Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just play with it.

Just a little one-shot that occurred to me after watching episode 6.04 "Under the Gun" again.

Under Love She Surrenders

By WritePassion

She replayed the voice mail message so many times, she lost count. It had gone beyond the words he said. Now, she listened to the inflections and tone of his voice. She'd never heard her Sammy talk like that before. He'd spoken to her gently, whispered words, and moaned out her name in moments of passion. But this was different. He sounded like a man with a gun to his head, like he didn't expect to make dinner, the rest of the evening, or his life. He said he loved her. "I love you, baby." He'd said it. He finally said it, and it had to be the last words she would ever hear from him.

Elsa couldn't take it anymore. She collapsed in a heap on the couch in her hotel penthouse overlooking the city of Miami. As the darkness settled in to signal the coming night and the stars twinkled and fought for attention through the light pollution, Elsa was oblivious to the view that always gave her pleasure. Without her Sammy beside her, it wasn't worth looking. Without him in her life, she wasn't sure how she'd make it. She was wealthy and had everything she ever wanted, but until he walked into her hotel looking for a blind date that never showed, she'd been missing something. She had it with him. So close, only to lose it.

It reminded her of when she was a child and she played in the lake while minnows slipped around her feet and ankles. She reached out to grab one in her hand. It was slippery and elusive, and in a flash, it was gone. What she had with Sammy was like that. She thought she had him, but now he was embroiled in something so terrible, he was going to die and she would never see him alive again. She realized that by now he was probably dead. He'd slipped through her fingers, and the loss was like a crushing weight on top of her.

Her wail filled the empty room, but it couldn't ever be loud enough to push out the cold empty feeling in her chest. It was the space where her heart lay until Sammy stole it, and it wasn't coming back. How could she still be alive? She sobbed with such intensity, Elsa thought she would run out of breath. It's okay, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters without him.

She barely heard the sound of a door opening, followed by the doorman's voice. "Madame, it's..." He broke off when he saw her anguish, frozen to the spot, unsure of what to do. He was grateful for the hand that held him back, and he silently backed out of the room, closed the door, and left them alone.

"Elsa, baby. What's the matter?"

Warm, powerful but gentle hands grasped her arms, and they pulled her to a kneeling position on the couch. Through blurry eyes, she looked up, and a sound like a gasp and cry came out of her. "S-Sammy?" She imploded into a mess of tears while she cried his name over and over. "Sammy, oh, Sammy! Is it you?"

"Yes, it's me, sweetheart," he responded with a choked voice. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

Elsa's arms flew around his shoulders and clamped tightly to him as she blubbered into his shoulder. His shirt was smeared with dirt, but she didn't care if her tears made a little mud. Nothing else mattered, except the fact that he was alive and with her.

When she could finally find her voice, she said, "I thought you were dead! Your voice on the phone... Sammy... I thought I'd never see you alive again!"

He gave her a smile that never failed to melt her insides. "I'd move heaven and earth to come home to you, baby." He kissed her lips, and what started out as a tender touch flamed into a roaring passion. He stood straight, hiked her up so she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he continued kissing her and blazing a trail on her jaw, to her neck, and downward. He carried her to the bedroom and dropped with her on the bed, gave her a smile that promised more, and attacked her collarbone, releasing the buttons on her shirt as he kissed a path down her chest.

Sammy was a terrific lover, but that night was pure magic. When they first met, she thought he was hot. He was a gentleman and she was impressed with his manners. He knew what women liked, and he used that knowledge to full advantage. One night with him, and she was hooked like he was heroin. She couldn't get enough. She called him her boy toy, because he was always so eager to see her just about any time, anywhere, and make love for hours on end. He was at her beck and call, which made her feel good that she could control him. Little did she know that all that time he controlled her. He was the one who held her heart strings, and until he admitted under the threat of death that he loved her, she hadn't realized that she herself felt the same.

After a shower, some more loving, and lying together with their arms around each other, Sammy fell asleep. He'd had a rough day, worse than anything she could ever imagine. She hovered over him. He looked so sweet and innocent with his eyes closed, his features relaxed, and a slight smile on his lips. She reached out and used a feather light touch to trace the stitches at his hairline where he'd been hit with the butt of a gun. When he came to her it was all fixed, but she imagined streams of blood rolling down the side of his face. It was a good thing she hadn't seen it. If she'd been there, she might have turned on the woman who did it and strangled her with her bare hands. But to hear Sammy tell it, she probably wouldn't have gotten the chance. She would have been dead, and so would he.

Elsa planted a kiss on his temple and slipped an arm under his neck, and she held his head against her. He was so tired, the movement didn't rouse him. My poor Sammy! The things you do for your friends and people you don't even know! It would be so easy for me to ask you to stop, to request that you just be mine, but I know you would never do that. You're your own man, and I am your love, but it wouldn't be fair for me to keep you all to myself.

With a deep sigh, Elsa slipped down beside him, stretched an arm over his chest, and ran her hand over his arm. He mumbled, and his hand slid up to caress hers.

"I love you, Sammy." She moved her hand to rake over his chest.

"I love you too, Elsa." He placed a kiss on her forehead, and then he went back to sleep.

She burrowed into his warmth, secure in the knowledge that he was hers, but he wasn't just a toy anymore. Somehow, she'd surrendered to his love, and everything changed.

He and she were one.