A/N : First of all, I would like to send a BIG BIG thank you to Ana, because I pitched this idea to her and she seemed to like it. Now, I'm going to pitch it to you, and I hope you'll like it as well:

The thing is, people, that it's situated at the beginning of season two, it picks up in the episode 'Otis', but there are some twists : Sara didn't OD, but she did take morphine that night. Now, this is the big part : Alex and Sara already met, and she's helping him trying to quit his addiction to Varatril. A nosy neighbour, however, misinforms Veronica and tells her Alex and Sara are dating (WHICH THEY AREN'T, because I'm ALL MiSa!) and Michael gets the feeling that Alex is using Sara to get to him. Alex will do this, but only because he sees no other way. This off course results in a torn Alex, because he really likes Sara as a friend.

Sara is torn as well, because even though she's angry beyond belief at Michael, she's battling her feelings for him. So she doesn't know what to do. Then, there's her addiction and the fact that she feels as if she's betraying Alex (her friend) by having feelings for Michael, because he's the very person he's trying to take down. Thus, torn Sara.

Meanwhile, Michael is doing everything he can to reach Sara, and keep her safe.

There's a LOT more to this story, but I can't say everything, because it would spoil A LOT. I just wanted to say that I've written a few future chapters and that I really like those, but I'm not too sure about this first chapter.

So please, tell me what you think, and bear with me, because it's going to be great if you do (I hope).

XO, as always
and I apologize for the enormous A/N.

He had always wondered what Sara's appartment looked like. His brain went over all the possible designs, all the little trinkets that she might stash away in wooden cabinets, or scatter on the coffee table. Sometimes, he even pictured her there. Late at night, when he was laying on his cot, an image would flash before him, squeezing itself between all the thoughts on escaping, and all the things that had gone wrong.

He'd see her walk around in a frenzy, tidying up the place, then reviewing the scene and noticing that nothing, in fact, had changed. "You should see my appartment" she had once playfully quipped, and it had hit him in the chest. He desperately wanted to.

It would, no doubt, be nothing like the place where he was currently staying at for only a few hours, with bouquets of flowers placed in every corner of the room. From drooling admirers, probably. God knows he'd never given her any, despite the fact that they were – after all – legally husband and wife.

Still, he owed Nika a lot. She had provided him shelter to tend to Lincoln's bleeding, aching wound and kept them secure from the cops, even when there was no speculating involved in this scenario. Nika now knew all the things he had been up to in prison, yet stayed on as his accomplice. He didn't know why she did it. Maybe it a was a reason laying somewhere in between a sense of obligation and an unrequited love, maybe it was neither.

All that he knew was that in this very moment, all that was important was that Lincoln would be safe – that his leg would heal and that they could continue running, hopefully grabbing LJ in the process. Running, again. Away from the cops, away from the agents who wanted nothing more than to take them down.

If there was one thing about today that would stand out for weeks to come, it would be agent Mahone's gaze locking with his, and the terrible sense that he knew all about their plan, sending shivers down his spine. The man had almost smiled at Michael. It made him sick.

He knew that it was time to send out the warnings, take every measure necessary to make sure the people he cared about didn't get hurt. Didn't get sucked into this mess, and walk away broken.

More than anything, he needed to talk to Sara. He needed to apologize, he needed to explain. To tell her that she meant more to him than she thought right now. He could still see the pained look on her face, the clear hurt when he had told her that she had been a part of the plan. He had been honest with her that day, and all it had brought her was…

He wouldn't be surprised if she hung up on him when he tried to reach her. Knowing the possible danger that she might be in, he would probably even advise her not to take any calls from unknown numbers. So he tried Veronica, and asked her to go look for Sara. To make things (feel) right again.

-

He had always wondered what Sara's appartment looked like. Her father had always reassured him that she was a good, dutiful daughter, but somehow he hadn't sounded quite that convinced. So maybe, he thought, the appartment would consist of disorderly chaos, of clothes strewn over the floor and dirty dishes by the sink. Girly magazines on the coffee table.

He wasn't surprised when he encountered none of the above. Sara Tancredi's appartment was clean and cozy, without the magazines or dirty coffee cups. "I'm sorry," she apologized to him, quickly pulling her hair in a bun. "I'm almost ready, Alex."

He waved her apology away. "That's okay," he said, "gives me time to go investigate."

Sara poked her head out the door and raised her eyebrow quizically. "You do know that this not a crime scene?"

"Oh," he questioned, "so Michael Scofield hasn't been here?" It was meant to come out a light-hearted joke, but the minute the words exited his mouth Sara felt herself tense. She was determined not to let it show, either way.

"No," she said with a feigned smile, flicking her hair over the collar of her jacket. Hoping that pulling it tight to her body would make the feeling disappear. God, she hated the taste of bitterness that had appeared in her mouth. "Michael Scofield has never been here."

-

The wind cut through her jacket all the same. It was insane, seeing as it was early May – and the weather should have been milder, this time of year. She turned to Alex. "I guess we should have taken the car."

He shook his head. "No, this is good. Helps me clear my mind, prepare myself for what's coming."

Flashback

"You need help, Alex." She put her hand on his lower arm and squeezed it gently. "Let me help you."

