Hi! This is my first story. It's just me getting my feet wet so it's super short. Any feedback would be wonderful and greatly appreciated. Thanks!

"You're just walking away, Fi?" His voice is low and full of emotion at least to me it is. I stop packing my bag as I sigh. I'm finished fighting. I've given him chance after chance to prove that I mean something to him. I know I'll never be as important as the CIA is, but I deserve to be. "Why is this so easy for you."

"Even after all these years, Michael?" I don't know if he can hear it; the disbelief oozing from my words, but I can. How can he think that this is easy? I've stood by his side for years, sure I bitched at him, but I never left him even when he left me time after time.

I hear the steps creaking as he walks down them; closer to me. I fight the urge to turn towards him. It's harder than it should be, but I know that I'll give in. I always give in. I can't keep doing this. I must let him go. It's the only way he'll ever be truly happy. "Why are you leaving me?" I sigh again and continue to pack my bags. "Fiona." His voice demands my attention and I hate it. I hate that he knows I'll turn towards him. I hate that I follow his unspoken command of 'look at me'. I hate being told what to do but with him it's always been different.

"Do you remember when we met?" I ask as I turn towards him.

"Belfast.." He begins but I interrupt him.

"No, do you remember how we were then?"

"Fi…"

"We would talk for hours about absolutely nothing, Micheal. We would laugh until we couldn't breathe…"

"Things were simpler then...everything is so complicated now." He reaches out towards me, but I step back. "I wish..."

"Michael, we would fight and scream until our voices were hoarse and throats scratchy. Nothing we ever did was simple." I whisper.

He runs his hands down his face, "What are you saying Fiona?"

Reaching out my hand rests against his cheek. "I think that I finally want for you what you want for yourself." I whisper my voice so low I doubt he heard it, but the sharp intake of air tells me he did. I pull my hand away and turn.

"Why…what do you mean?"

I blink back tears, "we both know that you'll never get back in with me around. It just isn't going to happen. I'm a liability. I'm the…"

"Stop it!"

"Michael."

"Stop."

"I'm the noose around your neck." I say. I'm staring intently into his eyes, as he stares back at me his eyes filling with tears.

"Don't you say that." He's blinking back his tears. His voice full of anger. "Don't use the CIA as a reason to walk away from me…from us."

"They are the reason I'm walking away. They aren't an excuse. They are the reason."

Anger flares in his eyes and I can see the wheels of his brain turning, trying to figure out his way out. It's what he's always been good at. He's slick. He can talk his way out of things.

"I'd like to blame it on timing and say that it was a wrong place, wrong time type of situation," I say, "Maybe if we met later in life when we were better for each other, things would've worked out the way we hoped they would."

"Fi, I know we haven't had the easiest time lately, but as soon as I get this guy…"

"But sometimes Michael, people just don't fit together no matter what you do or how hard you try. "

"We do fit Fiona."

"Here's the cold, hard truth if you cared about me, you would let me know. When you have a place in someone's heart, they will make sure you know it. It is not my job to play detective and try to figure out how you feel or what you want. You've made it clear for the last seven years that the CIA is what you want. It's what you've always wanted."

Leaning up I silence his reply with a kiss…our last kiss. "Goodbye Michael."

"Fiona, please..."