Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or Wentworth Miller, sad but true.
Spoilers until "Sona", after that just my sick imagination.
Pairing: Michael/Sara.
Rating: PG-16
Summary: …And Sara thought that it was her time to say "Thank you".
Note: This chapter is longer than others, so please, dont hate me.
Dedicated to my lovely Maria, thank you for making it possible.
Title: Thank you
Chapter title: The first night.
By Lylou
Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.
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-"... Dont make me lie to you …Please."
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Sara heard the elevator doors closing behind them in that elegant and well illuminated corridor and walked slowly to her room door.
Michael followed her closely, so much in fact that she had touched Michael's hand almost accidentally a moment earlier and he had held it, with all that charming shyness that he always seemed to radiate whenever he would touch her.
He had gone to the hell in order to save her, but he didn't dare hold her hand.
Sara didn't turn around to look at him; she just smiled softly and squeezed his hand a bit, in a clear and endearing signal of approval and maybe something more… Maybe release of the feeling that Michael was still right there, walking slowly behind her.
That he hadn't just vanished painfully and suddenly, like everyone else in her life.
After those months of Michael not being there, his skin or the heat radiating off of his body just a few centimeters behind her in that corridor, made Sara secretly wish that the door of room 834 was a bit more far to their reach.
She knew it was childish, but nonetheless.
Sara let out a breath of hot guilt laden air and continued her walk trough the well illuminated corridor. But then suddenly out of nowhere, Sara felt the warm tears well up in her eyes, and she closed them stubbornly for a few moments, hoping desperately that Michael hadn't noticed.
Because she knew that she wouldn't be able to explain it to him right now.
But that simple gesture, Michael Scofield holding her hand half in need and half ashamed, had been more than enough to convince her that what she had done was right.
It had been more than enough to convince her that the price hadn't been too high, if it enabled her to feel his long fingers tangled in hers or his hand squeezing hers softly.
And Sara knew then that she would have done it all over again.
Everything.
From the day she left that door open for him, to the night that she left that hotel room at midnight, scared but determined, almost six weeks ago.
Everything.
She stopped in front of the door to swipe the plastic card in the card reader next to the room door.
Michael didn't loosen his hold on her hand; on the contrary, he came up close to her. So close in fact that Sara could feel the heat radiating off of his body and she felt Michael's warm breath on her earlobe and in the back of her neck.
Sara searched urgently for the plastic key card in her purse with her free hand, and then she felt Michael's hand squeezing hers more desperately than just a few moments ago.
And Sara thought then that maybe she wasn't the only one scared of waking up in that corridor.
She felt his intoxicating warmth behind her, and his scent managed some how to seep through the white fabric of her long dress… and Sara felt his wet and soft lips plainly on her earlobe, when he whispered into her ear.
Sara closed her eyes a bit when she heard that low and unmistakable voice that she had missed so much in the last two months:
-"…I was so worried about you Sara…"
Michael spoke softly but with a hint of sorrow, as if those words were something that had kept him wide-awake during every one of those sixty-two nights he had spent apart from her.
Sara couldn't help but close her eyes a bit, when she felt his warm breath and when she heard his soft-spoken words in her ear, inducing the effect on her that only Michael Scofield could.
There was a familiarity in the way he spoke to her. He always spoke to her that way.
God… She had missed him so much.
And now, listening to how her name just rolled of his tongue with such ease, his fingers playing slowly with hers, his body just a few centimeters from hers, and his breath on the back her neck, his lips moving softly across her skin… and his words, timid yet warm, full of love and fixation…
Fixation on her.
That had been too much for her to handle.
It was strange, because they didn't even known each other just six months ago, but now Sara knew that they'd both walk through fire in order to save the other.
She had been worried and terrified for him during all the time he had spent in that hole, and Michael had been worried for her during all the time that she had been kept from him….Sara realized sadly then that she had almost forgotten how it was to have someone worry about you, how it was to know that someone couldn't sleep because they were concerned about your safety.
Sara wanted to cry, she even felt the hot tears in her eyes, and she wanted to be comforted by him. She wanted to close her eyes and let him save her…. But she couldn't, because now it was her time to do that for him.
But to feel his anxious hand, his breath on her neck and his warm and needy words, suddenly made the price small and almost insignificant to her.
