weeee, last chap ppl! not only is this the longest chap of a fic i've ever written, it's also the one i wish i could go back and do over again. the char's get a lil OOC in this chappy, cuz i was desperate to finish the fic up. but on a better note, there's plenty of M/S intimacy! Lemon ppl, so watch out young ones! plz R&R!!
Deep in what was left of Michael's reason, he knew what Sara was doing was justified.
He was a fugitive. She worked in a prison. NOT calling the police could be deemed aiding an escaped convict.
Still, disappointment and desperation raged through him, clouding his better judgment. Images of what took place in the infirmary flashed in his mind, and he felt betrayed.
She had yet to push a button, but her finger was dangerously close.
She shook her head and tears streamed down her face in silent apology.
She dialed. He snapped.
The phone was snatched from her hand before she could blink, and tossed against a wall, where it proceeded to fall apart with a loud crack.
Michael's vision was blurry, but he saw the terror on her face as he grabbed her wrists and pulled her against him, crashing their bodies together to stare intensely into her eyes.
He didn't speak. He didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to ask her what the fuck she was thinking, and another longed to plead for forgiveness at his sudden onslaught.
Her lips formed a tight line and she closed her eyes.
Her body trembled.
She thought he was going to hurt her.
His anger disappeared immediately, and guilt slapped him in the face at the sight of her fear.
He had never acted this way towards a woman. Then again, he had never cared for a woman like he did for Sara. If he didn't care, he wouldn't have felt so betrayed.
His vice grip on her wrists loosened.
He released her and watched her eyes open cautiously.
"Sara, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I… it doesn't matter. I'm going." His voice was a shaky whisper and he raised his hands in a show of surrender, letting her know he didn't intend to touch her again.
Her breathing, which had been erratic, slowed and she gazed at the broken cell phone across the room.
She looked at him as he stood and backed away.
"Were you going to hurt me Michael?" It was more of a statement than a question. She already knew the answer.
He noted that her voice no longer held much fear…only curiosity.
He felt his teeth grit.
She made no effort to move away from him as he leaned forward to lay a hand on her cheek and look her dead in the eyes.
"I'd rather die."
For the first time since he'd arrived, Sara looked at him without anger. Her face had softened. She nodded, and he knew she believed him.
He stood and walked to her bedroom door.
Without turning, he paused.
"I'm sorry for this. If you pick up the phone the minute I leave, I'd understand. I never meant to scare you…or hurt you. I know I did Sara, when I broke out. I came here to ask you to forgive me. But it's too much to ask of you."
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed down the hall.
If this was the way it would end between them, so be it. He tried, and he'd messed it up. He hadn't felt this broken since Lincoln's conviction.
He had caused enough trouble for her. Besides that, he was certain Lincoln was losing his mind wondering where he had suddenly disappeared to. Michael hadn't told anyone where he was going. He'd simply left in the middle of the night.
He forced himself not to look back down the hallway as he neared the living room…
"Michael!"
He stopped in mid-step. He looked back to see her standing in the doorway.
His heart sounded in his ears when he saw her eye him warily and he noticed her attempt not to smile.
"You scared the shit out of me you know, sneaking into my room and sitting on my bed at two in the morning. Not to mention you destroyed my cell phone. And now you actually have the audacity to walk away without making up for it?"
He swallowed hard. He didn't think that little farewell speech would have THIS kind of a result.
A moment ago she was ready to call the cops on him, and now she was…flirting?
He would never understand what went on in a woman's head.
Must be the hormones…
Grinning, he took an experimental step in her direction.
Lincoln could wait a few more minutes…or hours…
"And what exactly did you have in mind Doc?"
If she tried to snap at him for the innuendo, he could always throw her the "you started it" line.
"Well, seeing as how my home phone is in the living room, and you're blocking access to it, I guess I can't turn you in, can I? And I'm not letting you leave until you pay for breaking in, scaring me half to death, and wrecking my property."
Her small grin clashed with the glint of uncertainty he recognized in her eyes. She was doubting this sudden turn of events, he knew. After all, she had always been a person of reason.
But she was also human. And of the opposite sex. And, according to what had taken place between them over two months ago, attracted to him. Possibly in love with him. In fact…it was more probable than possible. He hoped so, anyway.
He started slowly in her direction, backing her through the door and into the room. She continued backwards, holding his gaze, until they met the wall.
He made no move to touch her, instead reveling in the feeling that set his insides ablaze when her stare lowered to his lips.
The atmosphere in the room changed completely. Anger and frustration turned to a very familiar feeling of need almost immediately. Michael definitely preferred this to the way things had started out.
Before anything else, he wanted to rid her of that doubtful look.
Lowering his lips to her ear, he breathed against it and felt her involuntarily shudder.
"Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do, don't I?"
His grin widened to a smile when her body shivered in response.
His head traveled farther down to her shoulder, and he finally brought his hands out of his jean pockets to rest on her hips.
"I'm a convict Sara. The robbery was staged but the government still sees me as a dangerous man. Tell me to leave."
He was giving her one last chance to push him away.
He almost regretted even saying it. He didn't want her to tell him to go. He didn't want to go anywhere.
But it would be unfair to take advantage of her apparently mixed emotions without giving her a way out.
He refrained from lifting his head to look at her. Her breath was ragged and her body was stiff against his as she spoke quietly.
"I don't know, Michael. I don't know what I want. I don't want you to leave. But I don't want to be involved in…this. I don't want to lose my job. But I don't want to lose you."
He nodded against her shoulder. It was a tough choice. As tough as the one he'd made to come and see her that night. But she needed to choose.
"If you tell me to leave now, I won't see you again. You can end any involvement with me. But if you tell me to stay, I'll do everything I can to make sure no-one ever knows about it. I can't make promises on that, but I have connections. I'd try."
