Disclaimer: Burn notice and it's characters don't belong to me unfortunately.
Feedback: Love it but no flames please, I'm fragile!
AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews and the warm response to my first Michael/Fiona story. This one is based on Long Way Back. I know I'm very, very late with a LWB fic, but I hope you like this. There are some amazing authors in the Burn Notice fandom and I'm honoured to be a part of it.
This is for my CSI/GSR friend TDCSI who wanted hanky panky, well hun you know me, this is about as hanky panky as you'll ever get from me!
Huge thanks as always to Kelly for reading over this for me.
Michael Westen was a man who held his feelings close to his chest, neither willing nor able to show them to anyone. But as he held the wet and injured form of the woman he loved in his arms, those tightly held emotions were visible for the whole world to see.
"Almost there Mikey," Sam yelled above the roar of the charger's engine as he drove at great speed towards Madeline's house. "How's Fiona?"
"Not good Sam, she's in shock," Michael's voice rose in pitch and volume as Fiona shook violently in his arms. He instinctively pulled her closer into him to try and warm her with his body heat.
"Mi…ch..ael," she managed between shudders. "C…cold…"
"I know, Fi, just hang on, okay." Looking frantically up from her face, he was more than relieved to see his mother's house come into view.
Sam pulled the car to a screeching stop and leapt out to open the door on Michaels side, intent on helping him with their injured friend, but Michael was already out and carrying Fiona in his arms.
When the front door flew open, Madeline threw her unlit cigarette into the ashtray and moved towards the commotion. Michael's eyes met hers briefly, stopping her in her tracks when she saw the desperation in his gaze.
"Oh no," she choked, worry evident in her voice. "Fiona—"
She trailed behind him and watched anxiously as he laid Fiona down onto the bed in his old room with such gentleness.
"Mom I need the medical supplies and blankets," he told her hurriedly. "She needs to be out of these wet clothes." When she didn't moved he turned to look at her, urgency in his voice, "MOM."
His mother couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from Fiona's slight form, her mothering instincts keeping her rooted.
"You get them," she told him as her eyes swept worriedly over Fiona's body. "I'll get those wet clothes off of her."
Acting on instinct, Michael shook his head, "Mom, it's okay. I can do it."
Madeline was about to protest when understanding of the intimacy of the situation suddenly flooded through her. In that instant she knew that Fiona would want Michael there beside her.
"Okay," she choked out and quickly left the room.
"Fi," Michael leant over her prone form as he started to slip the bloodied grey vest up her torso to gently slide her injured arm out of it. "I know it hurts," he whispered hoarsely as he saw pain cloud in her half open eyes. "As soon as mom gets back I'm going to give you something for the pain, but I need to get you out of these wet clothes."
"M…Michael," she groaned, her teeth chattering as she started to shake uncontrollably. Michael tried to keep as calm as he could while he unbuttoned her jeans to gently pull the wet material away from her skin.
"I know," his voice wavered slightly when he saw some angry purple bruises on her thigh. Reaching down he traced the discoloration with his fingers, as if he could heal her by his touch alone. She looked so fragile laid there; he'd never seen her looking so small. Tears flooded his eyes but he blinked them away, instead offering her a mantra of comforting words that were more to reassure himself than her.
When he lifted his eyes he didn't expect her to be watching him, he was a fool if he thought for one moment that he could hide his feelings from her.
Fiona reached out a shaky hand to his face, trying to reassure him despite how much pain she was in.
"Yeah," he took her hand and placed a soft kiss in her palm before lowering her arm back down onto the bed. His voice caught on a sob as he tried desperately to be strong for her, but even while he worked to tend to her injuries, an errant tear escaped to roll down his face.
The bedroom door suddenly flew open and he hurriedly swiped his hand across his eyes. If his mother had witnessed his momentary distress, she didn't mention it.
Madeline looked at Fiona worriedly when she came inside carrying medical supplies, a pair of shorts and a white vest top that she'd kept in her bottom draw. She could see how her son was struggling to hold himself together; he'd never been one to allow his feelings to be on show. But like it or not, everything he was trying to hide from her was clearly visible now.
"The top is Fiona's," she told him quickly, handing him the clothes. "She left it here when Marie spilt beer over it when we were playing poker."
"She…did it…on…purpose," Fiona's voice groaned out when Michael touched her wound. Looking up at the older woman she curled her lips up into a shaky smile.
Madeline beamed as she leant across to run her fingers over Fiona's damp hair. "Hey sweetheart. You doing okay?"
"Been…better…" Fiona's voice wavered. "…Michael…"
"I'm right here," he told her, his voice more tender than Madeline had ever heard before. Reaching out his hand, he gently swept his fingers over her cheek. "I'm here."
Michael looked up at his mother in confusion but she shook her head and shrugged.
"Who's jealous Fi?" he asked softly as he reached out to take her arm again, cleaning the wound.