Almost.
The heavy door made a mechanic noise and finally opened.
Sara pushed it open slowly and both walked into the room, the lights turned on automatically, and the ventilators in the ceiling started to turn silently, eradicating the hot and moist air trapped in the room.
Sara felt how Michael loosened his hold on her hand slowly and closed the door behind them.
Tiredly she dumped her purse on the big and expensive sofa, feeling Michael's hot and intense gaze fixed on her, looking at her every move with that familiar mix of curiosity and warmth that he always had when he was looking at her.
He was simply Michael Scofield.
Sara was tired, it had been a really long and hot day and she was too tired to think, too tired of the heat, of the damn wait… of everything… and he was there again, just a few meters away from her, looking at her in silence. She knew it because Sara could feel his greenish look sliding over her…
"Why the hell did you get him out of prison, if you cant even bring yourself to look at him."
She turned around in order to look at him standing in that expensive and comfortable room, and when she spoke, her voice and her words sounded emotional and guilty, but she had to know it:
-"You were in that place… And you were worried about me?"
Sara almost cried when the words left her lips and she couldn't help but think of how much they had surely lost forever.
And obviously Michael heard something in her voice he couldn't identify, because he covered the small amount of steps between them in silence, until he was just a few centimeters from her.
Sara heard the ventilator's soft noise above them, and the street noises of Panama City slipping through the open terrace doors…. Slowly Michael brushed his hand across her face to the back of her neck, gently. He always touched her as if she would break at any moment, and Sara felt his gaze fixed on her and his long fingers playing softly with the short hair behind her ear, feeling a small and pleasant shiver in the nape of her neck at his touch.
Michael closed his eyes for a moment before whispering, and Sara recognized that mixture of shyness and need in his words:
-"Yes… I was worried because I didn't know if you were safe or…"
Michael put one of his hands on the small of her back and pulled her closer, until he could feel her accelerated breath against his skin. Sara closed her eyes a bit, the last couple of hours had been too intense for her and feeling Michael's hand gently sifting through her hair wasn't helping…
Michael gave her a warm half smile for the first time since they entered that room and softly touched his forehead against hers.
He closed his eyes and Sara felt his hand playing yet again with her hair, as he whispered to her in that familiar and soft voice of his:
-"… Or if you had gotten tired of waiting for me.
Maybe you had forgotten about me."
Sara felt like all the air had suddenly and without warning been sucked from her body.
She separated a bit from Michael to look at him, trying to figure out why he had said that. How much did he know?
Her exhausted mind screamed without mercy and it went straight to her heart: "He knows Sara… He knows everything."
But even with all the fatigue accumulated in the last couple of hours, and with the moist and hot air around them, Sara knew that it was impossible.
She knew that it was impossible for him to know, but at the same time, she felt an infinite sorrow and as she spoke her voice sounded fragile and emotional. Secretly Sara hated herself for it, but she needed to say it out loud.
She needed Michael to know:
-"Don't say that… Don't even think it."
Then Sara stepped closer to him, not stopping her movements until she felt his breath upon her hair. She kissed him, feverishly and demanding, letting her tongue enter his mouth, feeling the heat of his body pressed against hers.
Sara felt all the blood rising in her cheeks, burning as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him as tight as she could.
Sara felt Michael responding to her desperate and rushed kiss. She felt his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.
She whispered against his lips, her words sounding broken by his deep and hot kisses:
-"Don't say that again… Don't you dare say that again."
Her desperate words passed his lips and Sara realized then that she had missed his kisses as much as she had missed him.
Michael had just kissed her a few times, but every time he had, it had been desperate and heated; as if he thought every time was going to be the last.
The few kisses they had shared had always been rushed and passionate, and this was no exception… But Sara loves rushed and passionate.
She moved her hands down to the hem of his dirty t-shirt and pulled on it. Michael smiled against her lips, as he took it off in a one fast move and quickly kissed Sara again. She heard the distant noise the dirty fabric made as it made contact with the floor.
And surely that was her last coherent thought.
Sara slowly brushed her hands across his back, almost feeling the dark ink that had doomed them both.
She needed to show him how wrong he was, how she would never forget about him.
Because Sara would never forget the tattooed man with the shy gaze and warm voice that had changed her life forever.
