The early morning's sun filters in through the skylight and Fiona's eyelids flutter reluctantly against the rays. She's been awake for a while, snug and content in the arms of Michael Westen. She opens her eyes to greet the day.

Michael is still sleeping soundly beside her. His left arm's draped over her hip, keeping her close to him. She rests her head against his chest and tries to recapture the blissful peace she'd felt when her eyes were still closed. She moves ever closer to michael, pulling the silky sheets over her bare shoulders.

And now as she watches him, Fiona knows this is what she wants. Before they were together she'd often wondered if he was as perfect as he appears. As much as she had wanted to hate him and convinced herself that he could not be trusted, she had allowed herself to accept that this spy, with his skills,his smile,gallant personality was her man.

She smiles as her eyes trace over the little frown lines creasing around his mouth as he sleeps on. His thick, dark locks are disheveled against his pillow and his slow; even breaths tickle against her skin while he sleeps on.

It's still a surprise, and a mystery, to Fiona that Michael Westen has been her boyfriend, and now he was again. She's normally always so sensible, and too careful, to gamble with her heart,especially after Ireland.

But Michael was different...he had always been different to Fiona.

She had never had such strong feelings for any other man.

Michael wakes up to the sun shining in from the sky-light and prickling warmly against the bare skin of his shoulder. He utters a soft groan as he shifts amongst the messy, tangled bed covers. He stretches out, long and languidly with his arms, reaching blindly for her. The other side of the small bed is empty but the sheets still hold the trace of warmth and the delicate fragrance of her perfume.

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth and he lifts and cranes his head to look across the room. He can smell the tangy scent of Aloha Island's dark roast. The coffee's aroma works its way across the room and tingles at his nostrils. Its fi's favorite, he buys it in just for her as she's taken to staying over a few nights every week and she claims she can't function without it. but now he had asked her to move in-the loft was now officially his and Fiona's.

He sees Fiona standing by the kitchens table. She's wearing his favorite robe and her red hair is ruffled from sleep. She holds a mug of steaming coffee in hand and is staring out at the waking morning.

Michael smiles goofily; he likes having her around. It's been a while since he's woken up to someone else pottering around his loft, sharing his bed and making him smile that sweet, silly smile – with its own tell-tale way of telling him that he has fun with this woman, that he enjoys her company and that he cares. That's somewhat long-forgotten, a little scary but it is comforting all the same.

He shrugs off the white linen and quietly moves up from the bed. He pulls on a pair of paisley pajama bottoms, not worrying about a shirt. He doesn't have to be at the agency until Pierce comes back from an opp and he's hoping to entice fiona back into his bed.

"Hey," he says in a low, husky voice.

Fiona feels the warm arms envelope her at the waist, and then the telling scratch of early morning stubble brushing against her cheek.

"Good morning," he whispers against her skin, pressing a kiss at her cheek. She turns in his arms, to face him and places her coffee mug carefully on to the nearby table. She then reaches up for a long, slow kiss by way of a proper morning greeting.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks. His eyes scan over the collection of take-out containers, empty wine glasses and some bug toys. He hadn't cleaned; he hadn't expected to see her last night.

"Well...," she replies nuzzling against him. "You provided a good distraction."

"Glad I could help."

"You should get going," She utters, glancing at the clock to the right. She pulls from his arms and pads back over to the couch; to where they'd deposited her dress hastily the night before.

Michael follows her; he gently takes hold of her wrist. His fingers curl over delicate skin, and the cheeky and boyish grin makes its way back to his mouth. She kisses him softly before he pulls her to him and deepens the kiss. She knows that look and that move; she's given in to both many times before.

"Pierce's given me the morning off…." He brings her in close, until the tip of his nose touches with hers. "I think we should take full advantage of a rare opportunity." His lips find hers; the hand that has secured itself around her wrist now travels up to bury itself in her hair. The other pries the dress from Fiona's hand, dropping it onto the couch.

"Hey." As much as she's tempted to stay she has an early morning meeting with a client so she pulls away from him. She lifts the white dress back up from the couch again. "You do realise im not letting you go once you stay." she purred threatening him.

"Ill be late that way." Michael smiles , catching her again all too easily. He knows she's teasing him now and his keen fingers begin to string the ties of her silk robe.

"Cant say i care if you are," Fiona protests, but only weakly as Michael's lips brush against her's."But-You've still got ten minutes," she says sternly but she moves in ever closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him that sexy,knowingly smile she made whenever sex crossed her mind.

"I can work with that." Michael grins, letting her robe slip down to the floor before leading her back over to the bed.

To be continued….

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