A/N : Sheesj, wow. It's been a long time, and I'm sorry. Now, I would like to thank you all for sticking with me...I hope you like this chapter. Please let me know?
XO
They pulled up next to yet another dingy motel with blue electric lights and flickering signs. The songs the radio had been playing were slow and soft, soothing the tension that hung between them. A short while before, Sara had removed her hand from Michael's with a sigh.
Why couldn't he read her like he used to?
"So," she gave a small smile. "You want me to make the reservations?" He nodded. It was too dangerous for him to go out and get them a room, with his picture foating over CNN every five seconds. In this hole of something, something, USA, all motel-receptionists did was stare aimlessly at a TV-screen hanging in front of them, while chucking down a beer and burping.
He looked sideways and gave her a quick glance before turning back towards the sign, trying to make out the name of the motel by the few working signs. Moo..l.. motel. Moo – Ah, he grinned. "The Moonlight Motel". Figures. He squared his shoulders when Sara threw the door closed, and trailed a hand over his face. He couldn't keep this up. This little dance that they'd been doing ever since she'd barked those words at him. Honestly, he was just too weak for it.
But hey – tough luck, because he needed her for more than his own sake. She could end this all and she would end it all, with his help. His heart just needed to keep silent and toughen up.
Meanwhile, Sara was standing just outside the reception, doubting. Should she go for the room with seperate beds or go for a double? She turned to look back at Michael and saw him with his head in his hand. Her heart broke just a little more. She never meant to hurt him and she knew that even if she'd scream the words she felt at him, he wouldn't pay any mind. Sara sunk down to the floor and pressed her fingertips to her face, while she tried to keep from crying. All she wanted was for him to love her again, instead of trying to hide his feelings.
Is that alright with you?
She pulled herself up by the edges of the little bench that was near her and winced when the roughly cut wood left its mark on her hand. Her tongue flicked around the small wound once, trying to patch up a little blood, but it was no use. Rolling her eyes, she finally found her way through the door, still not having decided on the room. If she took a double bed, Michael would probably insist on sleeping on the floor and letting her have the bed, but on the other hand, single beds would imply that she didn't even want to share a bed with him. She sighed. Either way, she was screwed.
Michael lifted his head and stared at the crappy door to the reception. Sara had been gone an awfully long time and chances were that the clerk, dim as he may be, recognized her. Michael's hand expertly took a hold of the gun that rested in the cabinet and cocked it once, before stuffing it in his pants and counting to ten.
He couldn't wait to get out of this car, by the way, with that schmuck on the radio singing some song about 'don't give up, because...You. Are. Loooooved." Jesus, who listens to this kind of music?
Nine...Ten.
Swinging the door wide open, he jumped out and slammed it right back. Turning around, he sighed when he saw Sara walking towards him. His fingers let go of the gun and rested in his front pockets. "What took you so long?"
She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Michael."
He shook his head, dismissing her apology. He'd heard enough 'I'm sorry, Michael's to last him a lifetime. "Which room?"
"39"
He gave a quick smile. "Well, at least it's not 40."
Her brows furrowed. "Why? What would be wrong with 40?"
Michael shuffled his feet nervously. "I'll give you a hint : open up cell 40!" He barked.
Sara cast her eyes downward. "Right. Bellick's an ass, isn't he?" She laughed. "Wait – that's an understatement."
His eyes lit up, if only briefly. Then he cleared them and strode over to room 39, patiently waiting for her to catch up him. Sara bit her lip. She hated this. But damn it, she wouldn't back down this time. The one thing about Sara Tancredi that had always been real, was that if she wanted something with all her heart, she'd go for it. No matter what.
Straightening her pants, she walked over to Michael and opened up the door.
The bed was the first thing he saw. "I'll uh-" he stumbled. "I'll take the floor."
She closed her eyes. She knew this would happen, but would not let it. "Don't be ridiculous, Michael," she answered, her eyes staring at the bathroomwall (she'd immediately left him standing there, to give him space or...whatever). "We'll share."
Closing the door, she faintly heard him yelling something that resembled 'Do you really think that's a good idea?'. She smiled. Michael, it's the best idea I've had all year.
--
Michael stared up at the ceiling, while Sara lay on her side next to him, studying his face. "Maybe," he softly said, "maybe I should take the floor."
Her hand travelled towards his, that lay flat on his chest next to his heart and she intertwined their fingers, praying that he would not pull away. "Please stay?"
He looked at the hands, then looked into her eyes and tilted his head. "Why?"
"Because," she took a deep breath. "because I want to fall asleep next to you." Because I love you...
Michael felt his mouth go dry. Sometimes, he couldn't figure her out. But maybe she wasn't meant to be understood. Maybe he should just stop worrying and take every damn chance he could to be close to her. He briefly closed his eyes and knew that the feeling of her hand in his was too much to ignore. This was all to beautiful to refuse.
He watched the sight of their hands together and thought about what a pretty picture this would all make. Except for...
"Sara...You're bleeding!" His voice bordered panick when he saw the small ammount of pain she was in and it made her smile slightly.
"Michael – don't worry, it's okay. I just grazed it."
"You grazed it when?" The chrystal orbs looked at her in concern.
She shrugged. "Ten minutes ago?"
"And it's still bleeding?"
Sara didn't know what got into her. Well, actually, she did, but maybe she shouldn't have done it. Leaning over, she pressed a small kiss to his cheek, then closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. "Don't worry, Michael. I'm fine. Now, sweet dreams.."
Michael gave a loud sigh before pressing a small kiss to her forhead when he was absolutely sure she was asleep. "Sweet dreams, Sara."
What did you think? Was it okay?
XO