Sara closed her eyes as she kissed him as if she would never have the chance to do it again. She felt her eyes well up with tears just imagining how he would feel if he ever found out what the real price of his freedom had been… But Sara fought the urge to shed the hot tears, as she slowly and deliberately led Michael to the king size bed.
Michael pulled back from her mouth a bit and kissed her cheek and her earlobe before whispering breathlessly against her ear in that warm and low tone that only Michael Scofield could manage:
-"…Sure that this is what you want Sara?"
She brushed her cheek against the four day stubble on his jaw and closed her eyes a bit before answering in an almost inaudible whisper:
-"… More than sure."
Michael smiled against her ear and made his way back to her mouth with small kisses covering her neck and her face.
Sara felt Michael's long and trembling fingers searching for the buttons on her dress and couldn't help but smile a bit. It had never crossed her mind that Michael Scofield, the man who had escaped from a high security prison, would get nervous undressing her.
Her dress fell down her body, pooling at her feet on the expensive beige marble floor, and almost at the same time, Sara felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees.
She smiled softly when she felt the satin sheets pressed against her naked back and Michael's hot breath upon her.
Michael kissed her deeply and listened intently as a small and hot moan emerged from her lips. That mixed with her warm tongue in his mouth made Michael's heart beat accelerate instantly. Just twelve hours ago, he never would have thought that he would be lying in a comfortable hotel bed, with Sara Tancredi naked underneath his body.
Michael never thought that something like that would be possible for them, but now he was feeling her soft skin against his lips and his tongue, and that just made everything else worth the while for him.
He felt his own sweat and hot saliva on Sara's pale skin. That mixed with that strawberry scent of hers could drive any man mad.
His worn-out trousers had been discarded somewhere between her dress and the bed, but now the only thing Michael could concentrate on were the two small and perfectly circular birthmarks that Sara had near her belly button.
Slowly Michael moved his tongue over them and the saliva trace shone for a few seconds upon her skin, like a permanent and invisible mark by him on Sara's body.
He heard Sara giggling softly in the half illuminated room and he loved every note of her suffocated laughter: "You made a naked Sara Tancredi laugh breathlessly underneath you. Maybe you can make it after all…"
Michael felt her fingertips caressing his skin and the dark ink underneath it, and crazy and fervently he thought: "Now that she had touched them, those damn lines are going to be less dark and less permanent…"
It was a stupid and crazy thought, but Michael wished with all his might that it was true. That maybe just for that night, it could be possible.
Michael brushed his hands and his mouth across every inch of her skin, thoroughly, trying to pay attention to every small detail of her body, and of her agitated breathing. Trying desperately to keep her scent and her curves in his memory and in his mouth as long as it was possible. As if they would never again have the chance to be together like this.
He felt her small and soft hands slowly pulling him toward her mouth, and Michael listened to her voice, broken and rasp as she whispered:
-"…Kiss me … Please."
Sara's "Please" sounded needy and desperate, as if she was suddenly afraid of losing him again.
Michael slowly made his way back to her lips, leaving small kisses on her skin. Then he looked at Sara in silence for a few seconds, wondering what was going on.
Michael was about to speak when he heard her desperate tone in his mind again, he combed his fingers gently through her hair, and then that voice in his mind, the voice he so feared, reared its ugly face. With no consideration to his heart the voice spoke coldly in his mind: "There is something wrong, you know that there is something wrong with her… And this time, you know that you will not be able to save her."
Michael kissed Sara, feverishly and with all the passion he had in him, trying to make that voice disappear from his mind. This turned out to be terribly easy when feeling her hot tongue in his mouth, or her breathing breaking against his skin or his hands among her hair, or the taste of her desperate kisses... Because when Michael heard Sara moan his name against his ear everything else seemed miniscule and insignificant to him.
Sara was still awake and Michael was lying next to her. She could feel his warm and heavy arm curled protectively around her body.
He was asleep, or at least Sara thought he was. His eyes were closed and his breathing was quiet and regular. She could feel it against her sweaty hair spread across the pillow.
It was great to have him lying next to her. To close her eyes knowing that Michael Scofield was naked and sleeping in her bed. To look at the dark ink lines on his arm around her body and to know that he would never have to run again in his life. That he was a free man…
"Yes… But think of the price Sara… "
She heard his father's voice in her mind, or at least, the blurred memory of his father's angry voice.
