A/N: We would like to thank everyone for their incredibly enthusiastic response to our new series. We very much appreciate it. This is what fan fiction is all about, giving the fans what they want in a believable in character context. We're so glad you are enjoying reading it as much as we are enjoying writing it.

Reconnecting is a series one shot rated M moments that fills in the blanks between the chapters of Puppies, Kittens & Gun Toting Babies, when Mike and Fiona are finally able to "reconnect," as Michael likes to say (and do!)

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First up is the continuation of 7.01 We'll Always Have Paris - Part 2 - Enjoy!

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She didn't answer with words at first. She met his sincere gaze and then kissed him, long and slow, feeling the brush of his new beard against her face and reveling in it. She let her feelings build up along with the intensity of their kiss before she had the courage to say the words first.

"Yes, because I love you, Michael," she told him, staring him directly in the eyes. "Love you, Mikhal."

The look on his face said it all, but this time he did more than let his expression do the talking.

"I need you, Fi. I always have," he smiled at the pout starting to form before he added. "More importantly,I love ya, me darlin' girl. More than all tha gold at tha end o' tha rainbow."

Her answering smile was dazzling. Their mouths met as he slowly pushed her back down onto the mattress, sweeping the documents aside with his right hand as he supported the back of her head with his left. A contented sigh leaked out from between their locked lips and he broke the kiss and grinned widely, brushing the back of his hand over her cheek. They were almost there. Just a few more things to accomplish and they would start their new life.

Tears started to gather in the corners of her eyes again, still swollen and puffy from her previous crying jag, but probably no worse than his own were right now. He noticed then how exhausted she looked, thinner than she should have been with cheekbones almost jutting and so much paler than the tan beauty he had asked to move in with him.

"Fi?" he question as he thumbed away the water from her face. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she beamed. "Something is very right. I just… I'm just tired."

"You must be," Michael agreed as he reached across to gather up the precious passports and deposited them in the night stand drawer. "Take a nap," he urged.

"I just woke up," she disagreed and then stifled a yawn.

"Me stubborn Irish lass," he chuckled as he rolled over the top of her body without putting any of the weight of his upon her. Landing in the middle of the mattress on his back, her lover pulled her to him and she snuggled up against his side, her head on his broad chest, her shoulder tucked under his arm and hand splayed out over his abdomen in a gesture reminiscent of what he had done to her moments ago.

"Be glad am too tired ta kick yar ass," she slurred and settled in.

"I thought you forgave me." The humor was evident in his voice and then he kissed the top of her head. "Go ta sleep, me darlin' girl. We have tha rest o' our lives fer ya ta tame me."

Fiona didn't want to sleep, but her body had other ideas and she relaxed in his embrace.

As such, it was some time later before press of lips to a particularly sore spot on her neck penetrated her consciousness. Why am I so damned tired? I don' remember Bella or Rose being this rundown. It felt like all she had done was sleep. At least the nausea had settled down and she wondered absently if the doctor had given her something for it.

Doctor… There had been a doctor here… and Michael had been here…. Helping her undress?

"Shhh…." The sound of his voice, buzzing right next to her ear, cleared away all the confusion. He was there, lying next to her, spooned up against her, the warmth of his body pressing against the length of hers was comforting and she let out a relieved sigh.

"How long…?" Fiona questioned, realizing that sometime while she had been out, she'd been moved to another room. This had to be the master suite with its ridiculously oversized sleeping accommodations and the luxurious appointments of the rest of the suite.

"Have you been asleep? A couple of hours give or take."

She closed her eyes again. It felt like she would sleep until they got to wherever they were going. Then it dawned on her. She had no idea at all where they were going.

And she decided she didn't care. When they got there, they would be Mikhal and Josephine. But for right now, they were just Michael and Fiona, finally free, finally together, finally alone!

