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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 4, 2010 14:19:53 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] Kellerman had hoped that things would have been long over by now. After all, not even a genius architect could outsmart the company, could he? But they had underestimated Michael and his willingness to do whatever it took to save his brother’s life. And now they were out of jail, thanks to Dr. Tancredi. Since the brothers couldn’t be found, it was perfectly logical to get whatever information they could out of Sara, and of course the only agent they had trusted with the job had been Kellerman.
So, here Kellerman was, stepping inside a church to go to some addicts meeting. He had already gone to several before, just quietly spying on Sara without actually ever having talked to her yet. But things were moving so fast right now that today he would have to. They couldn’t afford to wait any longer. His eyes scanned the various people that were already seated until they landed on her familiar red hair, and it was just his luck that the pew behind hers was completely empty.
He was a man on a mission as he walked down the aisle and slid into the pew, positioning himself right behind Sara. But unfortunately (or fortunately) for him all of the talking had to come first. People were going to get up on the altar and be all ‘Hi, I’m [insert name here], and I’m addicted to [insert substance here]’ and then give their sad stories. But all of that meant that Kellerman would just have more time to concoct up his own little story that he would be sharing just with Sara, and if he had any luck, maybe she would get up there to speak, revealing things to him that he could use against her. Kellerman was always thinking. He leaned back in the pew, folding his arms across his chest. The leader of the group got up onto the altar and made all of the proper announcements and then began the long procession of people who felt they needed to share all the details of their lives to a group of complete strangers.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 352
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 4, 2010 14:40:51 GMT -5
 Sara had done this dance before. The only difference was she was not at risk for spending a great deal of time in prison, not had she helped eight men escape from person, three of which were murderers. She had made poor decisions in her life before, and while she could not regret the decision that made her reach where she was right now . . . she took responsibility for it and accepted that she had not been clean. That she may forever be a junkie and that if her body took another massive dose of morphine, she would not be lucky enough to survive the next time. As she sat in a pew in the Church at yet another AA meeting, her mind was flooded with different thoughts, none of which were focused on the senior, scruffy man sharing his story to a group of strangers.
Sara was looking at the ground, trying to understand Michael's note and trying to come to terms with everything that happened. Her anger, frustration, hurt, bitterness, everything was too great and sitting here talking about it, she knew was not going to make her feel any better. Of course there was nothing she could do. She had to get clean, and wanted to make sure it lasted this time. Why had she woken from her coma? Because . . . she did not want to die. A rather contradicting statement considering she had over dosed. No one would believe her, because everything they needed to know was in the media, and that was what people believed. They would not believe a naiive young prison doctor who left the door open for a man she loved. There was no much more than that. But no one asked beyond this title and label she had been given. No one cared . . . not even her own father.
When the man was done his story, Sara pulled herself from her thoughts and put her hands together, clapping with the rest of the group. As the mediator told everyone that they were out of time, unless someone had anything they would like to add . . . Sara was already reaching for her purse.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 4, 2010 15:36:04 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] Would this meeting never end? It seemed like everyone who stepped up to talk had the same story: I’m addicted to drugs or alcohol because of either love troubles, financial troubles, or family troubles. Kellerman might have had a little bit more sympathy for the people if he had ever experienced any of that himself. Well, technically speaking, he had suffered through some love troubles with Caroline Reynolds. Then again, Kellerman tried not to let himself get too attached to anyone because of all of the pain a simple human being could cause you. Kellerman joined in on the applause after each person spoke, if only half-heartedly. Finally the mediator was getting up to give the short and sweet conclusion to the meeting. It was too bad that Sara had decided not to talk today. It could have made things so much easier for Kellerman. Luckily, though, he happened to be an expert at putting on a show.
And it looked like that show needed to get started now because Sara was leaning over to get her purse. She seemed like she was in a rush to get out of there…Maybe she had a rendezvous with Michael to get to. Or maybe she was just as anxious as he was to get out of this stuffy church and out into some fresh air. Kellerman figured that the latter was the more likely because Michael wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t going to be making any meetings with Sara any time soon. He loved her too much to put her in that unnecessary danger. But isn’t that exactly what he had done to her when he told her to leave the door unlocked? Surely Michael knew there was no way he could keep Sara out of harm’s way in all this aftermath of the escape. If he had than Michael wasn’t as smart as everyone thought he was.