-"…I don't give a damn about the price."
Sara spoke these words softly, but they were filled with rage and anger in the dark room. She didn't even think that Michael could wake up.
"I don't give a damn about the price…"
She repeated those words again, this time in her mind.
It was great to feel Michael's love and desire in every word that he had whispered to her hours ago, and to feel the heat radiating off of his sleeping body against her back, the weight of his tattooed arm wrapped around her…
"I really dont … At least, not tonight."
Because he was there, Michael Scofield, the man that had saved her in more than one way, the man that had come back to her from the Mexican border just to ask of her; one more day, all this after only a paper flower, a riot and one kiss stolen in her infirmary.
Michael…
His name had never sounded more familiar yet distant to Sara than now.
The only noises in the room were their silent breathing and the big ventilators lazily getting rid of the hot and moist air in the room.
Carefully Sara untangled herself from Michael's arm and slipped out of the big bed. She put on the white, thin robe as she walked to the open terrace doors and went outside to the warm breeze in the darkness.
Michael opened his eyes slowly and looked at Sara's diffuse shape outside.
He had slept two hours and for those two hours he had been busy remembering Sara's body and trying to keep her taste in his mouth as long as possible.
He wasn't accustomed to sleep, not without nightmares and fear behind his closed eyelids, and especially, not knowing that Sara Tancredi was naked next to him. Her warm skin against the dark ink on his arm, and knowing that his breath was moving her auburn hair…
For Michael all of that was like being trapped in the infirmary again, yet this time without the world spinning around outside.
He had felt her moving tensely under his arm. So much in fact that Michael thought she was having a nightmare, but then he heard her speaking out loud in the dark room and Michael felt a chill, in spite of all the hot air in the room:
"-I dont give a damn about the price"
Michael didn't know how long she had been in the darkness, out on the terrace, but after a few moments she came back into the room.
Sara took off the robe and threw it on the chair, before slipping back into bed, covering her body with the thin satin sheet.
He felt the warmth of her skin next to him and her strawberry scent mixed with the hot and moist air.
Michael saw her hazelnut eyes shining in the darkness of the room, but he didn't realize that Sara had been crying, when she had been out on the terrace.
Michael looked at her in silence and took hold of her hand softly. He brought it close to his lips, so close that Sara felt his warm breath on her fingers and she could feel Michael lips moving slowly across her skin as he whispered against her fingers:
-"…Sara… "
No one in the whole world could say her name like he could.
She had discovered that a long time ago, and him lying next to her in that bed naked just made it sound even more passionate and warm. Yet Sara also heard a clear tone of fear and concern in his voice when he talked again:
-"…Are you okay?"
Sara smiled softly and caressed his face slowly with her hand; Michael closed his eyes a bit at her touch… He wasn't accustomed to that.
But Michael spoke again, because he needed to make her understand that no matter what was going on, he would do anything for her:
-"Sara… if there is something wrong or…"
-"… I'm fine. I'm fine."
Silently she looked at him for a few seconds before she closed her eyes to sleep.
And Michael knew then that she had lied to him.
He had seen her beautiful eyes trembling in the darkness of the room and her voice had sounded fragile.
"She is not all right, something has happened to her, she didn't tell you, but you know that there is something wrong… You love her more than anything and you're going to lose her.
Maybe you have already lost her."
Michael closed his eyes, trying to silence that voice in his head, fighting against the urge to wake Sara up in order to find out what was going on.
He wanted so badly to whisper to her that no matter what she had done or what was going on, because he would always do what needed to be done to keep her safe.
If he was given a second chance, he would do it all over again.
Michael would give himself up again, just to be able to lay next to her naked like this and to hear her giggling softly against his lips again.
Gently he sifted through her hair with his free hand. She was asleep now. He could see her body moving slowly with her peaceful breathing.
Michael squeezed her small hand and held it against his mouth as he kissed it one more time. Then he curled up against her, wrapping his heavy arm around her naked body and pulled Sara softly against him.
"Maybe you have already lost her…"
Michael closed his eyes to try and sleep a little, but his last thought of his first night as a free man, was of course of her.
He thought that something was truly wrong with Sara.
To be continued…
Feedback is always like sex and coffee combined.