And with that tantalizing thought fresh in her mind, her traitorous body took the rest of her away to dream land. Michael wanted to join her; however, even though he had seen his friend off as well as the doctor and they were out to sea, he still couldn't relax. Any one of the crew could betray them; though he highly doubted it, the possibility was still there.

He swept her hair away from her shoulder again, kissing softly over the angry red mark on her neck. It made him crazy that they had drugged her, but there nothing he could do to change it now. He tried to focus on the fact that she was lying here in his arms in the relative safety of his asset's yacht, especially now that he knew the real reason behind her illnesses. His right hand drifted over her exposed stomach and rubbed small, gentle, lazy circles over her belly.

When the doctor had first asked to see him and had subsequently told him to help remove Fiona's clothes so she could check on "his new bride," he had for one brief irrational second thought that the doctor was looking for signs of sexual assault and his blood had boiled.

Apparently what he'd been thinking was all too clear on his face because, after they had changed her clothes, he had excused himself and Dr. Basheer had let him go quite willingly.

Thinking about the first good look he'd had of her in months, never mind naked, had him stiffening in one critical place and he felt like a bastard for wanting to grope his lover while she was passed out. He hadn't done it to anyone else, even as a teenager; it seemed just wrong to do it to her now. That and the fact that she was just as likely to deck him, or worse yet hurt herself trying to if he woke her up that way, it seemed to him he would just have to bide his time until she came around. It had been months already, he could wait a little longer.

As he stroked her impossibly soft yet still firm abdomen, he wondered at his own reaction to the news he was going to be a father. He tried to untangle the puzzle with the same resolve he had used pursuing his burn notice and maybe that was the answer. Michael Westen, burned spy, reinstated spy, re-rejected spy, hated traitor, subject of a national manhunt, could never be someone's father. Even Victor Roshenko had too many enemies to contemplate a family. But Mikhal Zolnerowich… that man could have a pregnant wife without it being a death sentence for everyone involved, that man could hold his wife and unborn child and be happy.

"Thot feels nice," she murmured low and lilting, rubbing her whole body and her backside in particular against him.

"Does it now?" Michael queried "An' just which part are ya referrin' ta, me luv?"

"All o' it," she purred as he bucked his hips slightly.

"I thought ya war sleeping, me beauty. But since yer not…"

His hand slid upwards, blazing a trail of fire along her skin as it slipped under the white cotton top, pushing it out of the way. He palmed his left breast, still surprised how much larger and rounder it had become even though he'd already seen the evidence of that earlier on.

She was no longer only a handful. Flexing his fingers and stroking his thumb over her already hardened nipple, Fiona squirmed against him, putting friction against his rapidly hardening member. Her low moans and movement when straight to the root of him.

"Yer quite…" he began with a twinge of wonder as he nipped and lapped at the "sensitive…" place where her neck and shoulder met, his new beard skimming along her flesh and leaving additional goose bumps as he continued to massage the mound of flesh in his palm.

Fiona couldn't believe how intense the feelings were as his hand shifted to cover her right breast now, which was just enlarged and hard as the other side. She'd seen it happen to others, heard the remarks from her sister-in-laws, but still couldn't wrap her hand around how much more powerful the sensations were now. Of course, the time apart probably…

She was momentarily distracted as his palm slid down her body again and glided over her mound towards the hem of her white cotton skirt. Pulling the garment up over her hips as he rose up on one elbow, she sighed as his mouth left her neck and he guided her onto her back.

The dark haired man smiled down at her and the Irish woman couldn't believe how different he looked with that mane of black hair and thick beard he was sporting. Just imagining how that would feel between her legs drew a deep hum from somewhere in her chest.

"Do ya like whot ya see then?"

He stole away whatever answer she'd intended to give as his mouth descended to cover hers in a passionate kiss and he caressed her hip bones and rubbed against the flesh between them before his long fingers threaded through the fine hair between her legs.

