Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it.

All Those Years Ago

By WritePassion

"Mikey!"

After all he'd been through, the sound of Sam's voice calling him was like music to Michael Westen's ears. He scanned the travelers moving toward the main concourse ahead of him, and like a beacon on a lighthouse, he saw the graying head above all the others. "Sam!" He waved over his head, and Sam repeated the gesture while wearing a grin that showed bright against his tan. Everything faded as he focused on his best friend, including the memory of several brutal days of travel it took to get home. He wasn't sure if anyone would be waiting for him, but he should have known better. Sam would know, somehow, and he would never let him down. The crowd parted enough for Michael to push through, and he stopped a few feet away from Sam, frowning. Fiona wasn't there. He tried to hide his disappointment by focusing on his friend and smiling for him, but it was a useless gesture.

Sam knew exactly what was going through his head. His mouth turned down and he said, "I'm sorry, Mike. Fi's still mad at you. We've tried everything we can think of to try to convince her that it was your only choice to go back to the Agency, but she doesn't believe it." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Where'd she go," Michael asked, swallowing a lump of regret.

"Last time I spoke with Fi she was in the Keys. If it's any consolation, I don't think she's going to leave Florida. She doesn't wanna get that far from your home base." Sam's eyes locked on his. "Fiona loves you, man, and as much as she fights it, she knows it's futile. She'll never get over you, and she'll never be happy until you two are together. Forever."

"We're not..."

Sam cut him off. "Oh, don't give me that speech about you two not being good for each other. That's a crock of bull, and you know it!" He poked Michael in the chest with his index finger. "Face it, pal, the best years we've all had have been when you and Fi were together with me, and Jesse, on the fringe. Even on the run last year, you gotta admit, it was good between you two."

"I'm afraid I wasn't very good to her for a long time."

"There's always a way to make up for it. If you can guarantee to Fi that you're done with the CIA, and you prove it, I know she'll give you that chance."

"But I"m not done yet."

"When you are, then we work on Operation Fi-Union." Sam gave him a reassuring smile. "Now, come on, let's go get your luggage and I'll take you over to your Ma's. She's dying to see you."

"I'm kind of surprised she didn't come along." His head was constantly on the move, sliding left, right, and all around as he walked beside Sam. Being aware of his surroundings had become so ingrained in Michael that he couldn't go anywhere without employing his wariness.

"She had a water aerobics class with Tina. You remember her? That old lady in county records that we almost got fired?"

"Oh yeah, I remember her."

"Tina and your Ma have been hanging out a lot since you left. Maddie's been a good influence on her, and Tina keeps her from getting depressed and lonely." Sam paused and turned toward the carousel where bags tumbled off a conveyor onto the moving belt. "I've been keeping in touch with Maddie, and Elsa and I have had her over a few times, but having you home for awhile, it's gonna be great for her."

"She's not going to the doctor all the time, is she?" Michael couldn't recall paying for any of her bills recently, not like before he was burned and came home seven years ago.

Sam laughed. "Just wait, Mike. You'll see how strong she is now. She doesn't need all that crap."

"Good." He homed in on a bag coming around a curve and grabbed the handle as it meandered past him. "This is it, Sam. My only bag."

"Great! Now let's try to get out of this crowd." Sam led the way and Michael followed, and soon they found themselves outside the mass of bodies. Sam rubbed the underside of his nose with his fist. "Dang, Mike, how'd you handle that... smell? I think the Agency oughtta give you a medal for putting up with that!"

Michael replied and took a quick sniff of his suit jacket. "I think the only thing I can do is burn this."

Sam risked leaning over and getting a whiff, and he grimaced. "Yeah. Put that on your expense report. New Armani suit."

"Sam, how did you know I was coming home? I didn't call you."

With a smile, Sam replied, "Dani Pearce told me what flight you were coming in on. I couldn't very well abandon you to the psycho cabbies in this town, now, could I?"

"Thanks, Sam. I've had enough harrowing experiences lately."

Michael was pleased that he and Sam didn't have to go far outside the terminal to reach their transportation. Sam parked the Cadillac in the short term lot and found a space close to the entrance. His bag wasn't very big, but he'd stuffed it. It was heavy, which Sam discovered when he picked it up to throw into the trunk.

