Talk to Me, Doctor
Title: Talk to Me, Doctor
Author: SnowWhite22
Rating: PG
Characters: Michael, Sara, and Lincoln
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or these characters. I just move them around like Barbie Dolls
Genre: General, romance, post-episode, fluff
Summary: A small continuation of the last scene in "Bad Blood". While waiting, Michael and Sara have to have a talk, which turns to more interesting things.
Static fills the room. Sara’s tapping her fingers against the back of my chair. We stare at the screen, each of us tense and poised over the laptop like it is going to give us back our livelihood any second. In all fairness, it just might but at this moment, static is what holds our lives in the balance.
When the computer screen abruptly goes silent and dark, Lincoln behind me lets out a frustrated, pent-up breath.
“What is the hell is going on?” He leans in, as if the black screen is going to start talking to him.
“I don’t know.” I tap a few buttons futilely and then close my eyes. “The power cord. I left it in the car. The battery must have run out.”
Sara inhales deeply and seems to steady herself. “Can we recharge it?”
“Yeah. Linc…” He’s already out the door before I can finish my sentence.
Sara’s looking out the window of the hotel room Kellerman rented for us. I know we can’t stay here. He’s probably on his way back here now. But his anger is less important to me than whatever is on this memory drive. Less important to me than the distant look she’s had on her face since we left Pope’s house.
“It’ll just be a minute.” I say more to fill the silence than to reassure her. She nods, still not looking at me. I watch her back, unsure of how to proceed. I reach over and grab a banana from the complimentary fruit basket and offer it to her. “It’s not steak but…….you should eat.”
“Michael, stop. She turns around suddenly. “Were you going to tell me? If I hadn’t been standing right there when we dropped Pope off, were you going to ever tell me about the deal you made?”
I could lie to her, tell her that turning myself in was a last minute decision and that it was the only thing I could think of but what would be the point? I knew before I walked into Pope’s house there’d be only one way to get him to comply. Sara demanded honestly, even if the lie was easier to live with. That was one thing I had learned about her.
“No.” She presses her lips together and turns back around. I fidget with the banana before laying it on the table. “Sara, I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t have agreed and I didn’t have time to convince you. We had to get Pope, get to the club.” I want to turn her around and make her listen. But you can’t make Sara do anything. I wait and apologize to her back. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“You were going to leave. You were going to abandon me and Lincoln and just….” She gestures wildly towards the door. “Just go rot in some cell while I spend the rest of my life alone on the run.”
“No.” I take her hand then and she stops to look me accusingly in the eye. “No. I was prepared to go to jail because I have faith you and Lincoln would do what is necessary to clear both of your names. Then clear mine. I have faith in you.”
That surprises her, I can tell, and I wonder if anyone has ever said that to her before. She seems to be studying me. “I don’t have that kind of optimism, Michael.”
“Faith isn’t born out of optimism. Optimism can be altered or damaged. You can become a pessimist just as easily as an optimist. But faith is deeper than that. Real faith is what drives you. It’s your core.” I watch as she absorbs that. She looks down at our joined hands.
“Look at this way.” I say. “Does Lincoln seem like an optimist to you?”
She raises an eyebrow and gives me a smirk.
“Right. But he has faith. I know he does. Hey,” I give her hand a tug. “I told you I would make this right. I need you to have faith in that.”
“I’m guessing this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you said ‘make this right’.” She lets out a shaky breath and sinks back into her chair.
I look around the room, amused “No, not exactly. My plan had a little bit more beach and sun.” I grin at her. “Panama. Sandy beaches. Warm nights under the stars.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She gives me as indulgent look. “Tropical drinks with umbrellas and fresh fruit from the jungle.”
I reach over and hand her the banana. “Enjoy, senorita.”
She cracks a grin as she peels it. “With our luck, one of us would catch Dengue Fever or Chagas Disease and end up in some Panamanian excuse for a hospital.” She takes a healthy bite of the banana. “Do you know what Chagas Disease does to your body?”
“Do I want to know?” I muse.
“Actually, Dengue isn’t that bad. Most people only have 2-4 weeks of severe pain but they recover. Chagas will stay in your body and infect you over and over…” She catches herself and gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I studied to be with Doctors Without Borders for a while.”
“Why didn’t you do it?” I like the way she so matter-of-factly went into her spiel. She wears her doctor coat naturally. “You would have done well.”
