His eyelashes fascinate her. Their dark length and gentle curve. Sara's a little jealous, because maybe he was born with it, but she needs Maybelline. The way they brush the faded freckles on his cheek when his eyes are hooded. What would they feel like against her lips if she was allowed to kiss them. If he let her get that close (he wouldn't – won't).
Michael looks up and shares his dimpled smile with her. Sara smiles back. She loves him and no one else. She just... It's just something she wonders about, is all. Something she found to love in someone she's never even going to like.
Would they be sensual or would they tickle? Reduce her to a satisfied smile or a giggling grin?
He's aware of her, standing there, watching him. It wouldn't be the first time she's had a problem with him since he forced his way onto Self's A-Team, so Kellerman wishes she would just come out and tell him to his face – tell her fearless-leader boyfriend if she doesn't want to deal with him. Instead, she's always staring. It's starting to piss him off. What? What more does she want from him?
He confronts her with his gaze and she pretends to be interested in something that Bellick is doing; looks away so that he doesn't see her cheeks colored with self-consciousness.
As soon as Kellerman returns his attention to Michael and the blueprints, Sara steals another glance. And she thinks, not for the last time, either, about those beautiful, thick, dark, long, gorgeous, perfect eyelashes and what they'd feel like fluttering against her skin.
They're just butterfly kisses, she tells herself. They're not even real...kisses.
This is never going to be real.
It's only a fantasy.