Exception to the rule
Title: Exception to the rule
Author: Maj
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Michael Scofield, Sara Tancredi
Summary: He thinks of her, of everything.
Spoilers/Warnings: none.
Disclaimer: I don’t own a thing
A/N: Wrote for the prisonbreak100
Here is my table
Exception to the rule
Everything went according to plan, minus 2 toes and other rocks in the road. But now they were out, alive and safe enjoying Panama, the sun, the beach, the ocean, and cold beers. LJ and Veronica came short after, and Lincoln and them became a family. He felt out of place, he wanted the same.
Nick stayed on the US with the “paperwork” for the exoneration. Actually he thought it was better than planned, they were getting their lives back.
But not quiet perfect, he regretted. He committed a simple mistake than change his life forever. He fell for her, and allowed both of them to get hurt in the process. He let her in; she was deep under his skin. Everything reminded him of her.
He loved to contemplate the ocean, while zipping a cold beer and listening to music, mixing to the sound of the ocean. This song from incubus was on repeat, because it reminded of her. She was an exception to the rule, something that didn’t went according to plan. She was everything he ever wanted, and independent, intelligent, sexy, strong, with ideal and believes, woman. He should have guessed he’ll fall for her.
Every time he was left alone with his mind, he thought of her. What was she doing, if she hated him, remembers him or ever thought of him? But most of the time he made up scenarios on his mind. What if?
The most pure thoughts were different places and circumstances they’ve could have met. At school, in the library, or bumping in a hallway. At a bar, both having a beer, watching a Cubs game. Being introduced by mutual friends, what a coincidence, right?
Or at a function, he learned by investigating her, that they attended several charity functions together, well not together but they both were there, at the same time in the same place, but never thought each other.
So he imagined he was wearing a suit, grey, with white shirt and a bluish grey tie, that one he liked a lot, his favorite, having a beer and doing small talk with no one in particular, when he sees her, enter to the room, with a classic but sexy black dress, simple, elegant but beautiful, she’ll take his breath away, and he’ll do anything to approach her and say something.
They’ll flirt all night, stilling glances at each other, timid smiles and some words passing on, when he finally made up his mind to ask her out, to have a coffee, and they’ll talk all night at a café near by. They’ll exchange phone numbers, and he’ll ask her out the next day, and the next one, and the next one.
They’ll be in a relation ship right away having breakfast in bed, or Sunday mornings in the café they’ve met, reading the paper, cooking for her, waiting for her to come back from work. Arguing and making up. Routine with her must be wonderful and not monotonous at all, he thought.
He loved creating this scenes on his mind, every day a different one, sometime he’ll be bolder, kissing her, other times, he’ll be passive waiting for her, and she’ll kiss him passionately at the end of the day, some times, she even ask him to come in.
Those were the “alone at night” thoughts. In the solitude of his room, the most impure thoughts dominated his mind, listening to the night. He got his most sexual thoughts in the hot Caribbean nights. He imagined her body, her naked form, how she smelled, he guessed a hint of salty sweat, citrus with a mix of wild roses and something unique, of her. How she tasted, he guesses her smooth skin tasted like heaven, vanilla ice cream with a hint of doctors office. He thought of other perfumes, her shampoo, her wet hair after a day at the beach or his personal favorite, her sex perfume after of a day of passionate love making.
He loved picturing her in bed with him, whispering, pillow talking after making love, having sex, and fucking all together. Or in the kitchen making love in the counter. Or going down on her, on showering with her.
This were most of her thoughts of her, them, sex, sweat. He got lost himself in the night with his thoughts to please himself like he knows she would do.
Lyrics:
Southern Girl - Incubus
Is everything a baited hook?
and are there locks on all doors?
if your're looking for an open book
look no further, I am yours
We'll behave like animals
swing from tree to tree
we can do anything
that turns you up and sets you free
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
So come outside and walk with me
we'll try each other on to see if we fit
and with our roots, become a tree
to shade what we make under it
We'll behave like animals
swing from tree to tree
we can do anything
that turns you up and sets you free
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl
Author: Maj
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Michael Scofield, Sara Tancredi
Summary: He thinks of her, of everything.
