A/N: Sorry it's been a while! Hope you like this chapter :)

XXXXX

Sara woke up at the break of dawn, just as the softest gray light started making its way through the window. She went to reach for her phone to see what time it was, then remembered she didn't have a phone. Or a schedule to keep. It was strange.

Michael was quietly sleeping next to her, so she figured it had to be pretty early still. His alarm hadn't gone off for work yet…unless he hadn't set one? Maybe he took the day off? He hadn't mentioned it, but he did say that they could meet up with Lincoln and Veronica today. Maybe he'd called in and they could all spend the day together. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

She realized as she lingered in bed, that it had been quite a long time since she'd slept with anyone. Actual sleeping. She was laying on her side and facing away from him, almost touching him, but not quite. Still, his presence was palpable. She closed her eyes again and felt the warmth next to her, the slight downward slope of the mattress towards him. It was comforting.

She was so used to living alone that this was a foreign kind of comfort. Her evenings were normally spent in solitude- something she certainly didn't mind, but she supposed it depended on what the alternative was. If she was going to choose to spend time with another person over being alone, then that person had to make her feel just as comfortable as she felt with herself. They were competing with her peace and quiet. It wasn't an easy feat, but she was starting to think that Michael might be one of those rare exceptions- a person she felt so at ease with that she actually preferred his company to being alone.

A shifting next to her stole her attention; part of her wanted to roll over to face him- to watch as he stretched and blinked his eyes open, but she stilled herself, allowing him space to wake up and acknowledge her presence next to him. It might be a bit unnerving to wake up and have someone who, in all honesty, you barely knew, staring at you.

It wasn't until he peeled back the covers and started to swing his feet off the bed that she allowed herself to turn over, and offered a simple, "Morning."

A soft smile as he turned back, "Good morning. You sleep okay?"

She smirked, "I can honestly say, that was the best sleep I've had all week."

"Ha, not much competition, but I am glad you found the bed more comfortable than the floor of a truck."

She chuckled, "It really is," then more serious, "thank you."

He mumbled something that sounded like a dismissal, like it wasn't a big deal.

"Uh," she started as she sat up more fully, "you work today?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Confused, "I thought you liked your job?"

"I do," he clarified, "I just…I'd rather be here with you. I feel bad just leaving-"

"-it's fine," she assured, "don't worry about me. I should probably contact the police again anyways. Or Lincoln's friends. I want to know where they're at with the investigation, start getting my stuff back…like getting a new key for my apartment."

"In a hurry to get out of here?" he teased as he made his way to the closet, rummaging around for work clothes.

"Not at all," she replied easily, "but I can't avoid it forever. As much as I'd love to procrastinate, I'm missing a few very important things," she sighed, "I feel like a phone should be my first order of business."

"Isn't an I.D. more important?" he countered as he took a shirt off its hanger.

"See I thought that too," she ran a hand through her hair, "but how often do you actually use your driver's license?"

He contemplated this in silence.

"A phone on the other hand…I feel weird without one. More vulnerable somehow," then she scoffed, "not that it helped me the other day though. Being tasered makes a phone kind of useless." She saw his wide-eyed expression, and offered a, "Sorry," at her bluntness.

"No, uh," he shook his head, "a phone is a good start, and a key. But you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to…as long as you like."

She looked around, remembering the beautiful, comfortable living room and kitchen…the beautiful man sleeping beside her, "Don't tempt me."

He smirked and retreated towards the bathroom. With the door shut behind him and the shower turned on, she peeled back the covers the rest of the way and stood up, taking a moment to stretch. She was still a bit sore here and there, and her shoulder was stiff, but it wasn't anything that a few days of healing wouldn't fix. It occurred to her that if Michael was leaving and she had some business to attend to, she really did need a different change of clothes. The shirt she had on now was fine for lounging, but she didn't exactly want to head to the police station without pants on.

Hmm.

