PB Fic - Happily Never After
Title: Happily Never After
Authors: volatile/becisvolatile
Rating: PG-13 (Drugs and a little swearing)
Characters: Sara, Lincoln, Michael (No clearly defined pair, but I like to think of it as M/S/L)
Genre: Angst, What If?, Romance (?) (563 words)
Summary: Paradise is what they make it…
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Especially not anything related to Prison Break.
Notes: So this came from a number of places, firstly from this manip done by thelana, also she’s always talking about her happy endings and how she sees the guys winding up… so really, this is my take on it... only not. It happens to coincide with this plot bunny over at pb_plotbunnies, it’s not exactly the same, but the beginning is quite similar.
There was a stain on the ceiling, just left of the reach of the ceiling fan. Sara swore that it was the shape of a toe. Michael’s severed big toe. Part of her wanted to hold her hands out and wait for that toe to drop into them with a cute little ‘plop’ sound. In fact, she did extend one arm and let it wave loosely around for a few moments before pulling it back to rest on her stomach as she dissolved into giggles.
Lincoln didn’t see the stain, didn’t understand her giggles. But from his position sprawled across the floor with Sara’s head resting back against his stomach, he could appreciate the vibrations of her laughter through his body. She always made him feel good in the most unexpected ways. He picked up a strand of her hair and brushed the ends over his lips before sucking on it. It was salty, she’d spent the morning running through the surf outside the cabin, declaring herself a mermaid princess. He continued to suck at her hair until the earthy, salty taste was gone.
Two years ago, in the weeks immediately after their escape, Lincoln could not imagine voluntarily risking his neck to return to Chicago to save the pretty doctor. It was Michael who had performed that particular feat of daring. But on that floor, staring down the length of her body, along the tanned expanse of those fucking endless legs? He couldn’t imagine living without his life partner in crime.
She rolled her shoulders and he felt himself harden against her. She’d done it deliberately. She always did.
He rolled over, taking her with him, and pinned her body underneath his. She giggled and groaned and seemed to slip her joints as though her body was a series of snakes, living together in female form. He slid and kissed his way down her body, then stopped to pay homage to those legs that belonged wrapped around his waist. He was gracing her shin with open-mouthed kiss when the beads on the door rattled to signal that they weren’t alone.
Michael stood holding a canteen of water, but dropped it as he sighted them and donned his well-practiced look of disapproval.
‘Let me guess… locals selling pot?’
Sara and Lincoln dissolved into giggles; Sara bit her lip and shook her head softly. From a small bag tucked in the strap of her bikini top she removed one tiny white pill. ‘Dutch tourists.’ She held the pill up on the tip of her index finger.
Michael gave a mirthless laugh, stepped to the side and leaned against the wall as he sank to the floor. ‘Fuck. They hang people in places like this for possession.’
Sara merely smiled and began a slow crawl across the floor to Michael. With an exaggerated push and pull of limbs and muscles she moved over him and straddled his lap, Lincoln knelt at her back pressing lazy, sloppy kisses to her exposed shoulders.
‘Well then, Michael’ she said as she pressed the pill past his sun chafed lips, ‘I guess we’d better do away with the evidence.’
She chased the pill with a gentle kiss against his lips, and Michael was hard pressed to decide which was worse for his health. He returned the kiss and settled in for yet another afternoon in their hellish paradise.
Authors: volatile/becisvolatile
Rating: PG-13 (Drugs and a little swearing)
Characters: Sara, Lincoln, Michael (No clearly defined pair, but I like to think of it as M/S/L)
Genre: Angst, What If?, Romance (?) (563 words)
Summary: Paradise is what they make it…
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Especially not anything related to Prison Break.
Notes: So this came from a number of places, firstly from this manip done by thelana, also she’s always talking about her happy endings and how she sees the guys winding up… so really, this is my take on it... only not. It happens to coincide with this plot bunny over at pb_plotbunnies, it’s not exactly the same, but the beginning is quite similar.
There was a stain on the ceiling, just left of the reach of the ceiling fan. Sara swore that it was the shape of a toe. Michael’s severed big toe. Part of her wanted to hold her hands out and wait for that toe to drop into them with a cute little ‘plop’ sound. In fact, she did extend one arm and let it wave loosely around for a few moments before pulling it back to rest on her stomach as she dissolved into giggles.
Lincoln didn’t see the stain, didn’t understand her giggles. But from his position sprawled across the floor with Sara’s head resting back against his stomach, he could appreciate the vibrations of her laughter through his body. She always made him feel good in the most unexpected ways. He picked up a strand of her hair and brushed the ends over his lips before sucking on it. It was salty, she’d spent the morning running through the surf outside the cabin, declaring herself a mermaid princess. He continued to suck at her hair until the earthy, salty taste was gone.
Two years ago, in the weeks immediately after their escape, Lincoln could not imagine voluntarily risking his neck to return to Chicago to save the pretty doctor. It was Michael who had performed that particular feat of daring. But on that floor, staring down the length of her body, along the tanned expanse of those fucking endless legs? He couldn’t imagine living without his life partner in crime.
She rolled her shoulders and he felt himself harden against her. She’d done it deliberately. She always did.
He rolled over, taking her with him, and pinned her body underneath his. She giggled and groaned and seemed to slip her joints as though her body was a series of snakes, living together in female form. He slid and kissed his way down her body, then stopped to pay homage to those legs that belonged wrapped around his waist. He was gracing her shin with open-mouthed kiss when the beads on the door rattled to signal that they weren’t alone.
Michael stood holding a canteen of water, but dropped it as he sighted them and donned his well-practiced look of disapproval.
‘Let me guess… locals selling pot?’
Sara and Lincoln dissolved into giggles; Sara bit her lip and shook her head softly. From a small bag tucked in the strap of her bikini top she removed one tiny white pill. ‘Dutch tourists.’ She held the pill up on the tip of her index finger.
Michael gave a mirthless laugh, stepped to the side and leaned against the wall as he sank to the floor. ‘Fuck. They hang people in places like this for possession.’
Sara merely smiled and began a slow crawl across the floor to Michael. With an exaggerated push and pull of limbs and muscles she moved over him and straddled his lap, Lincoln knelt at her back pressing lazy, sloppy kisses to her exposed shoulders.
‘Well then, Michael’ she said as she pressed the pill past his sun chafed lips, ‘I guess we’d better do away with the evidence.’
She chased the pill with a gentle kiss against his lips, and Michael was hard pressed to decide which was worse for his health. He returned the kiss and settled in for yet another afternoon in their hellish paradise.