"I love this part of town," she sighed contentedly.

"It is nice," he agreed in his thick Irish brogue.

"You don't have to keep up the accent, Michael. It's the middle of the night, or mornin' dependin' on how you look at it. We're the only ones out and about."

"I know, Fi. It's a matter of security."

"Who's going to hear you? I could shout at the top of my lungs and no one would take notice. No need to be jumpy, Mr. McBride. Your secret is safe with me. The stars and I won't tell anyone."

He looked up at the thick, black curtain above them. "You do know that you can't see any stars tonight, right?"

She grasped the front of his overcoat with both hands and a smirk. "You aren't getting into the spirit of things. Tonight, right now, there's no mayhem, no chaos, no one sneakin' around tryin' to kill us. It's just you and me."

He smiled and snaked his arms around her. "I think I am getting into the spirit of things," he whispered.

"I like it when you're you."

"So do I."

"We should hurry before people start wakin' up."

She linked arms with him and they resumed their stroll down Dawson Street. He was glad that she stayed close. Cold weather was never a friend of his. Besides, Fi was better than any coat could ever be.

"There's something you need to learn about Ireland, Michael. You may not see the stars in the sky, but they're always there. There's no such thing as a starless night. Not for you and me."

"Feeling poetic tonight?"

"You know that a good explosion always make me happy."

"Any explosion makes you happy."

"I'm smilin' just thinkin' about it."

They passed the café where they sometimes ate or met after a job. The street lights were off at this time of night, or morning. He wasn't really sure how late it was. He only knew that they had the entire street to themselves.

She abruptly stopped by a crosswalk, sending him head first towards the pavement. She caught him without a second glance.

"There's Saint Anne's Church. It reminds me of Versailles. I visited it once when I was in Paris. That was a good time. I would have stayed longer, but the authorities would have found me by then."

"Sounds like you miss it."

"I do, even though I didn't want to go there in the first place. I had just purchased a few illegal items from a friend of a friend. As it turned out, the cops were tracking him. I had to take my things and split. I hopped on the nearest train and wound up at the Palace of Versailles. The place was big enough to get lost in. So I got lost. I had a great time and got away with my weapons."

He suppressed a laugh. Of course that would be the reason she would visit a landmark. "I'm glad to hear it."

"You know, this could be our own Versailles," she suggested. "Somewhere to get lost in."

He looked at the church. "I don't think it's big enough for that."

"We don't need a church. Besides, I don't mean literally getting lost. There are more than one meaning of the word."

He gently put a hand on her face. "I think I know the one you're talking about."

"I would hope so. After all of this time, you've had to have learned more from me than a few recipes for homemade C4."

A grin tugged at the sides of his mouth. "Much more."

She smiled back, but it was quickly covered as he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer if at all possible.

At that very moment, the street came to life. All of the street lights flickered on and the traffic signals returned to their usual reds, yellows, and greens. They pulled apart and gazed up at the bright lights above them.

"Looks like it's gettin' early," she commented quietly.

"If we hurry, we might be able to get some sleep before tomorrow's meeting."

"I'm not in the sleepin' kind of mood. I'd rather stay up with Michael Westen before he turns back into McBride."

"Are you sayin' that ya don't like Mr. McBride?" he asked with a mock frown.

"I love him very much, but I get to see him all of the time. Sometimes I feel like I don't know Michael Westen."

"You know him more than anyone does, Fi."

Her smile returned and they continued their walk down the street, arm in arm before the night would end.

Based on the song, "Our own Versailles" by Galt Aureus. I'm not sure if the timeline is right or anything, but I heard the song and had to write this. Thanks for reading.