With a dark look, she shrugs one shoulder. “They frown upon addicts joining a cause for the greater good.”
“Oh.” She’s watching me carefully like she expects me to rebuke her or look at her in disgust or pull my hand out of hers. Instead I kneel down so we are eye-to-eye. Rubbing my thumb on the inside of her wrist, I make sure my voice is low, flirtatious. “What other diseases can we get? I like it when you talk Doctor to me.”
She snorts in disbelief. “Communicable diseases are sexy?”
Not exactly, I started to say, but I like the smile on her face. I want to keep it there. “Oh,” I pull her hands over my shoulders and she links her fingers behind my neck. “Something about the way you say….infect.”
She leans in close, her lips grazing my cheek. “Infect.” She whispers and her breath is on my ear. “Communicable.” She kisses my jaw, just below my ear, and now the words really do sound sexy. She leans back to look me in the eye. “Chagas.” The word rolls off her tongue and I forget what she’s talking about. I kiss her quickly, pulling the weight of her out of the chair and on to my lap. She puts her hands on my shoulders to balance herself, leaning into the kiss. Her lips are sweet, like the fruit she was eating, and her taste fills my mouth. I cup her face, my hand in her soft, short hair. It trails through my fingers and her hands are massaging my neck. She moans softly against my mouth and leans her forehead against mine, a gesture I have started to expect from her when she’s overwhelmed. The fact that I’m learning her mannerisms, able to read her from a few soft movements, gives me hope that there’s more between us besides attraction and extreme circumstances.
She kisses me again softly and leans back into the chair. “You’re crazy, Scofield.”
I shrug and drop my head. I need a minute before I stand up, although my legs have fallen asleep. When I look back up at her, she’s smirking. I take her hand and kiss her fingertips. I contemplate going in again when the door behind me slams open.
Lincoln looks down at me with an expression like “Are you kidding? You’ve got to do this now?” I gave a small chuckle, despite the annoyance on his face. He holds up the power cord wordlessly and then plugs in the computer. I slide into the chair while the computer whirls on. Static fills the room once again and we wait. Lincoln watches the screen from behind me and Sara’s leaning over from her chair to get a better view of the screen. This time, her hand is in my lap threaded through mine.
The End
Author: SnowWhite22
Rating: PG
Characters: Michael, Sara, and Lincoln
Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break or these characters. I just move them around like Barbie Dolls
Genre: General, romance, post-episode, fluff
Summary: A small continuation of the last scene in "Bad Blood". While waiting, Michael and Sara have to have a talk, which turns to more interesting things.
Static fills the room. Sara’s tapping her fingers against the back of my chair. We stare at the screen, each of us tense and poised over the laptop like it is going to give us back our livelihood any second. In all fairness, it just might but at this moment, static is what holds our lives in the balance.
When the computer screen abruptly goes silent and dark, Lincoln behind me lets out a frustrated, pent-up breath.
“What is the hell is going on?” He leans in, as if the black screen is going to start talking to him.
“I don’t know.” I tap a few buttons futilely and then close my eyes. “The power cord. I left it in the car. The battery must have run out.”
Sara inhales deeply and seems to steady herself. “Can we recharge it?”
“Yeah. Linc…” He’s already out the door before I can finish my sentence.
Sara’s looking out the window of the hotel room Kellerman rented for us. I know we can’t stay here. He’s probably on his way back here now. But his anger is less important to me than whatever is on this memory drive. Less important to me than the distant look she’s had on her face since we left Pope’s house.
“It’ll just be a minute.” I say more to fill the silence than to reassure her. She nods, still not looking at me. I watch her back, unsure of how to proceed. I reach over and grab a banana from the complimentary fruit basket and offer it to her. “It’s not steak but…….you should eat.”
“Michael, stop. She turns around suddenly. “Were you going to tell me? If I hadn’t been standing right there when we dropped Pope off, were you going to ever tell me about the deal you made?”
I could lie to her, tell her that turning myself in was a last minute decision and that it was the only thing I could think of but what would be the point? I knew before I walked into Pope’s house there’d be only one way to get him to comply. Sara demanded honestly, even if the lie was easier to live with. That was one thing I had learned about her.
