Thanks for the reviews and keep 'em coming! Here is the promised fluff piece! Don't own Burn Notice. Enjoy!
They stood in the parking lot of one of Miami's top used car dealers. Michael was bored. Fiona was picky.
How exactly he'd gotten himself bullied into purchasing her a new car he didn't recall. But he wasn't going to go back on his word. Not when she would taunt him for it for all eternity.
"I said imported Michael," Fiona said, slamming the door of the Mustang Michael had found for her.
"But you also said no to the last car."
"Nissan's don't count."
"Why?"
"They just don't."
"BMW," Michael said, "imported. Black. Two door. Convertible. Check."
"Nope."
"Volvo?" Michael suggested as they sat in the Charger, perusing listings online before trying their next dealership.
"Do I look like a soccer mom Michael?"
"Okay, we'll take that as a no."
"I like it," Fiona said.
She was standing at the front of a black, Saab convertible.
Two door, convertible, imported, black. Check.
"You want a Saab?" Michael asked, hoping she wouldn't change her mind, but also desperately curious.
"Yeah. Why not?" Fi countered.
"You're a gun runner."
"And?"
"Saab's don't really scream IRA operative to me," Michael replied.
"Exactly," Fiona said, getting in, starting the engine and slamming the door.