A/N: This chapter contains an "M" rated section for sexual content. It's indicated as such, so just skip it if ya want to ;) The plot should thicken soon, but I wanted to take the time to establish family life a bit for the Scofields. As always, I love to hear from you all. Happy reading!

XXXXX

Jacob paced around the yard, thinking. He spent most of his free time alone, although he'd grown accustomed to sitting with Justin, Reggie, and Will for every meal. Reggie was the one who seemed to know the most about T-bag, having been here the longest. Will was the loudest of the group and kind of a trouble maker, but he could handle himself in a fight, and that's all Jacob needed. T-bag had seemed to notice his new allies; glancing…or rather, glaring Jacob's way while he ate.

But yard time was his own, a chance for a bit of fresh air and more room to pace, which was how he did his best thinking.

He still hadn't managed to figure out Emily's phone number; he'd made four calls at this point, taking every opportunity he could to use the phone, but those opportunities didn't happen very often or with any regularity. He kept his list of possible numbers and he'd keep trying, crossing them out one by one until he figured it out, he just hoped that the digits he remembered were actually correct. Otherwise, he was wasting time. The uncertainty irritated him, but he tried to not let it consume him; patience was a virtue, after all.

The next step, beyond contacting Emily, was what occupied his thoughts the most lately. In an ideal world, Jacob would be out of Fox River and have Mike. But how to make that happen?

To have Emily kidnap the child would be relatively easy; Jacob knew the basics of Mike's schedule and his routine with Sara. Michael being back in the picture might jumble things up a little bit, but Emily could tail them for a while to better understand their regular schedule.

Once she took Mike, Emily wouldn't be willing to care for him indefinitely until Jacob was out, he was certain of that. She wasn't the least bit maternal and would probably rather stick hot pins in her eyes than be responsible for the care and well-being of a child.

But someone out there would probably love it. A childless woman, he decided, one who was desperate to be a mother but who couldn't have kids of her own. She should be single, and probably lower-income, meaning that she couldn't afford adoption or fertility treatments. She had to be stuck, overwhelmed with the desire to be a mother, and he could exploit it. All of it. She'd be told that the deal was legit; that Mike was confused and had been tossed around in foster care; any stories he told about his family would fall on deaf ears, dismissed as a confused and traumatized child's fantasies. This woman would care for him until Jacob could, and then he'd simply steal Mike away from her and start a new life with him.

But that also meant Jacob needed to figure a way out of this place.

He sighed, his eyes wandering around the yard and examining the fences, the barbed wire, the guard towers and alarms...

A part of him had a brief flicker of respect for Michael- escaping this place wouldn't be easy.

Then, another idea came, his heart leaping with the thrill of an excellent plan. He could use Mike as a bargaining chip. Contact Michael and Sara and tell them that Mike was safe, that he'd be returned to their loving arms, but only if Michael broke Jacob out of Fox River. It was a lie of course; if…no, when Michael got him out, he'd have safeguards in place that would allow him to disappear, to get to Mike and flee the country. He'd slip right through their fingers.

He was practically buzzing with excitement, a sly grin on his face, when T-bag started sauntering his way. Not now, he thought, annoyed. With a sigh, Jacob slowly started moving towards Justin, calling out a quick, "Hey," to get their attention. Justin looked and saw T-bag, got the attention of the other two, who moved with him towards Jacob and glared at T-bag.

T-bag stopped in his tracks, taking a moment to size up the situation and his competition, eventually deciding it wasn't worth it. He gave Jacob one final glance, a warning, before turning and heading back to the bleachers.

Jacob nodded as his group, a silent thanks, before starting to pace again. This could work, but he knew he'd need to plan for every possibility. To expect the unexpected, and to always be one step ahead.

He couldn't help but smile; he was back in the game, and game theory was his specialty.

XXXXXXX

Veronica sat at work, staring at the mountain of paperwork in front of her. It wasn't unusual, being this far behind, but she still didn't like it. She'd been at it since noon, and the clock was now approaching three; maybe a break was needed- a quick walk outside around the block to clear her head, and she could even stop at the coffee cart outside on her way back. She sat for a moment contemplating her options; she debated toughing it out and staying in, but she could feel her heart's desire for a latte growing. It was for the best anyways, she reasoned, breaks were legitimately helpful, and when she got back she'd been way more productive.

She closed the file she had open, and pushed her desk chair back, grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

Her office building was in a nice area, with flowering trees that lines the streets, and a lively bustle. The fresh air felt so good as she took a deep inhale, hearing the click of her shoes while she walked along the sidewalk. Her mind wandered as she walked, and she couldn't help but think of Sara and Michael, wishing that there was more she could do to make their situation better.

