A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you all for your reviews of our AU repostings. Here is the final one in the series, 2.01 "Free to Be You and Me." This reposting does not include the present storyline for AU 2.01 which is currently being posted in Reconnecting. Once that story is complete, we'll add it to this one. An update for "Reconnecting" should be out early next week.
We're still working on the next chapter of "Be Brave Little Angel," and an update to "True Believer" in time for the fourth anniversary of the end of Burn Notice.
This is a REPOST of Chapters 17-21 of Puppies, Kittens & Gun Toting Babies and Chapters 6 & 7 of Reconnecting for now. Chapters 21 – 25 will be reposted here when they are completed.
Our story opens immediately following the events of Season 1 Finale. After rescuing Sam, our hero is off to meet to meet with the people who burned him and it falls to Fiona Glenanne to take care of business and protect his family.
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Miami 2008
He was leaving her and, like a fool, she was helping him on his way...again...
As quick as a cat, Fiona climbed up the metal ladder which led up onto the roof of an old abandoned warehouse close to the Miami River. Reaching the top, she walked confidently over the roof of the crumbling building, looking for the best spot to set up her sniper perch.
She supposed she should be grateful that at least this time he was being so up front about where she stood on his list of priorities.
Pursing her lips, she peered down from her chosen position, which gave her a clear view of the old rusted up barge where Sam Axe was being held by a heroin importer by the name of Glen Harrick. Next to the barge on the dock were two large black SUVs surrounded by a half dozen men who all looked like they had read one too many copies of Soldier of Fortune; muscle bound, carrying an impressive amount of weaponry and dressed in a loose uniform of laced boots, cargo pants and vest tops.
Kneeling down, she unzipped her rifle case and pulled out her Hecate 2, a rifle she had owned for over ten years. It had been a gift from a former lover and about the only thing she had kept from that relationship, except for a deep sorrow for wasting five years of her life. Fleeting thoughts of former lovers brought her mind back to Michael and his damned obsession.
Why couldn't he just accept he was no longer wanted by his government and get on with his life? Hadn't they had fun so far? They had certainly helped a lot of people. It surprised her how much she had liked doing that; helping the little guy, the ones who couldn't help themselves. Her year in Miami had changed her so much, why not him? He had friends now, or at least a friend in Sam Axe, he was getting on with his family. What more did he need?
As her thoughts centered on her lover's decision to go off with the people who had destroyed his life, her hands dealt with the task of getting her weapon ready for use while her eyes kept watch on the activity taking place on and around the barge.
Raising the deadly weapon, she peered through the scope, thinking how easy it would be to pick the majority of the mercenaries off with the rifle and then send one of the prepared-for-use pieces of C4 she had with her down to finish off the remaining men. But, of course, that plan would probably get Sam Axe killed.
Sam Axe, former SEAL commander, a man who a year ago she would have cheerfully killed and done it with a smile on her face… But not now… now she had gotten to know him. Now only after he had been taken by a ruthless team made up of ex-Special Forces and mercenaries did she realize she thought of him as a friend too.
All but a couple or so of the men hanging around near the barge were climbing into the SUVs and preparing to leave. Keeping watch through her rifle scope, she brought out her cell phone and pressed one on the speed dial.
"It looks like they're leaving a three man team on the boat," she told the man on the other end of the call.
"I'm off to crash the party," he replied and then hung up.
Placing the phone down at her side, she shifted her body until she found a position she could hold for as long as she had to. Her eyes never strayed from the men moving about on the deck. If one of them moved into a position where they might spot Michael's underwater approach, she centered her sights on him.
Why was nothing straight forward with Michael? She sighed. They could have gotten Sam back hours ago if they had gone with her spur of the moment plan of just taking what they had in the trunk of the Charger and gone in shooting.
It was the way they would have done it back in Belfast. Michael McBride had possessed a sense of style which had made him her type of man. This Michael Westen was far too cautious for her liking. That was except concerning his own safety. Who was going to watch his back after today? Damn him, he needed his own team… he needed her!
"I'm off to crash the party" could very well turn out to be his last words to her if things went wrong.
She hardened her heart and concentrated on the job at hand. He had made it very plain this was what he wanted.
At least this time they had gotten to say goodbye. At least this time, she wasn't going to wake from a drugged sleep at a loss as to what had happened. This time she knew he had willingly chosen something other than her. She wanted to hate him for it, but she couldn't do it.
Fiona narrowed her eyes as she noted a disturbance in the water under the gangplank. Her finger slid inside the trigger guard, lightly caressing the trigger as she prepared to shoot anybody who looked over the side. Moments later, everything stilled and she relaxed slightly. The sticky bomb they had made together was now in place and ready to surprise the bad guys as soon as they attempted to leave the vessel.
