Authors Notes: I decided not to make it a chapter fic, so this is just a sequel. Thank you to everyone that said they wanted me to continue. This is for you. One line shamelessly stolen from The Shawshank Redemption.
Thanks to my wonderful beta, morph.
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"Panama. Mexican coffee on the beach." He closed his eyes. "No cops, no people, just hospitality and white beaches."
This area of Panama had so many colors. It was a center point for tourists so everything was clean, neat and beautiful. One little coffee store on the foreshore almost glowed with vibrant colors. Red umbrellas that sat nonchalantly over tables, mixed with a white glow of sand and the vivid blue of the ocean.
Michael took Sara's hand in his, and they strode toward it, mutual in their decision.
The small cafe was bustling with activity, leaving only one table vacantadouble facing the beach. The two took their seats and vacantly scanned the menus.
"What have you been doing lately?" Michael questioned, abandoning the menu while he talked. Sara's eyes lifted from her copy to look at him. "I mean, if you've not been working at Fox River, then what have you been doing?"
She sighed reflectively and turned back to her menu. "I was at rehab for a while."
Instantly, Michael wished he'd put his foot in his mouth before he could be so stupid. Of course she had. "I'm sorry. I had heard about that."
Sara's eyes flickered to meet his and she shook her head. "Never blame yourself for what I did. There were so many things happening, it's not your fault." She sighed. "It's actually partially my fathers fault. Who would have thought my dear old Dad would have been pressured into killing someone."
Neither spoke for about a minute. It wasn't an awkward silence, just a pensive one. Michael gazed over at the water. There was a mutual understanding between the two that comforted him. They'd both been scarred by this conspiracy, their families had been hurt and pulled apart.
"How's Lincoln?" Sara spoke up, cutting through the quiet.
Michael glanced down at his hands. "He's good. I heard from him a while ago. He and LJ are out of the country under false names. Veronica crosses the border every now and again to visit them." Seeing Sara's slightly confused look he continued. "Veronica's trying to clean this whole mess up."
Sara opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a waiter beside her. "Are you ready to order?"
Michael was scanning the menu hoping to find something he'd like when Sara spoke up.
"Actually, I feel like ice cream." She pointed behind him and he turned to look at a vendor beside the beach.
Turning to the bemused waiter Michael nodded his thanks, and the two stepped off of the wooden decking and onto the sandy beach.
Two minutes later, Michael gripped Sara's hand with one of his own, holding his ice cream in the other.
"How have you been?" She asked softly, taking a lick of the strawberry mass atop her cone.
He gave her an amused look. "Harried. I'd been running around the country trying to help Vee stop this thing before either of us are found. The good news is that now I can take a break. She's got a lead and we're going to pull on it until we get somewhere." He took a deep breath and stopped a drip from sliding down the cone.
Sara laughed shortly. "I can't believe I'm walking along a beach in Panama. This is possibly the weirdest thing that's happened to me in the past few months.
He grinned and turned to look at her, locking eyes. "Oh really?" He slid his hand around her hip and leant in to kiss her. Strawberry ice cream mixed with Michael's chocolate in his mouth, an interesting mix of flavors.
"And that just made it weirder," she laughed, pulling away playfully. Michael sunk down to the sand, pulling her with him.
"They say the sea has no memory" he gestured to the ocean. "There's no-one watching, we're safe. Here, we can be whoever we want to be."
He sighed, feeling all his worry slip away.
"Who are we, Michael?" Sara asked softly, staring out to sea. He turned to look at her.
"Who do you want to be?"
The question just hung there, unanswered in the silence. They sat in solitude and listened to the ocean crashing at the beach wave after wave, constantly. For now, they were two tourists, sitting on the beach of Panama, each looking for answers. For peace. For freedom.
"I want to be this," Sara whispered quickly, and kissed him.
For love.
