Disclaimer: Burn notice still doesn't belong to me unfortunately
Spoilers for 5x12, set directly after the beach scene.
A/N: Special thanks as always to Purdy's Pal and Daisyday for reading through the first half of this.
Chase The Day Away
They stood on the beach, hand in hand, both of them still reeling from Anson's latest revelation. It seemed that they could never catch their breaths, not even for a second before the next big disaster came into their lives and scattered their peace into oblivion
Fiona lifted her eyes to his face and tried to concentrate on the feel of his hand around hers. Guilt rose inside her when she saw how he was trying to remain in control and she couldn't help but lay the blame of this new disaster on herself. If she'd listened to him and walked away then maybe they wouldn't be in this situation now. But how could she have just walked away? How could she have left him there with Larry, knowing that he would almost certainly face death?
Michael was staring out to the ocean with unseeing eyes, and she knew his mind was still reeling. His childhood continually came back to haunt him and no matter how many times she held him or laid her body as close to his as she could, even beyond the grave his father had found a way to keep some level of control.
She watched as his jaw twitched and she doubted he was even there with her anymore. He was in his own world, caught up in memories that she had only recently been privy to. He hadn't told her everything but between the snippets of his past, combined with his terrifying nightmares, she had put all of the puzzle pieces of Michael Westen together and came up with her own version of his childhood.
She had been enraged at first, her primal instincts wanting to protect him from the ghosts of his past. She wanted to visit Frank Westen's grave and curse over his headstone before digging him up to fire bullets into his rotting corpse. Squeezing his hand tighter she stepped around his prone form to stand before him and reached across for his other hand.
"Michael," she spoke his name with deliberate care, wanting nothing more than to bring him out of the memories that danced behind his eyes. When he didn't respond she tried again, squeezing his fingers in between hers until he finally looked down at her.
Sudden tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away in defiance. Anson had already driven her to tears enough times already and she wouldn't let him do it this time. Stepping closer, she kept their hands tightly locked together as she moulded herself against his body, laying her head against his chest. His heart was hammering beneath her ear and she closed her eyes against the rapturous well of emotion that flooded through her. She would do anything for this man and Anson knew it. She had played right into his hands and managed to cause the man she loved even more pain.
Closing her eyes briefly she tried to think of every scenario, anything that could erase the threat that hung over their heads, but she could only think of one. If she were gone then Michael would be free. He could do his job, fight the bad guys, work for the CIA and finally have the freedom to choose his own path. The only thing that stood in his way was her.
Taking a deep breath she lifted her head from his chest and squeezed his fingers before lifting her eyes to his face. His eyes slowly dropped to hers, hiding the welling emotions behind his sunglasses. She couldn't ever remember a time when she had seen him so…broken, and it tore her apart. Fiona's heart clenched as she dropped her gaze to the sand, unable to bear the weight of his stare. She only had one thing that she could do now, and she knew it would break her heart, but she had to do this, if only for him.
"I'll leave Miami," she told him, her voice a mere whisper. When he didn't react she thought that maybe he hadn't heard her so she took a breath and spoke again. "I can contact—"
"No," he told her, his voice coming from nowhere to break into hers. He held onto her fingers and squeezed the digits between his, urging her to lift her eyes to his. When she shook her head he swallowed hard and untangled their fingers to slide his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. "No."
"I'm so sorry," she mumbled against him, and she really meant it. "It's my fault—"
Her words shot a bolt of regret through his body causing him to pull her in closer. His arms tightened around her shoulders and his fingers slid into her hair in a near desperate embrace. He couldn't let her go and that had been his problem all along.
"It's not your fault," he told her, whispering into her hair. "Anson planned all of this a long time ago. He set out to bring me down—"
Fiona's breath caught on a sob as she lifted her head to look up into his face. "He's using me to do it."
"He's using a lot of things," his voice was soft when he bent his head so that their foreheads were touching. "I need you Fi."
Fiona's heart ached as she drew in a sharp breath. Stepping closer she moulded her body to his and wrapped her arms around his back when he tucked her head beneath his chin.
"What are we going to do?" she asked softly, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.
"I don't know," he told her honestly as he placed a soft kiss into her hair. "Sam and Jesse are at the loft taking care of the bugs Anson planted. They're waiting for us to call I guess…"
"Can we just go somewhere?" she asked quietly. "Anywhere…just for tonight…I'm not ready to… face them…"
Michael closed his eyes and dropped his lips to her head, holding her as close as he could.
"They don't blame you Fi," he told her, his breath fanning her hair. "No one does…"
"He said his wife's name was Claire," she told him as she slowly pulled away from him to turn around in his arms so her back was against his chest. She leaned against him and enclosed her fingers over his on her stomach and watched the waves crash onto the wet sand. "I should have realised it then…he knew exactly what to say to make me believe the only way to save you was to…" her voice broke off and she dropped her eyes to their joined hands. There was no point going over and over the things neither of them could change.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked her as he placed a soft kiss against her ear.