She missed their days in Ireland. She wanted her wild Irishman McBride back, but it seemed he had been swallowed up by Michael Westen. Biting down on her lip, she couldn't stop the wistful smile breaking through as she remembered how a short while ago they had said goodbye in the shower, with water tumbling down over them and washing away her tears.
She tightened her grip on her rifle as her thoughts went to where his hands had gone over her wet slick skin and the way her own hands had glided over the planes of his muscular chest and abdomen.
A shot rang out, echoing up from the depth of the barge, bringing her thoughts instantly back to present.
"Michael!"
All other thoughts scattered as her attention zeroed in on the men on deck, who were rushing towards the single hatch which led into the bowels of the barge.
She sent two shots ricocheting off the door frame, causing the two mercenaries closest to back off as splinters of metal flew towards them. The third man, a heavy set blond all tattoos and muscles, ran forward and she cut him off by taking a more difficult shot, aiming the bullet at the metal railing close to where his hand was about to land.
She grinned as she held all three at bay without hitting any of them, giving herself points for difficulty of the shot... This was fun...Reaching for her phone, she dialed in a number while making sure her targets stayed out of the fight that was undoubtedly happening below deck.
Suddenly, the former SEAL burst out onto deck followed closely by the burned spy, the two men running like the hounds of hell were on their tails. She fired a few more shots at the mercs to keep them back and then, as Michael's feet cleared the gangplank, she pressed the send key and smiled happily as the gangplank and a good part of the deck was blown to kingdom come.
She pointedly kept her eyes trained on the barge, refusing to watch as Michael and Sam jumped into Sam's Cadillac and drove away at top speed. He was gone and, all of a sudden, she felt very much alone.
Packing away her gun, she fought back the urge to weep. Where the hell was that coming from? She hadn't cried, or even felt the need to cry, since... Since Michael left her the very first time.
With her weapon packed away, and the sound of sirens in the distance, she got to her feet. Her heart suddenly leapt when her cell phone began to ring. Had he finally come to his senses? She frowned when she saw an unknown number.
"Fiona?" Madeline's panicked voice came through loud and clear along with the sound of squealing tires and the unmistakable sound of gun fire. "Oh thank god, you answered... Michael said not to use the phones, but we need - we need help. Michael's safe phone isn't working an' …NATE! Oh my god!"
"Madeline, what's happening?" Fiona cut off the other woman's panicked rambling, all thoughts of Michael gone from her head as she made her way to the ladder to take her back to the ground.
"Some men are chasing us! We can't get away… Nate is..."
"Hey, Fiona?" Nate's voice came on the line. "Er, I could really use some help here... Or some advice... I've two cars on my ass and they're trying to shoot out the tires and run us off the road."
"Where are you, which way are you traveling?" Fiona was all business. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, she held the phone to her ear by pressing it between her cheek and shoulder as she climbed down from the building as fast as she could.
"We were heading towards Fort Lauderdale, but these guys were tailing us, so I kept going north… I got all the way to Palm Beach Gardens. I thought I lost them. But as soon as I got to the Turnpike and headed back south, they came outta nowhere and started shooting!"
"Where are you?" she repeated with a little more force.
"I got off at Okeechobee Road and now I'm headed down State Road 7… I thought I lost them a couple of subdivisions ago, but now I'm not so sure."
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was off and running, crossing over a patch of wasteland until she reached the road and the strip mall beyond the bridge.
"Nate, get back on the Turnpike. Go south as fast as you can without getting yourselves killed. They're not going to risk getting stopped by the Highway Patrol. Then I need you to get onto the Sawgrass Expressway and keep heading south. Do you understand?"
Striding along the pavement, she searched for just the right vehicle. A high powered sports motorbike with the crash helmet dangling off the handle bars caught her attention. It was perfect for her needs.
"Nate?" she snapped when she had got no answer to her suggestion.
"Sorry, I thought... Oh, dammit, I thought I'd lost them... Yeah, I can do that, if I can-"
The owner of the motorbike had to be inside the store. She spotted a man dressed all in fancy racing leathers standing in line for the cashier.
"Get off at Atlantic Boulevard. You'll see me soon. Whatever you do, go fast and don't stop." She hung up and pushed her phone into her pocket.
The owner of her chosen form of transport was moving closer to the front of the line as she pulled on the crash helmet and then used the blade of a knife to jimmy the ignition.
Climbing astride the powerful machine, she settled her rifle bag so the bottom was clear of the seat and then pressed the button on the handlebars, which caused the engine to roar to life. By the time the owner of the motorcycle was running out of the store shouting for her stop, Fiona was half way down the street, rapidly going through the gears.
Weaving in and out of the late afternoon traffic, Fiona broke more than a few traffic laws as she increased the speed of the bike. But none of that mattered to her, as all of her concentration was on getting to Michael's mother and brother as fast as she could.
