Disclaimer – I am not the owner of any of the Burn Notice Characters. However, I am the owner of a very active imagination.

A/N – This will be a series all based on an expectant Fiona. I touched on Fiona being pregnant in another series of one-shots and got requests for more, so here you go! Right now, the plan is a prologue, 9 months, and an epilogue. That is all subject to change though. Please review and let me know how you like it!

9 Months and Counting

Prologue

A covert op, no matter how well planned out, can go wrong at any minute. Spies are humans, and we are fallible. Sometimes we underestimate how dangerous a situation is. When that happens, it can result in major bodily harm, or worse, death. We are not immortal, and we try to prepare ourselves for the possibility of the worst-case scenario. Truly, one can never be fully prepared.

The job was supposed to be an easy one. Michael was doing surveillance and tactical support from a distance, and Fiona was to go in to the warehouse, get the sensitive item that they needed, and get out. It all should have been easy and from the looks of it, all was going as planned. Michael still couldn't ignore the twinge in the pit of his stomach that told him something was going to go terribly, terribly wrong.

"Come on, Fi," he said, talking to himself. "Get in and get out. Simple."

Suddenly, through his night vision goggles, the area he was looking at was lit up so brightly that he yanked the goggles off and had to blink his eyes several times to get his vision back. Eyes still tearing, he looked. Where the warehouse had stood, there was now a giant fireball lighting up the sky.

"NO!" Michael yelled.

He immediately dialed her cell; it went right to voice mail. He tried again and again, with no success. He tossed his gear in the charger and tore down to the warehouse. By the time he got there, firefighters were already arriving on the scene. He jumped out of the car and ran towards the building, the blistering heat causing him to break into an instant sweat.

A fireman caught him around the waist and yanked him back. "I'm sorry, sir, but you can't get any closer."

Michael struggled for a minute and realized the firefighter was right.

"What happened in there?" Michael asked.

"We're not sure, yet. There is concern of a secondary explosion. We're trying to get in touch with the owner to find out what was being stored in there."

Michael knew that the chances of getting a hold of the owner, at least the true owner, were slim to none. He kept that bit of information to himself. Michael tried Fiona's cell phone again to no avail.

Suddenly there was some commotion. The firefighters carried out a body bag and sat it on a stretcher where paramedics took one look at shoved the stretcher into a waiting ambulance. Michael knew from the lack of activity that it was not a good sign.

The same fireman as before came over to update Michael, even though he had no obligation to do so. Perhaps he could see the anguish on his face and sympathized with him.

"They just pulled a body out."

"Was it male or female?" Michael asked, holding his breath.

"No way to tell. It was too burned beyond recognition. We won't know until an autopsy is performed."

Michael then bolted for the charger and drove off.

Michael drove around aimlessly for a while, not even sure how he ended up parked outside of Fiona's condo. He sat there in the dark, looking up at her windows. Of course, everything was pitch black and there was not one sign of life. He put his forehead down on the steering wheel and let the emotions that he was trying so hard to contain escape.

Finally, he drove back to the loft. He was not expecting sleep to come tonight, but he had start thinking about what arrangements there were to be made. He thought about calling Sam, or Madeleine, but at this moment, he just needed to be alone. As he drove away, a light rain started to fall. Michael thought about how fitting it was, as if the sky was mourning right along with him.

Back at the loft, Michael stood outside in the now pouring rain. He let the rain soak him, wishing that somehow it could wash away the hurt and pain he was feeling inside. Scenes of moments with Fiona flashed through his head like a motion picture. He could remember the day they met like it was yesterday. Once the movie stopped, he braced himself to go inside.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, he knew that he was not alone. Still on edge from what happened at the warehouse, Michael immediately drew his gun. A lone figure sat on his bed.

"Is that any way to treat a friend?" a female voice asked.

"Fiona?" Michael asked in surprise, putting his weapon away.

"Were you expecting another woman to be waiting in your bed, Michael?" she asked him slyly.

"Fi?" Michael was speechless. "But how did you… the warehouse was… I saw the body they pulled out…" He just stood there almost afraid to believe that Fiona was indeed perched on the edge of his bed.

"Well, whoever they found, it wasn't me. My guess is the idiot who planted the bomb went and blew himself up. Well, as far as I'm concerned, he got what he deserved."

Michael still stood in disbelief. "I saw it explode Fiona. I didn't see you come out. How?"

"Apparently our blueprints were inaccurate. There was a back window that wasn't shown on them. I knew what was happening and I bolted, just in time it looks like. Wait a minute, Michael, you didn't think that I…" she trailed off.

Michael rushed to the bed. His feelings of grief dissolved and a new one washed over him: anger.

"Fiona!" he yelled at her, jerking her by the arms to a stand. "Why in the hell didn't you answer your phone?"

"Michael, phones don't fair very well in an explosion. "

It was then that Michael noticed the small cuts and scrapes that were scattered about Fiona's face and arms. "The blast," he said flatly.

"Michael, I'm so-"

"Shhh," Michael whispered placing his index finger over Fiona's lips.

She looked up at him and could see the love in his eyes. He took her face in both of his hands and pressed his lips to her forehead. Then he trailed his kisses around to the various tiny wounds that marred her otherwise flawless complexion. He kissed each one while wrapping one hand around her back and bringing the other one to tangle it up in her hair.

"Fiona, I thought I lost you. I was so scared." His voice quavered.

Now it was her turn to shush him. "Shhh, Michael. It's okay. I'm okay."

He bent down and kissed her passionately. He led her to the bed.

The next morning Michael looked over and saw Fiona's face lying softly on the pillow next to him. He lifted a hand to gently stroke her face. He got up as quietly as he could as to not disturb her. Looking at the discarded clothes of the night before brought a smile to his face. After dressing, he slipped out of the loft to get some coffee.