Twelve months later
Sitting in her car, Sara Tancredi pondered her fate as she looked at the beautiful, sprawling house before her, and proceeded to give herself a pep talk.
Open the door Sara, and step out. She groaned. This wasn't supposed to be so hard!
It had been twelve months since she had sped from him on the day he was released, and almost a year since the big gaping hole in her soul would not be filled. No matter what she did, where she went, she always longed for him. She went to bed with thoughts of him, she dreamt, she woke with him.
Having made the decision to contact him and to explain, it had taken her a week to drum up the nerve to visit Veronica and ask for her assistance. Sara had made the appointment at Veronica's offices so that she might circumvent bumping into either Lincoln or Michael, should she visit their home.
She'd wanted to know how he was, what he was doing, and how to contact him. Veronica however, had told her nothing. All she did was listen as Sara rehashed her life and the decisions she had come to these past months, before pushing Michael's address at her, scribbled hastily on a piece of paper with the stern instruction to 'call him.'
Easier said than done. Numerous times she had called and simply hung up before even getting a dial tone. At one point, she was so fired to speak to him, and then was thoroughly disappointed when she got his machine. It was as if the God's were telling her to visit him in person – and so here she was.
It had taken her two extra weeks, but she had made it. Breathing deeply to calm her racing heart, she stepped from her car, smoothed the fabric on her hips and headed up the drive leading to his sanctuary.
The single story rambling brick home, situated in a quiet leafy suburb, was gorgeous from the outside. It looked solid and welcoming, all dark brick and solid warm honeyed wood. Making her way to the porch she pushed down the instinct to run and rang the bell before she lost her nerve. Several minutes passed and nothing happened.
Please, don't tell me he's not here.. I don't know if I'll have the courage to come back again.
Attempting to ring the bell again, she listened and heard music playing, coming from somewhere around the side of the house.
He had to be home then, right?
Walking around the drive, she heard the music became louder the closer she got. It was coming from a shed round the back, which stood independently from the house but had the same brick feel, although on a smaller scale.
Walking to the threshold, she tentatively peered inside and her breath caught in her throat. As it turned out, it wasn't a shed at all, but more of an office. There were sketches pegged up on boards, standard office equipment, a table and some chairs. She gripped the doorframe in an attempt to steady herself and took a moment to simply drink in the sight of him.
He was dressed casually, jeans and a blue T-Shirt, barefeet, his back to her as leaned his forearms on the worktable, seemingly studying some papers, drawings or blueprints. From her angle, she couldn't be sure which it was. His hair was longer than he used to wear it, just more than an inch in length, she noticed, and when he turned his face ever so slightly to the right, she detected dark stubble shading his cheeks. He was still tall and lean, and his shoulders filled her view.
The music was loud, some soft rock, the male vocalist's husky voice filling the air. But as if he became aware of a presence, he stiffened, slowly raised himself to his full height, paused a second – she could see his shoulders rise and fall - and slowly turned to face her.
This time, it took all her self-control to stay upright as her knees bucked. Sara gripped the doorframe and noticed the shock register on his face, and then something else, but it was masked so quickly she was sure she must have been mistaken. All that hung between them was the words coming from the CD player.
…I'm standing before you
this label on my head
I'm pleading before you
for you to understand
its you
when i look up in the sky i see you
and then i turn and close my eyes its you
and when I'm sitting all alone in my room
everything reminds me of you..
As if an act of fate, it was the final track and the disk had come to an end.
The awkward tension stretched between them and all she could hear was the increased tempo of her rapidly beating heart.
"Hello Michael," she said as she forced herself to walk over the threshold and take another, and then another step towards him, until they stood face to face, an arms length apart.
He looked a little world-weary. The slight stubble he had made him look almost dangerous, but still unbelievably handsome. The darkness of the hair on his head and the hair on his face contrasted startlingly with his pale complexion and blue eyes. They looked like glittering sapphire pools.
How could I have forgotten how vivid they are? She wondered.
