M/S fanfic
Title: Everything
Rating: M, nothing too bad though.
Pairing: Michael/Sara
They stared at each other from the distance of a few metres, relief evident on their features. Without hesitation, they stepped towards each other, wrapping themselves in an embrace. “God it’s good to see you.” Michael whispered in her ear. He pulled her tighter, and she clung to his waist, convincing herself that he was really here with her.
"I saw the news report. I thought that... God, I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
“We got a lucky break,” Sara pulled back a little, and looked questioningly at him. He added, “And an inside guy. He got screwed over by the president, and now he wants to help. Or so he says. We just have to be careful.”
"Where's Lincoln? Is he okay?"
"Linc's fine. He's.." Michael trailed off as he noticed, despite being pulled back with a hair tye, the length of her hair was significantly shorter.
"Michael?"
"Chicago. I got your message. What happened?"
Squinting her eyes against the sun that was shining directly behind Michael, Sara glanced around him quickly before replying. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
******
Michael dropped down on top of the neatly made bed, and glanced around the room. He had no idea who the house belonged to, nor when the owners would be back. But upon a search it had appeared to be fairly vacant, devoid of a lot of personal touches, and he hoped they were on a long vacation.
He pulled a disposable cell phone from his pocket, checking to make sure it was on, and then slid it on to the bedside table. He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged out of it and then tossed it aside as he slouched into a comfortable position to think over the events that had landed them here.
******
“What’s it for?”
“I have no idea.” Sara tossed Michael the key she’d retrieved from her bag. He held it inches from him face, turning it between his fingers as he studied it.
Sara watched him. “However, I do know that they’re desperate to get it back.”
Michael’s eyes immediately shifted from the key to Sara’s face, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“After..” she cleared her throat, and started again “After I left our room in Gila, someone found me. He was asking for something my father gave me, that didn’t belong to me. I’m assuming he was talking about that.” She nodded towards the key.
"I'm guessing he didn't just ask questions."
"No."
An uneasy silence came between them. Michael was the first to break it.
“Did he tell you who he was?”
"Lance." She let out small, bitter laugh. "No.. not Lance." Her brow creased and she shut her eyes, while Michael inwardly cursed at the thought that she was trying to recall a detail from a period he knew she'd sooner love to forget.
Her eyes snapped open ."Kellerman.”
“Kellerman?” Bastard. “You’re sure?”
"I may have been a little out of it, but yeah.. I'm sure. You’ve come across him before?"
"He's our inside guy. I have to call Linc."
******
Stepping out of the shower, Sara grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. Steam covered the mirror, and she reached out to wipe it away with her hand.
She stared back at her reflection, for the first time really feeling the loss of her long hair. That had always been a constant, and now it was different too. She hurried to finish drying off, and redressed in the clothes she’d removed 15 minutes earlier.
She took one final glance in the mirror, before retreating from the bathroom to find Michael.
******
“I was coming back - To our hotel room in Gila ”
The statement startled Michael, as they had been laying off any heavy subjects for the past half an hour.. “I just.. wanted to tell you that. ”
“I’m glad you did.”
Sara unconsciously raised her arms to her head, running her fingers through her hair. One look at Michael and she wished she hadn’t. Her new, slightly loose fitting top had meant the sleeves had come sliding down half way, exposing her injured arm to him.
His mouth fell open, and she saw his eyes take in the messy stitches and the dried blood surrounding them. She knew how bad it looked.
“Kellerman?”
Sara hesitated, debating her next move. She didn’t have the emotional strength to have this conversation right now. “It’s fine.” She replied steadily, but in such a way that told Michael ‘It’s not, but don’t ask.’
“Look, I’m just going to go wash up.”
Michael sighed, but silently watched as she retreated from the room.
******
Sara found him in the main bedroom, shirtless, and perched on the side of the queen sized bed. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, and, figuring he didn’t know she was standing there, took the opportunity to let her gaze linger on his back.
The burn gracing his right shoulder was still, unsurprisingly, red and angry looking. She winced, recalling the night when Michael had been brought in to her. He’d been in so much pain, and she’d felt more of her resolve to distance herself from him slip away.
It had also been her first opportunity to get a good look at his tattoos. She’d known they’d felt uncharacteristically wrong, but nothing she’d felt about them then could have prepared her for the knowledge of what really lay in those tattoos.
Sara watched as he ran both of his hands through his hair. It seemed longer, if possible, than the last time she's seen him. His hands had come to rest on either side of his face, and he appeared to be deep in thought, staring off into the sliver of dark sky that could be seen through the open curtain.
She was slightly startled when Michael turned his head in her direction, and breathed out a quick, whispery "Sara."
"Hey." She felt guilty for having been caught staring, but met his gaze all the same. "How long.."
"A while." He stood and walked over to stand in front of her. "I figured you'd say something when you were ready, but I was getting antsy sitting in the same spot. Needed to move."
He was grinning at her, and she felt the edges of her own mouth turning up in response. The smile had reached his eyes, and it made her feel warm.
