Fiona unlocked Michael's door and flung it open, freezing at the sight in front of her. She winced at the overly loud bang the door made when it hit the wall and grabbed it quickly, slowly shutting it behind her, her wince increasing as it squeaked in protest. Once it was shut and locked, Fiona turned around again and was glad to see she hadn't disturbed the couple on Michael's mattress.
Smiling to herself, Fiona walked closer, heart melting. Michael was fast asleep, thank heavens; he'd been burning the candle at both ends for way too long. He had his arms wrapped protectively around the girl in bed with him. She was fast asleep as well, head resting on Michael's chest and curled into his side, sucking her thumb steadily.
This little girl had been through a lot lately. Michael, Sam and Fiona had just recently saved her life. They hadn't been able to save her parents' lives, however. Until they figured out what to do with the child, she was staying with whoever wasn't busy. Michael had quickly become protective of the girl and insisted on having her stay at his place as often as possible.
As quietly as she could manage, Fiona walked to the fridge, grabbed a yogurt and spoon, and sat on a stool to watch. Michael would make a fantastic father, she decided. That was, if he wasn't running around shooting things and constantly in danger. Statistics would say that he would turn out just like his own father, but Fiona knew they were wrong. Because of Frank Westen, Michael would rather die than hurt a child.
The young girl sighed in her sleep, snuggling deeper into Michael's side. Fiona smiled again. Aria was the little girl's name. She was eleven years old and her name fit her perfectly. Aria was short for her age, but not short in personality or passion. In a way, Aria reminded Fiona of herself when she'd been that age. Except tragedy hadn't hit Fiona until she was much older than eleven.
A slight groan escaped from Michael's lips and he stirred, eyelids fluttering open. He didn't notice Fiona at first, his eyes focusing immediately on Aria. He pressed his lips against her auburn hair, eyes closing reverently. He let his head fall back on the pillow, rubbing Aria's arm gently before he suddenly realized he and Aria weren't alone.
"Fi!" he exclaimed in a whisper. Fiona smiled, waggling her fingers at him in greeting. Cautiously, Michael sat up, moving Aria's head to his lap as to not disturb her sleep. Fiona set her yogurt and spoon down and walked over to sit on the edge of the mattress.
"You're adorable," she whispered, grinning. Michael's immediate reaction was a glare but his ears went pink and he looked away, focusing in on the child in his lap again. The three of them stayed like that until Aria woke up, full of energy.
If only, Fiona thought as Aria tackled Michael with a burst of giggles. If only Michael could give up his life style. If only they could live their lives like this. Fiona could get used to this, this easy feel of family.
Before Fiona could get too upset about it, however, Michael yanked her down into the wrestling match. Aria's peal of laughter pierced the air and Fiona grinned, joining in. She'd enjoy this while she could.
A/N: Dedicated to my sister, namesake of the little girl in this story.
Also- since I've been getting comments about this... I know it is not typical for an 11-year-old to suck her thumb. However, it has been a stressing time and she's still young. There are adults who still suck their thumbs, they just don't publicize it. Sucking a thumb can also be like a security blanket. Also, if Aria trusts Michael, which she does, it is not strange for her to cuddle with him. Especially if, for example, she fell asleep crying because her parents just died. I mean, hey, if I were in her situation, I'd cuddle and I'm quite a bit older than 11!
I love reviewers and live for constructive criticism!