Disclaimer – I do not own any of the Burn Notice characters. I am just a huge fan and like to imagine other scenarios the characters might find themselves in.
A/N – This is just a one-shot that I came up with in my head today as I was lamenting over the fact that the season is over. If it's received well, I may add others to it, so if you like what you are reading, please leave me a review!! Thanks for reading!
As a spy, you don't have a whole lot of people that you can trust. But those that you do trust, you trust completely, with your life. And you can guarantee that those in whom you place that trust, feel the same way about you. Spies often use each other as a sort of safety net. When you have a situation, who do you call? Your trusted buddy.
Michael was sitting on his green chair eating a blueberry yogurt, dreading the evening to come. Madeleine had been bugging him all week, complaining that she hadn't seen him in "a long time." A long time being a few days. She had called him earlier in the day pleading with him to come over for dinner that night. "And bring Sam and Fiona," she said. "I miss you guys, Michael. It's too lonely here all by myself." He groaned, agreeing to show up in time for dinner.
His cell phone started ringing and he dreaded answering it, thinking it was his mother with some kind of grocery list of things for him to pick up "since you're on your way over anyway." She always had a way of getting him to bring over any number of things so she could avoid going to get them herself. To his pleasure, the caller ID showed it was Fiona.
"Fi!" Michael answered happily. "It's good to hear your -"
"Michael, I have a situation," Fiona responded in a somber voice. "I need you."
"Is everything okay? What happened?"
"I… can't explain it over the phone. Just come quick. I'm at my place." Click, she'd hung up.
Michael raced to the charger and made it to Fiona's condo in half the time it normally would have taken him. He found the door locked, snatched the key from his pocket and let himself in, gun in his right hand.
When you don't know what kind of situation you are walking into, it's best to always be prepared.
Michael scanned the apartment and saw no sign of Fiona. "Fi?" he called out for her cautiously, thinking the worst.
"In here, Michael." Her muffled voice came from her bedroom.
There was nothing in the world that could have prepared him for the scene he was about to walk in on.
He pushed the door open cautiously, gun still at the ready. What he saw made him put the gun away and stand there with a puzzled look on his face.
Fiona was seated in the middle of the bed. Scattered around here were tons of various dipsticks and test strips all over the bed.
"We have a problem, Michael. It's bad. It's so bad." Her voice was starting to waver.
"What is it, Fi? What's wrong?" He was still trying to make sense of the mess spread around her, not quite understanding what was going on.
"They're all positive, Michael!! Every damned one of them!"
"What's positive, Fi? Tell me what happened!" He got more demanding as he was starting to lose his cool.
"I've tried different brands, using different methods, and at all different times of the day. But they're still all positive." He looked closer at her and saw that her face had a blank look on it, as if she were miles and miles away.
Michael got very concerned then. It was not like Fiona to behave this way. This was not the fiery–tempered ex-girlfriend that he had known and loved. He kneeled down on the bed and got closer to eye level, scanning all the items around them. His worry was that Fiona had been exposed to some kind of chemical contaminant. He placed his hands on her shoulders and got right in her face, shaking her gently to snap her out of whatever she was in.
"Fi. Fi! Fiona!!" he shouted. "What is this? How bad? What have you been exposed to?"
She looked up at him with a mortified look on her face. "Oh, it's bad, Michael. I'm pregnant."
It then dawned on him that all these things he was looking at, they were all pregnancy tests. Each and every one had two lines, or a plus sign.
"You're pregnant?" he asked incredulously. Suddenly, he burst out laughing.
"Why are you laughing? What's so funny?" Fiona demanded, now showing her characteristic spitfire personality.
Michael let out a breath of relief. "I thought you had been contaminated with some kind of chemical toxin! But you're okay. You're just pregnant." He started chuckling again.
Fiona picked up a handful of pregnancy test dipsticks and tossed them at him.
"It's not funny, Michael!" she said. A few tears brimmed to the surface of her eyes.
Michael realized he was being insensitive. He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly.
"This situation? It's not so bad, Fi. We'll handle it. Everything is going to be okay."
"It is?" she asked.
"It is," he replied. "Haven't I always taken care of you?"
"You have."
"Hey, what are you doing for dinner tonight?"
Suddenly, he was dreading his visit to Madeleine even more.
As a spy, when a situation has an unknown surprise? Sometimes you just have to go with the flow and trust that everything will work out for the best.