Since prison, there had been little time to wax and further, he'd asked her not to. She wasn't sure why, but it had been convenient to not deal with it while they had been on the run for their lives. As his middle digit penetrated her folds, his tongue brushed against her teeth until she opened her mouth to him.

His warm wet tongue moved in time with his exploration of the essence of her being as her legs fell open and made room for him to move. He captured her moans with his own mouth, kissing her deeply as their old dance for dominance began in earnest.

Michael wanted to just take her, the urge to be slamming into her almost too much to control, but he couldn't do that to this woman who lie beneath him, looking at him with so much love as he broke the kiss. He began to press his lips to her neck, her ear and then her clavicle as his hand continued to work its magic, his palm pressing on her most sensitive spot while his middle finger penetrated her.

Faster than she thought possible, she was seeing stars and gasping his name as she planted her feet and pushed up against the divine pressure on her womanhood. He continued to kiss her face and nuzzle her hair as shivered against him and tried to get her breathing under control. Light, almost smug, laughter left him as he rubbed his nose against the shell of her ear and his beard scraped along her cheekbone.

"Ya seem quite sure o' yarself," she remarked breathlessly and he chuckled softly in response.

"War ya not satisfied? Well, let me take care o' thot then."

He sat up then and pulled the blue dress shirt off, followed by his white undershirt. Fiona's eyes roamed over his chest, noting how much thinner he was, how much more defined his muscles were. She reached out a hand and let her fingers wander up the taut ridges of his abdomen until she splayed her hand out over his chest and let one of her thumbs scrape across his own hardened nipple. She was pleased when he jerked and beamed at him.

"oh, thar'll be enough time fer thot, don'cha worry, me girl."

The sound of his lilting voice, so deep and husky, brought another wave of heat to her already aching core. "Take all yar clothes off," she ordered. "I wan' ta see ya."

"Ladies first," he countered. Although the sight of her lying open to him, her top pushed up above her heaving breasts and her skirt spread upon her belly, her legs and her sex bare was more than enough for him, Michael had to admit he wanted to see all of her, what little was left covered, as well.

She held up her arms and he pulled her and her top up in one smooth motion. Sitting up together, they melted into an embrace, kissing passionately as their chests mutually molded as one, sending fire racing through the pair of them, their emotions and their nerves ablaze.

Fiona let out a sound of satisfaction that was practically a purr as they broke apart.

He reached out to cup her cheek in his palm, blue eyes boring into blue green.

"I've missed you so much," he confessed.

"Good," she countered evenly. "I hope yer remember how thot feels, cuz I don' think I'll ever fergit whot it felt like ta think I'd lost ya fer good," and she started to tremble at that.

"Oh, Fi, I—"

"Don' apologize," she said simply. "Jus' don' leave me ever again."

"I promise."

He took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly as he lowered her back down onto the bed. Then he reached down to grasp the waistband of the skirt and tugged it over her hips as she lifted and cast it aside. "You're so beautiful," he told her with all the love he could muster.

The dark haired man stood by the edge of the bed and made short work of his pants and boxers before lowering the lights with a tiny remote. He took a moment to ensure that the door was indeed locked and then another to admire the beyond king-sized bed in their room.

In the meantime, Fiona let her eyes glide appreciatively over his naked form, something she hadn't seen fully or openly in months, allowing her gaze to linger on his dripping manhood being so prominently being displayed before her as he climbed back onto the mattress.

As he covered her body with his, a shiver ran through her whole frame, drawing an answering groan from him that was satisfied with all the shades of meaning the word could possibly have. They both reveled in the full skin on skin contact, her hands skimming his sides and his back.

Michael pushed himself up onto his elbows and began to move down her body, kissing, licking and nipping along the way from her neck to her enlarged and aching breasts. As he dropped his head towards the left one, mouthing the mound of soft flesh and being pleasantly not surprised that he could no longer draw almost all of it in, his hand covered her right one, the sensitive nub caught between his thumb and forefinger. He palmed her breast and squeezed the hardened peak in a rhythm with his lapping and suckling on the other such that she was writhing underneath him in no time, her thighs rubbing vigorously on his erection pinned between her legs.