But there wasn’t any time to ponder those thoughts right now. Kellerman leaned forward, clasping his fingers together as he threw his arms over the back of Sara’s pew. “You’re Sara, right?” he politely enquired, putting on the most realistic smile he could muster up.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 361
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 4, 2010 23:28:03 GMT -5
Sara's anti social behavior made herself a little annoyed at the question. Did he know who she was, and he was going to just to question her just like the reporters and federal agents? Or was he just a fellow addict who wanted to make friends? Either way, Sara did not feel like talking. Though, she also did not want to be extremely rude by just ignoring him. And so, with that politeness she could not ignore, she turned her head and looked at him while she put the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "Right," she answered simply. She looked at him, knowing that he looked familiar. He had been in a few of her meetings. She was trying to remember her name, and felt a little guilty when she could not.
"I'm sorry . . . what was your name?" She was not shy to ask. After all, it was an anonymous group so names was one thing that people tended to keep to themselves if they were ashamed of their addictions . . . which majority of the people were. She gave him a small smile, though it was not really a happy one. She was trying to hide all her negative emotions and not take it out on people who had nothing to do with the chaos in her life right now.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 5, 2010 15:11:56 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] This was exactly why Kellerman had opted to go with the more kind, ‘befriend the victim’ first route, instead of the ‘I’ll chase you through the streets with my gun until I finally capture you’ route. If he had tried the latter tactic and had succeeded in capturing her he would have gotten little to nothing out of her. Trying to befriend her, on the other hand, meant that maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get a little something out of her before he even had to reveal his true self to her. But things rarely went according to plan, so Kellerman already had plenty of backup plans in mind.
Kellerman leaned back a bit, giving Sara some more space, in the hopes that that would make her a bit more comfortable. “I’m Lance,” he said, not having to take a single to pause and think about what alias he was going to use because he had already thought of one before stepping foot in the church. “Hang on, let me do this the right way…Hi, I’m Lance, and I’m an addict,” he chuckled. “But I also happen to be an addict that makes a mean blueberry pie, and you look like you could use some blueberry pie in your life.” He didn’t think that anyone who saw Sara at the meetings didn’t know that something was troubling the woman. He just happened to be the only one who really knew what was troubling her.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 248
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 5, 2010 15:22:46 GMT -5
Sara smiled at his sense of humor. "Well it's nice to meet you Lance," she said, remaining polite, but a little uninterested at the company. And even more so when he offered to make her a blueberry pie. That frustrated her. She was not here to make friends . . . or to be propositioned. "I um . . . " Well this was a bit of an awkward situation. She did not want to sound overly rude, but she really did not want to accept whatever he had in mind, and give him the wrong idea by saying that she was in fact interested. After all, the last man who had asked her on a date had ulterior motives and not the kind that one would assume. Trust in a stranger was something Sara was not going to do again . . . she learned from her mistakes, or so she liked to believe.
"I really shouldn't be seeing anyone besides my therapist right now," she told him, plainly and simply. It was the best way she could put it. She was too tired to think of an excuse or a polite rejection, so she was going to take the honest route and be very blunt about it. She stood up, adjusting her purse and avoiding eye contact with him, for she was feeling a bit awkward at the moment.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 5, 2010 17:52:18 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] Kellerman watched her get up. While she wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. But he wasn’t worried about her walking out on him just yet. She didn’t want any company tonight….or rather she didn’t want the kind of company that she thought he was offering her. It actually was kind of funny. He hadn’t realized how his offer for a pie could be construed differently. Kellerman let out a genuine laugh. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to imply…I…I meant an actual blueberry pie.” Time to delve deeper into his Lance persona and get her to agree to come over to his home, which coincidentally was under one of his other aliases (Owen Kravecki). “I’ve been a hermit lately too,” he said with a small sigh, “My partner Daniel’s away on business. I’ve been sitting around every night by myself. Kind of pathetic,” he chuckled. Women trusted homosexual males—the only men in the world who couldn’t break their fragile hearts.