She considered how she might feel in their shoes: what would she want?

Some time alone, was the first thought that popped into her head. If she'd been without Lincoln for seven years and suddenly had him back? Missing each other for that long would've been bad enough without the origami thrown on top of it; she could only imagine the heartache and betrayal they both must feel, the loss of so many years.

She loved Charlotte, but if she were in their shoes, she knew she'd yearn for time alone with Lincoln to reconnect. Had they even had a chance for that yet?

A prick of guilt came up; she knew their sex life was none of her business, what with Michael being like a brother to her and Sara being a dear friend, but curiosity got the better of her sometimes.

Maybe that was something she could help with, though indirectly of course. They could have Mike stay over and have a sleepover; spend the evening entertaining him and Charlotte. What Michael and Sara decided to do with that time was their prerogative, but no matter what they did, it could be nice to just be a couple again for the night, without having to worry about being a parent.

She'd already made her way around the block, and could smell the espresso and hear the milk frother whirring. She got in line behind one other lady and waited to order, deciding that they could offer to take Mike tomorrow night. Tomorrow was Saturday; so that way, they could even keep him around for a big breakfast on Saturday morning- Lincoln's specialty. Mike had only joined them for the blueberry pancake feast a few times in the past, and it could be fun to do it again.

She ordered a latte and while she waited, pulled out her phone to text Sara. As her drink was handed to her, her phone chimed with a reply, accepting her offer. She smiled to herself as she walked back to her office, feeling a burden lift even slightly, glad that she was able to help.

XXXXXX

T-bag walked in from yard time feeling decidedly conflicted. First was the phone call from Lincoln, which further convinced him that Michael and/or Sara and whoever else did in fact want him to kill Jacob. He himself also wanted to kill Jacob, right?

The memory of Whip struggling to breathe on the cold floor beneath him resurfaced, swirling in his mind while he struggled to sort out his tangled feelings and motives.

He got to his cell and heard the door slide shut behind him, laying down on his bed and staring upwards.

Was death too good for Jacob? Would spending the rest of his days here be a worse punishment? His tongue grazed along his lips anxiously as he considered.

Tormenting Jacob for the rest of his life could be enjoyable, he thought with a smirk, but the fact that Jacob had a gang now was a bit troublesome.

He noted that the urgency he'd felt when Jacob had first arrived was gone: that deep need for physical violence had subsided, giving way to a more rational mind, one that could be patient and wait for the right opportunity to present itself.

Time passed as his thoughts went around and around, not coming to any useful end. He wanted Jacob dead, and apparently so did everyone else. He wouldn't be doing it for them, but in a way it felt like he was being manipulated into doing their bidding- their bidding that just so happened to align with his own vendetta. He felt like he was being used while simultaneously making the choice he wanted to make. Everything lined up, which somehow felt insanely wrong.

He scoffed and sat up, wandering over towards the small collection of personal items he had, and grabbed the bible that was provided to them all. He flipped open to a random page, hoping that some sort of wisdom would present itself. His eyes skimmed over the pages for a good ten minutes or so and he casually flipped through a bit more, his gaze coming to rest on a passage he knew all too well.

He read it aloud to himself, slowly and quietly, "And a man who injures his countryman – as he has done, so it shall be done to him."

An eye for an eye.

So that's it huh? He thought to himself. Whip died, so Jacob needed to too. But how? And when?

He reasoned again that there was no rush, that it might even be more satisfying to wait as Jacob got comfortable and complacent, developing a false sense of security. If he thought those three lackeys of his could provide twenty-four/seven security, he was dead wrong. There would always be a time, always a chance, and he'd take it when the time was right.

XXXXXXXXX

"Thanks again for this," Sara hugged Veronica, who had Charlotte on her hip, then greeted Charlotte, "Hey, you," with a kiss to the girl's hair.

"We're happy to, seriously," Veronica glanced down at Mike, "he's a good kid."

Sara's heart swelled, "He is," then louder, "and he'll be on his best behavior for you, yea?"

Mike clearly heard her and nodded, "I will."

She smoothed his hair, honestly believing him, "Love you, bud."

"Love you," he turned his attention to Lincoln, who was getting ready to head out into the backyard. Sara liked that Mike and his uncle were so close. Lincoln was the rough and tough handy-man sort, and Mike seemed to be fascinated by it. That kinda thing wasn't his nature, but he was clearly able to appreciate and study it; learn about someone who was simply wired differently than he was. She was proud of that, Mike's ability to learn and explore the world of others.

Charlotte started to squirm as Mike and Lincoln made their way towards the door. Veronica set her down and she took off, not wanting to miss out on the action.

"Ready to go?" Michael asked Sara.

"Sure," she turned back to Veronica, "we'll be back in the morning to get him."

