A/N : I have seen very little of Prison Break (4 eps to be exact) but have seen a lot of music vids about this pair. Oh, they reeled me in right from the start, and I keep thinking about them. So here's a story that I would like to see happen – on or off screen.

Please let me know how you feel about this story. Reviews are the things that keep me writing... I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

Also – I do not own anything related to Prison Break. But I whish for a guy just like Michael – think he exists? Duh!

Love to you all. Laura

Michaels POV

As he sat on the wrinkled paper on the doctors chaise, he couldn't help but follow her every move. He'd become mesmerised with her actions, even the simplest of things from her would mean something to him. Reliving the memories made in that room was the thing that got him through the long FoxRiver days, with the endless hours, the neverending pain and sorrow. It gave his thoughts an escape from the Breakout-plan. But there were times when he didn't like it. Didn't like this. The feeling of having to leave her soon, and the mere thoughts of using her to get what he wanted, tortured him.

I can't feel for her. I shouldn't.

He found it very difficult to convince his subconscious. There were times, when he would...open us his head and heart to her. There were times when he thought she cared, and it produced this little tinkling in his stomach.

She turned to him, reading his shot, gripping his arm for support. He never liked needles, but kept up the façade, to keep the plan moving. Or – to see her. Which was another distinct possiblity. The needle hesitating just an inch from his flesh, he saw her smile a little and shake her head slighty, as if she was convincing herself of something. He looked away when she stung him, but immediately turned his face back to her when it was over.

"Can't be easy..."

She quipped an eyebrow. "What can't?"

"Being the governors daughter." She rolled her eyes at his statement, and it made her look so innocent he had to hide his smile. "I've met him once, but I –"

"Didn't care for him too much?" She provided the words for him. He nodded and she took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know how you feel." He raised his eyebrows.

"You do?"

Saras POV

"Well, he sort of..." She sat down, and looked away briefly, before returning his gaze. "When I was a little girl, he was the perfect daddy, you know?" At his nod, she continued. "But then his political carreer started running, and he came home fewer and for shorter amounts of time. I didn't think much of it, until I heard my parents fighting downstairs. Turns out that he was having an affair with some hoity toity business woman, who would as soon turn up her nose as open her eyes."

Flashback (November 11, 1986 Sara age 9)

She saw her mother storm out of the kitchen and into the hallway, where the wooden staircase stood heavily, with her sitting on the twelfth step. She hugged her teddy close and kissed his ear. 'It's gonna be alright, Bunny, daddy will stop yelling and mommy won't be sad anymore.' Her teddy just looked back at her blankly. Bunny didn't believe a goddamn word she was saying.

"Mommy?"

Her mother turned around and saw the frightened little girl sitting in the dark hallway. She sighed heavily and walked over to her daughter, taking her into the warm arms, heated from the argument. "Oh sweetie,"she whispered. "I didn't know you were here." She pulled Sara closer until the poor girl struggled for breath.

"Mo – mommy?"

Eve distanced herself a bit and looked straight into her baby girls eyes. "No matter what happens," she added a kiss to the side of her face for emphasis, "I want you to know that I love you, okay? Always have..." Sara shivered when her copper strand was tucked behind her ear again, by icecold fingers. How could fingers be so cold, when arms were so safe and warm? "...always will." Eve concluded. To her husband, who had been listening from the bottom of the stairs, she stated, gasping for breath and words. "I hope you –" She paled and fled the room, grabbing her keys in the process, before she was able to utter another word.

And her little girl – she left her with a bitter husband.

"And thát was the last time I saw her alive. After that, my father blamed me for her leaving. For her dying. Our relationship died with my mom." Swalling the big crop of emotion, along with the question of why on earth am I telling him all of this down her throat, Sara – age 29 – faced her patient again. In his eyes she saw neither pity nor disgust, as had been in her fathers, but understanding. Just, plain and simple understanding. Wonderful and loving understanding.

"I'm sorry, Sara." He said, with that low voice of his, that held all emotions, but was rational too.

Sara slapped his wrists playfully, trying desperately to keep up with her bravado. Never let them see you cry, Sara. But despite the fact that Michael was a con, there was something about him that made him stand apart from 'them'. He wasn't one of them to her. He was something different, something more.

"What did I tell you about first-name basis, Scofield?"

He smiled a bit and shrugged. "...Not to?"

She nodded her head, but he kept on going. "But the thing is, Sara," she rolled her eyes and looked up to the ceiling, screaming a silent 'why'. Why did her push past her walls so easily? "I like the name Sara much more than I like Dr. Tancredi. Especially after what you told me about the other owner of that name." Again – understanding, like only Michael could. Did she just think that?

"I understand. But – aside from the fact that it's not about what you like, but what you should call me – I wear the name in honor of another Tancredi."

He frowned. "But you don't have any siblings."

"Again, not the point. ... How did you know I was an only child?"

"Oh." Busted. He looked for a plausible excuse, and came up with the rather cliché "You must have told me."

"No." She shook her head. "I didn't. Believe me, I remember every word that –"

He grinned but threw up his hands in defeat as she stared him down with annoyance. He shrugged. "Then I must have assumed... Well then, Sara Tancredi, tell your anxious crowd in whose honor you wear the name. "

"Bunny." She said it with all the obviousness in the world.

His mouth fell. "Bunny, as in – your bunny Bunny?" With his indexfinger, he searched the air for the logic behing that statement. All he got in return was a smile from her lips while she walked over to the medicin cabinet. She casually threw her hair over her should, while softly stating a "I'll see you tomorrow, Scofield."

He grinned and jumped from the chaise. "Later, Sara."

She smiled at the bottle of Aspirin, hoping he'd never do what she told him to.