Title: Feminine Touch
Fandom: Prison Break
Characters: Michael, Lincoln
Prompt: 085: She

Word Count: 764
Rating: G
Summary: Lincoln wants a puppy. Michael thinks Lincoln's an idiot.

Disclaimer: Paul Scheuring and a whole lot of other people who aren't me own Prison Break.

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"I think we should move again tomorrow."

"Right, keep moving, got it, but weren't you the one who talked about settling down on a beach somewhere, drinking beer and scuba diving?"

"We have to get to there first."

"This one seems fine to – oh my god!"

"What!"

Lincoln dashed across the street and Michael followed in a panic, narrowly missing being hit by a car. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or furious when he caught up and found Lincoln crouched over a box full of tiny, squirming, yelping puppies.

"What the hell are you – "

"Oh man, we've gotta take one with us."

Michael looked at Lincoln as if he'd lost his mind. Lincoln picked out a smiling black one, the smallest in the box, and held it up for Michael to see. It looked like a Labrador, almost entirely black with two white feet and a long tongue that lapped at Lincoln's hand. Lincoln grinned at it, looking like a thrilled child, then glanced up at Michael.

"No," Michael told him firmly.

"C'mon!"

"Oh, well, when you put it that way."

"Michael, tell me this isn't just about the cutest face you've ever seen," Lincoln said, holding the puppy up in front of his brother's eyes. Michael blinked at it and then looked at Lincoln sternly.

"You're serious."

"'Course I'm serious. C'mon Michael, we can't leave her here."

"Of course we can. You just put her back in the box with the others and - we leave. Someone else'll pick her up, I'm sure she'll find a good home somewhere."

"We could give her a good home," Lincoln said in a glum tone, turning his attention back to the puppy that was chewing on his finger.

"We don't have room in the budget for a puppy," Michael said, feeling like a strict parent and wondering why he had to give lectures to his older brother.

"We have a budget?" Lincoln looked up curiously.

Michael rolled his eyes. "Of course we have a budget. How do you think we've been you know, eating. And sleeping in motels instead of gutters. You think all that money's just springing up out of nowhere? Growing on trees?"

"Don't be an idiot. I'm not stupid, but we can make some room for this little girl, don't you think?"

"It's not a little girl," Michael said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and narrowing his eyes. "It's a dog. And not a very cute one either," Michael lied.

"Well now you're just being mean," Lincoln replied, turning the tiny puppy on its back to play with its paws.

"Lincoln we can't," Michael whined.

"You were the one who wanted one."

Michael took a minute to figure out what Lincoln was talking about. "Yeah, when I was nine."

"LJ would love it," Lincoln reasoned, and suddenly they were squabbling parents.

"A puppy is expensive, it takes work, we can't drag one all over South America with us."

"Jesus, who'd ever have thought that of the two of use you'd turn out to be the cynical one."

"I'm not cynical," Michael looked at him, offended.

"Yeah you are," Lincoln chuckled, bouncing the puppy in his arms.

"I'm being realistic," Michael told him, jabbing his finger at Lincoln to punctuate the sentence. "Realism isn't the same as cynicism."

"And survival isn't the same as living," Lincoln shot back. "You did all this work, made all these sacrifices to save my life, but it's not gonna mean shit if we don't actually live. You're allowed to indulge every once in a while, you know, even if it's not all according to plan."

Michael chewed on his lip as he considered this, looking from Lincoln to the puppy and back again, and felt a nagging inkling in his stomach that Lincoln might be right.

"C'mon, the Burrows/Scofield family needs a little feminine touch, don't you think?" Lincoln pushed gently, seeming to pick up on Michael's crumbling defense and raising the puppy up just slightly. She yawned and dropped her head to rest on Lincoln's arm, and Michael felt himself lose the argument completely in that moment.

"God, fine," Michael said in a droning voice. Lincoln grinned, looking again like a little kid, and handed the puppy to Michael happily. Michael sighed and looked down at the sleepy dog in his arms, feeling like the world's biggest sucker.

"What do you want to name her?" Michael asked as they walked back to their motel, yelping puppy in his arms.

"We could name her Sara," Lincoln suggested with a chuckle.

"That's not funny."

-end-