The Girl Can't Help It

A Burn Notice Fic

By: Amanda Croft

Song: The Girl Can't Help It

By: Journey

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the show or song, this was just written for fun.

Author's note: I couldn't help myself. I was doing dishes and heard this song and thought that it was a great song to describe Michael and Fiona's relationship, especially the chorus. The bold, italicized words are song lyrics.

If he could hold her, so close in his arms again.

There were times when he wanted nothing more than to hold her like he had as Michael McBride. Days that he longed for the good old days and the relationship they shared. He still loved her just as much, if not more, than he had all those years ago. But loving her was dangerous for both of them. They had learned that the hard way. If he let himself love her, his enemies could use it against them both – and now that he was out in the cold he had plenty of enemies sniffing around. So he restrained himself and put up an almost cold barrier between them. There were times his arms ached for her, but he overrode the impulse by pure force of will.

If she could show him the letter her heart forgot to send.

Fiona sat in her room fingering a piece of paper, slightly crumpled and worn now. It was addressed to the man who had broken her heart. After she woke that morning to find him gone, she had broken into a million pieces. She couldn't believe he would just leave her like that. And, since he wasn't there to scream at, she had written a letter. Granted, she didn't have a clue where to send it, but that was probably for the best at the time. She had poured out her heart and tears as she worked through her emotions. But, it served as a reminder to never let herself fall in love again. And she had been successful until he had come back into her life. Now, she read the letter over and over to remind herself that she couldn't fall for Michael Weston again. The only problem was that it was already too late.

Why?

They're living dreams on their own.

Ooh, they'll never stop running.

For Michael, being alone was simply an occupational hazard. He couldn't afford to have close ties. And he was far too restless to settle down. So, he pursued his dreams – the few he had left anyway – alone. Right now, his dream was primarily to clear his name. Yes, he wanted his job back. Yes, he wanted his accounts unfrozen and the ability to freely leave Miami and the safety that came with the protection of an agency – but what he wanted most was to clear his name. He was a good man, a patriot – not a traitor and murderer. As it was, he couldn't really stop running (even if it was in place) for fear that his past would come back to haunt him, or worse yet hurt those few that he reluctantly allowed himself to love.

Fiona looked at the prospect of being alone for the rest of her life, more as a matter of fate. The one man that she had ever really loved had broken her, and she refused to let herself be that vulnerable again. When she had first met Michael McBride she had instantly felt a connection. As ridiculous as it seemed, even to herself, she felt as though she had found her soul mate. So, when she learned that Michael McBride was really Michael Weston, she only spent a week being righteously angry. After she had moved past the quick flash of rage, things had been so much better than before, and she had allowed herself to picture their future together. She saw them growing old and raising a couple adorable children. But he left and her dreams were shattered. And, try as she might, she could never bring herself to see that kind of future with any of the men she dated afterwards. She guessed, in her own way, she was still running from the pain.

The girl can't help it, she needs more – he hasn't found what he's looking for.

When he had first gotten burned, Fi had practically jumped for joy. He was out of the spy business and would be forced to stay put, for a while at least. She couldn't help thinking that this was their chance to start over. They had both had time to get over the hurt, for the most part, and had grown. Now he couldn't leave and she could maybe have a little piece of normal. His mother seemed to like her, and she could tolerate his one real friend, and they were both in Miami. So she allowed her defenses to fall, just a little. Unfortunately, he wasn't ready or had moved past his feelings, or something and wouldn't give 'them' a chance. He hadn't found what he was looking for, and he was chasing his burn notice.

They're still standing in the rain – he can't help it and she's just that way.

They were fighting again, but that was nothing new. They were both stubborn and had amazing tempers and, truth be told, they kind of enjoyed the rush. But, they were standing in his mother's back yard in the pouring rain barely six inches from each other screaming. This was one of the better arguments. So far, there had been no physical blows. She was furious about his single mindedness and obsession with his burn notice, not to mention the fact that he was starting to take idiotic risks like working with Strickler. He was beyond frustrated that she couldn't understand just how important clearing his name was not only for him, but for all of them. He knew he was taking a risk, but there had been too many close calls as of late with ghosts from his past. He needed to be under some kind of umbrella for his peace of mind as well as all of their safety. He couldn't risk something happening to his mother or Nate or Sam and most of all, to her. This was just something he had to do, he couldn't help it, and this was just her way of dealing with things.

