A/N: Once again, I'm really sorry about the delay on this chapter. Unfortunately, real life got in the way. Now, this probably won't happen on the show but quite frankly; I don't really care, a girl can dream. I had so much fun writing this chapter and was grinning like an idiot the entire time, so I really hope you enjoy. And if so, please review. Btw, there are still one or two more chapters left in this story before I either end it or go on hiatus. :)
Chapter Twelve
Every minute from this minute now
We can do what we like anywhere
I want so much to open your eyes
Cos I need you to look into mine
Michael and Sara were seated across from each other at the small unsteady table. His hands rested on the cracked tabletop; hers were folded in her lap. Catching sight of his hands on the table, the Doctor in her finally noticed the wounds on his knuckles, which he'd obviously acquired during his assault on Kellerman.
"You really are a masochist, huh?" She joked, smiling lightly as she moved out of her chair and slid into the one next to him. She gingerly took his hands in hers, holding them tenderly while she turned them over to examine the extent of the damage to his knuckles.
His face broke into a smile as some of her loose hair fell against his shoulder; she was too busy examining his wounds to notice. Her closeness also meant that he could feel her warm breath and hear her rhythmic breathing.
"You should see the other guy." He spoke huskily into her ear.
She cast a weary glance over at Paul, before smiling back at Michael, realizing how close she was to him and blushing slightly.
"Seriously, one of these days you're going to get yourself killed." Although her tone was light, he could see the seriousness and concern in her eyes.
"You're worried about me?" He accused her, smiling knowingly.
She just grinned at him, rolling her eyes. He was too busy looking at her to realize she was about to rub antiseptic on his skin, and it stung as it made contact with his fresh injuries. The muscles in his fingers slightly contracted in response to the unexpected pain, causing her to laugh, playfully mocking him before her expression turned serious.
"How does it always come back to this?" She asked seriously, briefly looking up from his wounds to stare deeply into his eyes.
"It just never occurred to me to change physicians." He replied amusedly, returning her gaze.
Trying to ignore his jokes, she just softly shook her head and continued.
"You nearly killed him." She gestured towards Kellerman before looking back at his hands as she attempted to bandage them. As she worked she continued the conversation, hoping to get a serious answer from him. "Why?"
Michael paused for a second, breaking eye contact to look down at the table, clearly deep in thought. Finally, he looked up, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"He nearly killed you." Michael spoke softly, confidently. He paused for a few seconds while he stared into her eyes. He couldn't help but grin before continuing jokingly, "And then I really would've had to find another Doctor."
She continued to stare down at his knuckles, gently dabbing at them with cotton balls. A smile played across her lips; she was clearly amused, but still wasn't fully satisfied with his response.
"So?" She prodded.
He took her hands in his, stopping her from tending to his wounds. His sudden movement caused her to look up, her eyes connecting with his. She once again registered their closeness; their faces mere inches apart. The small glass bottle of antiseptic dropped from her hands and neither of them paid any attention to it as it rolled off the table and landed with a thud on the hard ground.
Here goes nothing, Michael thought. He took a deep breath, and briefly closed his eyes preparing for the next words to come out of his mouth.
"He nearly killed someone that I love," he spoke quietly, his voice completely serious, his eyes never wavered from her own.
Sara was momentarily stunned by his declaration. She was completely speechless; which was probably a good thing because even if she could speak, she still would have been unable to think of a coherent response.
He gently brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and neither one of them broke eye contact. He paused for an instant, then moved his hands to her waist and slowly pulled her over onto his lap; she didn't resist and slid easily into his embrace. They continued to stare deeply into one another's eyes and neither knew exactly how long they were in that position; Sara sitting gently in his lap, her hands around his shoulders, his arms wrapped around her waist. At this small distance she could feel his steady breaths, and practically hear his heartbeat speeding up. Her own was beating rapidly in anticipation.
After what seemed like an eternity, Sara leant her face down, her lips gently brushing over his. She felt his sharp intake of breath as her lips briefly made contact with his. He responded by taking his mouth to her neck, slowing leaving a trail of kisses up to and including her earlobe.
Her hands found their way under the back of his shirt as he gently, wordlessly, lifted her up, holding her in his strong arms. He pulled back from her neck to look once more into her eyes, and they showed no sign of resistance. Upon receiving this silent confirmation from her, he proceeded to carry her into the small bedroom, closing and locking the door as they disappeared inside.
As he laid her down on the bed, it amazed both of them that it didn't feel awkward. Even given the situation they were in; both were practically on the run, fearing for their lives, and there was even a man unconsciousness in the next room. Despite all this, everything felt completely natural. They were finally giving into what they knew they had both longed for since that very first time in the infirmary. It almost felt surreal.
He moved on top of her and his lips once again connected with hers, though this time his tongue found its way into her mouth and his hands ran through her hair. While returning his kiss, she slowly pushed him over so that she was straddling him. He carefully removed her top, always being mindful of the injuries that were now all too visible. His breath caught in his throat; even with all the cuts and bruises, she was beautiful.
She self-consciously glimpsed down at her battered body before returning her eyes to his. Upon seeing the expression of awe in his eyes and the gentle smile he offered her, she realized none of it mattered anymore. Right now, there was nowhere else either of them wanted to be.
She carefully removed his shirt, her fingers tracing delicately over the intricate designs tattooed on his chest. She studied them curiously, momentarily in awe of the elaborate blueprints which she knew were the key to his escape.
Only mere moments later, they were both completely unclothed, and had shifted position so that he was now hovering less than an inch above her. She breathed quickly and shivered involuntarily as she felt his warm breath on her neck, still not quite believing any of this was taking place. Over the next few hours they made love, completely giving themselves to each other. It wasn't rushed or hurried or awkward, and they took all the time they needed because, right now, as far as they were concerned; they had all the time in the world.
A/N: So yeah, probability of this really happening is low. But I figured, hey, this is a fanfic, and I can make it happen:D Nevertheless, I thought even though it was something that probably wouldn't happened, they remained relatively in character. Besides, Sara held out much longer than I would have. :D
