A place to start ...
Michael, Sara and Linc are still on the run and sharing a motel-room for the night. The brothers have a much needed conversation. Linc has a few words with Sara and finally Sara and Michael have a little heart to heart. Answers are exchanged. Mostly Sara POV.
Spoilers for 2x16 Chicago and goes AU after that...The story assumes their day ends after Michael and Sara go into the Cigar Club. Then they head towards their motel...
Disclaimer: All characters and situations from 'prison break' are properties of Paul Scheuring in association with 20th Century Fox Television. No copyright infringement intended.
PART 3
'Talking about love is like dancing about architecture.' – Playing by Heart.
The door opened and Michael entered the bedroom, with his chest bare naked and his wet towel hanging over his shoulder. I watched him move through the room to their duffel bag where he dropped the shirt he'd worn today. Meanwhile Lincoln had stripped to his boxers and was crawling into their bed on the furthest side away from me.
'Don't know about you guys but I'm turning in for the night.' Michael turned to look at him suspiciously. Suddenly I felt like I couldn't just leave the evening at that. I got up and moved towards Michael, bending down and retrieving the dirty shirt he'd just tossed into his bag. I gave him a shy but steady look and turned around heading back to my bed to change my clothes for the night. I didn't have anything else to wear. It was a good enough excuse to borrow his shirt, right? If I wasn't going to have Michael sleeping next to me tonight, I might as well be comforted by the next best thing and sleeping in his shirt was as good as it gets.
I saw from the corner of my eye that Michael and Lincoln were looking at each other. Linc giving Michael a big smile before turning his back on us and settling in for the night. I felt so grateful to him, not only for talking to me about Michael, but for giving us a few more precious minutes alone. Or as alone as we could get on the run, anyway. I turned my back at them and swiftly took off my shirt and bra and pulled Michael's t-shirt on. It came down over my bottom so I could safely remove my jeans without revealing too much to anyone. It felt strangely familiar wearing his shirt. I felt more than saw Michael's intense stare burn a hole into my back. I took a deep breath surprising myself with feelings of nervousness. Turning around with as much calmness as I could muster, my heart dropped and leaped back up in a matter of milliseconds. There he was, still standing at the exact same position where I'd left him minutes before shyly studying his toes. All eight of them by the looks of it. How he could be so deliberate, bold and presumptious one minute and then completely fragile and heartbreakingly clueless the next was beginning to be beyond me. My saviour and endangerer. Michael... I coughed a little to let him know I was done and he looked at me first sweetly and full of wonderment. I felt self-conscious again but the feeling fled when his gaze turned into admiration, lust and finally love. Gone was the shyness, this was the determined man looking straight into my eyes, letting me see everything. Realizing we'd been staring at each other for some minutes without saying a word, I offered to take a look at his injuries and he softly agreed.
'Sit here' I told him, pointing to my bed. 'I'll see if I can find anything useful in my bag.'
He was sitting there with his chest bare and his intricate tattoos staring at me. I had to focus hard to keep my mind on tending to his injuries when there was so much flesh to explore before me. For the first time, it really occurred to me that he was free... I was able to touch him without somebody standing around, without having to watch the clock to make sure I didn't spend an inappropriate amount of time on him, without fearing that my hands would betray me to him. I could touch him and I didn't need any excuse. What's more, he could touch me...freely. He wanted to touch me. His every breath expelled desire, want, need. I could tell cause he was tapping his fingers on his still jeans clad knees. I didn't know everything about Michael Scofield, but I knew he couldn't keep his fingers still when he was nervous, or trying very hard to control his thoughts and feelings.
Finally I gathered up enough professionalism to pull my own gaze from his lust-inspiring body and sat behind him on the bed. I curled my leg up so it was touching his bottom and let my other leg fall next to him off the bed. Well, so far for professionalism.
'I'm going to look at your burn first,ok?' I started pulling off the bandage that looked like it had been on there for a while. 'When's the last time you changed the bandage and cleaned the wound?' I softly asked, letting my breath carress his neck in small puffs. He reacted involuntary to the feel of my breath on him and I saw and felt the goosebumps appear on his skin. I was pleased with myself being able to evoke that kind of reaction from him. Knowing I'd broken through the cool and all-controlling Michael Scofield exterior. Knowing that he let me... 'Couple of days ago... I think.' He answered my question. I pulled the bandage off completely and looked at the damage. It was ok though, just needed some cleaning and desinfecting. 'It looks good enough, considering.' I reassured him. 'This is going to sting just a little bit though, I'm going to try and clean it up a bit.' I took some lotion and started dabbing the burn-wound. 'Okay' He breathed. I continued cleaning the wound slowly and thoroughly. Didn't want it to infect or leave a bigger scar than necessary. I felt a strange sense of possession; even though my actions were professional and methodological...he didn't feel like a patient anymore...at all and I found my free hand roaming his back luxuriously, revelling in the feel of him. 'Sara' he moaned, softly putting his hand on my bare leg, steadying himself.
'Sorry' I giggled a little and removed the supposedly offending hand from his back and let it rest on his upper arm where I gave him a light squeeze. 'All done, just let it air-dry for a while, I'll put on a new bandage in the morning, ok?'
He started turning towards me on the bed but I stopped him. 'Not just yet, still have to look at your arm Mr. Scofield.' I said teasing, all the while smiling. This felt so nice, so comfortable.
'Whatever you say, Doc.' He was watching my every move as I shifted my position to sit next to him so I could look at his arm. I pulled away the bandages to reveal a fairly ugly looking wound.
'Looks infected' I said, worried. 'We should get something in the morning to clean it out. I don't have anything strong enough to help contain the infection. Does it hurt?'
'Euhm, yeah maybe a bit.' Michael shrugged his shoulders. Stupid question to ask, of course. With all the adrenalin, on the run, getting caught, escaping ...again, minimal hygiene, minimal food and sleep...no wonder the wound got infected. I guess it wasn't high on the list of priorities right now. I started dabbing around the edges and noticed Michael flinching just a little.
'Hurts enough, I'd say' looking at him.
'I'll live' he said nonchalantly. As I was about to make a remark on how he should take better care of his injuries and not shrug them away, I noticed that his attention was elsewhere engaged. Specifically at me, actually. He was still monitoring my every move, absorbing every little thing like it was the very breath he needed. His eyes were everywhere and I felt every muscle in my body repond to him. It didn't help that I was sitting in front of him with only his t-shirt on me. He didn't seem to mind all the exposed flesh though. I could almost see his mind making a map of every shape, every exposed bit of flesh, every sign my body was giving him. I briefly wondered how he did see the world, how he saw me. If he could visualize every part of me and lock it away in his beautiful mind. I locked my eyes with his. This Michael didn't hold back anymore. No more cool exterior I had gotten used to in the infirmary. This Michael let me see all the confusion in his mind, all the complexities in his emotions, all the feelings he wanted to share with me. His look was so intense that it stole my breath away. So slowly, I watched as a smile spread across his face, lighting up his eyes. The hand that had been resting on my leg started making its way up to my cheek. And when it arrived at its destination, caught my head with such delicate movement, I had to close my eyes and swallow very hard to keep the tears from falling. No, this man didn't do anything like normal people do... I took a deep breath and opened my eyes again. He was still there, staring intently at me. 'Sara' he repeated my name again. It was enough.