A/N : Goodevening once again, ladies and gentlemen. I've returned. Hehe. Tonight's theme band is Yellowcard – songs on repeat. Right , here goes.

Please review!

XO

I need you now, we're miles apart

I'll keep you deep inside

You're always in my heart

I need you now, we're miles apart

Michael

Sitting at the wheel and staring off into the distance, Michael's thoughts wandered. No. Not so much wandered as 'kept on obsessing about the same thing he had been thinking about every since he started running'.

Do you have any idea how much I love you?How much I need you?

Sara. He was going home to her. He loved her and needed her...oh, he needed her so much. They passed a highway sign.

Chicago, 27 miles

He grinned and searched the radio for a proper 'soundtrack' for their homecoming dance. Noises and static were all that came out of the old thing, until he passed a certain frequency and felt Lincoln's head snap towards him.

"Hey Mike – we know this song...Turn it up, brother!"

Pumping their hands to fists, they threw them up in the air as far as the car would let them, and started bellowing out the chorus. Not... too off key..

"If I could find you now things would get better

We could leave this town and run forever

I know somewhere, somehow we'll be together

Let your waves crash down on me and take me away..."

The radio couldn't have been playing a better song. Because didn't this just describe the way they felt about their girlfriends, and each other?

Run forever? They'd run enough. It was time to come home to the ones they loved. The ones they lived for.

Sara

There's a piece of you that's here with me

It's everywhere I go, it's everything I see

When I sleep, I dream and it gets me by

I can make believe that you're here tonight

That you're here tonight

She had to stop herself from yelping after their phonecall. He was coming home. Michael was coming home, and she'd finally see him again. She had to admit that she was scared, who wouldn't be. But the part that was excited won.

Because there is nothing like having the real thing. Sara has always been a bookworm, obviously. There was nothing like losing yourself in words. The feeling when something snaps in you, and you know exactly what the writer is talking about. Like you've been there – you felt it. And ever since she was a kid, she'd kept a notebook, now filled with pieces of everything. Words she could not forget.

And there it had been, the real thing. François de La Rochfoucauld once said : "True love is like ghosts, which everyone talks about, and few have seen."

She saw. She felt. She loved.

He's coming home.

Michael

Home. The place where I had felt more alive than ever. The place where she lived.

He could hardly breathe as he rang the doorbell, fearing he'd stand in front of her and – die. Or jump her. One or the other. He was so excited he could barely do it.

Don't be a wuss, Michael. This is Sara. She'll probably be just as excited as you are. If you behave like an idiot – then be sure she will too.

Right. Right –

Michael sighed relieved as he saw an old lady exiting the building, and asked her to hold the door for him. She gazed at him with concerned, grandma-like eyes and raised her hand to his forhead, to do god-knows-what.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked (Michael noticed she didn't put her teeth in). "You look a bit – oh, what's the word" she tried to bite her nail in thinking, but seemed to be coming to the same conclusion he had. She grinned and raised her finger in triumph. "flushed."

He smiled softly. He supposed he did. Well, Michael, it's time to do what you do best : sweettalking the ladies. Go ahead, stud. Woo her. "Yes, ma'am. I'm a bit excited. In a minute, I'm going in and see the woman I love, tell her how I feel..."

Her face lit up. Ah, old ladies are so easy. Just throw a little romance and chivalry at them and they're eating out of your hand...It didn't matter that it was the truth, did it?

"My boy, you'll be marvelous. If I were forty years younger, I'd marry ya myself!" She looked pensive, as if trying to figure out if he wouldn't go for someone her age. Shaking her head a little, the white curls danced around her head.

I bet Sara will be beautiful at old age.

"Go on," she ushered him inside. "Off ya go, darling." She swung her walking stick high in the air and turned around one last time to add, "I have a feeling I'll be seeing a lot of you in the future, lad." And then she was gone. Well, a few steps further – old ladies tend to be a little on the slow side.

Michael mounted the steps instead of taking the elevator and enjoyed the silence and time it provided him with. Thoughts...so many thoughts in his head. Sara.

Finally arriving at the top floor, he anxiously knocked on the door, only to hear a soft "Who is it?" coming from the inside. That voice...Even though he'd heard it yesterday, it was different when it was only metres away, and didn't have the electric filter transferring it. Sara's voice shone when being near her. She shone.

Sara

"Who is it?" Praying, praying – oh, she wasn't a religious person, but at this moment, with this knock – she prayed.

Waiting. Why isn't the person speaking?

"Open it and find out.."

His voice.His voice. Michael's low, smooth voice that sent shivers down her spine.

He's here.

She ran to the door and pulled it open, flinging herself into his arms without skipping a beat. "Michael..." She buried her head in the crook of his neck and breathed. Breathed him in, smiling sillily the whole time.

"Sara, it's me...it's me..." he said, softly stroking her hair and squeezing his eyes shut. She could hear the wonder in his voice, as if he didn't believe it himself. But it was real.

"I love you so much.." she whispered next to his ear. "Never leave again."

He distanced himself so he could look in her eyes. Pushing her hair, that had fallen in her eyes, behind her ear, he kissed her tenderly and then grinned.

"Honey, I'm ho-ome..."

Hey guys - as always, tell me what you think, please!

XO

Ps: gone to a concert tomorrow, so not sure I'll be able to update! But I'll try really really hard. I promise.