A/N: 1/ Dearest spunkyar, you are simple made of AWESOME!
2/ Also, oOmaybelleOo, your banner is the most terrific thing, and this chapter is TOTALLY FOR YOU!!!! *squishes you tight*
3/ And thank you for all of you who are still with me on this story and who took the time to review. Reviews make my world complete. :)
Chapter 8 – Dinner (Part 1)
The knock on the door was firm and loud, startling Sara and almost causing her to drop the hot lasagna bowl. Seeing Lincoln already moving towards to door to answer it, she managed to shoot him an appreciative smile before lowering the steaming tray of food onto the kitchen counter carefully. She turned just in time to see Lincoln snatch the door of their apartment open and a familiar sight greeted her eyes – her father's strong, perfectly suited frame stood in the door, two dark-suited men wearing sunglasses and looking distinctly menacing at his heels.
She had just the time to picture Lincoln's smug grin forming on his lips - despite the fact his back was still facing her - then he moved sideways, gesturing for the Governor of Illinois to enter the small apartment and loudly shutting the door behind him, right into the faces of the two nameless henchmen.
Pulling off the pot holders and putting them on the counter next to the steaming dish, she made her way through the small living area, where was LJ playing with the remote switching through TV channels, to greet her father.
Almost stopping her in her tracks and taken by surprise, Sara watched her father miraculously extract an exquisite bouquet of flowers from behind his back, a rather sheepish look on his face as he held the bunch of lilies to her without another word. With a light flush coloring her own face, a quiet murmur of 'thank you' left her lips as she took the gift rather clumsily. For a moment, both, father as well as daughter, didn't know what to do, how to act, then Sara broke the awkward moment by taking the first step, giving her fathers upper arm a light squeeze and putting a small kiss on his cheek.
"Thanks dad, really. They are beautiful."
The gesture seemed more than to surprise Frank. He gave a small smile in return, which was something Sara didn't see all that often on her father's face.
Turning towards Lincoln, she made the official introductions quickly and unceremoniously, trying to get over with it as soon as possible. Delighted to see both man shake hands, albeit a little reluctantly, she then introduced a rather sheepishly looking LJ to her father, who also shook hands with the governor before retreating back to his place on the sofa. Sensing the curious confusion in her father's eyes, Sara hastened to answer his unspoken question.
"Michael will be home shortly, he's running a little bit late. He's having a job interview," she added, her eyes meeting her father for the shortest of moments. They both knew the governor must have already been informed on Michael's current work status.
It's been a month since Michael lost his job, and ever since, he's been desperate to find a new one as quickly as possible, attending interview after interview in almost every structural company in the city, yet to no success. If he wasn't instantly recognized and therefore quickly dismissed already when reading through his resumé, he was sooner or later identified during the personal interview, always resulting in at least a dozen of polite – and some not that polite - rejections.
Knowing how much it was pressing on him, Sara desperately hoped that maybe tonight would be different, that maybe tonight Michael would come home beaming with success, rather than the aura of being beaten down by another rejection, another failure, as he used to call it to Sara's great dislike. And especially today would be the perfect occasion for Michael to come home with satisfying news, right into the skeptic face of Frank Tancredi.
Sara's father had called her at work two days ago and literally invited himself into their home for an 'informal family dinner' – a phrase which, Sara was sure, didn't exist in Frank Tancredi's vocabulary whatsoever. There was no such thing as an informal dinner in their family – ever - not to mention the very scarce occasion when the Tancredi dinners could have been called a family gathering at all.
In spite of that, or rather just because of, Sara chose to take her father on his words literally as well. She invited him to their apartment right on the spot, on a rather short notice of two days for the busy schedule of the Governor of Illinois. It was also kind of a test to see if the meeting with her was worth for her father as much as to rearrange and reschedule his appointments. To his credit – and to Sara's huge surprise - he agreed right away.
Sara chose on cooking the food herself rather than order take-out, and called in all the family she had to back her up, to include Lincoln and LJ. Besides, the two of them counted as regular dinner visitors to their home, meaning their presence would be nothing out of the ordinary. Left with no choice, Frank agreed to such conditions, despite the slight hint of dislike and doubt in his voice at the news of the pending dinner company.
But Sara learned a long time ago to appreciate even the smallest victories, and she knew that the mere fact her father agreed to come in the first place, plus that he actually showed up - on time – in itself spoke volumes of how much he really wished to meet up with her. And again, with a hint of uneasiness, she couldn't help the joyous feeling when her heart fluttered with hope.
Sara put the flowers into a huge glass vase, then invited her father into the living room to sit shortly while they waited for Michael, offering him a non-alcoholic beverage he politely declined. She could see, even out of the corner of her eye, how her father measured and judged the small apartment, his eyes skimming over second-hand furniture and the rather old TV. Then his gaze followed his daughter into the kitchen, his narrowed gaze searching and assessing the small space as well. For some reason, this made Sara incredibly self-conscious and even a little bit ashamed.
