A/N: Thank you to everyone for the reviews, PM's, and for all of the follows, favourite author and story adds. I really do appreciate all of your comments. I wish I had more time to send a personal reply to everyone but with Christmas and RL, it has been more hectic than usual.

Huge thanks to my wonderful friends Purdy's Pal and JediSkysinger for reading through this for me, and to JediSkysinger for finding the time to BETA for me.

Also much love to DaisyDay and to all of the lovely girls on twitter

2

The silence in the burnt out loft was deafening, but that wasn't the only thing that was causing Michael's heart to beat faster. Here he was, standing with the one person he loved most in the world and she was glaring at him with nothing but disappointment in her eyes.

Opening his mouth to speak, he tried to think of everything he wanted to say to her and condense it into something beautiful, but his brain wouldn't work. He knew she thought he'd planned this, but he hadn't. He didn't lie to her when he told her that he would leave and they would be together; he still wanted all of the same things that she did. He just had to make her understand that all of those things would have to be postponed for a little longer.

He watched the myriad of emotions transforming her face and found himself transported back to when he could only see her through a glass wall. She had to know that he couldn't live like that again. That's not the life he wanted for her.

Trying again, he reached out to graze her arm with his fingertips, needing the feel of her skin beneath his, but when she didn't respond to him, he lowered his hand again and tried to gather every ounce of his courage before he met her glare with what he hoped was a loving gaze.

"I know you think I wanted this," he started cautiously, watching her for any kind of reaction. "But I didn't go in with any intentions of—"

"Oh, come on, Michael," she spat, breaking her stony silence. "You expect me to believe that the CIA dragged you back to them kicking and screaming?"

"Fi—"

"This is what you wanted from the moment you were burned," her voice rose when she cut through his words, her anger peaking fiercely to cause her eyes to flare with defiance. "Well, good for you, you got what you wanted in the end, right?"

"NO!" Surging forward, he grabbed hold of her arm and yanked her towards him, his grip tightening when she fought against him. "FIONA!"

"GET your DAMN hands offa me," she growled as she pushed him backwards and kicked him so hard he yelped out in pain.

He strengthened his grip, refusing to release her despite the throbbing pain in his knee. Reaching around her, he twisted her backwards so that she had her back pinned against his chest, part of him relishing the heat from her body as they both gasped for breath. Holding her tighter, he fought the sudden urge to press kisses over her neck and whisper to her how much he had missed her. But despite how much he wanted to make things right and explain himself, his CIA instincts took over.

"Not until you LISTEN to me," he hissed angrily, tightening his hold on her. "Let me explain."

Fiona reacted quickly and threw her head backwards, the loud crack resounding throughout the loft when her head came into contact with his nose. Momentarily stunned, he released his hold for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Fiona to break free of his grip and scoot away from him.

They stared at each other breathlessly, both of them reeling from what had just happened. But instead of Fiona reacting with violence, she caught him by surprise when she crumbled before his eyes. Tears slipped down her cheeks unchecked when she shook her head helplessly and sobbed out her frustrations. She had nothing left to give him; he'd taken it all and left her with nothing but emptiness.

Unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer, she sniffed and swiped her hands across her face at the same time, angrier at herself than she was with him right now. She was tired and sad, defeated and utterly broken…she hated crying, especially in front of him. He'd brought her to tears so many times and she had just had enough. She had to get away if she was ever going to find any remnants of her old self. She had to leave Miami.

Her whole body shook as she turned away from him and tried to reign in the grief for her lost family, her lost life and her lost relationship.

She felt Michael's gentle touch on her shoulder as he tried to turn her around to face him but she fought with him even now. She couldn't just take it anymore, not when his false promises had destroyed everything they'd worked for over the last six years.

Fiona's eyes clamped shut as she tried not to let her chaotic emotions influence her into making a wrong decision. She didn't want to leave him, she really didn't, but how could she not? Michael had to understand that he couldn't keep treating her this way and expect her to accept it. Thoughtlessness was one thing, but blatantly disregarding her was something else entirely. Yes, in time she would forgive him, because she knew that sometimes he could be totally clueless. But there were just some things that she couldn't disregard and she doubted that she would forget about his latest decision in a hurry.