She was all the way on the west side of Fort Lauderdale, roaring down West Atlantic Boulevard when she eased back on the throttle and eventually came to a stop on the other side of the entrance cum exit ramp for the Sawgrass Expressway. She eased the bike through the open lot on the other side of the roadway made of compacted sand and rock and then on across the access bridge, which was used by the Fish & Game Commission and various other water management agencies, and then onto the road that ran parallel to a wide drainage canal.
Pulling off the crash helmet, she got back onto her phone. It had been not quite an hour since she had last spoken to Nate and she was now silently praying that both he and his mother were still alive.
"Fiona! Oh!" Madeline's breathy tones answer as soon as Fiona dialed the number.
"Madeline, put the phone on loud speaker." Fiona gave the blonde a second to carry out her command. "Nate, where are you?"
"I'm on the Sawgrass Expressway, just like you told me. They're just following us, now but they've got a fricking chopper as well an' I'm not going to lose them, Fiona. I think they're just waiting for us to run outta gas or give up."
"Don't stop now, Nate. Get off at Atlantic Boulevard and then cut through the open lot there on your right at the end of the ramp. You go over the bridge and get on the road next to the canal and keep going. Whatever you see or hear, don't stop. I know what I'm doing and you'll only get in my way. I'll catch up to you when it's all over."
"I was aiming for a motel on Bayshore Drive, shall I -"
"Yes, Nate. If I don't catch up with you, ditch the Charger somewhere and take a different car. I've got to go now."
She looked down at the phone and wondered briefly what Michael was doing. He should be here with me, protecting his family... Instead he's gone off to meet with the very people who are trying to kill or capture them.
With her anger growing, Fiona pocketed her cell and pulled the crash helmet back on. If Michael was too wrapped up in his own life to look after his own mother, she guessed it was up to her to show these people what happened when you messed with somebody under the protection of Fiona Glenanne.
Two miles down, she found what she was looking for. On that stretch of straight road, there was nothing but the occasional bush or tree to hide her amongst all the open land on either side of the deep canal that ran alongside the dirt road. Leaving the bike behind one of the few bushes along the way, she knelt down and opened her rifle case. Setting up the gun, she then gathered up the C4 charges she had brought with her and set them up along the edge of the road.
Looking upwards, she spotted the helicopter flying low and coming in fast and she smiled.
They would see this roadway with plenty of room to land and try to bring the Charger to a stop. Hiding under the bushes with the concealed bike, she watched as Michael's Charger came into sight with the helicopter flying in front of the muscle car, attempting to force the driver to give up.
Rising up, Fiona sighted on the chopper, aiming for the tail rotor and firing. It took two shots for her to do the damage she was looking for. Without that vital piece of equipment, its pilot would have no choice but to land and, with the relative instability of wet swamp land, there would be no good place to put the heavy machine that would support its weight.
Seconds later, the Charger flew past and Fiona was eternally grateful that Nate did as she asked and didn't try to stop and help. With one eye on where the chopper was coming down for a hard landing, she had the other eye on the four cars coming straight at her. Lowering the rifle, Fiona pulled out her phone and rapidly keyed in the number to detonate the bombs.
One, two, three, four explosions all went off one after another, sending the two lead vehicles across the road and onto their sides. The other two vehicles involved in the chase had managed to avoid the charges but in their efforts not to crash into their compatriots, they swerved hard and it wasn't enough to save them on the narrow road as both vehicles flew off the embankment and into the deep waters of the adjacent canal with a loud splash.
Bringing the rifle back up, Fiona opened fire again, sending bullets into the vehicles still on the road and driving back the occupants who had just climbed out of the wreckage.
WHOOSH! BANG! One of the cars exploded and ignited the one behind. WHOOSH! BANG! The second one blew up too, sending flames and burning metal out in all directions. Grinning from ear to ear, Fiona ran back to where she had left the motorbike.
Now this was what she called fun. Satisfied that nobody would be able to give chase, she climbed back on to the motorbike and roared away.
It took Fiona less than ten minutes to catch up to the Charger, being driven at a far more sedate speed now they were no longer being followed. As she came up alongside the sleek black vehicle, Fiona saw Madeline sitting stiffly inside, her hands gripping the seat as if her live depended on it.
Seeing the look of panic cross Nate's face, she lifted up the visor on the crash helmet so he could see her face and then gestured to stop at the public park at the end of the access road. There, amongst all the families having a picnic and the boaters, they could get a moment to talk privately.
As soon as Nate pulled up in a parking space, Madeline launched herself out of the door and pulled Fiona, who had just arrived at their side after parking the stolen motorbike, into a death grip of a hug. "What is going on? Where's Michael? Why isn't he here? Who were those people? How did -"
"Mom, breathe, please. Give Fi a chance," Nate interrupted his mother's flow and earned Fiona's gratitude when Madeline reluctantly let her go.
