Disclaimer:
I do not own Burn Notice nor Michael Westen or Fiona Glenanne or Sam Axe. They belong to USA channel and Matt Nix. The purpose of this is just some fun.

Regular people don't really listen to other people when they're talking. Truth is, most of the time they just wait until their turn to speak. When you're a spy, though, you're used to get someone to talk until you get all the info you need. Sometimes this "someone" needs just a drink, other times some torture and spanking, but some people you just can't crack.

Fiona was, as always, already sitting on the kitchen table by the time Michael got back from his morning jog. Also not surprising, she was eating of of his strawberry yogurts. That was okay, Michael was used to that, they shared a relationship a few years back, some yogurts now seemed like perfectly acceptable. Or it was when he found out it was the last of his yogurts.

- "Five yogurts, Fi..."

- "I was hungry, Michael."

- "I'm sure you were", he said after a pause for a deep breath, "now I am hungry and there's no yogurt left on the freezer."

- "That's a good opportunity for us to go out for lunch", she replied while she got off the table. "Come on, Michael, I know you want your job back, but you also need to eat and since I'm here I thought..."

- "You thought you could eat all my yogurts and take me to lunch."

- "Exactly, so why don't we...". She wasn't able to keep up with the sentence. Her cellphone was ringing. It was odd cause Michael was standing right in front of her and he's usually the one calling. He had never seen her answering a call near him. And he was pretty sure it wasn't Sam. It was too early for Sam to be up on a Sunday.

She carefully took it from her purse and gave it a stare Michael had never seen it before. She whitered a little bit, which was weird to see for she was always with that Miami resident tan.

- "I've got to... take this... outside, just a second, Michael".

- "Fiona, who..."

- "Just a second, I will be right back."

He didn't know any of her friends. He didn't know any of her acquaintances. Some of them, okay. Seymour and that guy Campbell. If he had to bet, he'd bet on Campbell, against his will. Surely he wasn't jealous. Was he?
But it happened as she had told him. She came back just a few minutes after she left. Already on her natural tan. He didn't ask her about her phone call, not with his lips anyway. She glanced at him and faked her best smile.

- "So, what do you tell me? Lunch? Is that okay?"

- "Sure thing, Fi. So..."

- "So what?"

- "Fi..."

- "Yes, Michael?!"

- "You can do better than this."

She threw her cell phone with anger inside her purse.

- "Are you coming or not?"

- "No, I'm not. I wouldn't ask, Fi, but you look worried. And when you're worried, that probably means danger. Did you forget what happened the last time you had that look?"

- "I hitted your face, by any chance?"

- "Well, there was some punching, it just wasn't you who was punching me."

- "Sounds good enough."

That was followed by an awkward silence. They stared at each other for a minute but it surely felt like a whole hour.

- "Are you coming?"

- "No, I'm not going right now."

- "To hell, then".

Oh, Michael would go alright.