"Sara?" Was all he could manage, his tone laced with disbelief. He'd known. The minute he caught the scent of her on the breeze, he'd known. He would never forget her scent. Pure white lilies. It haunted him. But her, standing in front of him, it had to be a dream.
How many times had he dreamt about her?
As if to assure himself of her form, he reached out his hand and touched her cheek. Warm, soft and real. She leaned slightly into his palm and closed her eyes. As if burned, he snatched his hand away and took a step back.
She looked the same, yet different. If forced to use an adjective, he would say she looked healthy. Her hair, falling in copper waves around her shoulders, shone vibrantly. Her cheeks glowed, and while dressed simply in jeans and a white jacket, she looked radiant, beautiful, vibrant and so alive.
"You're here?" Michael turned away, then back to face her. "How did you know where to find me?"
She could see the anger and confusion in his gaze. "I'm sorry to intrude. Veronica gave me your address and I-"
"And you decided to drop in on me without a warning? Where have you been? I tried to find you until everyone convinced me that you would be found when you were ready. And still I looked. I even contacted you father! Not that he was much help. But you had disappeared. Just vanished."
"Michael, I.." she swallowed. "I came to explain. I know it may be a little too late, but I owe you that much and I've come to you. You may not want to hear it, but I need to tell you." Sara's eyes pleaded with him. "If you will give me a few minutes of your time, I'd like to try and make things right."
"Make things right?" Michael winced.
Amends? Not possible, he thought. It never had been.
He looked at her and it annoyed him that he wanted to hear what she had to say. Why can't I dismiss her the way she dismissed me? he thought.
Brushing past her, he muttered, "lets get inside. Its almost dark and the temperature drops out here."
Not waiting to see if she followed, he walked up a brick pathway which lead to what she assumed was the back entrance to the house. When she stepped inside, she found herself in a spacious kitchen.
Michael stopped and asked, "Can I offer you something to drink?"
She shook her head in denial. "No, no thanks," and clutched her purse like a lifeline. She was much too nervous to drink anything. Looking around the kitchen at the maple colored wooden cupboards, honeyed floorboards, and gleaming marble tops she nervously said, "Its beautiful."
Shrugging he continued on till he reached the living room and gestured for her to sit. She sat but instantly regretted it. He didn't sit and so she found herself staring up at him, wishing he would take a seat too, but knowing he wouldn't. She was on his turf and she would play by his rules.
The brief walk through the house confirmed her earlier musings. The house was large, warm, comfortable and rambling.
A safe subject then, she thought.
"This is a beautiful home. Its so roomy," she began. Sara admired the wooden floors, solid furniture and masculine comfort. "When I spoke to Veronica, all she mentioned was that you bought this place." The house was spacious, with very little walls and very little barriers. It was just open.
Shifting on the balls of his feet, Michael put his hands in his pockets; a gesture which seemed so natural to Sara. "Yeah. I needed a place of my own but being in a cage with walls closing me in didn't appeal very much. After the wedding, I knew Veronica and Linc needed their space, and with a teenager and the baby coming-"
Interrupting Michael mid-sentence, "Veronica's pregnant?!" Sara asked with genuine delight.
Michael smiled briefly for the first time and nodded. "She just found out. But you would swear she was ready to give birth the way Lincoln and LJ dote on her."
Sara returned his smile. "They're excited?"
"Yes. Linc wasn't there when LJ happened, so he's extra excited about doing it right this time."
Michael realized around the same moment Sara did that they were both grinning at each other and immediately sobered. He turned and walked over to the fireplace and stared briefly at the ashes from the fire lit the night before.
Like so many times before, stillness settled around them.
Swallowing in an attempt to soothe her dry throat, Sara said, "As you must have realized, I'm no longer working at Fox River." She let that drop into the silent void that had fallen between them.
Michael turned to look at her, his brow knitted. So she knew i'd try to find her.
