Disclaimer: Burn Notice and all of its characters belong to Matt Nix and the USA Network.

Guys. Four. Days. AHHH! I'M SO EXCITED! That is all.

This is just a little piece that I came up with while eating breakfast with a bunch of my cop buddies this morning at the diner. I hope you enjoy it!

Explosions. Fire fights. More than one...less than pleasant experience with Michael and Fiona. I've been through all of it. Being part of this team has never been easy, but it comes witht the territory of being part of Michael Westen's family. Let's be honest, the man is a magnet for trouble, and if you have enough of a death wish to stick around him longer than a day, you'll be sucked into that magnetic pull as well.

I've seen him break down, and I've helped him pull himself back together to rebuild that stoney exterior of the "super spy". I've also seen him so completely, and utterly lost that I thought he may not be able to find his way back. When Michael came home from the military, I had been ecstatic, but he had just brushed me off like I was dirt on his uniform. It was heartbreaking.

I know that we had our differences, and I wasn't exactly thrilled that he was running away from his family, but I had expected him to be a bit happier to see me when he returned. Instead, he had paced back and forth in the family driveway until the soles of his shoes were scuffed and worn before tearing off down the road, his eyes raging.

I had silently endured his screaming rants on more than one occasion, allowing him to vent his rage, and I had taken more than one beating in the wake of that rage. It was a painful job, but someone had to do it, right? Some sort of selfproclaimed martyr, I am.

You may be wondering why I do what I do. It's simple, really.

As much of a pain in the ass as it is to be Michael's family, I'm really glad that I get to be part of it. As obnoxious as it may be to endure Jesse's whining, Sam's attempts to antagonize Fi (and her threats on his life that always follow), and the powerful odor of Maddie's cigarette smoke, there is no other team that I would be a part of.

Because, when the entire gang slides onto the leather seats, and Michael fires my engine up, I can't help but be giddy with excitement as we head towards a new job. This is my family. This is my team. And I wouldn't trade it for the world, because when you're the car of a burned spy, there's nothing that you wouldn't do for him.