Spoilers/Warnings: none.
Disclaimer: I don’t own a thing
A/N: Wrote for the prisonbreak100
Here is my table
Exception to the rule
Everything went according to plan, minus 2 toes and other rocks in the road. But now they were out, alive and safe enjoying Panama, the sun, the beach, the ocean, and cold beers. LJ and Veronica came short after, and Lincoln and them became a family. He felt out of place, he wanted the same.
Nick stayed on the US with the “paperwork” for the exoneration. Actually he thought it was better than planned, they were getting their lives back.
But not quiet perfect, he regretted. He committed a simple mistake than change his life forever. He fell for her, and allowed both of them to get hurt in the process. He let her in; she was deep under his skin. Everything reminded him of her.
He loved to contemplate the ocean, while zipping a cold beer and listening to music, mixing to the sound of the ocean. This song from incubus was on repeat, because it reminded of her. She was an exception to the rule, something that didn’t went according to plan. She was everything he ever wanted, and independent, intelligent, sexy, strong, with ideal and believes, woman. He should have guessed he’ll fall for her.
Every time he was left alone with his mind, he thought of her. What was she doing, if she hated him, remembers him or ever thought of him? But most of the time he made up scenarios on his mind. What if?
The most pure thoughts were different places and circumstances they’ve could have met. At school, in the library, or bumping in a hallway. At a bar, both having a beer, watching a Cubs game. Being introduced by mutual friends, what a coincidence, right?
Or at a function, he learned by investigating her, that they attended several charity functions together, well not together but they both were there, at the same time in the same place, but never thought each other.
So he imagined he was wearing a suit, grey, with white shirt and a bluish grey tie, that one he liked a lot, his favorite, having a beer and doing small talk with no one in particular, when he sees her, enter to the room, with a classic but sexy black dress, simple, elegant but beautiful, she’ll take his breath away, and he’ll do anything to approach her and say something.
They’ll flirt all night, stilling glances at each other, timid smiles and some words passing on, when he finally made up his mind to ask her out, to have a coffee, and they’ll talk all night at a café near by. They’ll exchange phone numbers, and he’ll ask her out the next day, and the next one, and the next one.
They’ll be in a relation ship right away having breakfast in bed, or Sunday mornings in the café they’ve met, reading the paper, cooking for her, waiting for her to come back from work. Arguing and making up. Routine with her must be wonderful and not monotonous at all, he thought.
He loved creating this scenes on his mind, every day a different one, sometime he’ll be bolder, kissing her, other times, he’ll be passive waiting for her, and she’ll kiss him passionately at the end of the day, some times, she even ask him to come in.
Those were the “alone at night” thoughts. In the solitude of his room, the most impure thoughts dominated his mind, listening to the night. He got his most sexual thoughts in the hot Caribbean nights. He imagined her body, her naked form, how she smelled, he guessed a hint of salty sweat, citrus with a mix of wild roses and something unique, of her. How she tasted, he guesses her smooth skin tasted like heaven, vanilla ice cream with a hint of doctors office. He thought of other perfumes, her shampoo, her wet hair after a day at the beach or his personal favorite, her sex perfume after of a day of passionate love making.
He loved picturing her in bed with him, whispering, pillow talking after making love, having sex, and fucking all together. Or in the kitchen making love in the counter. Or going down on her, on showering with her.
This were most of her thoughts of her, them, sex, sweat. He got lost himself in the night with his thoughts to please himself like he knows she would do.
Lyrics:
Southern Girl - Incubus
Is everything a baited hook?
and are there locks on all doors?
if your're looking for an open book
look no further, I am yours
We'll behave like animals
swing from tree to tree
we can do anything
that turns you up and sets you free
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
So come outside and walk with me
we'll try each other on to see if we fit
and with our roots, become a tree
to shade what we make under it
We'll behave like animals
swing from tree to tree
we can do anything
that turns you up and sets you free
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
You're an exception to the rule
you're a bonafide rarity
you're all I ever wanted
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl, could you want me?
southern girl