"Marie…" she hissed when pain shot through her arm. "She…likes you…Dammit Michael…"
"I'm sorry," Michael told her gently "I've just given you something for the pain."
"You…could have…warned me," she told him through gritted teeth.
Ignoring her words, he smiled tightly as he started to stitch the wound on her injured arm.
"Sorry," he repeated again, more than relieved that she was sniping at him again. "Not much longer."
"I'll hurt you…later," she winced. "Or I may…kill…you…"
"Almost done," he told her gently as he inserted the needle into her arm again, pulling the wound together.
Fiona gasped and tried to focus on his face but her eyes refused to co-operate, so instead she closed them again, waiting for the stinging pain to ease.
Madeline couldn't bear to see the young woman squeeze her eyes so tightly together, so she moved closer to sit on the edge of the bed and reached out to take Fiona's hand in hers.
"When you're feeling better," she told her with a smile, happy to provide a little distraction. "I'm going to bring all the old photo's of Michael out, and then we're going to have margaritas."
Fiona's eyes snapped open as she looked up at Madeline gazing down at her worriedly. Her eyes welled with tears as she suddenly thought of her own mother. Images of her sister and her brothers whirled around in her head like a carousel making her feel nauseous.
"Sean?" she asked quickly as she swallowed hard to stop the queasiness over take her. "Is…he?"
"He's doing fine honey," Madeline told her with a warming smile. "He's here and he's going to be fine."
Fiona's mind started to fog. She could feel the sedatives beginning to take effect and her eyelids felt like they were lined with lead. Struggling to keep them open, her mother's and sister's images bloomed in her mind, almost blinding her as he eyes slowly closed. She was transported to the place she used to call home, where green fields went on for miles.
"M…mammie," she slurred in her native tongue as the edges of sleep tried to pull her down into darkness. "Do you think…she's still mad…at me…?"
Madeline looked up at Michael worriedly when Fiona's eyes fluttered closed. She had expected him to be as confused as she was, but the raw emotion in his eyes almost tore her apart.
"Michael?" her voice shook as she spoke, her eyes leaving his face to gaze down at the woman on the bed. Taking a breath, she didn't know who Fiona was referring to but whoever it was, Michael wasn't about to betray their trust. Reaching out, she ran the palm of her hand gently across Fiona's hair, saying what she hoped she needed to hear.
"No sweetheart," she soothed as Fiona's eyes flickered open again. "She's not mad at you anymore."
Her words seemed to alleviate Fiona's unease as her eyes finally slipped closed and a small smile graced her beautiful face.
"Are you ever going to tell me what that was about?" Madeline asked later when her son was placing a square piece of gauze over Fiona's arm.
His movements slowed but he didn't meet her gaze, instead he kept his eyes focused on Fiona's arm.
"Okay," Madeline sighed, knowing she wouldn't be getting any answers tonight. She gently pulled her hand away from Fiona's so she didn't wake her. "I need a cigarette."
"Ma," his voice stopped her in her tracks as she reached the door. When she turned to look at him, she could see how exhausted and emotionally drained he was.
"It's okay Michael," she told him with an understanding smile. Her eyes drifted over Fiona's pale face once more before she met his eyes again. "We both love that girl. When she wakes up, it's time you showed her how much."
Madeline didn't wait for his reply as she stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Michael's eyes drifted over Fiona's sleeping form with adoration again as she slept. He'd been unprepared for the sudden onslaught of emotion that coursed through him. He'd never allowed himself to feel for another human being as deeply as he had for her, and it scared him. She could bring him to his knees just with a smile, and he was pretty sure that she knew him better than he knew himself.
Reaching across the bed he took the medical supplies away and pulled the blanket up to cover her near naked body. All he could think of right now was how much he wanted to burrow inside her warmth and never emerge.
Reaching down to his feet, he slipped off his shoes and eased himself down to lie beside her sleeping form. His eyes scanned her face when he turned on his side to face her, content to just watch her sleep. He'd almost lost her today, and the realisation had practically broken him apart. He couldn't function. He couldn't focus. He couldn't let her go. Tears clouded his eyes again as he reached out to lay the palm of his hand over her heart, the rhythmic thrum giving him the reassurance that no matter what happened in the future, they would decide their fate together.
It was dark in the bedroom when Fiona's voice jarred him awake, and it took him a few moments to realise where he was.
"I'm here Fi," he told her softly as he moved closer beside her.
Her eyes fluttered open as she forced herself to focus on him. "Michael…where are we?"
"We're at my mom's," he reassured her and leant over to place a soft kiss onto her cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck," she sighed sleepily. Rolling into his side she slid her arm across his torso. The sudden burning in her injured arm caused her to gasp out before she groaned into his chest. "Dammit…!"
Michael couldn't help it; a low chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. Here was Fiona, his beautiful, tough Fiona. Just the fact that she was here beside him made him almost giddy. Him…Michael Westen…giddy?
