Ok, so I've read a bunch of fics where, at the end of episode 2.11 "Hot Spot", Michael is sad about Fiona being in the fire, blah, blah, blah. And I notice that there were none in Fiona's pov. So I decided to write what I think could've been going through Fiona Glenanne's head, when she was caught in the fire at Michael's bomber's house. Enjoy!
I had just hung up from my call with Michael when I went to explore the bomber's house. I was only a few feet in when I stepped on the contact plate and the entire house burst into flames. This was one of the few times in my life that I was truly frightened of what would happen to me. I knew that Michael would have a hard time coping with my death, no matter how solid a front he put up to Sam or his mom. I knew Sam and Madeline could break it down. Especially if they worked together on it.
Then, at one of the windows, there was a burnout. I got out through the window just as the fire department was arriving. I ran away from the house, needing to find somewhere safe to go.
An hour or so later, the sun was setting, the rain started, and I was finally somewhere safe. Michael's loft. I had always felt safe there.
Minutes later, I heard the gate open, the charger come closer to the building, and the charger's door shut. Then came the light footsteps of Michael, coming up the stairs to get into his loft.
I heard and saw the door open within seconds of one another. Michael came through; looking like someone had just killed his brand new puppy.
After he shut the door, and hit it, I knew I had to alert him of my presence.
"There you are," I said. "You've got to get a landline in here."
He just stared at me, as if I was a ghost, or just a figment of his imagination.
"Poole rigged his place to burst into flames. No surprise, but I let my curiosity get away with me. I waited for a burnout in one of the windows, and now I need a new cell phone."
He was coming closer and closer, did he really think that a fire could take me out? Contrary to what I was thinking while I was in the fire.
"Michael. You didn't think that-"
He put his right hand on my cheek, moved it through my hair, and onto my neck. Then he did the same thing with his left hand. All while staring at me. I couldn't do anything. All I was thinking of was what was he going to do to me.
We put our foreheads together, and he gave me a chaste kiss. He pulled back, looked back into my eyes, then kissed me longer, and held me tighter than he ever had before.
A few hours later, I woke up, just the tiniest sore. I heard Michael shuffling around, most likely looking for clothes. I swear, sometimes he is just more picky about his clothes than I am about mine. I heard him walk out the door, close, lock, the whole shebang.
A few minutes later, I got up, got dressed, and left. But as I was leaving, Carla was coming up the stairs.
"Oh Fiona. How nice to see you," Carla said in the fake, charmy voice she always uses on Michael to get him to do her bidding.
"Oh Carla. It's been nice to see you, but I must get going. Good bye." Bitch. I responded in an equally fake voice.
I left through the gates and walked back to my apartment where I took a shower, got some food, and then crawled back into bed, just wanting to sleep and forget about what had transpired between Michael and me the night before.
A/n: Was it good? Let me know. Reviews keep us authors going, or at least some of us.