Author Note: No, I have NOO idea why I wrote this, how I could write this, how I even felt compelled to write this. I've never written anything like this before, and I feel kind of sick after writing it now. I don't even watch "Burn Notice" regularly…but somehow I woke up with this in my mind, I wrote it in my head during the day and had to write it down when I got home. So, here we are:

Just a Game

Fiona felt him behind her just before it was too late. He was good, his approach was perfect, he hadn't made a sound, hadn't alerted her to his appearances until she could feel the press of his gun against her back.

She froze, for only a second but it was enough. Now the gun was under her chin, pointing up, if he pulled the trigger she was dead, no question, no chance. She could see his hand in the corner of her eye, his finger was firm on the trigger, he definitely had experience with guns.

That was good, at least she didn't have to worry about a trigger happy amateur blowing her brains out if he got too excited.

"You know who I am?" she nodded, no point lying, she was in the guys bathroom, in his hotel room, under his name. She considered trying the old "Wrong room" gag, but that excuse seemed weak at this point, most hotel patrons would have been babbling or peeing themselves by now. He had to know who and what she was by her calm composure when being confronted with a firearm. Besides, making this guy angry didn't seem like a good idea at this juncture.

She weighed her options, grabbing the gun was out. He'd fire before she made a move. As if he understood her thoughts the man's grip tightened around her, the gun pressing the soft flesh under her chin painfully.

So overpowering the guy wasn't going to work. She cursed herself for not waiting for back up in the form of Michael or Sam. Sure they had a lot of work between the three of them, but damn it Fiona you had to prove you were fine by yourself didn't you? Now look at her…

The only option left wasn't a pleasant one and she knew it. She also knew guys were ruled by two things: The ego and the libido. She closed her eyes briefly and plunged into the game.

"Of course I know you" she said, as flirtatiously as she could in her current position "who doesn't?" she could feel his heart beating faster and turned up the charm "Nigel Hess... Your cons are legendary…" she back up slightly, grinding into him. "Question is, do you want to know me?"

She felt him tense and bit back a smile, just keep up the act a little while longer Fi and you're home free. She waited, expecting his grip on the gun to slacken. It didn't. She felt the nuzzle press into her harder and soon it was a whimper she was biting back…that wasn't the only thing she felt pressing into her.

For a moment she panicked, the absolutely worse thing to do in this situation. This wasn't the way it was supposed to play out though! She was in charge, that was the game.

"I know what you're trying to do" she heard him whisper, she went cold as she felt his free hand on her waist, pushing up her shirt and hovering above her extremely short skirt. His hands were freezing against her bare skin. "And it's working" he pushed her skirt down and it pooled around her ankles. "But it's not going to end up the way you plan it too" she felt her chin raise as the gun nuzzle dug into her skin. Fiona felt a tear trickle down her face, she shut her eyes hard hoping that her attacker hadn't noticed.

Still the gun remained in place.

She felt his finger against her folds and another tear spilled out, it was beyond her control now. She felt her juices flowing completely against her will and as he forced a finger inside her she felt blood flowing from her bottom lip as she bit down to keep from screaming.

Still the gun did not waver.

She tried to remain in control, it was a game, and she would win. She just had to wait, it was all part of the game wasn't it? She'd wait, he'd slip up and she'd get out of this alive. It was a game.

And she was losing.

A moan of pain escaped her and her eyes widened in fear, weakness, she'd shown her weakness and it would kill her.

Her attacker pulled his claw out of her suddenly and she would have wept in gratitude had her eyes not already been flowing.

"You're enjoying this aren't you little spy?"

She froze, unsure of the correct answer, unsure of anything. She couldn't speak, couldn't move her head even if she had known. Her head was jerked back and she felt several hairs part company with her scalp as she suddenly was treated to an upside down image of Mr. Nigel Hess. His eyes hard, telling her without words that whatever was coming next she would not enjoy. He released her head, for a second Fiona saw her chance to grab the gun while it was not yet pointed at her brain, but the moment passed, the gun nestled back in it's rightful place under her chin.

She heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper and screwed up her eyes.

Michael…why was his image coming to her at a time like this?

Escape.

That was the answer, she could escape what was happening at the moment, she could escape with him. Retreat into her mind and spend the next few minutes before her death in the calmer waters of memory and images of people she loved.

Loved?

She'd think about the implication of that word later…now she could escape.

…No she couldn't. She wouldn't allow herself. She would remain focused. She would await her chance. She would use her skills and her intelligence and she would win the game. He'd slip up and she'd win.

She forced her eyes open and stared straight ahead, there was a sink across from her, and above it she could see her reflection in the mirror. Blood pouring from her lip, hair sticking out, gelled by what she realized was her own juices transferred when her attacker had grabbed her head, but worse of all was her puffy and tear streaked face. She averted her gaze, looking everywhere but at the reflection of the crime being committed to her.

She felt her attackers penis pressing more urgently against her thigh and could feel her heart speed as he positioned himself against her ass. She didn't have enough time to prepare herself and screamed as he thrust into her, she felt something tear and the pain doubled…Despite the agony, her eyes remained firmly open, her mind remained sharp. She wouldn't miss another opportunity.

She could feel him speeding up, his thrusts lubricated with her blood, the gun slipped slightly as he grasped her shoulders for support. He would come soon and it was this thought that propelled her into action. She tasted bile in her throat at the thought of him coming inside her and swallowed the sick, she didn't have time for it.

She worked her foot out of the pool of skirt, careful not to dislodge her high heeled shoe. Sparing a look at the gun, still aimed at her head, but in a position where it would most likely glance off her ear she raised her foot as high as she dared and brought it down with all her strength. It made contact with a satisfying cracking noise.

She was horrified to feel a short spurt of warm liquid against her before he pulled away in with a terrible yell of pain. Blood sprayed from the injury she'd caused, she quickly pulled her foot out of her shoe, the pointed heel still sunk a couple centimeters into the mans foot. The gun dropped and they both dove for it, Nigel Hess becoming tangled in his pants, the waistband hugging his thighs.

Fiona grabbed the gun and stood before him naked and shaking. She could see the fear in his eyes and felt a thrill of sudden and overwhelming happiness. Her brain overloaded, nerves firing randomly, selectively sending sounds and images. His hand outstretched as though to block the bullet. A phone ringing somewhere far away. A yarn of cum still dangling from what used to be a weapon, now a pathetic pouch of flesh. She pulled the trigger. .

Game over.