Disclaimer: Burn Notice and all of its characters belong to Matt Nix and the USA Network.

So, I seem to have hit a Burn Notice fic streak, and I'm not entirely sure where it sprouted from. I apologize for the overload in fics that I've been posting...I just cannot seem to quell the ideas that keep showing up, and I feel that I must share them with all of you. Thank you all so much for all of your kind words in reguards to the rest of my fics. I love all of you lovely people! Anywho, I decided that I should write a less...angsty fic? So...here goes nothing?

"You can say 'we're done', the way you always do,

It's easier to lie to me than to yourself.

Forget about your friends,

You know they're gonna say we're bad for each other,

But we ain't good for anyone else.

I told you I wouldn't call, I told you I wouldn't care,

But, baby, climbing the walls gets me nowhere.

I don't think that I can take this bed getting any colder.

Come over, come over, come over, come over, come over."

-"Come Over" Kenny Chesney

The day has been perfect. The sun was bright and warm, the breeze enough to take a bit of the humidity off of everyone's skin, though the sun had long since begun to sink below the ocean skyline. Michael stepped out onto the balcony and took a long drink of the beer that hung loosely in his grip as he glanced over the darkening skyline. He dropped his chin to his chest and shook his head slowly.

How the hell had he gotten to this point? How had everything that he had ever fought for and ever cared about gotten so far out of his grasp? He let out a sigh and walked back into the loft slowly. He lifted his cellphone from the table and stared at it, his mind heavy.

Michael's fingers hovered over the 'call' button for, what seemed like, an eternity before sucking in a deep breath and slipping the phone back into his pocket. He threw his charcoal colored suit jacket on over his white linen shirt and grabbed the keys to the Charger before moving to the door. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he was greeted with Fiona staring back at him, her hand hanging in the air poised to knock on the door.

"Fiona." He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Michael." She replied, running her hand over the back of her neck nervously. Michael couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his lips in the ghost of a smile. Fiona Glenanne did not get nervous. "I just wanted to...stop by to see how you were doing."

"I'm good." He replied, stepping to the side and gesturing for her to come in. She gave him a polite smile and stepped in. An awkward silence stretched out between them as Michael tried to figure out what he was supposed to say and Fiona was picking at her shirt, attempting to ignore the awkwardness. "What did you really come here for, Fiona?"

"To tell you you're an idiot." She sighed, moving closer to him and looking deeply into his eyes. Michael's chest tightened as he looked at her with tears brimming on the corners of her eyes. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear gently.

"I miss you too, Fi." The two of them hadn't spoken in nearly a month since an unfortunate incident where one of her more shady contacts had almost botched their entire job. That had ended in a full blown screaming match in the middle of the loft, which had included more than one bottle being shattered against the wall. He had avoided calling her, and had avoided even asking for her help on jobs. Michael and Sam had been in quite a few tight spots due to lack of tactical support, but he had still not called her. Michael Weston was a stubborn man. "You didn't call." He whispered.

"Neither did you." She replied quickly.

"No. I didn't." He sighed, stepping closer. Fiona reached out and touched his chest briefly, her fingertips sending shivers through his body. "I thought about you every day."

"Really?" Fiona stepped even closer until their chests brushed against one another. "I didn't think about you for even a second." Michael's arm snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against him roughly, their hips colliding in a sharp smack of bone under soft flesh. His hand curled around the back of her neck and wove into her hair, tugging lightly. He leaned in close enough for his lips to brush gently over hers as he spoke.

"Liar." He growled low in his throat. His teeth nipped at her lower lip hard enough to draw a small bead of blood and a deep groan from Fiona. Michael grinned against her lips and pulled her closer. He placed a deep kiss to her lips, his hand slipping under the hem of her black tank top and over her heated skin. Pulling away briefly, he pulled the shirt over her head and dropped his lips to her collar bone, nipping the sweat salted skin there and soothing the sting of his teeth with his tongue.

Fiona's nails were rough as they drug down his back through the material of his shirt and she pushed the suit jacket off his shoulders. The swoosh of the material in the quiet air of the loft seemed like it echoed off of the bare walls as it pooled on the ground by their feet.

They shuffled back to the bed, careful not to trip over their own feet before tumbling into the bed. Michael was grasping for the sheets wildly, trying to maintain his balance, but he ended up dragging them both along with all of the sheets over the side of the bed. They paused, staring at one another as they lay on the floor before they both burst into laughter, their sides heaving with the force of the laughter.

When Michael finally composed himself, he pressed another kiss to her lips. His hand slipped down her stomach and unhooked the button on her jeans, effectively silencing her laughter as they laughs dissolved into breathy moans when his fingers came into contact with her heat. The rest of the world fell away as they lost themselves in the slide of skin against skin.

The humid Miami air clung to their bodies as they moved together as one. Michael's lips moved over her taut skin as his hips pressed into hers. They moved together until they both cried out in completion and collapsed beside one another, their chests heaving as they tried to catch their breath.

"You know," Michael gasped, his body slick with sweat as he shifted on the uncomfortable floor. "There are probably quite a few people that would say we shouldn't be doing this."

"Yeah, but what the hell do they know." Fiona mused, pulling the sheet that had wrapped itself around them tightly over their bodies. "Besides, we're toxic, Michael. This relationship, fucked up as it may be, is the only thing in my life that has ever worked out." She paused before continuing hastily. "For the most part, anyway."

"I guess you're right." Michael nodded, tucking Fiona against his chest and wrapping his arm around her waist tightly. "I really did miss you, Fiona."

"I know you did, Michael." She leaned up and placed a kiss against his chin, nipping at the stubbled skin playfully. "I missed you too." She smiled at him before tucking her head under his chin and allowing sleep to softly overtake her. Michael smirked to himself and shifted once again. He knew that his back was going to be a mess the next morning from sleeping on the floor, but he didn't want to wake Fiona. So, instead, he sighed and allowed his own eyes to flutter shut.

He truly had missed her. She was right. They may have been bad for each other, possibly even toxic, but they weren't good for anyone else. He had waited a month for her to come over, and he knew that she wouldn't let him down.

So, I tried to keep this more T rated then M, but I do intend to put out an M rated fic sometime soon. Once again, I apologize for the overload. Thoughts on this? Drop a review and let me konw.

Much love,

J. Rook