She went over to the closet again, shuffling though. Towards the back, she spotted a large, flannel shirt. It was longer than the one she had on, looking like it would be big even on Michael. A warm shirt, something he could layer or just wear at home. It was a dark blue and green, with thin stripes of gray mixed in. She held it up and realized it went to her knees. Well, it was a shirt dress now. She could borrow a belt of his too and call it a day. It would be good enough to get her through until she could get another key. She had to assume that the office at her apartment building could at least let her in. She'd probably have to pay a fee for "losing" her key, but whatever. That was a slight inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

Speaking of inconveniences- she didn't have shoes. Her first instinct was to just pop in somewhere and buy flip-flops until she could get home, but you have to have shoes to get into a store. How was she supposed to buy shoes if she had to have shoes to get shoes? She sighed. It's like places that require job applicants to have years of experience and no one is willing to hire someone without it. How's a person supposed to get experience if no one will hire and teach them? You can't win.

With that annoying train of thought chugging along, she found a belt and threw on the plaid shirt, wrapping the belt around her waist and securing it.

She made her way into the kitchen and found the coffee maker, and after rummaging around a bit, the coffee grounds. She started a pot and grabbed two mugs- a regular one for her and a travel mug for him. It was by the sink, clean, so she figured that was the one he used the most. She was pouring both when he emerged from the hallway; she glanced back and saw that he was dressed in a blue collared shirt with dark gray pants and matching jacket, strolling towards her.

She returned her attention to the coffee and finished pouring their mugs. His presence was felt behind her, though she couldn't be sure exactly how close he was- she just had that feeling, the sensation on her back that someone was in her personal space. She felt a gentle hand on her left shoulder, his right one coming around to grab the mug, "Thank you."

The warm words in her ear sent a shiver down her spine, and she turned slightly towards him. She willed herself to stay calm, to not be frazzled by his proximity and gentle thanks, "It's the least I could do," she managed.

Somehow, the blue of the shirt set off his eyes even more, which were boring into her soul when she looked up at him. He was somehow closer than she'd expected, and her heart was in her throat, a heady feeling threatening to drop her to the floor.

He stood there for a moment, watching her. By now the whole, "keeping her cool," thing had slipped away so fast, she didn't stand a chance of grasping it. The tension was palpable, waiting for him to do something, or not. She really couldn't read him, didn't know what was going on behind his eyes. Whatever it was, he needed to hurry up though- the silence was unbearable.

Slowly, he set the mug back on the counter behind her, his hands, warm from it, framed her face. A long-forgotten feeling took root in her lower belly.

"If you need anything today…" he searched her eyes, seeing that she understood that he'd be there in a heartbeat. She nodded, unable to formulate a verbal response. It wasn't until he started to back away, peeling himself slowly away from her, that she found her voice, "Wait," then added, "please."

He moved back, closer again. He looked like he expected her to say something, or ask something. But that wasn't why she'd called him back.

She draped her arms over his shoulders, watching his reaction. Tentatively, his hands came to rest on her hips, like he still wasn't sure it was what she wanted. He'd been polite, keeping his distance, allowing her space, but she didn't want that right now. Whether he knew it or not, and she was truly uncertain if he did, he was being a tease. He can't just do that- cup her face, gaze into her eyes and promise to be there for her and then just…walk away.

He was trying to be respectful- normally something she appreciated, but today, it meant it was up to her to move things along. She ran her fingers over the short hair on the back of his head and cradled it, pulling him in until his lips met hers.

It was slow at first; an undertone of caution, of taking their time, but when they both realized the feelings were mutual, it quickly became more heated. A sense of urgency swallowed them both, biting lips and stifled moans. He was pressed against her completely, with her back against the counter, arching slightly to keep her chin tilted up, lips flush against his. His one hand spread wide across her back, keeping her close, and the other was on her face, thumb brushing against her cheek as the kisses started to slow, lips lingering against each other.