But before he could say anything she continued. The words came fast and without allowing him any gap to interrupt. "I resigned on the same day you were released. I couldn't go back. I took some time off from my career and went to visit a college friend in Wyoming. The space at the ranch, it gave me time to think.. and to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, with my ruined relationship with my father, with my career, with.." Her voice trailed off, "with you."
Being unable to sit still any longer, she let go of her purse and stood too but walked to the opposite side of the room and turned to face him. Michael was reminded of the day he saw her at Fox River, with the light at her back. She was still as mesmerizing now as she had been then.
She was shaking slightly, so she folded her hands across her midsection. "I had to come to terms with the fact that although I never had love as a child, I am entitled to it as an adult. I never felt worthy of being happy because my father made me feel that because of my addiction, I didn't deserve happiness and that I should spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins."
Her voice had become so soft, Michael had to really listen to catch, "It sounds so messed up but its true. And I believed it."
He felt some of his anger subside at the pain in her voice. In many ways their childhood circumstances were similar. Different names, events, cities, yet the same universal emotions. Hurt, loss, loneliness, pain. He let her continue.
"I couldn't go back to Fox River. I had done all I could there, and things would never be the same again. That chapter was closed and I needed to move on. Besides," she smiled fondly and said, "the infirmary would never be the same again. After I left Wyoming, I came back and was contacted by an old professor of mine who was heading up a drug rehabilitation center here. I met with him and took the job he offered."
Pride entered her voice. "I'm mentoring young addicts, and I love it. I still play a key medical role, but it also involves being more involved in the actual rehab process, and its good for me." She glanced at him, but could gauge nothing from his expression.
"I also went to see my father just after his trial. I needed closure on our relationship. He will never forgive me for testifying against him. According to him, I single handedly ruined his political career because of a silly crush on a common criminal."
She scowled at her father's tactless words but her spirits lifted just a little as she detected a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. She took a small step towards him. "I want you to know that I never meant to walk out on you. But I needed to figure me out, and learn to accept who I was, who I am, accepting the Tancredi legacy, but allowing myself to be free of it. I needed to make peace with having no real family, be ok with being alone, but also accepting that I am allowed to want more and feel like I deserve it."
"Why have you come here?" He needed to be sure.
Her heart sank. Any moment now he was going to tell her it was nice seeing her, but to take a hike. She swallowed her pride. She needed to try.
Taking a calming breath of air, she said, "I know it's been almost a year and I know I hurt you terribly by leaving. But, I was hoping you could understand where I was emotionally." Realizing she was stalling, she continued, "when I left, you said.. You said that.." Sara couldn't look at him; her embarrassment was so acute, she was stammering.
Michael cleared his throat, quite enjoying her discomfort. It soothed his ego and healed his battered pride as nothing else could have.
"I said I was in love with you," he said matter-of-factly.
Sara flinched. This was not going the way she'd planned. In her mind, he should have swept her into his arms already.
"Yes, urm.. you did. And I didn't expect that you still felt that way.. but I was hoping that.. I was thinking.. urm.. maybe if you were willing to.. we could have that coffee you mentioned.. and maybe we could see if there is still something.."
She trailed off and let the quiet stretch. She still couldn't look at him.
"I'm sorry Sara," she heard him begin.
At those words, her mind shut down. She was mortified and humiliation swamped her entire being. She should never have come.
What was I thinking?! After all this time. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
Not waiting for him to continue, she looked blindly for her purse and attempted to brush by him. "I'm so sorry to have taken up your time. I just wanted to clear the air, and wish you the best. I've really got to go."
He moved so fast, she wasn't sure exactly how it happened. One minute she was walking by, the next he had her pinned to the opposite wall. His face mere inches from her own, his body pressed to hers.
"Dr. Tancredi, I haven't finished with you yet."
Looking directly into those unreadable aqua depths, she recalled the day of the prison riots when he had helped her down from the ceiling. The look in his eyes reminded her of that moment. Back then; she had thought that he'd wanted to kiss her. Surely she was mistaken? Sara licked her lips nervously.