“No.” She presses her lips together and turns back around. I fidget with the banana before laying it on the table. “Sara, I couldn’t tell you. You wouldn’t have agreed and I didn’t have time to convince you. We had to get Pope, get to the club.” I want to turn her around and make her listen. But you can’t make Sara do anything. I wait and apologize to her back. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“You were going to leave. You were going to abandon me and Lincoln and just….” She gestures wildly towards the door. “Just go rot in some cell while I spend the rest of my life alone on the run.”
“No.” I take her hand then and she stops to look me accusingly in the eye. “No. I was prepared to go to jail because I have faith you and Lincoln would do what is necessary to clear both of your names. Then clear mine. I have faith in you.”
That surprises her, I can tell, and I wonder if anyone has ever said that to her before. She seems to be studying me. “I don’t have that kind of optimism, Michael.”
“Faith isn’t born out of optimism. Optimism can be altered or damaged. You can become a pessimist just as easily as an optimist. But faith is deeper than that. Real faith is what drives you. It’s your core.” I watch as she absorbs that. She looks down at our joined hands.
“Look at this way.” I say. “Does Lincoln seem like an optimist to you?”
She raises an eyebrow and gives me a smirk.
“Right. But he has faith. I know he does. Hey,” I give her hand a tug. “I told you I would make this right. I need you to have faith in that.”
“I’m guessing this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when you said ‘make this right’.” She lets out a shaky breath and sinks back into her chair.
I look around the room, amused “No, not exactly. My plan had a little bit more beach and sun.” I grin at her. “Panama. Sandy beaches. Warm nights under the stars.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She gives me as indulgent look. “Tropical drinks with umbrellas and fresh fruit from the jungle.”
I reach over and hand her the banana. “Enjoy, senorita.”
She cracks a grin as she peels it. “With our luck, one of us would catch Dengue Fever or Chagas Disease and end up in some Panamanian excuse for a hospital.” She takes a healthy bite of the banana. “Do you know what Chagas Disease does to your body?”
“Do I want to know?” I muse.
“Actually, Dengue isn’t that bad. Most people only have 2-4 weeks of severe pain but they recover. Chagas will stay in your body and infect you over and over…” She catches herself and gives me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I studied to be with Doctors Without Borders for a while.”
“Why didn’t you do it?” I like the way she so matter-of-factly went into her spiel. She wears her doctor coat naturally. “You would have done well.”
With a dark look, she shrugs one shoulder. “They frown upon addicts joining a cause for the greater good.”
“Oh.” She’s watching me carefully like she expects me to rebuke her or look at her in disgust or pull my hand out of hers. Instead I kneel down so we are eye-to-eye. Rubbing my thumb on the inside of her wrist, I make sure my voice is low, flirtatious. “What other diseases can we get? I like it when you talk Doctor to me.”
She snorts in disbelief. “Communicable diseases are sexy?”
Not exactly, I started to say, but I like the smile on her face. I want to keep it there. “Oh,” I pull her hands over my shoulders and she links her fingers behind my neck. “Something about the way you say….infect.”
She leans in close, her lips grazing my cheek. “Infect.” She whispers and her breath is on my ear. “Communicable.” She kisses my jaw, just below my ear, and now the words really do sound sexy. She leans back to look me in the eye. “Chagas.” The word rolls off her tongue and I forget what she’s talking about. I kiss her quickly, pulling the weight of her out of the chair and on to my lap. She puts her hands on my shoulders to balance herself, leaning into the kiss. Her lips are sweet, like the fruit she was eating, and her taste fills my mouth. I cup her face, my hand in her soft, short hair. It trails through my fingers and her hands are massaging my neck. She moans softly against my mouth and leans her forehead against mine, a gesture I have started to expect from her when she’s overwhelmed. The fact that I’m learning her mannerisms, able to read her from a few soft movements, gives me hope that there’s more between us besides attraction and extreme circumstances.
She kisses me again softly and leans back into the chair. “You’re crazy, Scofield.”
I shrug and drop my head. I need a minute before I stand up, although my legs have fallen asleep. When I look back up at her, she’s smirking. I take her hand and kiss her fingertips. I contemplate going in again when the door behind me slams open.
Lincoln looks down at me with an expression like “Are you kidding? You’ve got to do this now?” I gave a small chuckle, despite the annoyance on his face. He holds up the power cord wordlessly and then plugs in the computer. I slide into the chair while the computer whirls on. Static fills the room once again and we wait. Lincoln watches the screen from behind me and Sara’s leaning over from her chair to get a better view of the screen. This time, her hand is in my lap threaded through mine.
The End