When they broke apart, just an inch, their arms remained around each other. In fact, she held tighter, lowering her face and nestling her cheek into the crook of his collarbone, feeling the rumbling through his chest as he admitted, slightly breathless, "Now I really don't want to leave."

She chuckled softly, "Well, I can be here when you get back. If that's okay?"

Genuinely, "I'd like that."

Plans be damned, she'd be there when he was done with work. That still gave her all day to do what she needed to do, and the promise of getting more of him when she came back. She nodded against him, then lifted her head and pecked his lips, "Well in that case, I'll be here."

XXXXXX

"We got a hit," Mahone told Paul as he strolled over to his desk.

"Bellick?"

Shaking his head, "No, the other guy. A civilian at a rest stop thinks he saw him. The truck matches the description Veronica gave and the civilian had seen the police sketch. They think it's him."

"Local units on their way?"

"Yea, but it's not far from here anyways."

"Oh?"

"They're gonna try to track him down and then bring him to us. They know we're working the case."

"Alright. Guess all we can do now is wait."

XXXXXX

Veronica woke up and got ready for work. She still had shit to deal with, but the best thing she figured she could do for herself was go back to normal. And a normal day for her meant long hours at the office and plenty of work to distract her.

Lincoln had taken her to an electronics store for a new phone, so that was at least taken care of. She thanked her past self for hiding a spare key to her apartment and was glad to have access to everything else she owned. Her first night back at home was uneventful, filled with T.V. and a glass of wine, and she'd never been so happy about the mundane-ness of it all.

Getting ready for work now, the only difference about today was her choice of footwear- her bandaged foot couldn't exactly fit into the heels she normally wore. It was healing well- the cut was scabbed over, but still pretty red around the edges. It would take time, and that was what bothered her most. She just wanted everything back to normal as quickly as possible.

Although, there was one out of the ordinary thing she didn't want to disappear, and that thing was Lincoln. It felt strange- a melancholy loneliness that settled in when he'd dropped her off at home and left. He'd helped her so much. They'd been through a lot, and to have him suddenly not there, a solid yet often silent frame behind her, ready to offer support, it left her feeling…well, unsupported. Independence wasn't foreign to her, but she suddenly felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her, like a wobbly fawn learning to walk.

She considered reaching out, at least to thank him, but decided against it for now, and plowed ahead on her quest for a normal day. By lunch time she realized that a normal day was exactly what she was getting, and the annoying feeling that something better than normal was out there…well, it wouldn't leave her alone. Maybe she aught to send him that text after all.

XXXXX

Michael got to work and practically trudged his way into the building. God he didn't want to be there. Normally he was happy to go to work, and if not happy, then at least content. But today? It took everything in him to not call in sick.

He never called in, not unless he was truly, deathly ill. A cold? Headache? He'd be there. It took a fever or worse to get him to stay home. Or a kiss. The damn thing kept replaying itself in his mind on a loop, causing a horrible, erotic distraction as he settled in behind his desk.

He logged in, but the screen before him barely registered in his brain. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on the feeling of her warmth beneath his hands, searing through the fabric of her shirt. His shirt. Although, after seeing her wearing it as a dress, he'd happily give it to her.

His senses were all consumed by the ghost of her, of that moment; the smell of fresh coffee, mingling with the warmth of her against him, the silken feel of her hair between his fingers…

He realized with an air of curiosity that it was his shirt and his coffee…normal, daily things that felt ten times more alluring when they were wrapped up in a Sara-shaped package. She made ordinary things so much more vivid. More significant.

He looked at the clock and realized that only five minutes had gone by, sighed, and resigned himself to a very long day at the office. It occurred to him that Sara had asked to see Linc and Veronica again soon. He considered inviting them all out for dinner and drinks tonight, but he also considered staying in and having Sara all to himself, whatever that would entail. His nature was normally to be self-less, but this one particular decision had him leaning towards the selfish end, and it kept creeping back into his mind as he started working. In the end he figured that either way, he got to spend time with her tonight, and that more than enough.