Because mavoisine won the who-comments-first-on-this-post-with-a-Michael/Sara-plot-bunny-gets-a-free-drabble-fic. :) Well, it's by no means a drabble, well, ya know me though. I am not good with too little words…. ;)

Sorry, was scribbled rather hastily and hasn't been beta-ed, feel free to point any mistakes to me. :)

Story name: Ghosts of the past

Characters: Michael Scofield, Sara Tancredi, Gretchen Morgan, and somebody else….;)

Pairing: Michael/Sara

Genre: future fic, het, angst, general

Length: approx. 1500 words

Spoilers: none, a future, post-series fic, purely my fantasy

Summary: So…Nicole's plot bunny prompt was this: Sara/Michael meet Gretchen when everything is over. I hope you will like this, hunny, although it's most probably quite different fron what you've expected. Well, the original plan WAS kinda different, but ya know, then I started to write and it turned out quite differently in the end... *sheepish smile*

*hugs you all my dear flist, have missed you like WHOA!*

Ghosts of the past

The Starbucks is unusually full and the sight of the long queue ahead of them causes Michael to send his two favorite girls to sit at the table while he gets the drinks. Their little sweetheart is getting heavier with each passing day, and although Sara would never admit it, carrying the excited toddler around the park for the past two hours up on her arms was more than exhausting.

Feeling the tired muscles of her arms and legs relax the second her bottom hits the chair, Sara carefully positions the 6-month old baby in her lap before sending Michael an appreciative smile. Turning her head to observe the various customers, she spots a beautiful young girl waiting with a woman patiently at the top of the queue, and Sara cannot help but wonder with a smile what their daughter will look at that age.

Finally receiving their order, the girl turns happily, an ice-cream in her hand, while the blond woman – probably her mother – pays at the counter with her back turned to Sara.

Looking into the girl's face, Sara is surprised to be met by a beautiful pair of sky-blue eyes, bright and curious, and sparkling with an innocence only a child can posses. Of course apart from one single adult Sara knows, a person with just as incredible eyes. Luckily enough, those eyes belong to her child's father.

Sara sends the girl a warm smile, and the girl cheerily returns the gesture. Spotting the baby in Sara's arms, the girl starts to approach them slowly, curiosity mixed with coyness slowing down her eager steps. As an encouragement, Sara lifts the baby in her arms slightly, directing her daughter's face towards the girl.

"She's cute," utters the girl quietly with a shy smile dancing over her lips, her ice-cream momentarily forgotten and melting in her hand, trickling through her fingers. Then, remembering her promise not to wander off, she turns around and searches the crowd for her adult companion. "Auntie, auntie!" she calls, "Come and look what a cute baby!"

It's only then the woman with blond hair turns her head and the sight of her causes Sara's smile to freeze on her lips, disbelief and shock contorting her face. The blonde at the counter seems to be frozen as well, a pair of big blue – cold and all too familiar – eyes staring right at Sara. The girl calls her again and it's only then she unglues from the counter, slowly – almost felinely - making her way to Sara's table, her eyes secretly scanning the crowd for Sara's company. On instinct, Sara jerks on her chair backwards, the sudden movement causing the chair to make a nasty screeching noise that gets lost in the buzz of the full room.

Blood thumping in her ears, Sara is still wide-eyed with shock when the woman reaches the table, putting a hand on the girls shoulder, her eyes never leaving Sara.

All Sara can do is feel her heart frantically fluttering in her chest, her body and mind frozen while her mind being in panic.

"This is simply not happening, there is no way she could be here!"

And yet, although with changed hair-color, Sara just knows she is looking into the face of her former torturer. She is not breathing, Sara realizes only then, yet she cannot do anything to help her lungs finding her breath again. The situation is so surreal - so bizarre – she is unable to cope with it, nor come up with any coherent thought.