He listened to her sigh, and heard the thump of the back of her head against the wall as she considered his words. He waited with a born patience.
Her voice came clearer this time, making sure he could hear.
"Stay. But promise that you'll explain everything to me, and when all of this is over with, you'll contact me. I don't do one-night stands, Michael."
He smiled into the skin of her neck.
"Neither do I."
The hands resting on her hips squeezed and pulled them forward to bump against his. He relished the sound of her gasp.
He'd missed it.
Michael didn't know when he would see her again after this night.
He wanted to give her a memory worth holding onto until his return.
He hadn't expected to be doing this when he decided to visit her, but he wouldn't argue with himself…he wanted it.
He'd wanted it since he first felt her body pressed against his in Fox River.
He'd even admit that the thought had briefly flashed in his mind during the riot, when he helped down from the ducts they'd crawled through from the smoking infirmary. And that was before he realized that his feelings toward her were deep.
It had been a moment of physical attraction.
Now that it was coupled with a warm feeling that gripped his heart at the mere thought of her, he was far past simple flirtation.
And he wanted her to know it.
Any question as to whether or not they were really going to go through with this was thrown out the window when Sara pushed his shirt over his head in desperation and her lips skimmed across the skin of his throat, coming to a halt at his collarbone.
A groan vibrated in his chest when her tongue trailed along it lazily.
Michael had never seen her like this. She had been flirtatious at times during their appointments, but this was pure seduction at it's best.
A twinge of jealousy struck him as he wondered where she'd learned this type of torture.
Another deep sound from his throat-only this time more of a growl, caused her to stop and look up at him.
Her smirk told him she thought he was trying to be overdramatic. She didn't catch the look of possessiveness in his eyes.
Pressing her closer against the wall, he turned the tables on the good doctor gone-bad and took an earlobe between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to evoke a submissive whimper.
Thoughts of her touching another man still haunted his mind, although he knew it no longer mattered. She was touching HIM now. Even so, a protective urge that he had never felt before consumed him, driving him to push his hips into hers with force.
His lips lingered at her ear, and his voice came in low whisper as he spoke more to himself than to her.
"Mine."
He smiled when her head nodded lazily in response; she probably hadn't heard him at all. He had the advantage now.
The thought thrilled him in a way he'd never known before this night.
Sara definitely had the ability to do things to him that no other woman had been able to do.
Maybe he was in love with her. Chances were he was. But telling her now would be more harmful than anything. He would leave her after this night, and not return for God knew how long.
When he finally came back, if she had waited for him as she said she would, he would say it.
For now, it would remain an unspoken truth.
Their clothes were falling to the floor before he even realized it, hands roaming every square inch of the other's body the moment skin was revealed.
They stood bare in front of each other now, breaths coming quick and ragged, the intensity in the room so thick it was nearly suffocating him.
Michael had never made love to a woman against a wall before. He'd always wanted to try it when the right woman came along.
Sara fit perfectly to his body, and he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else.
His lips were pressed forcefully into hers as he made his entry, his tongue stealing its way into her mouth as she gasped.
One thrust told him she hadn't done this in some time-her gasp became a pained cry against his neck.
He stilled and brought a hand to her cheek, turning her head up to look at her.
He barely heard himself speak, his voice lost to a shortness of breath.
"You okay?"
After what seemed like minutes, she nodded. The moment her lips mouthed the words "I'm fine", he took another experimental movement in her.
Her breathing hitched, but she pushed back in encouragement, sending him falling back into his little world of indulgence.
Michael soon found that despite her rustiness in the matter, Sara wasn't the type to just stand there and take it.
Every time he moved, she responded, quickly creating a rhythm that threatened to make his mind stop working altogether.
It never occurred to him that the sounds of their passion could most likely be heard on the other side of the wall, and Sara would probably receive a complaint or two from whomever lived in the apartment adjacent to hers.
If she noticed, she really didn't care.
Michael pushed into her with blind need, feeling his knees weakening and his body shudder as his climax neared.
Sara's scream broke through the sound of his own and he barely had the strength to hold her up when her legs went out from under her.
Silence filled the room after the searing heat of their orgasm ended.
Sara wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him for support while she waited for her body to recover.
Michael placed sloppy kisses up her neck, finally reaching her mouth to claim it in a long union.
After minutes of complete stillness, he finally found his voice, and it cracked very slightly as he spoke.
"Thanks for….not calling the police…again." He smiled at her soft chuckle.
"You were blocking my way into the den, remember? And besides, I didn't want you destroying the only other phone in the house."
Exhausted laughter eased the tension before Michael looked over at the clock beside Sara's bed.
Five a.m would be drawing near soon, and he knew he needed to get back before Lincoln had a panic attack.
After handing Sara her clothes, he began redressing, the sadness of leaving her once again finally sinking in.
Watching her tie the strings of her pajama pants, he reached out to help pull the nightshirt over her head, grinning as her hair fell into her face.
Now both fully clothed, they stood in the middle of the room, caught in an embrace that marked his promise to her.
"It'll be morning soon; I gotta go."
She nodded in understanding, but said nothing. Her eyes focused away from him, until he took her face in his hands to give one last kiss before stepping out of her arms.
"I'll contact you as soon as I can, Sara. I'll see you again, I promise."
Walking to the door he paused momentarily when she quietly cleared her throat to get his attention. Turning his head to look at her, he saw her lips form a sad smile.
" I believe you, Michael. But next time, could you do me a favor? Knock."
He returned her smile and gave her a "OK" before heading out of he room, down the hall, and out the door.
He had no idea when he would see Sara again. It could be weeks, months, maybe years. He hadn't wanted to ask her to wait for him. But he had. And she'd agreed.
All he could do was keep his promise to come back, and see for himself if she kept hers to wait.