However, hating to be judged, or rather, hating the fact her father dared to judge the way she and Michael have been living, she let the uncomfortable feeling slip her mind. This was her life, her apartment, her home. And despite the older state of the apartment along with its furniture and equipment, the place was clean and tidy and cozy, and it was the first place she ever lived in where Sara actually felt truly at home, governmental mansion with its huge ceiling and spacious, luxurious furniture, included.
Deciding to bite her tongue in order not to begin their first real encounter in more than a year's time badly, she rather forced a smile onto her lips, adding the last details to the table setting, her eye catching the small kitchen clock signaling it was getting late. Returning to the living room, she joined the quiet group and brought Lincoln and LJ out of their obvious misery by starting the conversation with a polite, albeit a little fake smile on her lips, her stomach churning with nerves. It's been too long since she was forced to face her father on her own and like this, in private.
"I know the place seems rather small to you dad, but it suffices for the both of us for now."
Dammit! She didn't plan to start the conversation like this, already in heavy defense, but her father still had that effect on her, like she had to justify her each and every move or decision she ever made to him.
"Well, I'm sure you've lived in better places before, but those were the times when I was still helping you out financially." The blow was well aimed. Sara squirmed in her place uncomfortably, her cheeks turning bright pink. She didn't need to be reminded of all those times when she forgot to pay the rent or her bills, too stoned or intoxicated to remember something so 'mundane'. Eighteen months in rehab with no work and therefore no salary left her dependant on her father's financial aid, and it was still something deeply humiliating for Sara to even think back to those times.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lincoln and LJ glare at her father, and it made her feel a tiny bit better.
"I like this place. It's far more tidier than our place, right dad?" said LJ cheerily, winking at Sara, who threw back a small grateful smile. Gosh, she loved that kid.
"Yeah, the other night, I thought I heard a rat skittering somewhere behind the couch, gotta get more poison to lie around," added Lincoln with a smirk.
Sara let out a throaty laugh, knowing Lincoln was exaggerating big time. Their place was truly a guy's household, yet it was still rather ok, even for her own strict standards. Her smile wavered however, when she spotted the somewhat disgusted look on Frank's face.
"Lincoln is only joking, dad," she explained with a frown, sensing that her father wasn't all that convinced.
The sound of a key rattling in the lock of the front door caught their attention. Sara was the first to stand up, muttering her apologies while crossing the room in order to greet Michael in the relative privacy of the darkened hall.
The first sight of him told her everything she needed to know. Shoulders sacked, his tie loosened, his face was a mixture of disappointment and tiredness. He just managed to utter a quiet 'Hey' upon spotting her before he was enveloped in a tight embrace, a pair of soft warm lips finding his ear, kissing it lightly.
"Never mind, I still think you are a genius," came a rush of hot whispers in his ear, then she was kissing him on the lips, gently, slowly, carefully. Her arms went from his broad back to his scull, nails grazing his short hair soothingly. Breaking the kiss at last, Michael withdrew an inch, letting his eyes wander to hers. He gave a small smile.
"You really need to stop that Sara. When I get a welcome like this every time I get a rejection at a job interview, I will start to do it on purpose."
She flashed him a soft smile in return before watching his face grow somber again. "The assisting manager put my name to my face ten minutes into the interview. It looked really great until then," he said quietly, feeling the need to explain.
Sara moved her hands from the back of his head to rest upon his cheeks, sighing. Bringing their foreheads together, she closed her eyes, inhaling his scent.
"It's not going to be like this forever. Sooner or later, they will have to stop seeing you as a part of the Fox River eight and start looking at you as the brilliant man you really are. We just have to give it time. They will forget about your past, eventually."
"Will they?" he asked, his voice a little choked, his tone doubtful and more than a little lost.
"Definitely," affirmed Sara, giving his lips a soft quick peck. "Now c'mon, dinner is ready. I cooked lasagna, your favorite." He smiled sweetly, giving a small nod in response. Slowly stepping out of Sara's arms, he made his way to the bathroom to freshen up. He shoot her a curious glance once his gaze fell upon the perfectly tailored expensive coat hanging near the door next to Lincolns leather jacket and LJ's hoodie. Understanding his look instantly, she only gave a small smile, rolling her eyes to let him know how the evening was going so far.
"Yes, he's come some time ago, yes, he's been a pain in the ass ever since, but yes, he is trying and we haven't killed each other. Yet."
She managed to tell him all that in one single look and Michael had to smile despite himself. Non-verbal communication could be so very useful, especially when having a bunch of rather noisy relatives right in the next room.
God, he loved this woman so damn much.
TBC
