Title: When You're a Spy...
Author: Evil_Little_Dog
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: Fuse, Flying Glass of Milk, and a lot of other people own this. Not me. So I'm not making any money, drat it.
Summary: They're all professionals, whether Michael remembers it or not.
Sam rolled his eyes, saying, "Got it, Mikey," and punched the 'end' button on his cell phone. He tossed the phone over his shoulder into the back seat.
"Bad call?" Fiona asked, her brows arching over the rims of her sunglasses.
"It's crazy, Fi. I mean, I know Mikey's like, super-spy, or something." Sam slapped his palms on the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, he turned slightly to face her. "Has he ever done that thing with his voice?"
Fiona pursed her lips. "That thing with his voice?"
"You know, the super explain everything as a spy voice," Sam said. He hand-puppeted, imitating Michael's voice, saying, "When I was a spy, blah, blah, blah."
Shifting her sunglasses down, Fiona stared at him. "He does it to you, too? I thought it was just me!"
"Oh, no, sister," Sam shook his head. "Maddy's even complained about it. Jesse, too. We gotta do something. We're all professionals." He hesitated, his eyes trailing over Fiona's one-shouldered tank top and down to her high heel sandals, "In our own ways, but we all know as much as Mikey does."
Her mouth tightened, probably from the way he'd looked at her. "I suggest we have a discussion with Michael then, and remind him just how professional we can be." That she chambered a round in her sawed-off shot gun as she said it probably would be a warning to anyone else. Fortunately, this time, she was mad at Mikey, and not him.
Sam's grin stopped midway through. "Damn. You know, he'd think this is like an intervention or something." Fiona groaned as Sam said, "You know how he does with interventions."
"Then we tie him down, and gag him, and make him listen," she growled.
"Whoa, there." Sam raised his hands. "That's more your thing, Fi. I mean, I'm the talk things out over a mojito type of guy. I guess in Mikey's case, that'd be a yogurt."
"It's settled," Fiona said, like she was in her own little world, "I'll call Maddy, you call Jesse, and we'll meet up at the warehouse. Michael needs to know that we're just as smart as he is."
"Ah, one thing, Fi." Shaking a finger at her little nose, Sam said, "Bad guy first. Mikey can wait. Remember, we're on the job."
Flopping back into the car set with a 'hmph!', Fiona set down her shotgun so she could fold her arms. "I hate when you're the rational one."
Sam grinned. "Yeah, well, it's good to be the king, baby." Ignoring her glare, he picked up his field glasses and glanced through them. Better to be looking anywhere than at Fiona Glenanne at the moment. At least until she got a chance to light into Mikey. His smile broadened. Yeah, something to look forward to later.
~ end ~