"Be more careful then," he told her, punctuating his words with a kiss to her lips.
Fiona sighed, her lips turning up into a contented smile before her eyelids fluttered closed again.
Thinking she had fallen back to sleep, Michael shifted to pull the blanket higher up her body before moving to stand. He really needed to check in with Sam and see how Sean was doing.
"Wait…where are you going?" Fiona's eyes snapped open, her hands grasping his.
Michael looked down at her, "I'm not going anywhere," he promised as he threaded his fingers through hers again. "I was just going to check on Sean."
"Oh," she rubbed her hand across her face. "I can't believe I…how is he? Is he…I should see him…"
"Lay back down," Michael told her as he eased her back down onto the bed. "He's fine, Sam's with him. You can see him later when you're more awake."
They lay there silently for a few moments, both content to be together. This was one of those rare moments when they were at total peace. Fiona's fingers traced a pattern over his chest, needing to feel his warmth beneath her hand.
"I'm awake now," she told him with a soft smile; sleep no longer on her mind. Reaching up against his chest, Fiona pushed herself up on her uninjured arm to press her lips to his, bridging the gap between them to steal the breath from him. Lying back down against the pillows, she took him with her, their kiss deepening as she encircled him with her good arm.
"You came for me," she whispered against his lips as she gazed up adoringly into his eyes.
"I did," he told her, feeling burning love course through him as he leaned down to press his lips over hers once more, groaning into her mouth when her fingers skimmed over his back, her nails delicately stroking his shirt covered skin.
Pulling away from her lips, he leaned up on one elbow to gaze down into her eyes. Everything he wanted to say to her suddenly melted away to leave only three words that kept repeating over and over in his mind.
"I love you," he whispered, amazed at how easily the words slipped from his lips. He was pretty sure that he had never been in love before, nothing that he had experienced had ever compared to how he felt when he was with her.
Fiona's eyes swam with unshed tears. The sincerity in which he spoke those three words of love caused her heart to swell with every emotion she had ever felt. Sliding a hand from his shoulder, she traced a finger over his cheek and then his lips.
"I love you too," she told him honestly, the simplicity of those tiny words meaning so much for them both. With a beaming smile, she pulled him down to her again kissing him with everything she possessed. He pressed into her body, willingly following wherever she led him.
One powerful kiss followed another until they broke apart gasping for air. Their eyes met and held, powerful desires speaking volumes in their gaze.
His breath fanned her face and her eyes fluttered closed as he descended on her lips once more, this time giving in to the passion that coursed throughout her body. Unable to wait any longer, she sank into him, her tongue begging for entry into his mouth, desperate to feel the same sparking connection to him that they had experienced so many times before.
He readily complied, his tongue meeting hers with equal passion. He released her hand to reach behind her and pull her closer to his body, his aching arousal pressing into her. Fiona's hand reached up to thread her fingers through his hair and the other encircled his back, ignoring the pain in her arm and pulling him enticingly closer.
Her fingers tugged at his shirt, pulling the material up his torso, desperate to feel his skin. Pulling his lips away from hers, he sat up and yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it away from the bed, uncaring where it landed, followed closely by his pants to land in a messy heap on the floor.
With surprising force, Fiona's nimble fingers worked his shorts lower, eliciting a low moan from deep within his throat as she scraped her fingers over his body. He blindly followed, placing open mouthed kisses over every part of her skin that he could find, while she helped him pull her underwear down her thighs.
Unable to wait any longer, she spurred him on with whispered words, encouraging him onwards until he buried himself deep inside her, both of them gasping with the contact.
They moved as one, joined in intimacy, and when she cried his name upon release, his body soon followed to bring him crashing down to earth beside her. Afterwards, they lay together, silently bathing in the afterglow of each other, her fingers stroking his back as he nestled his head between her neck and shoulder. Their breathing had become shallow and laboured, but neither cared nor wanted to move. Making love had always forged a strong bond between them, a connection that no one else could ever break, but tonight that link was stronger somehow, more deeper than ever.
"That was…" Fiona's voice caught in her throat as she pressed soft kisses into his hair.
"I know," he gasped, lifting his head to gaze down at her, his eyes saying more to her than any words ever could.
"You need to rest," he told her softly as he slowly pulled away from her to roll on to his side, taking her with him.
"I sleep better when I'm with you," she sighed happily, threading her fingers through his. "It's one of my flaws."
Placing a soft kiss on to her temple he smiled into her hair and closed his eyes.
When Madeline came back into the room the next morning with a tray of Yogurt in her hands, she almost dropped it when she saw the pile of clothes heaped on the floor by the bed. She placed the tray onto the bedside table, casting a delirious smile over the sleeping couple then backtracked out of the bedroom. Standing just outside the door, she couldn't contain her happiness when she put another cigarette to her mouth and smiled. Maybe her son had found his happily ever after, after all…