"Anywhere," she sighed. "Can it be you and me…just for tonight?"
Michael smiled despite everything that hung over them. How could he deny her when she had already given up so much of herself for him? Loosening his arms he stepped back and reached out to take her hand in his.
"Come on," he told her as he pulled her along. "First, you're going to talk to Sam."
Fiona swallowed the dread in the pit of her stomach and waited for him to drop her hand like he always did when they were out together, but to her surprise he didn't. Instead he wrapped his fingers around hers and held on tighter, unwilling to let her go.
Back at the loft Sam was helping himself to a beer when the loft door slowly opened to reveal Michael pulling a very subdued Fiona behind him.
"Well it's about time," he sighed, slamming his beer onto the breakfast bar to walk towards them. He stopped short when he realised that Michael hadn't let go of Fiona's hand and for a moment he was rooted to the spot, not knowing if he should go towards her or stay where he was.
"We had another visit with Anson," Michael told him as he looked around the loft. "Did you clear—"
"All taken care of brother," Sam told him as he looked at Fiona's still form. Taking a step forward he regarded the quiet woman fondly before casting Michael a worried glance.
Michael shook his head slowly and nodded towards Fiona before untangling their fingers. "I'm gonna get cleaned up…"
Fiona's gaze shot to his, accusations in her eyes. Reaching out to her, Michael placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it before turning towards the bathroom, leaving her to face Sam alone.
They regarded one another cautiously until the noise from the shower broke through the silence. Fiona swallowed hard and moved towards him, trying to think of something to say. She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes for fear of seeing the disappointment she knew she would see there.
A few years ago she wouldn't have cared what he thought of her, but over the time they had spent together she had begrudgingly grown quite fond of the man who stood before her. She hated to admit it but his opinion mattered, and despite what she had thought of him on so many past occasions, he was her friend.
"Did you bring beer?" She asked quickly, not giving him a chance to answer before she rushed passed him. "I forgot to pick some up last time I was at the store…I can't believe I forgot…"
Sam watched her as she babbled and the sight of her wavering before him was unnerving. Moving towards the bar he leant on the counter and watched her as she moved back and forth from the cupboard to the kettle and back again, all the while avoiding mentioning the explosion.
"Fi?" he spoke her name as she moved, hoping to slow her down but she evaded his gaze. "Fiona.
His voice stilled her movements and she came to rest opposite him, her hands pressed against the top of the breakfast bar. He could see her take a deep breath before she leant heavily against the bar.
"I'm sorry I lied to you," she told him softly as she slowly lifted her eyes to his. "I knew it was dangerous and I couldn't—"
"It's okay," he told her, cutting her off mid sentence. "Mike told me about Anson…that guy played all of us Fi, it wasn't your fault."
Fiona shook her head and dropped her eyes back to her hands. "It still falls on me though doesn't it?"
Sam sighed heavily and reached out to pat her hand but thought better of it and pulled himself back. "Look, Fi you've gotta snap outta this. It's done, over, you can't change it. Anson killed those guards, not you, so quit this pity party and look to the future."
"The future?" she snapped angrily, fire once again sparking in her eyes. "What future? Because of me that bastard has control…and no matter how this whole thing plays out he's dangling me over Michael's head."
"We'll figure something out," he told her as he picked up his beer and regarded it thoughtfully.
"I thought about leaving," she admitted softly, all the fire gone from her eyes. "If I'm not here then Anson doesn't have control…Michael could have his life back—"
"And what about you?" he asked her as he placed his bottle back onto the breakfast bar. "Do you really think you could walk away?"
"To save him yes, but it wouldn't be easy for me…" she told him with complete conviction before quickly averting her eyes so he couldn't see the sorrow in them. "He did it for me when he left me in Ireland…and I hated him for a long time, but I forgave him…eventually…maybe he would be able to forgive me too."
"Look," Sam started, his gaze focused on her. "I don't wanna hear about anyone leaving and I'm the last person to be dishing out relationship advice, but you and Mike…you're like, I don't know…rock-solid…you two have beaten back the odds and you're still together, that has to count for something."
His words caused something inside her to snap and she looked up at him with surprise. In the early days he had done everything he could to try and steer Michael away from her, but now…
"It counts," she told him with a genuine smile. "Thanks Sam."
He nodded and raised his bottle towards her, tipping it as a way of acknowledgement. They both looked up when Michael came back into the kitchen looking from one to the other expectantly.
"So…" he started cautiously. "Are you…?"
