A/N this story takes place sometime between Dead Drop and False Flag.
I do not own Burn Notice (I wish I did. Then I'd get to hang with Jefferey Donovan! Talk about adorable! but than Fi would probably blow me apart...) Anyway...story now!
Little Lion Man
Chapter 1
As a spy, you learn that friends are often no more than a burden or something that can be held over your head by the bad guys so they can get what they want. In my experience, friends can be like that, but I've learned they can be useful assets—and more importantly, they keep you from going completely insane with loneliness and the guilt of killing.
"Michael, where did you put all my C-4?" Fi searched through her duffel bags somewhere above him.
Michael Westen glanced up from his blueberry yogurt. "I moved it."
"Where? I need it for a job I'm doing!" Fiona Glennane stomped down the rickety metal stairs and strode over to face him. Michael couldn't help but notice how incredibly short her dress was today. In combination with the four-inch heels, she proved to be utterly distracting.
"What kind of job?" He asked, pulling out another yogurt and spoon and holding it out to her. She didn't take it, so Michael raised an eyebrow and replaced the items where they belonged.
"You don't need to know." She said, avoiding the question easily. "Can I have my explosives now?" Fi asked. She leaned closer to him over the countertop. "Please?"
Michael paused for a moment, acting like he was trying to decide. Actually, her outfit had made him forget where it was hidden.
"I have an idea. Tell me what the job is and I'll give it to you." Michael didn't meet her eyes, pretending he was scraping the last of his yogurt out of the bottom of the container. God, he loved yogurt.
"Fine." Fiona sighed. "My client wants me to help her out. She said the Russian mafia is coming after her for something or another."
"That sounds serious Fi. Blowing up Russians isn't going to help. That'll just piss them off." Michael stopped what he was doing in order to give her serious look.
"I'm not actually trying to kill them, I just want to scare them off." Fi sounded offended, but Michael knew she really wasn't. "I was going to ask if you wanted to help… you'd even get half of the pay…"
"Fi, you know I'm busy right now with this whole Cowan thing. I have no clue when he's gonna show."
Fiona seemed to stare straight into his soul with those beautiful green eyes. "There's a kid involved."
Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Fiona had hit a nerve with those simple words. Kids had always been Michael's weak spot. He'd do anything to keep a child safe.
"All right, I'm in."
"Good. Now can I have my C-4 back?" She asked politely.
"Not until we need it." He replied simply.
"Hmph. Whatever. I'm going to meet with our client in an hour. Meet us at Reinhold's Café then."
"I'll see you there." Michael promised. Then he noticed the white of a bandage peeking out from under the material of the dress that covered her shoulder. Wait. What happened here?" He asked, stepping closer to her.
"Nothing. I tripped." She dodged it yet again. "By the way Michael," Fi said before walking out the door. "You forgot to check my purse." She held up two little gray packages of the explosives.
Michael smiled after she walked out triumphantly.
No one could come between Fi and her C-4. Not even an ex-spy.
*(*)*
"Thank you so much for coming." The client stood up and greeted Michael warmly. "I'm Ninel Miller."
Fiona sat at the opposite side of Ninel at the little table on the street. He pulled up a wicker chair and sat next to her, leaning forward on the glass surface, ready to listen to the clients story.
"Tell him what happened Ninel. He's helping me with your case." Fiona commented when she noticed how reluctant the client was.
" I was a born Russian, Mr. Westen, and my father managed to get my brother and I out in 1987. I was only one month old at the time. My brother was already four. No one ever really explained why we had to leave St. Petersburg."
"How'd he get you out? I thought the curtain was still up in '87." Michael asked, taking a sip out of the glass of water the waitress had brought him.
"To a degree, yes. I don't know how he did it, he just smuggled us out as fast he could and we lived in Pittsburgh for about 10 years before we moved down here. It was after my father died that things started flaring up. I started getting these calls from Russian hit men. They were looking for my brother—they said that he had stolen something valuable to them."
"When did your father die, Ninel?" Fiona asked.
"A year ago."
"Are you married?"
"No. I'm a widow. They say my husband Jake died in a car crash, but I think they killed him. Now it's just me and my two year old." She said. Grief was clear in her eyes, but she held it together, not allowing herself to cry.
"Do you have any idea what your brother might have stolen? Or when he might have taken it?" asked Michael. He was starting to see more complications arise by the minute.
"I have no clue what he would've taken, but he did take my father's body back to Russia after he died. Maybe he made his move when he was there." She suggested
"It makes sense," Fi admitted. She took another swig of her lemonade. "You say that they didn't start coming after you until after your father died. That means it quite likely that he took the thing and high tailed it back to America."
"Okay, have any names of the people harassing you?"
