La Hermana - Hiatus Fic Challenge (1/1)
Title: La Hermana (1/1)
Fandom: Prison Break
Genre: Challenge fic, het, OC
Characters: Michael Scofield, Original Female Character
Rating: PG-13
Length: 317 words
Summary:Mary Sues aren't bad. They're just drawn written that way.
Author's Note: Written for the Is That You, Mary Sue? challenge at pbhiatus_fic. Can I just say now for the record that even writing this relatively mild Mary Sue made me squirm? LOL. *goes to wash hands*
~*~
He’d had the feeling of being watched from the moment they’d set out that morning, an itch at the back of his neck, an uneasy rippling through his gut. By the time they’d stopped for the night, he’d decided they were either being tailed by trained Black Ops or a figment of his imagination, because there was nothing and no one there.
He got his answer at sunrise. Making his way back from the car after checking the oil and water, he had the breath knocked out of him and was flat on his back before he knew what was happening. Blinking, Michael stared up at the slender woman standing over him, and desperately tried to work out what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”
Her eyes were violet, a colour he’d never seen outside a movie screen, and right now they were flashing with anger. She was as dark as Sara was fair, a thick cloud of raven-coloured hair spilling over her shoulders. It glowed in the early morning sunlight, more than a match for the gleaming pistol trained on his heart. “Where is he?”
He? His first thought was of Lincoln, but that made no sense. This woman wasn’t Company, he would have staked his life on it. Perhaps he was, simply by talking to her instead of shouting for his brother. “You’ve been following us.”
Her wide, rose-tinted lips curved in a way he definitely shouldn’t have noticed. “Yes.”
Michael stared at her. As foolish as it might seem - and despite the fact she was holding a gun in her delicate but rock-steady hands - he sensed he was in no real danger from this woman. “Why?”
“I am Isabella Yolanda Sucre.” She took a step backward as her last word sunk into his brain, her almost hypnotic gaze pinning him to the ground. “Where the hell is my brother?”
~*~
Fandom: Prison Break
Genre: Challenge fic, het, OC
Characters: Michael Scofield, Original Female Character
Rating: PG-13
Length: 317 words
Summary:Mary Sues aren't bad. They're just drawn written that way.
Author's Note: Written for the Is That You, Mary Sue? challenge at pbhiatus_fic. Can I just say now for the record that even writing this relatively mild Mary Sue made me squirm? LOL. *goes to wash hands*
~*~
He’d had the feeling of being watched from the moment they’d set out that morning, an itch at the back of his neck, an uneasy rippling through his gut. By the time they’d stopped for the night, he’d decided they were either being tailed by trained Black Ops or a figment of his imagination, because there was nothing and no one there.
He got his answer at sunrise. Making his way back from the car after checking the oil and water, he had the breath knocked out of him and was flat on his back before he knew what was happening. Blinking, Michael stared up at the slender woman standing over him, and desperately tried to work out what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”
Her eyes were violet, a colour he’d never seen outside a movie screen, and right now they were flashing with anger. She was as dark as Sara was fair, a thick cloud of raven-coloured hair spilling over her shoulders. It glowed in the early morning sunlight, more than a match for the gleaming pistol trained on his heart. “Where is he?”
He? His first thought was of Lincoln, but that made no sense. This woman wasn’t Company, he would have staked his life on it. Perhaps he was, simply by talking to her instead of shouting for his brother. “You’ve been following us.”
Her wide, rose-tinted lips curved in a way he definitely shouldn’t have noticed. “Yes.”
Michael stared at her. As foolish as it might seem - and despite the fact she was holding a gun in her delicate but rock-steady hands - he sensed he was in no real danger from this woman. “Why?”
“I am Isabella Yolanda Sucre.” She took a step backward as her last word sunk into his brain, her almost hypnotic gaze pinning him to the ground. “Where the hell is my brother?”
~*~