"Michael is off doing his spy thing," Fiona began to answer the list of questions. "I think those people were part of the group who is trying to bring Michael in." Fiona took a breath of her own and then made a point of looking about her at all the parked up vehicles. The area was too small to steal a vehicle with all the witnesses close by and ensure a clean exit.
"We need to get another car and get out of here in case they've got re-enforcements on the way. Weston..." and she grinned as she said the name of the nearest suburb with malls and parking lots aplenty. "Weston is the nearest place we can get a new ride. Let me drive." She held out her hand for the keys before taking over the driver's seat.
Faster than either of the Westens thought possible, they were pulling into the Westgate Square Shopping Center and Fiona was climbing out of the vehicle.
"Nate, you and your mom wait here, I'll -"
"All due respect, Fiona, if you're talking about, er, 'borrowing a car,' I'm the one for the job."
She saw an eager to please expression on his face and smiled back.
Michael would have shot him down and ordered his younger brother to wait with their mother, but she wasn't Michael. She knew the value of teamwork.
"Go ahead, Nate. We'll get the bags out of the trunk while we wait."
Nate was back in less than ten minutes with an older model silver Toyota Corolla which would have pleased Michael no end. Plain, popular and nondescript, an ideal vehicle if you wanted to remain anonymous; Fiona hated it.
Keeping within the speed limits and obeying all the traffic signals, they reached Bayshore Drive and the Shell Resort Motel before nightfall. After booking in, Fiona took the Corolla and dumped it several miles away from where the Westens were going to be taking their unexpected vacation before walking back to join them for one night.
In the morning, she slipped out early and came back with breakfast for them all. Then, as they sat around a small round topped table, she explained what was going to happen.
"I don't know how long you're going to have to stay here... Hopefully it won't be too long," she added quickly before Madeline could interrupt. "I'm sure once Michael has spoken to these people, everything will be fine." She tried to sound positive, but it was hard work. "I need you to make a list of everything you think you might need and I'll go and get it for you."
Of course, neither Madeline nor Nate wanted to stay in the motel room; it was small with the minimal amenities. But it was safe and completely anonymous, hidden amongst the hundreds of other identical businesses on the Fort Lauderdale sea shore.
Shortly after they all finished breakfast, Fiona headed out with a long list of what the Westens considered essentials. By lunchtime, she arrived back at the room to find it filled with a thick cloud of smoke and Nate already climbing the walls as Madeline sat smoking one cigarette after another as she watched her daytime soaps.
"You gotta tell her about the smoking, Fi. I'm gonna die of carbon monoxide poisoning if I have to stay here," Nate whined. Then he pointed to the ceiling. "She made me disarm the smoke detectors."
Rolling her eyes, Fiona took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "Madeline, you can't-"
"I've been dragged out of my home and chased all over the state and I haven't complained once, Fiona." Mrs. Westen was not about to let the younger generation tell her what she could and couldn't do. "But I'm putting my foot down now. I'll smoke where I damn well please."
One glimpse into the older woman's piercing steely blue eyes and Fiona decided it really wasn't worth the effort to force the stubborn blond to go outside every time she wanted to soothe her nerves. Besides, she wasn't going to be here to enforce the rules.
Breaking Mrs. Westen's gaze, Ms. Glenanne sent Nate a look that said 'I'm sorry I tried.'
And the younger Mr. Westen sent one back which said 'See what I have to put up with?'
"Well…" Fiona checked the time on the wall clock. "I need to get back and try to find Michael or Sam so I can fill them in with what's happened. Stay here and don't use the phones until either Michael or I contact you. Don't draw any money from the ATMs. Here's all the cash I've got on me." She handed Nate several hundred dollars and one of her spare guns. "Just remember, stay out of sight."
Away from the smoky confines of the motel room, Fiona let out a long drawn out sigh and walked away. She was going to go back to Miami and see if she could find Sam and maybe wait a few days extra to see if Michael returned.
If he didn't, she already had an offer of employment. If she ever wanted to move on, Seymour Talbot, the crazy arms dealer she had only met a couple of weeks earlier, had asked her to join him on one of his trips to South America and now that she was unattached, she was seriously thinking about taking him up on his offer. Spending some time with somebody who knew how to mix business with pleasure would be a pleasant change, at least for a while.
Stealing a rather nice new model white Honda CR-V SUV, she drove sedately back down I-95 into Miami. The drive was boring, but thankfully it was also short and uneventful. In less than half an hour, she was pulling up in a parking spot outside her home on the Intracoastal. All the way back, she had begun to wonder what Michael was doing and how much her own actions yesterday had effected his efforts to find out why he was burned.
She was still struggling with his decision to abandon them all without a backward glance. And that brought up another problem. If he was gone for good, what was she or Sam supposed to do with his mother and brother? Sure, Nate could probably look after himself. But Madeline would just be a sitting duck every time his new friends wanted to blackmail him into doing something.
