Fiona once said that caring for me was like trench warfare. Caring for her is more like an all out firefight. Dangerous, unpredictable, and it isn't over until one or both of you end up dead. Most of the time, the best thing to do is duck, run for cover, and try to survive in some way or another.

The hard part about being in my line of work is that there is no middle-of-the-road. Everything is all or nothing. For example, when you're in a combat situation it's kill or get killed. You can't sort of shoot someone or kind of stop breathing. You have to give it all. Sometimes, you don't want to. If you don't, you're going to end up putting people in body bags or you're going to find yourself in one.

When you're in a delicate situation depending on keeping your cover, you can't let your personal feelings blow it. Once it's blown, it's blown. You might have to do something you don't want to in order to keep the operation going. As much as it may hurt, you can always lick your wounds later. The mission you're involved in usually doesn't have the luxury of time or second chances.

The signs of fear are easy to pick up on. You don't have to be a spy to recognize when someone is absolutely petrified. Everyone gets scared. We all have a monster under the bed or an evil clown waiting to pop out from behind the shower curtain. Of course, our fears change with age. They get more unpleasant and even more terrifying as you get older. It's just another great thing to look forward to like wrinkles, dentures, aches and pains, and bingo.

I'm a big bad spy. I've been all around the world and been in all kinds of unpleasant and dangerous situations. Just because I have training, faced more than the average person, and deal with that sort of thing on a daily basis, doesn't mean that I don't get scared. When it comes down to it, I'm still just a human being. People forget that. Half the time, I do too.

I was scared. I was more than scared. I don't like to admit that I can be afraid sometimes. It doesn't go with my big bad spy image, so usually I keep the fear to a minimum. I get scared when Mom's in danger. I get scared when Nate's in danger or when Nate asks for money again. I got scared when Sam was taken, but I knew it would all work out. This was worse than all of that. This was Fi. This was Fi spending time with a seemingly innocent woman who was actually a psychopath. This was Fi isn't picking up her phone.

I was having flashbacks to a burning building and no Fi. She wasn't picking up her phone then either. She was okay, but I thought that she was dead. It was happening all over again. The thought kept replaying in my mind when we got out of the car and started inside. It's all I could think about.

She was okay again. Still, the seemingly innocent psychopath was out of her cuffs. The same seemingly innocent psychopath was the key to our whole operation. We couldn't blow it. She couldn't see that I was scared, she couldn't see that we knew, and she had to think that we didn't know anything. To hide emotion, you have to cover it up with another one. Anger was the only option. I thought about others, but it wouldn't work. Anger causes fear. Fear in the psychopath was good. Fear in me was bad.

If I could have done anything different, I would have. There is no middle-of-the-road. All or nothing. If I didn't, Fi could have been killed. When you're a spy, you have to do a lot of things you don't want to do. You do them anyway because it's the only thing you can do.

I hit her.

I hit her.

I think that I hurt myself more than I hurt her. It took every bit of my training to hold it together, to go on with the show, to not hold her and make it all better. Instead, we tossed the woman into the room and shut the door. It wasn't three seconds later when I cupped her face and said the same thing at least five times.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She looked back at me with glossy eyes. It was the worst thing I could have done. She knew I had to after I explained, but that didn't make her okay with it. It hurt to see her hurt. It hurt worse when she pulled away from me. It was hit her or lose her and the operation.

We wrapped up things for Barry without really talking. She came into the loft before the Stickler business. I don't like working with him, she doesn't like me working with him. I knew that this would be the conversation. I didn't know that I'd be wrong. I didn't know that she'd say that she'd leave Miami. And I didn't know that she'd walk away.

"Fi? Fi? Fiona!"

She didn't listen. She didn't look back. She left.

I should have known she'd walk away sooner or later. She does so much for me and I never did anything except hurt her. It isn't the same without her here. I've said it before, I'll say it again. She's the only one for me. She'll always be the only one.

Now that she's called a ceasefire, I miss the bullets.

I miss her.