And when he calls her, she tells him that she still cares.

After the fighting had stopped, Fi had bolted through the house, not caring about the trail of water left in her wake, and driven as fast as the pouring rain allowed back to her apartment. Hours later, after she had finally managed to calm the storm raging in her, her phone rang. And despite the urge she had to ignore it, a small smile still found its way to her face. He had called to apologize and make sure they were still both ok. It was annoying how well he knew her, calling practically the minute she had once again reached equilibrium. She assured him that she was fine, they would be fine, and just before she hung up she whispered "I still love you."

Her whispered declaration had been so faint that he could almost swear that he had imagined it, but he knew he hadn't. The truth was, he was acutely aware of the fact that they were still very much in love. That's what made this whole ordeal so complicated, and bearable. He could handle just about anything as long as Fi was by his side.

Under the moon light, he wonders why she can't be there.

Michael sits on the balcony over the club looking up at the stars. Briefly allowing himself to be nostalgic, he wishes Fi was there to share the sight with him. It is a beautiful full harvest moon and if he closes his eyes, he can picture her laughing in that carefree way he misses so much while he chases her around the Irish countryside under a similar moon. Taking a sip from his beer, he briefly wonders why she can't be there to share the night with him. Then, he is brought back to reality and has to remind himself that them not being together, not having a relationship, if for the best for everyone involved. Sighing, he closes his eyes again and lets the bitter sweet memories wash over him.

Why?

Why do they go on alone when their missing each other?

Maddie watches them dance around each other, and her heart breaks for them both. She can see that her son is a better man for having Fiona in his life, and that he loves her more than anything. She's seen him after particularly bad fights and she's seen him when he worries about her. It's easy to see that he misses her and what they obviously shared in the past. And yet, he refuses to let her into his heart again.

Then there's the woman who has become like a daughter to her. All she has to do is listen to the wistful way the younger woman says Michael's name and it is clear as day how she feels. Fiona is a strong woman and she hides her feelings well (most of the time), but she can't hide how her heart has been broken and continues to break. Still, she tries to keep her distance because through no fault of her own, she'll have to go on alone. And it breaks the older woman's heart to see two people obviously made for each other simply throw happiness away.

The girl can't help it, she needs more – he hasn't found what he's looking for.

The thinly veiled pain in Michael's eyes is almost enough to make her call back her latest distraction to cancel their date. Almost, but not quite. The problem is that she can't just sit around pining for Michael. She has never been that kind of girl, and she refuses to be that now. In a way she guesses she flaunts her boy toys in his face hoping to force his hand. She wants him to tell her not to go, to tell her he loves her. She hates that despite the obviously pained eyes, he puts on a front of being happy for her. Maybe that's what he thinks she wants. While what she really wants is for him to finally find whatever it is that he's been looking for that has stood in their way.

They're still standing in the rain – he can't help it and she's just that way.

It had been another close call, too close. He watched as the warehouse exploded into fire and light and almost couldn't keep himself on his feet. Fiona had been in that building seconds ago, and he didn't know if she actually got out. He felt himself slipping back to another close call, one where he had been sure he had lost her. As a matter of fact, it had started raining then too. Finally snapping himself out of his daze, he jumped in the charger and raced around to the back of the shambles of building. She wasn't there, but he couldn't fall apart yet. Last time, she had been fine and he kept telling himself she was now too. Racing to the loft, he saw her sitting on the steps in the pounding rain and a weight fell from his shoulders. Getting out of the car, they just stood in the rain, soaked to the bone staring at each other, assuring themselves that the other was ok. Slowly, they moved towards each other and found themselves wrapped up in an urgent embrace. He needed to know she was real and she needed to feel safe in his arms, just for a little while.

Girl can't help it, she needs more – he hasn't found what he's looking for.