She stepped past him and made her way to the window where she unhooked the cord, leaving the curtain to fall closed. A lamp stood on the bedside table, and she flicked it on. “What were you thinking about?"
"Today. Yesterday." He sighed and glanced down at the carpet. "Tomorrow."
He held out his arms in front of him, palms up, and Sara trailed the tattoos that covered them with her eyes. "I had everything planned, down to the exact details. I had back up plans. But none of that matters when you find your brothers in the middle of a damn government conspiracy.”
“Hey..he’s out. Lincoln’s free, and so are you. At least for now, and that matters, Michael. The rest we can deal with when it happens.”
He smiled a little when the word ‘we’ crossed her lips. "So, same question to you."
“What?”
“What were you thinking about before? Standing in the doorway..”
"I was thinking..” she watched as Michael cocked his head to the side, awaiting her response, “that I should really check that burn on your back."
Michael laughed, but realised she was serious when he saw her raised eyebrows. She flicked her wrist around in a turning motion. "Turn around, please."
Michael did as he was told. Soon, her fingers were touching the skin surrounding his wound, and he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. "Well, good news. It seems to be healing quite well, considering your current circumstances."
He turned his head and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Thank you." He said sincerely.
She took her fingers off his back. "You're welcome." Michael turned back around to face her, his own hand gently grabbing hold of her arm and sliding down it until her hand lay in his.
"So.. what else were you thinking about?"
"Everything." She pulled her hand from his quickly and turned away, leaving Michael momentarily confused.
"Sara?"
"Damn it." She whispered, and before Michael could say anymore, Sara had spun back towards him and her lips came crashing to his. He hesitated only a second before eagerly responding, deepening the kiss. Several minutes later, he pulled away reluctantly.
"Sara.."
She pressed her index finger against his lips, silencing him.
"I was thinking about everything, Michael. And do you know what conclusion I came to? That I'm tired of thinking. So tonight, I'm not going to. And neither are you."
Reaching out her hand towards him, she began to trace a line of his tattoo that began on his shoulder. "Forget about government conspiracies, and saving the world and just.. feel."
Her hand had trailed down his side, and was now situated at the waistband of his pants, and she moved her other hand to the same position on the other side. Michael felt his resolve crumble as he watched her watching him with desire in her eyes. Moments later the space between them had been well and truly closed, and they were kissing with an intense passion as they stumbled their way across the room and collapsed together on the bed.
End.
Author's Notes: If you think this fic sucked, you are more than welcome to tell me! Really ;) And thank you to Jen for looking this over.
Rating: M, nothing too bad though.
Pairing: Michael/Sara
They stared at each other from the distance of a few metres, relief evident on their features. Without hesitation, they stepped towards each other, wrapping themselves in an embrace. “God it’s good to see you.” Michael whispered in her ear. He pulled her tighter, and she clung to his waist, convincing herself that he was really here with her.
"I saw the news report. I thought that... God, I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
“We got a lucky break,” Sara pulled back a little, and looked questioningly at him. He added, “And an inside guy. He got screwed over by the president, and now he wants to help. Or so he says. We just have to be careful.”
"Where's Lincoln? Is he okay?"
"Linc's fine. He's.." Michael trailed off as he noticed, despite being pulled back with a hair tye, the length of her hair was significantly shorter.
"Michael?"
"Chicago. I got your message. What happened?"
Squinting her eyes against the sun that was shining directly behind Michael, Sara glanced around him quickly before replying. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
******
Michael dropped down on top of the neatly made bed, and glanced around the room. He had no idea who the house belonged to, nor when the owners would be back. But upon a search it had appeared to be fairly vacant, devoid of a lot of personal touches, and he hoped they were on a long vacation.
He pulled a disposable cell phone from his pocket, checking to make sure it was on, and then slid it on to the bedside table. He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged out of it and then tossed it aside as he slouched into a comfortable position to think over the events that had landed them here.
******
“What’s it for?”
“I have no idea.” Sara tossed Michael the key she’d retrieved from her bag. He held it inches from him face, turning it between his fingers as he studied it.
Sara watched him. “However, I do know that they’re desperate to get it back.”
Michael’s eyes immediately shifted from the key to Sara’s face, but she refused to meet his eyes.
“After..” she cleared her throat, and started again “After I left our room in Gila, someone found me. He was asking for something my father gave me, that didn’t belong to me. I’m assuming he was talking about that.” She nodded towards the key.
"I'm guessing he didn't just ask questions."
"No."
An uneasy silence came between them. Michael was the first to break it.
“Did he tell you who he was?”
"Lance." She let out small, bitter laugh. "No.. not Lance." Her brow creased and she shut her eyes, while Michael inwardly cursed at the thought that she was trying to recall a detail from a period he knew she'd sooner love to forget.
Her eyes snapped open ."Kellerman.”
“Kellerman?” Bastard. “You’re sure?”
"I may have been a little out of it, but yeah.. I'm sure. You’ve come across him before?"
"He's our inside guy. I have to call Linc."