So where did that leave her? Even if she forgave him, the last few months would still have happened. He had still left her, and their friends, to sit in a tiny cell without any kind of explanation, regardless of his lame excuses. Did he just expect her to understand it and carry on as if nothing had happened? Taking a shaky breath, she pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes to try and stop them from watering, but she couldn't seem to stem the flow.

"Fiona," his voice surrounded her as he tried to soothe her with his touch. "Please just…talk to me…"

"What do you want me to say?" she asked him, her voice catching as she spoke. "I've heard all of the excuses, Michael…there's nothing you can say to make up for what you did."

"I know," he nodded. "But I would like a chance to explain myself."

"You're always trying to explain yourself," she sighed. "It just gets us nowhere in the end."

"Please just hear me out okay…that's all I'm asking…just let me—"

"And what if I still decide to leave when you're done explaining? Will you try and stop me when I don't want to watch you turn into the people you said you hated?"

"I…"

Pulling away from him, she turned around to face him, her sadness dying away to be replaced by a solemn acceptance that this really was the end of them.

"Would you fight for me, Michael?" Her voice was level as she spoke and it scared him more than he could ever admit. She was always so effervescent and her smile was one to match a thousand stars, but the look in her eyes was far from the vibrant woman he'd come to love so much.

"I have fought for you," he urged as he tried to make her understand. "I love you, why do you think I got back in? I needed to keep you safe."

"By re-joining the people who burned you?" Pulling away from him, she swallowed against the rawness in her throat as she regarded him carefully. Looking over his suit, she folded her arms across her chest as her tough mask fell over her face once more "Yeah…It really looks like you did all of this for me."

Michael watched her as she struggled to keep herself from shaking, and not for the first time since this whole nightmare began, he cursed himself for making a decision without thinking of what it would do to her. He needed her so much that sometimes he didn't know how he had ever survived all of those years without her. How could one person weave themselves inside another's heart so tightly? She was everything, had always been everything. So why had he managed to try and do the right thing only to hurt her so badly?

"Fi, listen to me…"

"Why did you say you meant it, Michael?" she asked suddenly, her soft voice disabling him. "I asked you not to say it if you didn't mean it."

Michael's heart lurched inside his chest when he remembered the exact conversation that they'd had in Panama. He had meant it, of course he had, but things weren't so simple now. Before he could answer her she spoke again, her emotionless voice sending fear through his body.

"I guess when it came down to it; you just loved your job more."

"What? No…Fiona…" Moving towards her, he reached out to take her hand, but before he knew what was happening, she turned on him again.

Whipping around to face him again, she surveyed him watching her, his expression one of sheer apprehension. Suddenly, she felt her hurt transform into irritation when her mouth spurred on ahead of her brain. "Shall we talk about how you seem to think you can do anything you want, and know you can get away with it because I love you too damn much?"

Michael opened his mouth to tell her no, but closed it again when she took a step towards him. "Shall we talk about how you seem to forget about me every time it suits you?"

"Fiona, I've never forgotten about you—"

"No?" she asked, her voice rising. "So what was all that crap you spouted in Panama? Did you hope that by promising me something you never planned to give me that I'd be okay?"

"You know I meant it," he insisted. "I thought about you—"

"Okay," she nodded. "When?"

"When, what?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Was it before or after you decided to sign away your soul?"

"Fi—"

"Was it before or after you remembered that the rest of us were living in separate cells while you were running around in your plush suit…" She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to answer, feeling powerful and afraid all in one moment. "Well? Aren't you going to come out with one of your explanations? Because you must know they aren't going to work this time."

Michael was fast becoming frustrated. Yes, he had acted without thinking how she would feel about this. He just hadn't thought at the time that by making a deal and re-joining the agency that it would cause so much damage to his relationship with Fiona. He wished he wanted to take it all back, but the truth was he didn't know how.

He had to find a way to do the job and hold onto the woman he loved, without the two of them intruding on the other. He needed to fix this whole mess, but he couldn't seem to find the right words and his silence only seemed to be angering Fiona further.

"You can't answer me, can you?"

"FIONA," he snapped, but immediately regretting his sharp retort. Drawing in another breath, he reached out to her but she stepped out of his grasp.