As he slammed the lid, Sam asked with a teasing grin, "What, trying to give me a hernia, Mikey?"

Grinning, Michael replied, "It's all those souvenirs I obtained in Pakistan."

Sam's eyebrow went up. "Souvenirs... for Fi? How'd you get 'em past customs?"

"No, it's not for Fi. Before I go home, we have to make a stop at the Agency office and drop off the presents I brought back." Michael opened the passenger side door and got into Sam's car. "Let's get this over with, fast."

Sam looked at him sideways. "You don't have anyone following you who's interested in your little tchotchkes, do you? Because I'd really hate to have to get into a chase and risk cracking up the Caddy. Elsa will kill me."

"Not that I know of. Let's just make sure that doesn't happen."

Sam started the car and backed out of the parking space. "You don't have to ask me twice, Brother!"

Watching the scenery pass, Michael realized that he'd taken it all for granted. Living on airplanes and hiding in hotels with hard beds and scratchy linens, chasing and being chased, made him appreciate what he'd left behind. He was actually looking forward to seeing his mother. Maybe it was some strange psychosis settling in after so many years of spying. When he stepped out of Sam's car and stood on the concrete driveway at her house, he saw her through the back screen door. She was bent over at the waist pulling clothes from the dryer, her body angled so he saw her profile, intent on what she was doing.

Michael slammed the door and she shot up straight as if the sound had been a gunshot, and she turned toward the screen. From his position nearing the door he noted the momentary shock and caution in her eyes that scanned the landscape until they lit on him. Then they widened.

"Michael, honey?" She stammered the question, dropping the dry clothes into a wash basket and pushing the screen open. Her feet tripped down the stairs and she launched herself into his arms. "Oh, Michael! I can't believe it's you. You're here!" She blubbered into his stinky suit and didn't care.

"It's me, Ma. I'm home for a little while." He nested his chin into the crook of her neck and basked in the tightness of her arms around his back. He hadn't felt a hug that strong from her in years.

"How long," she asked as he pulled away far enough to see his face. One hand rose and caressed his cheek where the remnants of a bruise still lay beneath the layers of skin.

"Two weeks. Maybe three, depending on what the Agency thinks of the delivery I made before Sam and I got here." He smiled. "It doesn't matter, Ma. I'm here for now, so let's make the best of the time we have."

Maddie looked worried as she declared, "Fiona's in the Keys. Did Sam tell you?"

He nodded. "I might have to go down there and find her. Alone." He hugged his mother and said, "But not before we spend some time together."

"We'll talk about that, honey. First, you need to get out of those clothes and take a bath. You reek!"

Michael laughed. "If you'd spent seventeen hours wedged in a seat like cattle on a plane with a bunch of ripe Pakistanis, you wouldn't smell so rosy either."

With a wide grin on her face and a gentle hand, she pushed him toward the back door. "Go on, get in there!"

"I'm, uh, gonna take off, Mike. Elsa and I have a charity thing we have to go to tonight. She wants me to wear my old uniform," Sam reported with a snort.

"Does it still fit?" Michael's eyebrow rose as he quickly assessed his friend's frame.

"Of course. It's just been awhile since I've been in full dress, you know?"

Michael stopped and turned half way to address him. "You'll do fine, Sam. See you tomorrow?"

"Come for breakfast, if you're not too hung over," Maddie teased.

"I'll behave myself," Sam promised as he pointed at Michael. "And I'll see you tomorrow morning, eight thirty, nine o'clock?"

"Nine," Michael replied. "I think after I get cleaned up I'll want to crash until tomorrow morning. Sorry, Ma."

"That's okay," Maddie said, her face glowing with happiness. "I'm just glad you're home. See you tomorrow, Sam!"

Sam let out a sigh and held Michael back as Maddie turned to go inside. "It's good to have you home, Brother. Let's hope it's for longer than a couple weeks."

"Thanks, Sam." He flashed a smile unlike anything that anyone had seen on his face in awhile.