******
Stepping out of the shower, Sara grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body. Steam covered the mirror, and she reached out to wipe it away with her hand.
She stared back at her reflection, for the first time really feeling the loss of her long hair. That had always been a constant, and now it was different too. She hurried to finish drying off, and redressed in the clothes she’d removed 15 minutes earlier.
She took one final glance in the mirror, before retreating from the bathroom to find Michael.
******
“I was coming back - To our hotel room in Gila ”
The statement startled Michael, as they had been laying off any heavy subjects for the past half an hour.. “I just.. wanted to tell you that. ”
“I’m glad you did.”
Sara unconsciously raised her arms to her head, running her fingers through her hair. One look at Michael and she wished she hadn’t. Her new, slightly loose fitting top had meant the sleeves had come sliding down half way, exposing her injured arm to him.
His mouth fell open, and she saw his eyes take in the messy stitches and the dried blood surrounding them. She knew how bad it looked.
“Kellerman?”
Sara hesitated, debating her next move. She didn’t have the emotional strength to have this conversation right now. “It’s fine.” She replied steadily, but in such a way that told Michael ‘It’s not, but don’t ask.’
“Look, I’m just going to go wash up.”
Michael sighed, but silently watched as she retreated from the room.
******
Sara found him in the main bedroom, shirtless, and perched on the side of the queen sized bed. He didn’t acknowledge her presence, and, figuring he didn’t know she was standing there, took the opportunity to let her gaze linger on his back.
The burn gracing his right shoulder was still, unsurprisingly, red and angry looking. She winced, recalling the night when Michael had been brought in to her. He’d been in so much pain, and she’d felt more of her resolve to distance herself from him slip away.
It had also been her first opportunity to get a good look at his tattoos. She’d known they’d felt uncharacteristically wrong, but nothing she’d felt about them then could have prepared her for the knowledge of what really lay in those tattoos.
Sara watched as he ran both of his hands through his hair. It seemed longer, if possible, than the last time she's seen him. His hands had come to rest on either side of his face, and he appeared to be deep in thought, staring off into the sliver of dark sky that could be seen through the open curtain.
She was slightly startled when Michael turned his head in her direction, and breathed out a quick, whispery "Sara."
"Hey." She felt guilty for having been caught staring, but met his gaze all the same. "How long.."
"A while." He stood and walked over to stand in front of her. "I figured you'd say something when you were ready, but I was getting antsy sitting in the same spot. Needed to move."
He was grinning at her, and she felt the edges of her own mouth turning up in response. The smile had reached his eyes, and it made her feel warm.
She stepped past him and made her way to the window where she unhooked the cord, leaving the curtain to fall closed. A lamp stood on the bedside table, and she flicked it on. “What were you thinking about?"
"Today. Yesterday." He sighed and glanced down at the carpet. "Tomorrow."
He held out his arms in front of him, palms up, and Sara trailed the tattoos that covered them with her eyes. "I had everything planned, down to the exact details. I had back up plans. But none of that matters when you find your brothers in the middle of a damn government conspiracy.”
“Hey..he’s out. Lincoln’s free, and so are you. At least for now, and that matters, Michael. The rest we can deal with when it happens.”
He smiled a little when the word ‘we’ crossed her lips. "So, same question to you."
“What?”
“What were you thinking about before? Standing in the doorway..”
"I was thinking..” she watched as Michael cocked his head to the side, awaiting her response, “that I should really check that burn on your back."
Michael laughed, but realised she was serious when he saw her raised eyebrows. She flicked her wrist around in a turning motion. "Turn around, please."
Michael did as he was told. Soon, her fingers were touching the skin surrounding his wound, and he felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. "Well, good news. It seems to be healing quite well, considering your current circumstances."
He turned his head and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Thank you." He said sincerely.
She took her fingers off his back. "You're welcome." Michael turned back around to face her, his own hand gently grabbing hold of her arm and sliding down it until her hand lay in his.
"So.. what else were you thinking about?"
"Everything." She pulled her hand from his quickly and turned away, leaving Michael momentarily confused.
"Sara?"
"Damn it." She whispered, and before Michael could say anymore, Sara had spun back towards him and her lips came crashing to his. He hesitated only a second before eagerly responding, deepening the kiss. Several minutes later, he pulled away reluctantly.
"Sara.."
She pressed her index finger against his lips, silencing him.
"I was thinking about everything, Michael. And do you know what conclusion I came to? That I'm tired of thinking. So tonight, I'm not going to. And neither are you."
Reaching out her hand towards him, she began to trace a line of his tattoo that began on his shoulder. "Forget about government conspiracies, and saving the world and just.. feel."
Her hand had trailed down his side, and was now situated at the waistband of his pants, and she moved her other hand to the same position on the other side. Michael felt his resolve crumble as he watched her watching him with desire in her eyes. Moments later the space between them had been well and truly closed, and they were kissing with an intense passion as they stumbled their way across the room and collapsed together on the bed.
End.
Author's Notes: If you think this fic sucked, you are more than welcome to tell me! Really ;) And thank you to Jen for looking this over.