.
"Sara." She said shaking his hand. Then the two stood in comfortable silence looking at the view.
"So why are you out here and not in there with everyone else?" Michael asked after several minutes.
"I could ask you the same thing." She laughed and then answered with "It's not really my thing."
"Same here." Michael admitted. "I've never been much of a barfly."
"So what brought you out tonight?" she asked. There was something about this stranger that intrigued her. Maybe it was the way he wasn't shamelessly flirting. Maybe it was the way that he wasn't trying to seduce her. Something about him made her want to get to know him.
"I just graduated, my roommate decided I needed to celebrate." He told her. When he first noticed her earlier he'd thought she was pretty, but now as he stood next to her he realized that pretty was a serious understatement.
"Really? Where from?" she asked wondering if they went to the same school and had somehow never met.
"Loyola. Are you a student too?" he asked, but before she could answer a group of loud and obnoxious people spilled out onto the terrace interrupting them. "You want to get out of here?" he asked "Get a cup of coffee or something?"
"That sounds great." She agreed and took the arm that he had chivalrously held out to her. "Preferably somewhere quieter." She added as they headed to the door.
"I couldn't have said it better." Neither was sure what to expect from the cup of coffee they were going to get, but both felt there was a connection between them. Something they couldn't quite place, but both were curious to figure it out. Deep down both held the hope that this chance meeting would become something more.