Sensing her mother's enormous distress, the baby starts to fuzz and fidget in her arms, a soft cry escaping the infant's lips. It's only then Sara realizes with horror she is not alone anymore but has, in fact, a child – her own child - in one and the same room with a person who, for a long time, used to haunt her dreams. Acting upon an instinct only a mother understands, she hugs her daughter tighter to her chest, all kinds of irrational ideas how to make a possible escape already flashing in front of her frantic mind - flee or fight, but at no cost let your child be harmed in any way.

The girl with dark hair wrinkles her forehead in confusion at the suddenly odd behavior of the lady sitting at the table, then shoots a questioning look at her aunt over her shoulder.

"Let's go, Emily," says the former agent quietly, turning the girl around and starting to walk away. The girl flashes a last curious look at Sara before walking away. Sara is still cradling her daughter protectively to her chest, eyes distant as well as alert at the same time.

Sara sits there for what feels like an eternity. Gretchen and her niece disappeared into the busy crowd a long time ago, yet she cannot bring herself to move, to act, nor as much as whimper. It's only her daughter's cries, getting louder with each drawn breath, that manage to snap her back into reality. With a stab of guilt, Sara gently starts to rock and mollify the upset infant.

She slowly starts to recover from the shock of seeing two completely different worlds colliding – two worlds she never thought could mix in any way. The horrible past she so desperately wanted to forget clashing into her present, Sara is left with a horrible chilly feeling, as if an icy crust has been stretched all over her body. The only source of light and warmth, she realizes, is the feel of her daughters body tightly pressed against her chest.

Slowly, Sara looks down at her child, already settled down by her mother's comforting strokes and murmurs, currently trying to snuggle ever deeper into her loving embrace. A sudden painful thought occurs to Sara, a feeling of dread spreading across her chest, almost shattering her heart. She remembers how she once used to be so incredibly close to death - or the loss of Michael, which would be just as same as being dead herself – and with these thoughts comes the realization that if anything – any tiny detail whatsoever - had gone differently, this miracle of life she is currently holding in her arms would never be born. And the heaviness of such a simple truth almost crushes her.

She starts to plant little soft kisses to the baby's soft curly hair, all the same lovingly stroking her daughter's back in a manner she knows to be soothing. Focusing solely on the bundle of joy in her arms, Sara realizes it's their child that is the most eloquent evidence of their survival and their fresh start, a new life - hers and Michaels – they created together.

A stuffy Panamanian makeshift prison all of a sudden seems too far away, a vicious Company agent called Gretchen only a fading memory of a part of her past that somehow doesn't fit into this life anymore.

A hand touched her shoulder softly, and Michael's familiar frame slips into the chair next to hers, placing two steaming coffee cups on the table in front of her. His huge grin fades when he casts a closer look at her sheet-white face however. Without a word, he takes her free hand into his, surprised at how cold it feels.

"Hey, is everything alright?" he asks, worry lacing his voice. She nods in affirmation, a breath she didn't know she was holding leaving her lungs in a rush.

"You look like you've seen a ghost…" utters Michael with concern, his eyes searching her face for possible explanation to her sudden change of mood. Ironically, his apt remark actually brings a sad smile to her lips; " If he only knew what kind of "ghost" she's just run into…actually, no, he doesn't need to know at all."

She makes a quick decision not to share her unexpected encounter with Gretchen with him, the experience still feeling too unreal, somehow not fitting into their new life anymore. Her fingers gently squeeze his hand, her eyes wandering to his - two blue pools still filled with as much love and innocence and hope as the day she met him – a rather miraculous thing regards everything they've been through since then.

"I'm fine," she says quietly at last, and she means it. Watching his eyes narrow causes her to let out a small chuckle, she knows him too well to know he doesn't buy her story at all and is currently deciding whether to drop or push the subject. Bringing him out of his misery, she rises to her feet, carefully balancing the sleepy infant on her hip, protectively bringing her daughter's head to rest securely against her shoulder.

"Let's get out of here," she suggest softly, holding her hand out to his still sitting form. He skillfully takes both coffees into one of his hands, his other one grabbing her outstretched arm eagerly.

Flashing Sara a toothy smile, Michael pronounces with mincing nonchalance; "Ladies, let's go home."

She cannot help but smile.

xxx