"Any time works for us," she replied kindly, "we're both off this weekend so," she shrugged, "after a sugary breakfast of blueberry pancakes, he'll be all ready to go home."

Sara grinned and gave an eye-roll, "Can't wait," then mouthed, "thank you" again as she turned towards Michael to leave.

A part of her had butterflies about the evening ahead. Until Veronica had offered, it genuinely hadn't occurred to her that aside from the moment when Sara went to Crete to save him, they hadn't had any time alone, just the two of them. And even in that moment, Lincoln and Whip were just a closed door away.

On one hand, it was ridiculous to feel this way-she had a child with the man for God's sake, but on the other…it all felt somewhat new again. Familiar, sure; kissing him resurrected so many memories, making it feel as though he'd never left. But he had, and a lot had changed.

She felt strangely hesitant about it. It had been seven years since the last time, and it felt like a lifetime ago because in a way, it was. Her mind went to Jacob again and dammit, she didn't want it to. She felt guilty about having been with another man; logically, she knew the guilt was unjustified, she had simply moved on, but that didn't change the way that she felt. She could only assume that Michael had been completely deprived of human contact for the last seven years, but honestly couldn't be sure, and she didn't dare ask. It didn't matter, anyways. Her guilt about Jacob was her own cross to bear, and she hoped that moving forward with Michael would help ease that burden.

Plus, her mind carried on, it wasn't like they'd had much time for love before Michael "died" anyways. First, they were Doctor and patient, then they were on the run and if she was being honest, she'd spent a good chunk of that time being upset with him. Going with him on the day that Mahone came after them had been her last option, not her first choice. In hindsight, she was obviously glad she'd stuck it out with him, but in the moment- expressing love for the man who'd helped her into her predicament wasn't the top priority on her list.

After that? Sharing a warehouse with a lot of other guys wasn't the most romantic or…private setting. Sure, she'd had the boat, but anyone could've just busted in at any time…

Michael reached for her hand as they went out to the car, a soft smile before letting his grip go, so they could each get into their respective sides of the car. She tried to reel her mind in, to focus on the present.

It was a little after eight, and the sun was making its way down the horizon. They'd already eaten dinner as a family before dropping Mike off, so they had little to worry about aside from-

"-You okay?" He asked as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Huh? Yea," she replied quickly, not wanting to raise any red flags.

"Are you sure? You seem…distracted," he put the key into the ignition and turned it.

"Hmm," she hummed in a totally non-committal tone, not agreeing or disagreeing.

He put the car in reverse and started backing out of their driveway, then after switching into drive, put his right hand on top of her left, "Talk to me."

She sighed, flipping her hand enough to be able to grip his fingers. She wasn't sure where to begin, and surprised herself when the words started tumbling out, "It took a long time to accept that you were gone," a sigh, "I still felt like you'd walk through the door, or that I'd wake up and we'd all be a family again. I'd dream about it sometimes…that you were still here…and then I met Jacob and I- I had no idea," she met his eyes, "if I had-"

"-I know you didn't," he assured, then quietly, "he made sure of that."

She scoffed, angered by the deception even though she'd already known about it.

"I guess I just feel…stuck," she admitted.

"Stuck how?"

"Caught between realities?" She said like a question, "Sometimes it feels like everything that happened at Fox River was eons ago, and sometimes it feels like yesterday. That was always the worst, when I'd feel close to you again and then remember that you weren't here. It was easier to put distance between us in my head," she cleared her throat, "and so I remarried, but with him gone now and you back it just feels like everything is disjointed. Like I'm living in the past because you're here, but like everything has shifted and morphed into a completely different, new reality. You're still you and I'm still me, but we're different versions of ourselves than we were seven years ago," she realized how long she'd been rambling, "does that make any sense?"

His gaze lingering on the road, quietly, "More than you know."

"Really?" Then softer, "You're not just saying that to make me feel better?" she wondered.

He smirked her way, "No, I'm not just saying that. Living the life that I did for those seven years was nothing close to a normal, civilian life. Sometimes I dream about it too, or I catch myself feeling threatened at sudden noises. A stranger glances at me the wrong way and it feels like I need to be ready to defend myself, until I remember that normal people in the real world don't just attack other people," then added, "usually."

She scoffed, "Yea, that's the idea anyways."

"So, I do understand…those disjointed feelings, the merging of realities," he assured her, "but I also know that this is what I'd hoped for…for all those years. And I won't let my head get in the way of that."

She squeezed his hand, gazing absentmindedly out the window. After several minutes lost in thought she offered a simple, "I love you."

Softly, "I love you."

A smile, and the rest of the drive in silence.