"Only one would give me his name. Leonid Merenov. He says he's the leader."
Michael leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The leader of what though?" He muttered to himself. "Where is your son now?"
"He's staying with some friends. I didn't want to leave him on his own or bring him along." Ninel rummaged through her purse and pulled out an envelope that was full to bursting. "I can give you ten thousand, cash. Please. I just need to figure out what's happening. They've been threatening to hurt my son." Now a single tear trailed down her face.
"We'll help you. Now, if you get any more calls or anything from this Merenov person, I want you to tell us, okay? Make sure you keep your son in the safest place possible. We'll get back to you when we get something. Until then, act normal. Did you call the police?"
"No. They threatened to kill my child."
Michael had no choice in the matter. He agreed to take the case with Fiona. When the grateful women left, they sat there awkwardly, unsure what to say to each other.
Fiona made the first move. "Well, do you think we should call Sam?"
"Yeah. I'll ask him what he can find on Merenov and we'll go from there. I'll be back at the loft, if you find anything call me." Michael stated simply. He put his sunglasses back on and took out his keys, climbing in the Charger and starting it up.
The other door opened and Fi climbed in next to him. "I think I'll join you."
"Okay, then."
"So… what do you think of this new case we have?" Fi asked, popping a piece of gum into her mouth.
"It's… interesting. I only wonder what her brother stole to make the Russians mad."
"For all we know it could be something stupid. Nowadays Russians are easy to anger." Fiona said this as if she knew from experience. It wouldn't be surprising if she did know this from experience.
"Fi are you trying to tell me something?" Michael asked, glancing over at her during a red light. They turned the corner and pulled up to the gate in front of the stairs to the loft. Michael got up and unlocked the padlock and opened them.
"Well… no." Fi waited to answer until the car was parked, the gate relocked and they were in the loft.
"Yes, you are. What did you do?"
"Nothing. I just… kind of know the guys who are after her."
"And…?" He prompted.
"Now that they know I'm with her… they're…after me again."
Michael gaped at her. "How do they know we're helping her?"
"They saw us when she met me the first time. They shot at us a couple times, and we both ran. Either way, they know I'm involved." She shrugged like it was no big deal; like it were something she dealt with daily. Which she kind of did, of course.
"So that's where this came from?" Michael asked, gently touching the bandage on her right shoulder.
"They just clipped me. Not really bad at all, but yes."
"You going to head back to anytime soon Fi?" Michael asked, grabbing yet another yogurt.
"My, my, Michael. Trying to get rid of me?"
"No. I was actually going to try and convince you to stay. They might be waiting at your place."
"I guess I can spend the night. Where should I sleep?"
"I don't know. The bed."
"And where will you sleep?"
"The floor, I guess."
Fiona sighed. "You know, for being a hopeless romantic you're pretty chivalrous."
"What, you wanna sleep on the floor?" He offered with a half smile.
Fiona didn't answer, simply plopping onto the stacked mattresses and ignoring him.
"I thought so."
*(*)*
"Hey, Sam. What did you find on Merenov?" Michael asked quietly, trying not to wake Fi
"Well, Mike, he's a tricky bastard. He's been accused of seven different murders but they've all been dismissed as self-defense. He worked as a bodyguard for the Russian president for nearly twenty years before he was fired—no clue why though. He managed to get back in two years ago after cleaning his files up."
A knock at the door interrupted Sam's findings. "One sec, Sam. Someone's at the door." Michael put the phone down. Fiona lifted her head slowly, looking drowsy but somewhat alert. The knocking had wakened her.
Grabbing his M1911 from where it lay, he checked it for ammo and cocked the slide back quietly.
He yanked the door open, aiming right at a man in a black suit. Before he could even get off a shot, the man twisted his gun away from him and smashed his knee into ribs. Michael fell to the ground, gasping for air. He scrabbled to where his gun had fallen, but the man stopped him with another swift kick to the ribs. Michael heard two ris snap the same time pain rushed to him. Colors swam before his eyes, but he still saw the man in a suits buddy holding onto a struggling Fiona.
After holding a cloth to her mouth, she fell limp in his arms.
Michael passed out.
*(*)*
Okay, first Burn Notice fanfic! I just recently got into it and I started watching episodes on the internet. I just HAD to write a story! I mean these characters are just so epic, I couldn't help but steal them for a while.
and the title, Little Lion Man, is a song by Mumford and Sons is what i listened to while I wrote this. I think that the song really seems to fit Mike, Sam and Fiona, anyway, I don't own Mumford and Sons either so phooey on that.
Please review and critique! Please! Tell me if you hate it or something at least! I'd like at least two reviews before I post the second chapter.