Hello! Wow. I can't believe I am finally posting this! This has taken me awhile, because I wanted to make sure I got all my facts right and that there were no errors or mistakes. If you haven't already, please read my already finished story called She's Gone and Not Coming Back, which is also a Burn Notice fan fic. Also, please comment, favorite, and follow. I really appreciate hearing feedback! But for now, just sit, relax, and enjoy! :)

A beautiful young Irish woman sits at a cafe table in Dublin, Ireland. She has very tan skin, and her long wavy brown hair hangs beneath her large sunhat. She wears a long chocolate brown sun dress, that flows just above her ankles revealing her open toe high-healed sandals. She sits cross legged sipping her favorite drink of a Bloody Mary. Her big dark sunglasses hide most of her facial expression but you can tell that she seems bored, sad even. As people walk by, they smile at her. Mostly men, winking or raising an eyebrow. She never smiles back or even looks up, even though she goes to the cafe every afternoon. She was either to caught up in her own thoughts, or non of the men had ever appealed to her. Until that one day. That one day where she did smile back, and it had changed her life forever.

A handsome young man in a tan suit and a sky blue dress shirt walks through the streets of Dublin, Ireland. His shoes make a clicking sound on the cobblestone pavement as he surveys his surroundings. His chestnut brown hair is spiked up just a little in the front, and his big aviator sunglasses cover up most of his face. He wears no facial expression, and even the most observative people would see no emotion. As he nears a cafe, he see's a beautiful young woman. She has long flowing bronze colored hair that is partially hidden by her gigantic sunhat. But he notices that something is off about her. At first he is confused, but then it hits him. She is using spy techniques. Her eyes look side to side every so often, and her chair is positioned in a way that she could see behind her because of the reflection in a parked car's rear view mirror. He stops walking for a second, staring, but then starts walking again, flustered. This woman could also be a undercover agent for the CIA, or she could be for another government! He thinks. He stops again to stare at her. At first glance, he just saw that she was pretty. But now, now he see's all of her gorgeous features come together. Her soft, pink lips. Her tan, skinny legs. Her boldness with her presence. He had never seen a woman look so fierce and alive by just sitting at a cafe. He looks up and realizes that she is staring back at him. He smiles, a small smile that he rarely showes. And she smiled back, her perfect pink lips just curling up on one end in a shy grin. He was about to go in and sit next to her, but then reality hits him. He starts to walk away quickly, staring at the cobblestone pattern. This woman could be very dangerous for you, he thinks. Spy's aren't allowed to fall in love. His head tells him. But his heart differs. Suddenly, he stops, turns on his heels, and starts walking back to the cafe.

She had seen the man walking by the cafe. He was dressed nicely, but way to nice to be just strolling through the streets in Dublin. She had also noticed something. He was too careful. He had surveyed the area as he walked, and he had checked her parked car's rear view mirror to see if there was anyone behind him. But she had also saw something else in him. His handsome spiked up hair. His sharp, piercing blue eyes that she could just make out through his dark aviator sunglasses. If she hadn't looked so closely, she would have thought he was also Irish. But something about his air screamed american. She had loved everything about him, but she had to look away. He could be very dangerous. He could be working for the U.S. government, spying on the IRA, she thought. But as soon as she looked away, she had to look again. But this time, he was staring at her. And then he smiled. He didn't wink, or raise an eyebrow, he just flat out smiled one of the cutest smiles she had ever seen. So, she smiled shyly back. Something she had never done before to a stranger since her younger sister Claire had been killed. She felt like it had been her fault that her sister died, so she vowed to just live life without happiness or love. But right at this moment, she had broken that promise. And it felt good to be happy again. She looks down, ashamed. "I'm sorry Claire." She whispers. But then she looks up realizing the handsome man had gone. She's look backs down at her drink disappointed that he left, but also ashamed of herself. Just as she starts to get up to leave, she see's him emerge from the crowds in his smooth tan suits, and she abruptly sits down, trying to act casual.

The handsome man walks up to her table and asks, "May I sit?" He says in a Irish accent, smiling that special smile of his and pointing at the chair across from her. Huh, She thinks. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he is Irish.

"Of course." She says, smiling graciously with a strong Irish accent. The man pulls the chair back and sits down.

"Are you from here from here?" He asks casually.

"Yes, my whole family is. We grew up here." She replies smiling, a spark in her eyes. "What about you?" She asks.

He hesitates for a second, then says "Yes. I did too." He says,

"Really?" She asks using a slightly accusatory tone. Why would he lie? She thinks.

The man just nods his head. "Do you like that drink?" He asks her, motioning to her Bloody Mary.

"Yes," She replies, nodding her head. "It's my favorite. So, what do you do for a living?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

He hesitates again, but finally says "It's complicated. What do you do?"

"Its complicated." She says mimicking him. He smirks for a second, but then returns to his serious face. "I forgot to ask," The woman says. "Whats your name?"

"I'm Michael. Michael McBride." Michael replies.

"Nice to meet you ." She says, smiling sweetly. "I'm Fiona, Fiona Glenanne."

"Glenanne. Thats a very popular Irish last name." Michael replies.

"So is McBride." Fiona replies. Michael smirks again.

"Nice to see you, Fiona. I'll see you later, I need to go." Michael starts to leave, but Fiona touches his arm.

"Wait. How will I ever see you again?" She asks.

Michael looks uncomfortable, but then pulls out his phone which Fiona recognizes as a burner phone. She's about to ask him why he would need one, because she uses them too. Almost untraceable, and easy to discard. I was right, She thinks. There is something different about him. Just as she's about to ask him, he gives her a slip of paper with a number on it. "Ill call you later." He says, smiling that adorable smile of his. Then he was gone before she could say goodbye. Fiona smiles to herself. Huh, She thinks. Then she gets up, grabbing her purse. If only he knew what I do for a living. She thinks chuckling to herself.