Title: With My Brother and My Sister Standing By
Characters: Lincoln, Michael/Sara
Summary: It's Sara who found the house when they arrived here... (Post-series, alternate canon.)
A/N: Part of the Roses and Cabbages 'verse (please see my profile)
It's Sara who found the house when they arrived here; nothing more than a bungalow that needed a hell of a lot of work, at the very end of a long sinuous dirt road. Lincoln snorts every time he thinks about it; the symbolism is killing him. It overhangs the beach – white sand and dark green-blue water, the small boat they bought "just in case, because one can never have too many options" berthed right in their line of sight.
The sunset lights up the horizon with an orange glow. It used to feel heavy and threatening, that color above his head, all low sky and dark clouds. Here, now, it's vivid and hopeful, clashing with the blue and white of the beach.
Michael steps closer to Sara, snakes his arms around her and splays his hands on her belly; it's growing round again, stretching the worn cotton of her shirt, second baby on the way.
Lincoln sneaks a glance at them. He's not the demonstrative kind, but he has to tuck his hands into his pockets in order not to throw his arm around their shoulders and squeeze.
Sara doesn't seem to care about what he's supposed to be – she rarely cares about appearances anyway – because she grabs his elbow, and pulls and tugs until he has no other choice than complying and doing as she wants.
She's as annoying and stubborn as Michael. They're a perfect match, and Lincoln doesn't want to think what their poor kids will be like.
He leans into the two of them and smirks when they huff because he's big-brotherly pushing them against the balustrade.
END