Getting out of her purloined vehicle, she collected her rifle bag from the trunk and strolled into her apartment. For now, she chose to push the fate of Nate and Madeline to the back of her mind. She was tired, hungry and in need of a bath after spending two days in the same clothes.
Leaving the rifle in its bag on the couch, she went through to her bathroom and started running the hot water. Then, while the bath filled, she did a quick check that everything was as secure as it had been when she had left three days ago before going to the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of white wine, she poured herself a large glass.
Ten minutes later, she was letting the hot water soak away all the tension built up from the last forty eight hours. Resting her head back, she sipped on her wine and let her eyes close. This was just what she needed was her last conscious thought as the nearly empty glass dropped from her hand and bounced on to the floor.
When she woke up, the water was cold and her skin wrinkled and prune like. Hurriedly getting out, she dried herself and got into her pajamas. She had a mild surprise that she had let the glass fall from her hand and then a stray thought about being lucky that it had hit the rug and not the tile floor as she headed towards the kitchen.
It was too late to go searching for Sam, though she had a good idea on how to find him. He was bound to be wrapped in the arms of Veronica, the very wealthy buxom blond he had taken up with recently. The thought of Sam and his lady friend entwined made her feel nauseous, so there was no way she was going to actively search him out just to tell him she had yet again saved the day.
Pouring a fresh glass of wine, she turned on the television and flicked through the channels until she found a documentary on the bomb disposal squads working in Afghanistan. She still felt unusually tired, but it was easy to explain away with all they had been through in the last couple of weeks. Curling up on her couch, she decided she would watch the documentary and then clean her rifle before going to bed.
The sound of her cell phone beeping loudly and bouncing its way across the dining table in the corner of the room woke Fiona with a start. Looking around totally confused, she realized she must have fallen asleep on the couch and slept through the night. Glancing at her watch, she scowled when she saw the time. It was already eleven am. She had slept straight through for at least fifteen hours.
Bleary eyed, she stared at her phone, reading the message.
"Come over ASAP. I've got a job." He was back. She froze for a moment, staring at the brutally short message.
"Come over ASAP. I've got a job." The anger began to build. That was all he had to say to her?
"Come over ASAP. I've got a job."... Oh, she'd go over alright and, if she didn't like what he had to say, she would teach a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.
Leaving her phone on the table, she quickly made her way into her bedroom, unable to stop the beaming smile on her lips. He was back...
It didn't take long to have a quick shower and throw on a little pink and white tie dye summer dress. Twenty minutes after getting the message, Fiona was heading out of the door ready to do battle.
When she pulled up outside the metal gates, she could see him still dressed in his black special ops gear, attempting to hose away all the dust, dirt and plant life covering Sam's Cadillac. Staring at all the damage done to the vehicle, she was surprised Michael was still standing.
Well, if she didn't like what he had to say, he wouldn't be standing much longer. Slamming the Honda's door, she marched towards him, waving her cell phone at him.
"Hey, Fi."
Her eyes narrowed at his casual tone.
"I can't believe you, Michael." She watched his head drop. "Forty eight hours ago we said goodbye, possibly forever." The garden hose drooped in his hand and he let it fall to the ground. "And then I get a message from you on my cell that I should come right over because you've gotta job?"
"Fi, there's a lot going on. So -"
Oh, he is heading for a bloody nose if he keeps up this attitude. Her anger flared and deep down she knew she was over reacting, but just can't stop herself.
"You couldn't start with I'm alive?" she demanded hotly.
Close up, she could see exactly how damaged the car was. The rear end was beaten up so badly there didn't look to be a single panel that wasn't going to need straightening out.
"I thought the fact I was calling you covered that."
He really hadn't got a clue. Oh, but he was going to wish he had. Her fingers were already folding to make a fist.
"It's not the point," she scowled at him. "Do you have any idea what's gone on while you've been away? D'ya know I had to go an' rescue your mom and Nate? Whoever you've made a deal with to leave your family out of it aren't very trustworthy, Michael. Your mom was -"
"My mom being upset is going to be the least of our problems if I don't do this job, Fi," he cut her off, too busy wrapped up in his own problems to be concerned about what happened to the people he so blithely left behind.
She didn't even have to make the decision for her fist to fly; it went all on its own. But in her rage, she telegraphed the move and Michael easily blocked her attack and used her momentum to spin her around so he could hold her tight with her back firmly pressed into his chest.
"Fi, I called you because I need your help," he told her patiently, his warm breath tickling her neck and caused her anger to fade.
He smelt of sweat, gunpowder and explosives and she couldn't help pressing up against him. He was back, which meant they had another chance. She was just about to remonstrate him, remind that his family needed his help far more than any stranger.
"And as for the other..." He began to speak, but was cut off by the ringing of his phone and, when she turned in his arms, he drew away to answer the call
"Fi, please…"
With a final stroke of her hand down his chest, she backed away so he could take his call and she could inspect the damage done to Sam's pride and joy.