"You won't let anyone see it, but I know you. You're just about burnt out, and getting away from the CIA is the only way to save yourself." Michael didn't reply, but Sam knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't acknowledge it, even to his best friend, that he was long past tired. "I'll see you tomorrow, pal. Get some rest."

Michael followed Maddie inside, carrying his suitcase. He left it on the washer, gave Sam one last wave, and disappeared inside. Sam hurried to the car. As he drove back to the mansion, he noticed that the interior bore a slight stench of sweat and curry, and he made a mental note to have the car detailed before Elsa got in it. Good thing they were taking the limo to the charity event that night.

Sam had his reservations about wearing the old dress uniform, but it looked fine and so did he once he got into it. He was surprised how good it felt, fitting like a second skin. At least he wasn't wearing his whites, which reminded him of the last time when he found himself on trial and falling from grace. Brushing aside the bad memory, he smiled as he slipped the last button through its hole, catching sight of Elsa in her backless silver dress that swished and sparkled with every move. She moved across the room and put her earring in, all the while watching him with eyes smoldering. He was hot tonight, and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

"Aren't you glad I had you go for that fitting," she said as she captured him from behind, sliding her arms around and over his body, clasping her hands over his chest, trapping him in bonds he would never want to break. Her chin rested on his shoulder while her nose tickled the fine hairs at the back of his neck.

"I don't think this uniform has ever fit this good." His smile widened and he attempted to turn away from the mirror. "Be careful. You'll get lipstick on my shoulder, and then what will all the other women say?"

Elsa laughed, allowing him to turn to face her as she replied, "They'll know I branded you, that's what, and you're coming home with me."

As her hands roamed up his chest, taking her time sliding up to his shoulders, the engagement ring on her finger twinkled in the dressing room lights. By her standards it wasn't much, but the fact that it came honestly from his heart made it more precious than a ten carat bauble encrusted with diamonds. He kissed her, the fresh lipstick sealing their lips together. Later, she would complain in a half-hearted tone, and he would use his handkerchief to wipe away the remnants with a sly smile still on his lips. At the moment, neither of them cared.

"Sir, madame, the car is waiting." Reginald, the English butler, announced from just outside the open doors.

"We better get going," Elsa said when she broke the contact and slipped out of his grasp. She reached for her wrap that lay over the chair back, but Sam was faster. He plucked it up in two fingers and shook it out before he draped it over her shoulders. The look she gave him sent a tingle down to his toes, and his soft sigh came on a hope that she would never stop looking at him like that as the years went by.

"So, what is this for again," Sam asked as the two settled into the back of the limousine.

"It's a scholarship fundraiser for the kids of soldiers who are overseas." She shook her head. "Whenever I think of those poor kids, some of whom have both parents serving, and how much they miss..."

Talking around a lump in his throat, Sam spoke in a soft tone. "You don't have to tell me what that's like. I know."

Elsa must have detected the underlying anger in Sam's delivery, because she looked at him in the dim light coming through the windows. "I'm sorry, honey. I know you told me what it was like with your dad."

"It's okay. What's done is done, and I wouldn't be who I am today if he hadn't... abandoned... Mom and me." He turned his head away, and with false cheer said, "Hey, look. We're here already."

All talk of his childhood vanished as the car pulled up to the curb and the driver let Sam out. He held his hand out for Elsa, and she took it, squeezing it in a silent apology for uprooting sad memories. Photographers and onlookers huddled behind scarlet ropes, hoping to get a glimpse of a celebrity. They screamed and jumped in their excitement, but when they saw what they perceived as an ordinary couple, the volume lowered considerably. Still, the photographers' flashes lit up the red carpet and captured the smiles and looks that Sam and Elsa meant only for each other.

In the time he and Elsa had been together, Sam knew how this worked. After helping her onto the curb, he held his right arm at an angle. She slipped her hand into the crook of his bent arm and he walked beside her into the hotel where the event was taking place. It was a competitor, but on a night like this, such details were insignificant. Some people in the audience knew he wasn't a celebrity, but they recognized the stripes and decorations and nodded in respect. Sam nodded in return as he trotted up the stairs with Elsa, slipped his cap from his head, and entered through the wide open door with her.

