michael/sara oneshot
Title: Buoyancy
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Words: 580
Rating: G
Spoilers: for episode 4x21, nothing beyond that.
Summary: He holds her for a long time; her strong exhale of breath next to his ear suggesting relief.
AN: This is a continuation of the last MS scene in 4x21. No links or references to the unhappy ending. I have not yet seen The Final Break, so if you reply, I would really appreciate no icons or spoilers from it. Thank you!
Buoyancy
1. the power of supporting a body so that it floats; upward pressure exerted by the fluid in which a body is immersed.
2. lightness or resilience of spirit; cheerfulness.
* * *
He holds her for a long time; her strong exhale of breath next to his ear suggesting relief. Was she fearful of this moment? He hopes not. The thought that he had made her expect anything less that sheer joy from him makes his ever-present guilt rise to the surface.
"Did Christina tell you?" she asks after a moment, curiosity getting the better of her. She breaks the hug and pulls back to look him in the eye.
"Lincoln," he answers simply, his hands cradling her wrists, his thumbs gently tracing red marks: a cruel reminder of the day’s trauma.
A flicker of confusion dances across Sara's face, but then she nods. "She must have told him."
"How did she - " Michael asks, his thumbs stilling as he concentrates on Sara's words.
"She guessed. I didn't tell her," she clarifies almost defensively, though Michael hadn't meant to speak with accusation.
He glances down with a slight nod and furrow of the brow. She places a hand on the side of his face and raises his gaze to hers. She reads his face in an instant: guilt. An expression she’s seen him wear more times than she’d like, many more times than he deserves.
"Hey, I wasn't expecting you to just know," she says. " I was going to tell you I just wasn't sure when would be the right time to - "
"I know. It's okay,” he says sincerely.
She nods, and then, as she sees Michael smile and feels his hand stroke her hair - recently let loose from its ponytail - she leans into him and drops her head gently against his left shoulder. He lets his arms wrap around her and his cheek rest against her head, soft auburn waves against his rough cheek.
He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, but his mind suddenly thinks of one thing he does know: nausea is common. “Do you feel okay?” he asks, quietly, as if not wanting to fully break the peaceful silence.
She nods, her face nestled into the softness of his sweater. “I’m happy,” she says softly and slowly. It wasn’t what he meant, and he knows she knows that. Perhaps, he thinks, that for this, physical and mental health are one in he same. She presses a kiss to his shoulder and pulls back once again.
“We’d better go.” She glances down at the inside part of Scylla that sits on the table. She tucks a strand of her behind her left ear and starts to turn towards the door.
“Sara,” he says her name with grace, gently laying a hand on her arm to encourage her to wait. “This is great news,” he says with certainty, his eyes locked on hers. It’s not an eloquent speech or a flurry of positive adjectives, but the simple words combined with the sincere look in his eye - and the glint of hope she was worried he was losing - mean everything to her.
She smiles and feels her cheeks hurt. She doesn’t recall the last time she felt that wondrous pain.
Michael picks up Scylla and whatever else they need - for once Sara doesn’t notice exactly what. She moves towards the door, Michael’s hand grazing her back, guiding and loving. She knows she’s not alone in her joy.
Pairing: Michael/Sara
Words: 580
Rating: G
Spoilers: for episode 4x21, nothing beyond that.
Summary: He holds her for a long time; her strong exhale of breath next to his ear suggesting relief.
AN: This is a continuation of the last MS scene in 4x21. No links or references to the unhappy ending. I have not yet seen The Final Break, so if you reply, I would really appreciate no icons or spoilers from it. Thank you!
Buoyancy
1. the power of supporting a body so that it floats; upward pressure exerted by the fluid in which a body is immersed.
2. lightness or resilience of spirit; cheerfulness.
* * *
He holds her for a long time; her strong exhale of breath next to his ear suggesting relief. Was she fearful of this moment? He hopes not. The thought that he had made her expect anything less that sheer joy from him makes his ever-present guilt rise to the surface.
"Did Christina tell you?" she asks after a moment, curiosity getting the better of her. She breaks the hug and pulls back to look him in the eye.
"Lincoln," he answers simply, his hands cradling her wrists, his thumbs gently tracing red marks: a cruel reminder of the day’s trauma.
A flicker of confusion dances across Sara's face, but then she nods. "She must have told him."
"How did she - " Michael asks, his thumbs stilling as he concentrates on Sara's words.
"She guessed. I didn't tell her," she clarifies almost defensively, though Michael hadn't meant to speak with accusation.
He glances down with a slight nod and furrow of the brow. She places a hand on the side of his face and raises his gaze to hers. She reads his face in an instant: guilt. An expression she’s seen him wear more times than she’d like, many more times than he deserves.
"Hey, I wasn't expecting you to just know," she says. " I was going to tell you I just wasn't sure when would be the right time to - "
"I know. It's okay,” he says sincerely.
She nods, and then, as she sees Michael smile and feels his hand stroke her hair - recently let loose from its ponytail - she leans into him and drops her head gently against his left shoulder. He lets his arms wrap around her and his cheek rest against her head, soft auburn waves against his rough cheek.
He doesn’t know much about pregnancy, but his mind suddenly thinks of one thing he does know: nausea is common. “Do you feel okay?” he asks, quietly, as if not wanting to fully break the peaceful silence.
She nods, her face nestled into the softness of his sweater. “I’m happy,” she says softly and slowly. It wasn’t what he meant, and he knows she knows that. Perhaps, he thinks, that for this, physical and mental health are one in he same. She presses a kiss to his shoulder and pulls back once again.
“We’d better go.” She glances down at the inside part of Scylla that sits on the table. She tucks a strand of her behind her left ear and starts to turn towards the door.
“Sara,” he says her name with grace, gently laying a hand on her arm to encourage her to wait. “This is great news,” he says with certainty, his eyes locked on hers. It’s not an eloquent speech or a flurry of positive adjectives, but the simple words combined with the sincere look in his eye - and the glint of hope she was worried he was losing - mean everything to her.
She smiles and feels her cheeks hurt. She doesn’t recall the last time she felt that wondrous pain.
Michael picks up Scylla and whatever else they need - for once Sara doesn’t notice exactly what. She moves towards the door, Michael’s hand grazing her back, guiding and loving. She knows she’s not alone in her joy.