Because there is nowhere near enough Burn Notice fanfic around to satisfy cravings, I was forced to go forth and write some. It was a great burden.
This story came from the contemplation of what exactly it would take to really shock Michael Western. It proceeded to take on a life of its own.
'You're what?' asked Michael, looking dumbfounded.
Fiona calmly repeated herself.
Michael blinked twice. 'But how?'
'The usual way, Michael. I believe you were there at the time.' She seemed far too composed under the circumstances.
'I thought you were on birth control.' Michael's thoughts were whirling. The implications were just too much to consider.
'I was,' Fiona informed him dryly. 'The pharmacy screwed up.'
Michael sat down rather heavily on the stool behind him and stared blankly at her for several seconds. Fi returned the stare coolly.
'Um,' he said after a moment. 'So, are you gonna… what are you going to do?'
'I'm keeping it,' she told him curtly.
Michael drew his eyes back up to her face. His thoughts had wondered for a second and his eyes had gone straight to her innocuously flat belly. 'You are?' he tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but obviously failed when she narrowed her eyes at him.
'Yes. I am.' With a small 'hmpf' she turned on her heel and flounced out of the still open door. Michael blinked twice. He knew he should follow her, talk to her, but… Revelations like that needed a little time to sink in.
'Fi, are you sure you should be carrying that?' Michael followed her carefully, wary lest she whip around and slap him.
'It's a rifle,' Fiona told him in exasperation. 'It's not that heavy. Women don't become instantly useless when they fall pregnant Michael.'
'I know, I know! It's just…' Michael tried to think of a safe way to phrase the words, then gave up and settled for trailing after her in silence. What could he say? That he was uneasy with her doing dangerous stuff like this now? That he'd rather she stayed at home? She'd either punch him, or point out the risk of this mission without backup. He didn't have an answer for either.
When they made it back to the loft five hours later, they both reeked of smoke and there was a trickle of blood tracking down Fiona's forehead.
'Sit,' ordered Michael, pointing to the bed.
Fi rolled her eyes but did at she was told. 'You worry too much,' she informed him wryly.
'Better than not enough,' returned Michael as he retrieved the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink. He sat on the bed next to her and carefully drew back her hair to reveal the small cut on her scalp.
'Will I live?' asked Fi dryly.
Michael didn't bother to respond to the baiting, concentrating instead on swabbing the wound clean and putting a steri-strip across it. When he was done he sat looking into her eyes, heart palpitating uncomfortably. 'Fi… do you think maybe, for me, that you could ease off on the thrill seeking til this baby's born? I know we're not together, but it's my baby too...'
Fi met his eyes in silence for a long moment before answering, so he could tell she was seriously thinking about his request. 'I'll do my best,' she promised him.
'Hey Mikey, wait til you see what I got on-' Sam's loud opening was cut abruptly short as he entered the loft and saw Michael's shushing gestures. He raised an eyebrow questioningly until he caught sight of Fiona, who was napping on Michael's bed.
'She claims pregnancy is exhausting,' Michael explained softly. He was sitting at the bench, working on jury-rigging a mobile phone into a bug.
Sam blinked twice, amusement evident on his face. 'Whatever you say, Mikey,' he agreed in a quieter voice, heading towards the fridge to help himself to a beer. 'You told your mother she's going to be a grandma?'
'I think she knew before I did,' Michael informed him ruefully. 'Don't ask me how, but she certainly wasn't surprised when I told her.'
'Bet she's over the moon, huh?'
Michael nodded and bent his head to his project, declining to comment any further on the issue. His mom had made no secret of the fact she wanted him to have a family. She was almost crowing with happiness about it.
Fiona was nearly two months pregnant now, although it had yet to show. In truth, she was doing more than just napping at Michael's place. In one of those spontaneous decisions of hers, she had declared that she couldn't sleep at her place and so was moving in. Bemused, Michael had just shrugged and stocked up on yoghurt. In truth, he quite liked sharing his bed with Fiona. She was incongruously cuddly when she slept and there was something very pleasant about waking up with a warm body draped across him. That was, until the morning sickness started.
Michael groggily blinked awake when Fiona detangled herself and slipped out of bed. He raised his head to watch her dash across the loft and into the bathroom. Shortly afterwards came the audible evidences of illness so he heaved himself up and followed her.
Fiona was hunched over the toilet bowl, retching. Michael sighed and knelt down next to her so he could sweep her hair out of the way. 'This is all your fault you know,' she informed him curtly between heaves.
'I know,' he agreed placatingly, rubbing soothing circles on her back. He cooked her breakfast to make up for it, and drove her to her first doctor's appointment.
Michael was panting as he staggered awkwardly up the steps, Fiona carried across his chest. She was five months pregnant now, and not exactly light. They made it to the top of the bridge without incident and he lowered her to the ground so he could pull his gun and turn on their pursuers.
'Such a gentleman,' she taunted him softly, standing on one foot and leaning on the bridge railing. Her sprained ankle had necessitated the carrying.
'Shh, Fi,' Michael hissed, not looking back at her. He was waiting for the first guy to poke his head around the corner and give him a target. Fi rolled her eyes and wished she'd managed to hold onto her gun.
'You know, Michael, you've been awfully protective since this whole thing started.'
Michael's shoulders froze for a moment, before he transferred his attention back to the top of the stairs. 'Just keeping you safe,' he muttered.
'Me and junior,' she corrected.
'Can we talk about this later, Fi?' Michael asked tersely.
'Oh we will,' she agreed.
Later came when he was wrapping her swollen ankle on the bed in the loft. She cocked her head on one side and fixed him with that look that he knew meant trouble.
'What is it?' he asked wearily.
'I just never had you pegged as the fatherly type, Michael.'
'Who said I was?'
'All this guarding and carrying? I'm starting to think that maybe you want this baby as much as I do.' She said it lightly but she was watching him closely for his reaction.
Typically, Michael's face was absolutely unreadable, but he answered her as truthfully as he could. 'I never said I didn't, Fi. I didn't have the greatest role-model for a dad but I realised when you told me you were pregnant that having kids… it might not be so bad. Even if we're not doing it in the usual way.'
'The usual way?' repeated Fiona.
Michael sighed. He really wasn't good with relationship talks. 'Having a baby when we're not even together,' he clarified.
Fiona gave an enigmatic smile then flopped back on the bed and clicked her fingers. 'Bring some ice,' she demanded. The talk was clearly over. Michael snorted softly in bemusement and rose to do her bidding.
One more chapter. Also a sequel in production that may or may not be posted depending on how shy I get about it. (Sometimes my mind yells at me for having the audacity to put this stuff where people can see it). Uh... do people like it?