She was leaving. She couldn't just stand by and watch as the man she loved morphed into someone else. If he had been willing to listen to her, then maybe it would be different. She had warned him about not trusting that weasel Strickler, but he had anyway. This obsession he had developed over his burn notice was steadily changing him, killing off the man she knew and loved and replacing him with someone else entirely. Some may say that he became other people all the time, every mission, every cover. But this was different. Those were simply masks he put on, but this change was not superficial. This change was coming from his very core and she could no longer stand by and watch, so she was returning to Ireland. What they had wasn't enough to keep her, and as much as it killed her, she needed to move on once and for all.

They're still standing in the rain – he can't help it and she's just that way.

This time, there was no literal rain, but his world was crashing down around him. His Fiona was leaving him! And he hadn't even made a move to stop her. Sure he had called out to her, but he hadn't even taken a step towards the door. Maybe he had thought that she didn't really mean it. It had come up out of the blue, as far as he could tell, and she was prone to being a little dramatic when she was upset. That had to be it, she was simply mad and trying to make a point. She would get over it quickly enough, and they could go back to life as usual. When she didn't show up to back him up, he started to worry just a bit that she had meant it. Then, when night had fallen and hours had passed and she refused to even talk to him over the phone, he realized that she was really going to leave and the shattered pieces of his heart poured down. Still, instead of trying to stop her, he spent the night and the next day pining and looking through old pictures of their better years. He couldn't help it and she was just that way.

Ooh, there's a fire in his eyes for you.

(Don't you know she still cries?)

Some days, she swore that he couldn't care less if she lived or died. He was so closed off, so distant, so emotionally unavailable. Then, she would see a spark. Most times it was brief or during a fight, but she could see it every so often, and she knew that somewhere deep down he still cared. She thought that maybe that was why she fought with him so often. Granted they often disagreed and were both amazingly stubborn, but most of their fights started over nothing that she blew out of proportion. Usually when that happened bystanders attributed it to her Irish temper, but the truth was that she just needed to see that passion for her in Michael's eyes. She lived for the moments she could get a glimpse at what he was really feeling, and silently, privately cried when she stopped to think that he would rather hide that passion and fire than risk a relationship with her again.

Ooh, do you know she still cries for you?

(Fire)

Every once in a while Michael would see a glimpse of some phantom emotion in Fiona's eyes for just a second. It was never enough for him to place, but it haunted him all the same. As ridiculous and out of place as it sounded for the firey woman, the closest word he could find to describe it was – hopelessness. Once, he even caught a couple of silent tears glistening on her cheeks before she felt his presence and turned away. The next second she turned around and it was as if he had imagined it. He tried not to dwell on it, after all if she wanted him to know, she would tell him. The worst he had seen since being in Miami had been a couple of days after Cambell had broken it off with her, and he had attributed the moroseness to be a result of the break up while simultaneously plotting a way to hurt the man back and cursing the fact that she had cared so much for this other man.

Ooh, there's a fire in his eyes for you.

(For you she cries.)

Ooh, do you know she still cries for you?

(Fire)

Maddie Weston had never seen two people so oblivious to the obvious in her life. For all their training and intelligence and insight, Michael and Fiona couldn't seem to understand the other's emotions. She could see how much Michael still cared for Fiona just by the way he looked at her when he thought no one was watching. He studied her every move and feature, committing everything to memory with a fire and desire that smoldered in his eyes. But the second that the woman in question turned her focus back to him, a shield seemed to slam into place and block what he was feeling. As for Fiona, it was plain as day that her heart was aching for Michael. Maddie had even found her wiping away a few stray tears in the bathroom after a particularly intense fight. She hid it well, but if a few harsh words from a man could reduce her to tears, she was obviously in love. So Maddie did what she could – she dropped hints and forced conversations and covertly interrogated and set up 'family' dinners and prayed that they would come to their senses before it was too late.

Ooh, there's a fire in his eyes for you.

(Ooh, there's a fire.)

Ooh, do you know she still cries for you?

(Ooh, nothing stands between love and you.)

Spoilers: Minor for several episodes in season 2