When he stopped, they were both gasping for air. He knew he would not last if he kept that up much longer.

"Would ya fuck me already?" It was supposed to be a demand, but it came out more like a plea. His white teeth grinned from amidst his whiskers and his blue eyes sprinkled at the needy whine in her voice. Fair enough, he was already hard enough to cut diamonds himself.

But…

"Not yet, me darlin', yar patience will be rewarded."

As his mouth trailed hot kisses down her flesh, she shivered again in anticipation of what was to come. He almost slid off the end of the bed and settled between her legs, as she raised them up, laying her limbs along his shoulders. Michael turned and scraped his teeth lightly over her inner thighs each in turn, making sure to rub his face and beard enticingly along the soft flesh there.

By the time he was kissing her properly, Fiona was already writhing uncontrollably, her heads woven in his large black hair, tugging and pulling almost painfully as he lapped at her folds and gave extra attention to her special spot while she pressed herself into him. Her legs tightened against his shoulders as her moans turned into deep, loud, guttural groans.

Her lover had no more than slipped two fingers inside her when she came with a cry of his name on her lips, her muscles pulsing and squeezing against the digits as her fingers tangled in his hair with a jerk. He almost came himself watching her, but her dark haired lover was more than determined to enjoy every moment of their reunion properly,

Michael slowly climbed back up towards the head of the bed, stroking lightly with his hands and brushing his lips over all her as her muscles continued to quiver. He gathered her into his arms, hugging her tightly with his engorged length pressed firmly into her belly. That brought small smirk to his face, thinking about what they had created together that was inside her right now. It made him want to enter into her depths again and never leave. He realized once again that he'd always felt the safest and most satisfied in his world when he was wrapped in her intimate embrace and he longed to be there.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded an affirmation rather than speak and that caused him to chuckle softly again.

He eased her onto her back yet again as he used his knee to tease her legs apart. She opened herself to him willingly, just as eager as he was to feel him inside her once more. As he positioned himself at her entrance, he latched onto her mouth and pushed his tongue in, exploring the wet softness while he eased his harden length into the delicious wet warmth of her core, stopping only when he was fully sheathed in the center of her being.

The feeling was indescribable. Despite all the sex they had had over the years, there was something special and exhilarating beyond the norm, which had been pretty spectacular on its own. Fiona had known the loss of him all too many times and to be with him again intimately after she had been sure he was lost to her forever as almost more than she could bear.

When Michael started moving against her, a slow, deliberate, almost reluctant to have it end motion, she felt the wetness gather in her eyes. But as she looked up at him with all the love in her heart written on her face, she noted his eyes were also shining from devotion and unshed tears. She let her hands drift along his supple back muscles to rest on his perfect bottom, squeezing the taut flesh and urging him onward with her nails, such that they were.

"I love you," she told him as he stroked faster, the pleasant sensation of him filling her in a way that only came from being with this man sang out along every nerve in her body. She wanted to keep him there with her as they were right now, but yet she always wanted more of him. It was a delicious paradox that Fiona never wanted to solve, just explore for as long as she was allowed to live. She was already floating on a sea of bliss, her senses almost whited out as she came yet again and he began to shake and thrust harder as his orgasm took him.

As the aftershocks shot through him, he felt a profound sense of bliss that was both relief for the end of their ordeal and the joy of belonging to someone who had loved him in spite of everything he had done and had been. He didn't know how long he had lain on her, enfolded in her embrace, arms and legs squeezing him tight, welcoming him home, shuddering as his muscles continued to twitch, but he knew one thing beyond all things at that moment.

"I love ya, me darlin' girl," he whispered as he got his voice under control again.

"More than all tha gold at tha end o' tha rainbow," she finished, kissing him passionately again, content to stay there with him forever.