He finally stood up himself. “But if you don’t want to be seeing anyone in any type of context other than your therapist, that’s fine with me. Have a good night, Sara. I’ll see you around.” Kellerman made his way out of the pew and very slowly began walking towards the exit. If she didn’t take him up on this offer, he could always revert to other more true and tried methods.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 237
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 5, 2010 23:16:09 GMT -5
Partner? As in . . . . . . . OH! Realization hit her and she felt rather embarrassed that she had misinterpreted his intentions. Instead of just leaving, she looked at him, smiling and nearly laughing at herself . . . that is what she gets for jumping to conclusions. "I'm sorry, I thought you . . . I thought you meant something else um . . . " She watched him begin to leave, and felt bad that she had just leaped to the conclusion that his question had meant a date. "I actually need to clean my apartment tonight . . . " That sounded like a horrible excuse, even though it was true. "I know that sounds like an excuse, its not, I'm sorry." She wasn't doing a very good job of redeeming herself.
She stood there silently, taking a deep breath. She knew that recovery included many things, and maybe spending time with someone who had nothing to do with Fox River would be good for her. "Do you deliver?" She asked. Part of the reason that she wanted it to be at her place, was so that she would feel more comfortable . . . so that it would be at her house, and not a stranger's and maybe that would ease some of her insecurity. "I promise I won't make you help me clean it," she said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 6, 2010 14:52:43 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] He gave her a small smile and a slight chuckle as she came to the realization that he was ‘gay’ and was just looking for some friendly, non-intimate company tonight. “No need to apologize,” he said. “I should have been more careful with how I worded things.” With people these days anything could be misconstrued as some kind of sexual innuendo. It was sad when you really thought about it. Then, he had gotten up to leave, and when she started talking again, he stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her. “It’s fine, Sara,” he replied, adopting a ‘It’s really okay’ tone. "But I’m calling for a rain check because you haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my pie. Take care.” Kellerman turned back around and began his slow journey out of the church again, knowing full well that it was only going to be a matter of time before she changed her mind.
A small smile—the smile that comes from the feeling of accomplishment—spread across his face as what he knew was going to happen happened. He wiped that smile off of his face before once again turning to face her. “You’re in luck because this ex-junkie is willing to travel across the country if only to have someone to talk to tonight. See? I told you I was pathetic.” Kellerman laughed at her attempt at a joke. “Good, because every time I try to clean our house it seems to end up messier than before I started.”
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 253
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 6, 2010 19:44:02 GMT -5
Sara smiled in return at his acceptance of her invitation. "Not pathetic . . . I get that sometimes its um, hard to be around people when you feel like everyone's judging you." She knew how that felt; it was how any recovering addict felt. It was shame and humiliation. Which was why perhaps it would be nice to socialize with someone who was in the same position as her . . . well, obviously not exactly the same, but the commonality of being in AA. "Well in that case, I'll have to insist that you definitely don't help me clean," she added jokingly. "Oh, here's um," she dug around in her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling her address on it. "Here . . . just come by any time." She couldn't believe she was inviting him over; it was innocent enough, and maybe she wanted some company as well . . . company apart from reporters, lawyers, and politicians. "Do you want me to pick up any ingredients or anything?" She offered, handing him the piece of paper.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 8, 2010 9:10:49 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] Things were running much more smoothly now. It was almost too perfect and too easy. Kellerman took the piece of paper from her and stuffed it safely into his jeans pocket. “I have everything I need, but thanks for the offer,” he lied. He knew next to nothing about cooking but, thankfully, he had connections—someone he could call and get on the making a blueberry pie thing. “I will see you later then. Have a good afternoon, Sara.” With those words said, Kellerman made his way once and for all out of the church.
