A/N : You guys, I know it's been a while and I'm sorry. But life has been throwing things my way (finals amongst them) and I just...well, you know. Please tell me if you like this chapter? Please?

XO

He woke up to the sound of iron screeching through the silence. Blinking several times, the small crack his eyes allowed him to see through showed him the image of a guard standing in front of his cell, leisurely tapping his keys against the wall that seperated his 'quarters' from the next ones. "Scofield, you've got a visitor."

There was something about the way he looked at Michael. A certain glinstering in his eyes that Michael didn't know whether he liked or not. He raised his arms to the wooden planks that held the bed above his together and stretched with a yawn.

The guard scraped his throat. "Listen, buddy, I ain't got all day and let me tell you...you're going to want to see this visitor. So move it." Michael rolled his eyes (inwardly of course), took a final look at the picture safely tucked away between the same planks that he'd put his slender fingers on only seconds ago and walked over to the guard. Honestly, he liked Aidan and was more than thankful for everything he was trying to do, but frankly, he was sick of the sight of him. He just wanted to be...out there.

"Table three is ready for you."

--

"You WHAT?"

He shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Listen, miss Tancredi, frankly, I was sick of being called Martin. I thought that may-be...just may-be...if I'd do something like this for you, you'd be able to remember my name." He clucked his tongue and raked his hand through his hair. "Believe it or not, but I actually like my name."

Sara removed her hand from her wide open mouth long enough to utter two words, before it just flew back again. "but... how?"

"How?" she nodded. "well, first thing I did was go to the judge's office to ask for some of the paperwork. I went through the whole scenario of 'she can't – she shouldn't – no' before they broke down after the multiple visits I paid to them. 'What the hell,' they must have thought, 'let's give the mad man what he wants for a change'. Then I went to the policestation where they're holding him, showed them the signed papers and added your name to the visitation list."

Sara rushed to the door, grabbed her coat off the hanger and opened the door, letting the cool breeze soothe her nerves and somewhat soften the dark circles under her eyes. Well, maybe not soften them, but with this wind, she had something to blame her ragged appearance on, rather than the shortage of sleep and the multitude of crying.

"Aidan..." she called out, and he turned around with a small smile. "thank you."

--

"Hey..." the soft greeting shook him to his very core. He hadn't even lifted his eyes towards his visitor, hadn't even made his way through the room to where the hell table three was, when he heard it. The hey that soothed his very being. His gaze snapped up and his pace quickened at the sound of it.

Before he knew it, he was holding her close to him, letting her warmth envelop him. He pressed a brief kiss to the side of her face, mindful of the guard that he knew was watching their every move. Yes, sure, it was just a policestation that was holding him until he went to trial and until they figured out what to do with him, but nevertheless a guard was a guard, a gun was a gun, and the cafeteria food sucked everywhere.

Slowly distancing himself from her a bit, he took in her tired appearance. Her hair was jumping out at random points, there were obvious cercles underneath her eyes and it was clear to him that she had lost a lot of weight. He sat down as close to her as was allowed and held her hand in his, caressing her fingers with his thumb.

"How?"

"Well," she gave him a soft smile, "apparantly Aidan had some tricks up his sleeve."

Michael laughed. "Oh, you mean Martin?"

Sara let out a little chuckle. "No," she said, "I mean Aidan.Yes," she tapped her left ringfinger on the tabledeck once, "Aidan."

Michael gazed at the finger in question and let out a big smile. "You're wearing it."

She lifted her finger and looked at in awe. "It's just so beautiful, Michael. I just..."

He softly kissed her. "I'm glad you like it. But don't forget that one of these days, it'll have to go."

"Michael..." she protested, "it's really not necessary, you know. I mean, this one is just so beautiful, I could..."

He shook his head. "No."

"Fine..." she sighed. Oh, the sacrifices she had to make with this man.

Michael grinned, happy that he had made his point. "So, how's the fam?"

"The 'fam' is fine, I think." She shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Well, now you're gonna know. I want you to be my P.I. ..."

" Honey, don't call it P.I."

"...detective..."

" better. "

"...and you're going to spend as much time with them as possible. You're going to have lunch with them, write me letters sitting next to them and watch TV with them, commenting on how I am so much more...you can fill in any adjective you like...than those people in one of your silly shows that you're addicted to."

Sara rolled her eyes."How does 'stubborn' sound to you?"

He smiled. " I think you can do better than that, Miss Tancredi..."

"Oh can I?" he nodded. " 'annoying', 'childish'?"

"keep going..."

And just then the bell rang, announcing the end of visitation. Sara grinned. "Well, Mr. Scofield, I'm thinking that the adjectives are going to have to wait until next time." She pressed a loving kiss to his pretty pouting lips and hugged him one last time.

He watched her leave, the ache of not being able to see her for another...who knows?...clearly visible in his eyes. When she spun around with a big smile on her face, he had to physically force himself not to jump up, run over to him and abduct her to his cell.

"Michael?"

"hm?"

"how does 'cute' sound?"

" 'cute' sounds wonderful."

Please tell me what you think? Please?

XO