Characters: Michael and Lincoln (Gen, Crack, Humor, All-Dialogue)
Summary: AU Season 4 crack, which might be indistinguishable from the show at this point…
Warnings: Spoilers up through the S4 premiere. Also? Beverage Alerttm.
Author's Notes: An early birthday present for badboy_fangirl—hope you like it!
Also for prisonbreak100, this is "Hide."
"What the hell are you doing, Michael?"
"What does it look like? I'm working up a new disguise. And hand me that skirt."
"You cannot dress up as a woman."
"Yeah? Watch me."
"You have no hair, Michael."
"That's what wigs are for."
"Oh, come on. Remember your baseball cap? We got ID'd within a week."
"Well maybe if you'd made any kind of effort, we'd be rolling around in Westmoreland's money right now instead of hiding from the cops!"
"Still bitter, I see."
"Several million dollars bitter, to be exact. Not to mention doing time in Panama. Central American prison, Lincoln—you have no idea what that was like."
"I guess I don't. But do you really see this working? I mean, you're six feet tall, Michael!"
"So I'll wear flats. We went through all this before, back at Fox River, and look how great it turned out. So have a little faith instead of being such a party-pooper. Again."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Show a little enthusiasm, help a little even."
"I was on Death Row, Michael."
"Yeah, yeah—all I remember is you rubbing your head and moping around all the time, while I worked my butt off to spring you out of there."
"You're growling. I don’t see how that's helping, Lincoln. Now, do you have something different to put on? Because we're in a hurry, and you still look exactly like you."
"How much of a hurry—when were you planning to leave?"
"Five minutes. I want to be out of this country by nightfall. We've got a new set of fake passports, and there's a fresh set of wheels waiting around the corner."
"What about Sara?"
"Forget Sara—I'm tired of being jerked around. First she's dead, then she's not dead. The woman cannot commit."
"I hardly think that was her fault, Michael."
"Whatever. She's baggage, and we're on a short schedule. She can get on with her life, and work through her problems on her own time."
"So not the time to be discussing this, Lincoln. Now throw your junk in a bag, so we can clear out of here."
"All right, all right. Though I'm definitely taking the booze—I can see I'm going to need it. Wait, is that lipstick?"
"Passionate pink. Goes with the hair."
"Okay, finished. Grab that duffel there, and I'll meet you downstairs. Let me just—wait, what the—oh my God… Does this skirt make my butt look big?"
"Oh yeah. Like a Buick."
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