Later that evening…
After making the necessary call to his friend and picking up the blueberry pie and some Chinese food for dinner, Kellerman drove over to the address that Sara had given him. With his bags in hand, he found her apartment door and gave it a few solid knocks. He was about to step into Sara’s home, something he thought wasn’t going to be happening having originally thought that she’d be coming over to his house. Hopefully there’d be some point in time where he was left alone and could so some snooping around. Maybe he’d find some clues to Michael’s whereabouts or at least find out that Michael had been in contact with Sara.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 212
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 8, 2010 10:40:39 GMT -5
Sara quickly went homing, knowing that she would have to do a quickly clean up if she was going to have company over tonight. When she got there, she quickly scanned through her mail . . . finding one envelope in particular that raised enough curiosity in her for to open it right away. It was a paper crane. Another one, similar to the one she had found in her purse, except in stead of text . . . there were numbers on this one. She began dialing them, only to hear a voice on the other end saying that the number was disconnected. What did these numbers mean? What was he trying to tell her? She didn't know if she wanted to figure it out . . . so for the time being, she just tucked it under the rest of her mail and tried to push it to the back of her head. She couldn't deal with that right now; she had enough things to worry about.
She quickly picked up her clothes and things, putting them in her bedroom -- since that was one room they were not going to go in -- . She spent a few more minutes picking up some dishes in the kitchen. She had barley had any time to clean the place up and so it really was a horrible mess. When she heard the knock on the door, she looked around . . . .thinking it looked semi decent enough to invite a guest into. She went and opened the door, smiling when she saw Lance standing there. "Hey," she greeted, taking one of the bags from him. "So I tried to clean it, but its still a bit of mess, so you'll have to excuse that," she said, a little embarrassed that it was so disorganized.
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Post by Paul Kellerman on Apr 18, 2010 17:15:51 GMT -5
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] the countdown begins to destroy ourselves
WHO'S GOING TO FIGHT FOR WHAT'S RIGHT? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b]
[/size] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color] a hero's not afraid to give his life
A HERO'S GOING TO SAVE ME JUST IN TIME? [/font] - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - [/font][/size][/color][/b] “You apologize way too much, Sara,” he said, gladly giving up one of the bags to her. “Your place looks like the quarantine ward of a hospital compared to my home.” And he was actually kind of telling the truth about that. Hey, it wasn’t his fault that Owen Kravecki sold jerky and that he had hundreds of packages of jerky lying all over the place as a result. Kellerman stepped inside. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought dinner.” He held up the other bags he was holding. Please say, ‘I’ll go to take care of it,’ so he could get a good look around the room without her being present thinking he was some kind of creepy. Then again, couldn’t he pretend that he was just very interested in interior design? He was ‘gay,’ wasn’t he?
Regardless of whether or not Sara was going to leave, he still needed to get his bearing straight just in case he got the opportunity that he needed to look through some of her things. His eyes were almost immediately drawn to the mail lying on one of the tables by a chair. Would Scofield send her something in the mail? Probably because nobody ever used snail mail these days anyways. Scofield would have to know that her email and phone calls would be monitored. That left the good, ole regular mail to contact her through.
who is in the thread ?!:TAGGED: Sara
how many !?:WORDS: 235
music and notes here !?:MUSE: =)
hero by skillet !?:LYRICS:
earl of HORROR SHOW! :CREDITS:[/size][/font] |
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Post by Sara Tancredi on Apr 19, 2010 9:57:53 GMT -5
Sara gave a small laugh. "Thanks. I haven't had company over in a while actually." With work, she had been too busy, and now . . . when she came home after meetings and what not, she just wanted to be by herself. But maybe this would be different. Lance seemed friendly enough. Then again, last time she trusted her judgment . . . she helped eight men escape from prison. But she wasn't going to think about that right now. "I don't mind at all. Thats actually a huge relief because uh . . . I wasn't exactly sure what to make for dinner," she admitted. "Here, I'll take the bags to the kitchen," she said, taking the other one from him. "Make yourself at home," she told him motioning towards the living room before going to the kitchen to start to unload the bags.
"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" She asked from the kitchen -- since both rooms weren't that far apart, and were only separated by doors which were currently open. She began to take out each ingredient, not taking long to figure out what they could make with what he had brought. Chicken Pad Thai.
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