"Hey, mom, I'm fine. I told you not to make calls on that phone."
Fiona watched as Michael's expression went from pained to angry as his mother undoubtedly filled him in on what had occurred while he was gallivanting around with his new friends.
"Ma, I'm going to handle this. Where's Nate?" He listened intently now to the answer.
"He did what? No, no, I'm not mad." He paused, closing his eyes. "Okay, mom, you can just come on home... I – I can't come and get you, can you take a bus?"
The gist of Madeline's response was almost audible through the phone. "Yes, I'm fine, mom, really... Yes, Fi's here… Yeah mom, we're gonna talk all about it now... Okay, I'm gonna go now… Bye mom."
Slipping his phone into his pocket, he turned to Fiona. "A helicopter, Fiona, you shot down a helicopter? And you blew up four cars?"
She smiled at him, pleased to see he finally got how much danger his family had been put in. "I was preventing a kidnapping... Besides, you've shot down helicopters before. Why should you get to have all the fun?"
"Yeah, well, I think in saving my family, you put another one at risk." He gestured with a tilt of his head to the stairs. "Come and meet Jimmy."
Jimmy turned out to be a nervous looking computer programmer, who had come to the attention of Michael's new friend Carla because he had the skills to get her the information she needed from a group of mercenaries who were masquerading as security consultants.
"So they took my family because they couldn't take yours?" Jimmy accused after Fiona explained what had happened to the group assembled in the loft.
"It looks like it... I think they were transporting me to the airfield to stop you or my family would be killed and, when they couldn't do that, they did the next best thing and took your wife and kid."
"And you're still letting your mom come home?" Fiona commented.
"They don't need her now they've got Jimmy's family. We'll get them back, Jimmy, don't worry. They need me for other things and I'm not going to work for them if they can't keep their word."
Fiona opened her mouth to comment on his statement, but the look he threw her stilled her lips.
"Sam, why don't you take Jimmy and get a change of clothes? I think it's safe for us all to move around while we're doing what Carla wants."
"Yea, I was just thinking I needed to get out of these doll clothes, Mikey." Sam checked his watch and did some calculations. "Ronnie will be out at the manicurists right about now, so if we're quick, I should be able to slip in and out without her catching me, easy peasy. Come on, Jimmy, you can play look out for me."
As soon as they were alone, Fiona moved across the room, stopping directly in front of her lover. "You can't be serious about trusting this Carla? She promised to leave your family alone and then tried to kidnap them. Your mom coulda been killed, Michael."
"I don't really have much choice at the moment, Fi," he answered softly. "If we don't do what she wants, Jimmy's family is going to pay the price."
"And what happens once Jimmy is reunited with his family? What then, Michael? Who will they take next time they want to use you? Or maybe they'll just kill one of us to make a point."
"Fi…"
But she wasn't listening any more. Turning away, she took a step and was then brought back round by a strong hand gripping her arm.
"Fi, I need you with me on this."
She glared at him. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no, not until he agreed to doing something about Carla was the next thing on his list of things to do. But one look into his deep blue eyes and she found herself agreeing to help.
"Fine," she glowered. "But afterwards we have a long talk."
He nodded, smiling happily now he had gotten his way. "So I need to get Jimmy to introduce me to this Ryder Stahl character. Do you think you can go scout out the building? It's at -"
"You stink, Michael." She almost laughed at his quizzical look. "No, I mean it, you're not going anywhere until you've had a shower and gotten changed." She ran her hand down his chest and made easy work of his belt buckle. She had nearly lost him forever. This was something she needed...
"I need a shower?" He raised an eyebrow and let her lead him across the large open space to the back corner where his compact bathroom was hidden behind a thin wooden door covered in flaking paint.
"Yes, a thorough wash down," she answered. Kicking the door shut, she grabbed the hem of his top and jerked it up so she could run her hands over his exposed torso. "Every. Single. Inch. Of. You."
()()()()()
Leaving the loft with a smile on both their faces, Fiona dropped Michael off outside of Carlitos and then continued to drive over to the business district. Security Associates, Ryder Stahl's business was set up on the second floor of a three story building. The reception had a large glass windows, which would give a clear view of that area. But she needed something which gave a view of Security Associates offices. Across the street, she saw a parking garage which would be ideal. After a quick scout, she discovered the roof top gave the best position to watch the second floor and it also gave a good spot to give covering fire if Michael had to come out hot.
"I couldn't spot any security outside the building and I've found the ideal spot to watch," she spoke into her cell phone.
"That's great, Fi. We're going back to the loft so I can get changed while Sam teachs Jimmy his lines..."
"Fine. I'll see you in an hour, Michael. Be careful."
