Notes: I set this during Season 1 post-Mabby and there are references to Season 1. This was originally posted on Tumblr as a prompt fill.

Mike didn't have a problem with going to karaoke bars, so when Paige had asked him if he wanted to check one out that was not run by a Korean arms dealer, he had said yes. She had brought him to a little hole-in-the-wall place while the others had gone to The Drop. He knew Paige's invitation was nothing more than an attempt to get his mind off his recent breakup with Abby, but he had been fine with that. He didn't even mind so much when it came to listening to people sing karaoke. No, what he had a problem with was being the one doing the singing.

"No way," he said when Paige suggested he take a turn at the microphone. "I'm fine right here." He gestured to his bottle of beer on his and Arkin's table.

"Come on. I've never heard you sing. What if you're hiding some secret talent?"

He scoffed. "Trust me on this one. I can't sing."

"That's the thing about karaoke. It's supposed to be bad. You might even like it."She tugged on his arm. "Come on. It's just us. If you bomb, I won't tell a soul. Promise."

He relented with a sigh and followed her as she began leading the way to the deejay, wondering what he was getting himself into.

"Hey, Dan. This is my friend, Mike. Let him look through the binder and go easy on him, okay? He's a karaoke virgin." The DEA agent gave Warren a wink, which he pretended to ignore, although he couldn't help feeling his heart lighten a little at the playful gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Mike." Dan, a heavyset man with a shaved head, passed him a thick binder containing laminated song lists divided by music genre. "My advice is to pick a tune you're familiar with, especially for the rhythm and the music. The words will scroll across the screen on the stage's monitor so handling the lyrics should be a piece of cake."

"Something I'm familiar with…" he repeated, frowning at the binder's contents as he leafed through them.

Paige clapped him on the back. "It's not homework, Mike," she gently reminded him. "I'll be at our table. When you find something, put your name down on the list and Dan will call you when it's your turn."

He made a noise of agreement, still concentrating on the hundreds of songs he had to choose from. Ten minutes later, he made his choice and wrote his first name down on the sign-up sheet Dan gave him.

"Just in time," said the deejay as he took a glance at the list of names. "You're next."

"What? I—" Any further protest of his was cut off by Dan announcing his name over the loudspeaker.

Paige whooped and let out a shrill whistle from her seat, the only sign of encouragement Warren received as he trudged onto the stage. The other patrons in the small club seemed content to nurse their drinks and ignore the latest in a line of karaoke singers who had filed on and off the stage every so often, most of them a combination of drunk and tone-deaf.

The FBI agent tried to take solace in the fact that he was virtually ignored as he stepped up to the microphone. No one's going to care if you suck, he thought to himself, but all he could think about was the one and only time he had auditioned for school choir in fifth grade and how his music teacher had stopped him in mid-note to deliver her verdict.

"Quite frankly, Mr. Warren, I advise you to never open your mouth unless it's to speak," she had said.

The rejection had hurt him more than he liked to admit. He had decided to forget about singing, and as he had grown older, he had thrown himself into other pursuits that he thought more essential to achieving his dream of becoming an FBI agent, such as high school track, so he could develop the necessary strength and stamina for chasing and catching bad guys.

Now, he swallowed past a dry mouth and took a breath as his song's instrumental track started playing. He didn't dare look at his audience, especially at Paige, and concentrated on the small screen of the monitor in front of him as the lyrics scrolled past, the words highlighting in time with the music.

His voice was shaky on the first few words, but it steadied and strengthened as he pushed past his embarrassment. By the time he began the first round of the chorus, Paige's eyes were wide as she watched her housemate perform. She had been preparing herself for hearing the human vocal equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard or a cat yowling in pain, but this…she had not expected this.

The minutes ticked by and Mike watched the last of the lyrics scroll by before the monitor faded to black. Silence greeted his performance, and he risked a glance at the crowd.

Eyes that had once been downcast were now turned in his direction. Drinks stood untouched and forgotten on tables. A few people even had their mouths agape as they stared at him. From somewhere in the back of the room, someone began clapping, and others joined in until the sound of thunderous applause filled Warren's ears.

"Give it up one more time for Mike! One of the best performances I've heard here!" Dan shouted over the loudspeaker.

Mike made his way back to his and Paige's table, stunned at the compliments and pats on the back he received as he went by.

"Was I really that good?" he asked Arkin before taking a sip of the fresh beer she passed him, paid for by another patron.

"Good? Mike, you were amazing! I don't know why you thought you weren't a singer…" Paige trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.

Giving her a tight smile, he related the story about his failed choir audition.

"Well, she was obviously way off-base," Paige muttered.

He laughed. "I guess when it came to singing, I didn't have anyone who believed in me, you know, whether I was good or bad, so I never had to force myself to do it."

Paige smiled and raised her beer bottle. "To supportive friends…and hidden talents."

Mike returned her smile as he clinked his bottle against hers. "Hidden talents? You aren't going to tell the others about this?"

"Nah. We should have a secret about something good to keep between us, don't you think?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'd like that."

A fresh-faced redhead at the table next to them tapped Warren on the shoulder. "Excuse me," she said shyly. "Would you mind going up there to sing again?"

"Yeah, Mike. Would you mind?" Paige asked, throwing him a mischievous grin.

He felt heat spreading through him as his face flushed but he set down his beer to take Arkin's hand. "I'd be happy to sing again if my friend joined me."

Paige beamed. "Okay, but I get to pick the song!" she shouted, jumping up from her seat.

"What? No!" he objected but even as he spoke, he grinned as Paige's hand remained in his as they made their way back to Dan.