Waiters wandered through the crowd with flutes of champagne. He grabbed one for Elsa and handed it to her and said, "I'm going to the bar for a mojito."

"You do that," Elsa replied with a smile. "I'll be over there talking with the mayor and his wife."

"Great." The moment she walked away, the smile melted from his face. He hated shindigs like this, and if it weren't for the fact that it was a fundraiser for service members' kids, he wouldn't be there.

"Commander Axe? Which moron promoted you?"

Sam turned, and recognition dawned in his eyes. "Lieutenant Dave Lenz." A glance at the man's epaulets, and he corrected himself. "Lieutenant Commander Lenz. Wow, long time no see." He reached out to shake his old friend's hand and was surprised to see a prosthetic come at him, but he hid it well, grasped the hook and shook it. "I haven't seen you since..."

"Afghanistan, when we were working with that spy, West something or other," Lenz replied.

"Yeah." Sam frowned, but then he pasted on a smile, because he really was glad to see him again. "Looks like that IED didn't do ya in."

Lenz barked out a laugh and reached for his drink. Sam picked up his, and they moved away from the bar. "Are you kidding? They couldn't make an IED that could kill me. Just made me a lefty, that's all." He grinned and touched his glass to the one Sam held in his left hand. "To lefties."

"The only right-minded people in the world," Sam finished with a grin and took a long sip. "So, you retired?"

"Of course. I've been out of it for ten years now. I couldn't handle desk duty anymore, so now I work on this charity helping with logistics for events." He nodded at Sam's hardware. "Nice to see one of us made it farther up the ranks."

Sam's smile widened. "It wasn't all that great, I can guarantee you that."

Lenz swallowed and said, "I heard what happened, from a friend. You don't know him. It sounded like you got railroaded, buddy."

Sam shrugged. "That's the way it goes." Feeling uncomfortable with the conversation's flow, Sam glanced around looking for Elsa. "Lot of guys like us here."

"It's probably guilt. Guys who had families stuck at home and they missed all those years with their kids. So they throw their money at the next generation." Lenz drained his glass. "I was smart. Never got hitched, never had any kids. No guilt. What about you?"

"No kids. I'm engaged," Sam replied, his eyes locking onto someone in the crowd. He was older, in his seventies, wearing a civilian suit with a military haircut. He laughed at something his conversation companion said, and for a moment, he appeared younger, as if forty years had been erased from his face. "Dad?"

"Huh? Sam, what'd you say?"

Lenz's question brought him back to reality. Sam shook his head and replied, "It's crazy. I saw some old guy who... never mind." He looked back where he'd seen him, but he was gone, walking away toward a woman who was just as old but he knew for a fact she wasn't his mother. It was his imagination playing tricks on him.

"Woah, look at that hottie over there." Lenz rubbed shoulders with Sam and jutted his chin in the woman's direction. "She's giving me the eye. See that?"

Sam turned and saw Elsa smiling at him, and he laughed. "I hate to burst your bubble, Dave, but that's my fiancee."

"No way!" Lenz stared and his brows furrowed.

"Way. And I'm guessing by the look on her face that she either wants to introduce me to the Mayor, or dance. I haven't quite figured out that smile yet." Sam grinned. "But I've got lots of time to work on it."

Lenz laughed and tapped Sam on the back with his prosthetic. "You go have fun. We'll have to catch up some other time."

"Sure." Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Here's my contact info."

"Thanks, Sam. Here's mine." Lenz dropped a card into Sam's palm. "Talk to you later, pal. And hey, see if your honey'll be willing to save a dance for me, huh?"

"Oh, you can dance now, huh?" Sam teased.

"I haven't broken any toes in awhile now, I promise."

Sam laughed, and he remembered the good times with the SEAL team taking shore leave in exotic, and sometimes not so exotic, locations. They'd left a lot of broken hearts behind, but only Dave could honestly say he'd left one girl with a cast on her foot. Sam waved and turned back toward where Elsa waited. He saw the mystery man again out of the corner of his eye, and when his gaze lingered too long, he ran into someone.

"Sorry." He skirted around the woman and continued forward to meet Elsa, ignoring the ghost in the room.