"I think Thumbelina here is gonna be just fine," Sam told him with a wide grin as he looked down at his watch. "Well I've gotta run. Elsa's due back in a couplea hours…Oh by the way," Sam reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out two silver keys and handed them to Michael. "Jesse called in a favour and got you two a brand new lock…it's state of the art so you don't have to worry about that weasel letting himself in."
Michael took the offered keys and looked down at them before meeting Fiona's watery gaze. "Thanks Sam, for everything…"
"No problem brother," he nodded as he turned back towards the door. "Stay out of trouble you two."
When he was gone Fiona walked around the breakfast bar to lay her hand over Michael's, taking the keys from his fingers to place them onto the counter top.
"That was…sweet," she told him thoughtfully as she ran her fingers over the shiny metal.
"They care about you Fi," he told her, reaching out a hand to comb his fingers through her hair. She turned her head, following his touch to bring her back around to face him.
Their eyes met and held, their gaze conveying everything they wanted to say to one another. Stepping closer Fiona wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his shoulder, relishing the feel of his body close to hers.
His arms wound around her, pulling her tightly against him. She had stolen his heart from him so long ago and despite being apart for so many years, he had always known that he still belonged to her. Dropping his lips he peppered tiny kisses over her cheeks, coaxing her to lift her mouth to his.
Their lips grazed gently, casting the last few hours away as they came together. He ascended on her, backing her slowly into the breakfast bar cupping her face gently in the palms of his hands.
Fiona was lost in him, his scent intoxicating as she moved her arms up over his chest. Her whole existence centred around this man and she closed the short distance between them to capture his lips, banishing everything but him from her mind.
Michael's fingers traced the length of her back, up towards her shoulder blades and back down again, burying themselves inside the waistband of her white shorts.
Fiona groaned into his mouth as he tugged her closer, opening her mouth to him and deepening their kiss as her own fingers began an exploration of their own.
One of her hands journeyed up towards his hair, entangling her fingers into the soft strands. She took possession of him, sealing them together in a blinding intoxicating kiss that left him powerless against her. Her other hand began to mimic his as she delved her fingers into the rear of his pants, delighted with the shiver that emanated from deep inside his body.
Michael tore his mouth from hers, his breathing heavy with passion "Fi," he gasped, "Fiona"
"Shhh," she whispered, moving her lips to his ear to place slow arousing kisses over his lobes, granting them her full attention before moving to the skin of his neck tracing her lips along the fine lines.
Michael's whole body was on high alert as she continued her sweet torture, driving his senses through the roof as he fought to control his breathing.
His body cried out for her to grant him the release he needed as he responded to her in every possible way. His hands left her rear to travel up towards her shoulders, enticing soft moans of approval from deep inside her throat as his lips chased hers to finally capture her mouth. He took control, plunging his tongue deep inside almost making his knees buckle from the sensations she was evoking inside his body.
He nudged her closer towards the breakfast bar, pinning her between him and the bar, holding her prisoner as his lips left hers to begin their journey downwards over her chin and neck.
"Michael," she gasped, flexing her fingers over his shoulders only to clutch his shirt possessively a second later. She threw her head back, gasping for air as she gave him better access to her throat, her soft groans only encouraging him to move lower. One of his hands left her back to reach beneath the edge of her shirt to touch the skin on her stomach.
Fiona shivered with the contact, her whole body clutching him to her, keeping him close, unwilling to let him go as his fingers began tracing soft circles over her stomach. All of the words he couldn't say sprang into his mind, aching to be spoken with every touch of his lips. Every kiss was a declaration of his love, of his devotion and his commitment to her forever.
His own passion amazed him. He'd never wanted to make love with a woman as much as he did her. His entire body was tingling with anticipation, needing release from the painful build up of sexual tension that had kept them locked together for the many years he had known her.
Without leaving her lips, his arms scooped her effortlessly into his arms as he carried her towards the bed, her soft moans only increasing the speed in which he moved.
Kneeling down onto the mattress, he laid her down, his mouth still joined to hers both unwilling to release the other from this powerful show of intense desire.
Slowly, he pulled his lips from hers, smiling at her soft whimper as she tried desperately to pull him back to her again.
"Michael…" she asked when he hovered over her, his breath fanning her lips.
"He can't take this from us," he told her, punctuating his words with a kiss. She surrendered beneath him as she slid her hands over his chest to link her fingers behind his neck, holding him over her.
His mouth covered hers, stealing the words from her lips with his own. She relaxed beneath him, burying her fingers into his hair as he slowly pulled away to gaze down at her.
"I won't let him take you away from me," he told her, his voice shaking as he laid his forehead over hers before placing a kiss onto her nose.
Fiona traced his face with her fingers and smiled up at him with unwavering devotion. "I won't let him take this" she promised as she lifted herself up to capture his lips in a long lingering kiss, sealing their fates together as they lost themselves in each other once more to leave the past few days behind them…