There was no way she was going to do surveillance in her sun dress, especially not after what had happened the last time she had spent time with Sam Axe. An hour wasn't much time to get back to her place, get changed and back. But if she drove fast, she might just make it.
The white SUV wasn't the best vehicle to cut through traffic, but with her driving skills Fiona made it home in under fifteen minutes. Once she was inside, she quickly stripped off the dress and reached for the first pair of jeans she came across. Pulling them on, she stared down as she struggled to do the button up and then had to suck in her stomach to get the zipper all the way up.
She paused, but was too busy to think much about it, as she needed to get out of the door. She would put a loose fitting top on to hide how snug the jeans had become. They must have shrunk when she washed them.
()()()
Sitting in a hot car with Sam Axe munching his way through some foul smelling greasy sandwich, Fiona fought down a rising bout of nausea.
"I can't believe, Michael, the way he just came back and expects us to drop everything to help him out," she pouted.
"You're being too hard on Mike. He damn near got himself killed saving me." Sam defended his best friend and took another huge bite of his meal.
"And I damn near got myself killed saving the both of you... And his mom... and Nate." She peered through a set of binoculars, wondering briefly why she could no longer see the man in question. "And then he comes back and it's like nothing happened."
"I'm just sayin'. I can count on one hand the number of buddies I've got who'd stage an armed assault to save my butt. Okay, you've got Mike, you've got -" He came to a stop when he obviously couldn't think of a single other person who would willing risk their life for him. "The point is -" He made his point by waving his sandwich out of the car window. "Mike is the kinda guy who's got your back -"
He was interrupted by the shout of "GUN!" coming from exit ramp behind them, followed instantly by a shot which took out the side mirror which had only been replaced a couple of hours earlier.
"What the hell is he doing?" Sam winced and ducked as the rear window disintegrated, sending a shower of glass into the caddy's back seat.
"I think we just got recruited into Michael's cover," she replied and drew her own gun as Sam, finally getting with the program, got the caddy engine started and slammed the vehicle into reverse as more shots came their way.
Leaning out of the window, she saw the smile on Michael's face as he casually fired a shot directly over her head. In answer, she playfully returned fire by sending a shot ricocheting off the ground in between his legs.
Before she could show off more of her superior skills, Sam got the car turned around and they went racing down the ramps and back into the street.
"Oh jeez," Sam looked at the damage done to his baby: a side mirror hanging off, enough bullets in the trunk to make it look like a sieve and the replacement rear window had nothing but a few pieces of splintered glass left in the frame and tiny shattered pieces all over the back seat. "I thought it was bad before... Next time, we use your car," he told the smirking red head who was admiring Michael's handiwork.
One finger traced a line of bullet holes, noting the skill and artistry that was displayed in firing that many shots and not doing any serious damage.
"Oh Sam," she smiled sweetly. "If I'd been driving, we wouldn't have sat there long enough for him to get off that many shots."
()()()()
Leaving Sam to drive his mangled vehicle back to the loft, Fiona climbed into her immaculate Honda and, from a new position, kept watch on Security Associates to make sure they didn't try to follow Sam as he drove away.
After a few minutes, she began to shift uncomfortably in her seat as the waistband of her jeans dug into her skin. This was ridiculous; she had barely eaten anything over the last few days... Had the wine the night before made her bloated?
Half an hour passed and there was no sign of anybody from Stahl's organization going out on the streets. But she knew that meant nothing as they hadn't spotted the mercenaries creeping up on them on the parking garage. If it hadn't been for Michael's warning shout... That was something that shouldn't have happened. What was the matter with her? Normally she would never let a group get the drop on her like that. She looked at herself in the rear view mirror. Maybe she was just a bit run down. Too many nights without any sleep and eating at irregular hours.
Feeling her phone vibrating in her pocket, she answered it. "Michael."
"Fi, I'm gonna have to go back inside Security Associates. I need to look at their vault. Can you hang on a bit longer?"
"Not a problem, Michael. But why go back and risk -"
"Carla called while I was at my mom's. She left the Charger there and - and she put Jimmy's little girl on the line... Please, Fi."
"I said I'd do it, Michael, and unlike some people I always keep my word."
With the call ended, she sat back with a huff. They should be out looking for Carla, or at least discussing how they were going to draw the bitch out, so they could teach her a lesson about kidnapping children.
She stayed while Michael went back inside to try to make friends with Ryder Stahl and she waited patiently until after he came out and drove away in the Charger. Then, instead of following him back to the loft to find out exactly what was going on, she decided to go home and change into another outfit. Normally, she had trouble getting clothes to fit her slender frame and the jeans she was wearing were not new. So why did they make her feel like she had gone up a whole dress size?
Once she was home, she tried on a couple of different outfits and then studied her body in the long mirror attached to her wardrobe door. She looked the same as normal. Twisting and turning she thought maybe, if she was being critical, she had put on a few pounds. Slipping into a long sleeved brown and white dress that skimmed her hips and breasts, she studied her profile one more time. At least this dress fit nicely.