She turned away from him then and moved back towards the pile of photographs on the floor. Swallowing hard, Fiona sank down onto her knees beside them and ran her fingertip over the blurred image of her mother.

"I'll never see my mother again," she spoke so softly that he almost didn't hear her at first. "I've lost everything."

Michael closed his eyes against the visions swirling around inside his head. All he could think of was how much he had hurt her and how she had suffered alone and in silence while he was out making a deal to secure their futures. Opening his eyes again, he could see the anguish in her gaze and slowly moved closer towards her.

"I know, Fi, and I am truly sorry. I know what you've lost because of me—"

"I don't think you do," she told him quickly, looking up to meet his eyes. "Remember when you told me if I cared about you then I damned well should want for you what you wanted for yourself?"

Her words struck him, had he really said that to her? Thinking back he realised that he was a different man back then. He was selfish and only had one goal in mind, but that was before he almost lost her.

"I remember," he nodded solemnly. "But that was a long time ago."

"But the sentiment is exactly the same," she challenged miserably. "You might think you were ready to give up on your spy life, but we both know you'll never be ready."

"Fiona, I did this to protect you…to protect all of us—"

"YOU DID THIS BECAUSE IT'S WHAT YOU WANTED," she yelled angrily as she snatched a limp photo up and waved it in the air. "So this means what? I go back to waiting around for six months without any word whether you're dead or alive? You think I'd be happy about living that life again?"

Sighing heavily, he moved closer and knelt down on the floor beside her. "It won't be like that this time," he promised. "I made a deal because it's what I needed to do for the team…why can't you be happy about this?"

The second those words left his lips, he knew it had been a mistake. The light in her eyes all but disappeared to be replaced by nothing but pure disbelief. Shaking her head, she tore her eyes away and returned her attention to what was left of her possessions.

"You expect me to be happy about this because of what? What makes you think I need your protection?" Piling the sodden photographs onto her lap, she clutched them together before she got to her feel. "You can't protect me, Michael. You'll never be home long enough to do it."

Michael drew in a sharp breath and tried to formulate some kind of reply, but the spitfire that he loved so much had already rebuffed anything he might say.

"And having your agents tail me wherever I go is not protecting me, it's just pissing me off!"

The breath left Michael's lungs in seconds and it took every ounce of strength he had to pull himself back and stop her from leaving.

"I was worried—"

"Worried I'd leave?" she hissed angrily as she threw one of her hands in the air. "Tell me, Michael, where would I go exactly?"

"Fi—"

"No, Michael, tell me where?" Stepping away from him, she turned full circle indicating the burned out husk that used to be her home. "Everything I once owned is in here. I have no clothes, no passport…where do you think I'm going to go?"

"With me," he urged quickly before she could move away. "I found us an apartment. I thought—"

"You found an apartment…" Closing her eyes, she lowered her head as the ache from lack of sleep pounded through her skull. A few years ago she would have been overjoyed about him putting down roots and thinking of settling down, but she knew it wouldn't last. She was exhausted and emotional, but none of it eased the sting of his betrayal.

"Yes," he tried again. "I'm trying to make things right, Fi…"

Make things right? His words echoed inside her head and she suddenly heard herself laughing a humorless, hollow laugh. There were some mistakes he couldn't just fix with outlandish gestures and empty promises. He'd kept his promises to everyone to make things right, everyone except her. Maybe it really was too late.

Drawing in a shallow breath, she slowly lifted her head and opened her eyes. The man she loved was standing before her with a look of hope and fear in his gaze, but he was only simmering beneath the CIA man he had once again become.

"I've lost you, Michael," she told him in a whisper, her voice bearing the weight of her sorrow. "The man I loved will be gone a year from now and all that will be left in his place will be the man who left me in Ireland."

"How can you say that to me?" he asked flatly when she shook her head in sorrow. Stepping closer, he reached for her and yanked her against his chest, holding on tight even though her arms remained limply at her sides. "I didn't do this to hurt you."

Closing her eyes tightly, Fiona lifted her free hand and held him for a few seconds before she slowly pushed him away from her. She glanced around the blackened walls of the loft and released a sad sigh when she allowed the memories of the past to flow through her. He'd given her a glimpse of what it had been like to be his first priority…but that had already changed.