"I think you've made your feelings clear-"
"Have I?" Oh God, she thought, his eyes were so intense she felt her knees weaken. "According to the ex-Governor of this state, you have a crush on me. Assuming of course I was the – how did he put it? – oh yes, the con he was referring to."
Sara allowed a nervous laugh to pass from her lips as she felt her face flush.
"And for the record, you did wound me Doctor. Very much. I fell for you, hard and fast, and watching you leave was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I fought it. I kept looking for you until it dawned on me that you were right. You needed time, and if I loved you, I needed to give you your time and have faith that you would realize what a prime catch I was - am," his voice lowered seductively, "and come knocking at my door."
Sara started to relax – just a little. "Prime catch you say? Well, in my book, a con isn't classified very highly."
His lips was a hairbreadth away from hers as he whispered, "this con is crazy about you. But I'm sorry." Her eyes misted. "If you think I'm settling for a cup of coffee, you underestimate me Sara."
Looking into his eyes, she whispered back, "So what exactly are you after Mr. Scofield?"
He smiled, a genuine, happy, seductive and seriously sexy smile. "Much more. Much, much more.."
With that, he kissed her and they went up in flames. It was not like any of the other kisses they had previously exchanged. Here wasn't just passion and need, but raw emotion. They both poured their longing and regret into each other.
God, but I missed her, he thought.
Sara's arms pushed restlessly and eagerly around his shoulders as his hands fisted into her hair, angling her head to afford him better access. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't care.
When they came up for air, just for a second, she whispered against his lips, "I love you Michael Scofield. I love you."
"Thank God," he whispered, his breathing labored, those blue eyes on fire. "I was going to kidnap you and beg you to be my slave if you didn't." And promptly plundered her mouth again.
Sara smiled briefly before kissing him back.
God, but I missed him, she thought.
Sara laughed as Michael kissed her hand, playing loosely with her fingers. After their heated reunion, they decided to cool things down a little. Michael had taken her on a tour of his home. Some tour it had turned out to be. Sara remembered very little of the house itself, since there had been a lot of kissing involved. Later, Michael spread some huge pillows in front of the fireplace, lit the flame in the hearth and they sat down in front of it, just getting reacquainted.
"Seriously though, what have you been doing, besides buying this house?"
Looking at their linked fingers, he answered, "a lot actually. I've got my community service to finish, and until then, my movements are a little restricted. But Lincoln and I have started our own engineering company. I do the technical layouts, and he's on the building and construction side of things. I honestly don't know why we hadn't thought of it before. I guess we were both just living by each other. Things are just getting off the ground and it looks promising. We've got Veronica in on the legal work. It pays having connections," he said smiling.
Light dawned in her eyes. "So that's what you were working on in the shed out back? I thought they looked like drawings or something."
He laughed. "Drawings or something? Doctor, did you notice that before or after you checked out me out?"
"In your dreams Scofield." But she leaned in to kiss him. "I missed you," she said after a moment and hugged him fiercely. Moving back, she ran her hand over his head and then his rough cheek. "I kind of like this rugged look," she said as she rubbed his facial hair. "Very sexy Scofield."
He turned a little red at her praise but teased back. "It was my pining for you look. Besides, I don't think I would have been able to hold out much longer than this past year. I missed you too."
His lips caught her again and Sara marveled at the intensity of what she felt for him. A year apart hadn't faded any of the feelings. If anything, it had intensified them.
Leaning back, she looked into his eyes and solemnly said, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
He shook his head. "Don't," and placed a finger over her lips.
"Where do we go from here?"
He pushed her hair from her face. "Lets take it one day at a time. I'm not going anywhere Sara. And I'm not letting you go anywhere either."
"I wasn't planning to. But you're in trouble though," she said seriously.
"How so?"
"You're stuck with me. For a very long time," she replied earnestly.
He laughed. "I've waited forever for that kind of trouble."
"Smart ass. Shut up and kiss me."
Michael moved in. "My pleasure Doctor," he said before claiming her lips.