He raised his gaze to stare at a blank spot on the wall, trying to ignore the buzzing sound of shiny, happy people enjoying their time at the opera. God, he hated these official gatherings – they confronted him with the kind of man he didn't want to be: a soulless, corporate man whose sole intent was making acquaintances that might someday be useful to him, if he played his cards right. Tonight, it was all about the vice-president and the promises she would be making to Sara's father at the end of the night. It was all a game to them, really.

"Help is not what I'm looking for, Sara."

She had seen the caged look in his eyes, the haunted expression on his face. Alexander Mahone had been sucked empty by his addiction – and she knew the feeling all too well. So she had taken him aside during the interlude, and shared her observations with him. It was in her nature to want to help, and when she saw a hollow man, there was no way that she was going to let him drown.

"I'm not…pressuring you to do anything, I'm not. It's just that this is going to break you, someday. I've been there, despite my father's efforts to try and cover it up, and I want you to know that it's the worst place you'll ever be."

"No offense, Sara; but I've been in a hell of a lot dark places."

She nodded. "Okay. So let me get you of this one."

It seemed ridiculous to him, walking up the church steps to a gathering of desperate creatures trying to claw away from the mess they were in. He'd never thought he'd ever feel this pathetic.

-

"If you're looking for Tancredi, she's not there."

Veronica turned her head towards the voice and was faced with an elderly woman, her head bent around her slightly opened door. Great. That was just what she needed : a nosy neighbour.

"Okay," she gave up. "Do you know when she'll be back?"

The woman's eyes gleamed with secrets. She was probably under the deluded impression that she was they only one who knew what was going on in the world, and Veronica felt herself rolling her eyes inwardly. Although, she had to say that she felt pretty good as well. After all, Nosy Grandma had no idea who had sent her, and why.

To be honest, Veronica was a bit confused about that as well. It was somewhat of a mystery to her why Michael had asked her to visit Sara, and what on earth she was supposed to say to the prison doctor that had saved Lincoln's life. In a way, Sara had been the most important person on that job.

Of course, she could thank her for that, but where exactly would that lead them? She would only be confronting Sara with the mistake she had made that had probably cost her her job. After that, all idea of trust would be abandoned.

"She's out with him, again." Veronica's eyebrows shot up. "Seems like you're not that good a friend if you don't know about that, I'd say." The woman's expression turned to victory, and it made Veronica want to smack her with her own cane. "He's been picking her up twice a week for about three weeks. Nice guy, looks decent enough. Better looking than on TV, for sure. Such a lovely couple, they make."

"So he's a show host?" She didn't know Sara at all, but for some reason couldn't even imagine her going out with the guy from Wheel of Fortune. Or the likes of him, anyway.

The lady shook her head. "Not a show host." She said it as if it was the most insulting thing to be suggesting, then continued, "that FBI agent. Mahone."

-

He waited for the phone to go over, nervously tapping his finger on the dashboard when she didn't pick up on the first ring. "She not answering?"

Michael let out a shaky breath. "Nope. Maybe she's still inside."

"Inside where, exactly?" Lincoln frowned, and his younger brother wondered if maybe he should tell him what was up, but decided against it in the end. There was a big chance Lincoln wouldn't understand what he was trying to do, wouldn't get why she was the one he needed to reach out to.

Sucre's words from the other day still followed him everywhere he went. "You fell for her, huh?" He missed his friend. It wasn't that Lincoln was bad company, in fact – this is what he had wanted all along : for him and his brother to be free again, and to spend time together – but he really did miss Sucre. Because he was easy to talk to…because he would understand.

"I just asked her to go visit a friend of mine." He was glad Veronica picked up when she did, so Linc didn't have the opportunity to pry any further. "Vee?"

"Hi, Michael. I'm sorry it took me a while to answer."

He shook his head. "No problem. Did you do what I asked you to?" He desperately hoped she had. He hoped that she would have been able to reach Sara, to talk to her and make her see that he did what he had to do, to save his brother's life. Maybe then she would understand that he had never wanted to hurt her. Not ever.

"I went to her appartement, but she wasn't there." Veronica bit her lip. She didn't know what Michael's intentions were when it came to Sara Tancredi, but she knew that he wouldn't like the information she was going to give him next. No, he wouldn't like it one bit.

"..but I did talk to the lady across the hall. She said – she said that Sara's been going out a couple of times a week with this guy.." Michael felt a stabbing pain. He knew that he had no claim on her whatsoever, but the simple knowledge that she was seeing someone else just tore him apart.

"Do you know who he is?"

"You're not going to like it, Michael. Maybe you should just.."she paused. "Maybe you should just let it go, and leave her alone."

His fingers touched his brow, kneading the skin there together to keep busy. Keep his mind from wandering to all the possibilities. Sara was seeing someone. Every time the realisation turned to the center stage of his mind, he felt his body twitch. He felt his heart constrict.

"I can't do that, Veronica. Please just tell me."

"Michael.. he's an FBI agent. His name is Alex Mahone."

So, pleaaaase tell me what you thought? Please? I have a few chapter ready, but if you don't like it, I swear that I'll stop! -- virtual cookies promised, as always

XO, as always