"I know you didn't," she told him, all the fight in her gone. Maybe she should just head back to Madeline's and try to get some sleep, but she knew if she did then Michael would only follow.

"I can't talk about this right now…maybe later when it's not so raw…I just can't…"

Michael watched on helplessly when she huddled the photographs against her chest and slowly moved towards the loft door. It was going to be a long time before she slept, but maybe she could find a cheap motel somewhere just for a couple of nights…just until she could process, but before she could step over the threshold and out into the night, his voice stopped her.

"Where are you going?"

That was a very good question, one that right now she didn't know how to answer. Without looking back, she shrugged her shoulders and stepped fully outside to gasp in a lungful of the cool night air. The breeze lingered around her body, causing goose bumps to pepper her skin. All she had left were the clothes she was wearing and she hadn't really thought about anything else since she'd been taken off to Madeline's house in a daze.

Lifting her face up into the night sky, she suddenly felt incredibly weary. After all these months of prison, Nate's death and essentially running for their lives had culminated into this moment…a disappointing and devastating moment. She was living in an endless blur, ruled by hurt and anger, both of which were distorting the logical side of her that had lived with loss before.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and she knew by her body's reaction that Michael was standing right behind her. Shivering slightly, she clamped her eyes closed and waited for him to pass her, but when he didn't move, she opened her eyes and wrapped one of her hands over the metal railings around the loft steps.

"What do you want from me, Michael?" she asked tiredly. Why couldn't he just leave her alone to recover and formulate some kind of plan?

"I want you to understand why I did it," he told her softly, giving in to his temptations to touch her. Stepping closer, he laid his hand over her shoulder, instantly feeling the chill of her skin beneath his fingers. "I thought I was doing the right thing. They were going to throw all of you in prison forever. They wanted—"

Turning around to face him, she felt a tear slip down her cheek as she clutched her photographs closer.

"I know," she nodded brokenly. "I really do…and I told you once before that you should do what you needed to do."

"So, you know why I did it?" he asked hopefully, even though by the look in her eyes he knew that she didn't.

"You made a deal for everyone," she agreed. "You mom got her life back, Sam's back with Elsa and Jesse got his job back with a recommendation from the CIA…"

"Fi," he spoke her name softly because he knew what she was going to say. He'd made things right for all of them, but when it came to her, even his new CIA position couldn't fully erase her past. Reaching out to touch her again, he wasn't surprised when she shied away from him.

"You have your life back," she nodded as she slowly turned away to begin the walk down the metal steps. "You did what you had to do…"

"Fiona," he gasped out her name and started after her, only to grab hold of her arm to keep her from moving any further. "I kept you safe, too. They were talking of MI6 and deportation…I couldn't let them do that."

"I wish I could believe that you only did this to save us...but I know you, Michael, the CIA offering you everything you've wanted since you were burned was just too tempting to turn down wasn't it?" she asked knowingly, challenging him to answer her with the truth. When he opened his mouth to answer but couldn't, she nodded again, a humorless smile forming over her lips.

"I thought so…"

Pulling herself from his grasp, she turned away from him and continued down the metal steps, her footsteps echoing beneath her shoes.

"Wait…Where are you going?"

"To find a place where I can shower and change," she told him emotionlessly when she finally reached the bottom. "Then I'm going to burn these damn clothes."

Following her down the stairs, he walked swiftly by her side, matching her pace even when she moved faster. It was three in the morning and they were both running on adrenalin, but he'd come to the conclusion that the only way to get through to her was to show her with his actions that nothing had changed between them.

"I'll go with you," he told her defiantly when she shot him an irritated glare.

"Don't you have some CIA agents to order around or a mission to go on?" she snapped back. "Go back to your agency friends, Michael."

With increasing frustration, Michael reached out and caught her arm, stopping her mid stride as he yanked her around to face him. He'd had enough of this back and forth. He'd had enough of explaining his actions and it was time she damn well listened. Tightening his hold on her arm, he kept her grounded to the same spot and looked her right in the eyes.

It was time she listened to what he had to say…

TBC