*****M*****

When they arrived home and he cut the engine, the silence engulfed her. The only logical thing to do was move, to get out of the car and walk inside, and so they did.

She set her purse down on the counter, heart thumping, and turned to face him- her husband, who was staring at her with those eyes that bore a hole straight into her soul.

He moved to her in silence, arms coming to rest on her waist, kissing her softly, slowly. She kissed back, feeling the warmth, and getting lost in it. It all felt new, yet deeply familiar. Closing her eyes, she could almost pretend that they were somewhere else, somewhere in the past before all of the lost years. After a few drawn out kisses, they pulled back, and she pointed to the couch, "Sit," she ordered.

He looked intrigued, and with a smirk, "Yes ma'am."

The couch was long and "L" shaped. He sat in one of the middle cushions and relaxed into it. It was firm enough so that he barely sunk in, but she noted his shoulders move downwards, relaxing, and his head rest against the back of it.

Pulling her shirt off over her head, she moved to straddle him, carefully, gracefully, and her mouth descended on his. His hands found the small of her back, bare flesh, and held her closer against him, kissing deeply as she moved against him, her instincts taking over. His hands moved up, unhooking her bra and she shrugged its aside, tossing it on the floor and reached for his shirt. He wriggled out of it with her assistance, and resumed kissing her, an eagerness coming over them yet somehow restrained, not wanting to rush anything.

When his hands reached up and cupped her breasts, thumbs rubbing circles on her nipples, she felt a jolt between her legs, a soft moan escaping her lips, muffled against his. The shorts she had on were suddenly a huge inconvenience, but she decided to let it be. They'd deal with that later.

Moments or minutes passed, minds a blur, before it became more heated and she had to ask between breaths, "Bed?"

He nodded and she felt him hard beneath her. He stood and picked her up, carrying her across the room and down the hall, up to their room. The gesture was monumental; she didn't consider herself to be traditional, but she realized as they went through the door that they'd missed the opportunity before- her being arrested at their wedding and all. She wasn't normally sentimental about such things, but the fact that he carried her to their bed and set her down gently, it stirred feelings she's suppressed and long forgotten. Things she hadn't dared allow herself to hope for; like having him again.

She lay there on her back, and allowed him to gently tug at her shorts and underwear, pulling them down and off, leaving her feeling exposed. Vulnerable. At the same time-trusting and safe. She'd had a child, she thought with a flicker of panic, since they'd been together last. Was she at all familiar to him?

He shrugged his bottoms off and eased onto the bed and on top of her. He was quiet- his movements gentle and slow. Deliberate. Exploring every inch of her with his hands, taking in every detail. She knew how his mind worked, how much he absorbed and that level of transparency scared her, but she forced herself to remain still and calm.

Fingers trailed her waist, goosebumps appearing when his feather-light touch glided across the curve where waist meets hip. Her eyes were closed now, feeling his lips replace fingers, leaving a hot trail of kisses on her skin, slowly inching up to her neck.

He shuttered and sighed, moving so his face was directly above hers, "You're so beautiful."

A soft smile and sigh, relief, lifting her head to capture his lips in hers and wrapping her arms behind his head, holding him there, tongue probing his mouth, exploring.

"You are," he repeated between kisses, even quieter, "I've missed you so much."

Her throat constricted, "I missed you, too."

She didn't want to be sad now, couldn't let that emotion sink in and become dominant. Instead, she turned her mind off and held onto him tighter, gripping against his back, unable to get close enough to him. He kissed her again, slowly, and came into her.

She groaned, hands sliding lower on his back pulling him deeper. His face buried in the crook of her neck, hips moving rhythmically, perfectly, against her. God, why had they waited so long? She remembered his injury but that reason seemed like a lame excuse right now. Not when this is what they'd been missing out on.

When they both climaxed, clinging to each other, she could feel his heartbeat, his bare flesh against hers. He was alive; with pumping blood and warm skin. He was alive, and he was here with her.

Afterwards he lay next to her, an arm draped across her belly and his head resting on her chest; she'd kiss its stubble from time to time, her fingers lazily drawing circles on his shoulder. She had no sense of the time and no desire to; all she wanted to do was stay wrapped up in their bubble, forever.

She planted another kiss on his head, whispering, "I love you."

His arm around her belly tightened its grip, his head lifting slightly, eyes clear and blue in the moonlight, an honest to God twinkle in them.

He looks happy, she thought with a jolt. Not just "okay". Not just "getting by". There was a brightness about him, a contentment. She realized that she felt the same way, for the first time in a long time.

"I love you," he returned.

She smiled.

"What?" He wondered.

"Nothing I just," her arms held him tighter, "I'm really happy right now."

He snuggled his head into her chest again, a sigh, "Me too."