When she arrived at the loft, she could hear Sam's voice as he sat out on the balcony. It sounded like he was trying to teach Jimmy to play a complicated card game he had once tried to teach her.
If Sam was out on the balcony, that had to mean Michael was inside on his own. Smiling happily, she made her way up the steps and entered without bothering to knock. He was leaning over the work bench his forehead wrinkled as he concentrated on a drawing.
"Figuring out a time when we can have our conversation?" she called out as she slinked across the space between them.
Pleased to see his gaze following her progress across the room, she slid past him letting one hand trail lightly over his back as she went to the fridge. Leaning forward, giving him the chance to admire her behind, she studied the contents of the fridge for a moment before claiming the last blueberry yogurt.
Pulling the lid off the cup, she turned to face him and licked the lid clean before throwing it into the waste bin.
"Fi, I'm planning a heist, erm – c-c-can y-you just, I mean, I gotta do the job first."
He was rattled; that was good...
"Do the job first, right." She sighed heavily and began to spoon the soft, creamy goodness into her mouth. "So, what can I do for the job?"
"I need you to get us into IsoGene Labs. It's a DNA testing facility one floor above Security Associates. I need to get in there for an hour, at night, alone and we're gonna be making a lotta noise."
Fiona twirled her tongue around the spoon, licking away the last vestiges of the yogurt. She was normally partial to peach, but for some reason the blueberry one she had just finished off had been delicious. "You have a high estimation of my skills, Michael."
"You've earned every bit of it, Fi," he replied and she couldn't help smiling at the husky tone in his voice, or the way his eyes were stripping her bare.
Dropping the yogurt cup and spoon into the sink, she slipped past him stopping only to give him a light kiss on the cheek. "I'll call when I've done the job, Michael. And just remember I want that talk afterwards."
()()()()()
Standing in the elevator, waiting for it to reach the third floor, Fiona eased her hand around the waistband of the skin tight white pants she had on. Sighing, she glanced into the mirror which covered the upper part of three of the walls. The matching top was just as tight and the buttons of the fitted shirt wouldn't have done up even if she had wanted to fasten them. As it was, her green lacy bra was barely containing her very perky breasts.
As the lift doors opened, she held a clip board in front of her covering her very much exposed assets and stepped out into IsoGene Laboratories reception. Settling into character, she plastered a big flirty smile on her face and sashayed over to the desk.
It took her all of five minutes to convince Clive the receptionist to let a building contractor into the labs over night. A little bit of flirting and a few suggestive looks and she had him eating out of hand. He even promised to call the building security immediately so she wouldn't get into trouble.
Pleased with herself, all she could think of as she stepped back into the elevator was how good that last blueberry yogurt had tasted. She could still taste it on her lips. Letting out a long sigh, Fiona frowned as another button came undone on her shirt and, right there and then, she had a revelation.
No. Ah huh... It's impossible... I had a jab.
She ran her hands over her still flat belly and at that moment the doors opened. Wide eyed and on the verge of panic, she walked purposefully out of the building and into the street.
She had of course heard all the stories about contraception failing, but it had never failed on her before and, really at her age... She shook her head. No, it was impossible. She would prove it, if only to get rid of any lingering doubts.
Reaching her car she drove away, taking her time to make sure nobody was tailing her. She eventually came to a stop in the parking lot of the Target superstore on South Dixie. Inside she walked down the various aisles, passing by the rows of pregnancy tests three times before she got the nerve to stop and study the various types they had to offer. Finally, she picked up two different ones so she could double check the results to be sure.
She was on her way to pay when she came to a stop and back tracked past the contraceptives and other medicines and down to where the dairy products were displayed. Searching along the rows, she eventually found what she was looking for Brennan's blueberry flavored yogurts.
It was while she was waiting in line to pay that her cell began to ring. It was Michael.
"Michael...Sorry I got distracted. You're ready to go. The guy on the desk, I had him -"
"Fi, Fiona... Carla has kidnapped Nate."
She froze. "What?"
"I was talking with Jimmy and I spotted this guy watching us. When I chased him down, he had an envelope on him. It had two pictures inside, one of Jimmy's family and one of Nate... Then Carla called to tell me they were getting impatient and I'd better get on with the job... They picked him up at the airport, Fi. He was waiting to board a flight to Las Vegas."
She could hear the anguish in his voice and it broke her heart and at the same time filled her with a rage. Nobody hurt her friends or family and lived to tell of it.
She paid for her yogurts and pregnancy tests as she continued to talk. "What can I do, Michael? What do you want me to do?"
"I need you with Sam tonight, and, Fi, I think you were right about what you said earlier. I need to see you - after the job."
"I'll be there, Michael." He hung up on her and she stared at her phone in shock.
This was going to be a harder night than she thought.