Chapter two has arrived! It's slightly shorter than the first chapter, but there is a lot more action. I'm not quite used to writing that, so I'm a bit nervous. But I hope everyone will enjoy this update!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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"You want a yogurt, Fi?"

Fiona looked up from the file she was reading over to see Michael standing by the bed, a yogurt in his hand. She smiled and took the offered yogurt. Then she sat up and crossed her legs, pulling the top off of the cup. "Thanks."

He sat down beside her, letting their sides touch. "Have you found anything interesting?"

"Maybe." He handed her a spoon, and she dipped it into the yogurt. "There's a guy that she works with who has a rap sheet as long as your arm. Stalking, drug possession, petty theft…"

"Sounds like the right pedigree. What's his name?" He took her spoon and stole a bite of the yogurt, ignoring the dangerous look she gave him.

She huffed, holding her yogurt closer to herself. "His name is Steve Holbrook."

Gently nudging her over, he sat down on the mattress with her. Then he peered over her shoulder at the file in her slender hand. "He does seem like a likely candidate." Leaning over, he nuzzled her neck lightly.

Fiona's eyes closed slowly. "Michael…"

He grinned, and the file slipped out of her hand and hit the floor.

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The next evening, Fiona watched Abby as she paced nervously around her living room. "Calm down, Abby. Everything is going to be fine."

"How do you know that?"

"Because this is what we do." Michael and Sam were outside in the shadows, waiting for Steve to make his appearance. Abby said there was always someone outside around ten p.m., right when she was winding down for the night. She would catch a glimpse of a shadow or hear the rustling of shrubs outside, but by the time she got out there, he would always be gone. So Michael and Sam were waiting for him, while Fiona stayed inside with Abby in case he escalated his behavior and tried to break in. "We have it under control."

As she said that, the phone on her hip began to vibrate. She swiftly grabbed it and brought it up to her ear. "Michael?"

"Everything looks good out here, Fi."

"Okay." She slid the phone back into her pocket, then gave Abby a reassuring smile. "Everything is fine outside."

"It is?"

"Yes." Reaching out, Fiona gently grasped Abby's arm and led her into the kitchen. "Why don't you get a drink of water-"

The eruption of gunfire and an ensuing fight interrupted her, and Fiona growled softly as Abby shrieked. Without hesitation, Fiona shoved the younger woman to the floor, out of harm's way. Then she grabbed her Walther from the holster at her ankle and ran toward the door.

As she exploded into the night air, the gunfire suddenly ceased. Fiona glanced around, her heart racing and adrenaline coursing through her body.

"Fiona!"

That was Sam's voice. A violent shudder went through her at the panic that laced his voice. Sam never panicked. Oh, God, something was wrong… She broke into a dead run toward Sam's voice, her gun raised and her finger resting on the trigger.

Around the corner, beside the house, she saw two figures. One was sprawled out on the ground, and the other was in a kneeling position beside the injured party. "Sam?"

Sam swung his gaze toward her, his normally friendly eyes filled with concern. "Fi! The son of a bitch got away!"

Fiona shoved her gun into the holster and fell to her knees beside Sam. Michael was on his back, unmoving and with his eyes closed. "What happened?" she snarled, her small hands instinctively moving over Michael's body.

"The son of a bitch got the drop on Mikey! He slammed Mike's head into the house. I hit him, but he must have been wearing a vest, cause he got away." He scrubbed his hand anxiously over his face.

Fiona's hands moved up to Michael's head, and her stomach rolled when she felt a long, jagged wound on the back of Michael's head. There was blood everywhere, but he was breathing and his heart was beating. "We have to get him out of here."

"What about Abby? This guy almost killed Mike. She's no match against the son of a bitch."

Growling angrily, Fiona ran her fingers through Michael's hair. "Help me get him to the loft. You can take the girl to Madeline's."

"Okay. Okay." Sam slid his hands under Michael, not wanting to argue with Fiona right then. "Let's do this."

Fiona ran her fingertip along the side of Michael's face, and she winced at the blood that already stained her hands.

Michael's blood.

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By the morning light, Fiona was curled up beside Michael in their bed. Sam had taken Abby over to Madeline's, and he had sent an old buddy over to the loft to check Michael over. Fiona had almost shot him, until she realized that he actually was someone that she could trust. It was very hard for her to stand back and place Michael's care into the hands of a stranger, but she had to do what was best for him.

The gash in the back of his head had taken more than a dozen stitches to close, and Sam's buddy, who introduced himself simply as Elias, had handed Fiona a bottle of painkillers along with a bagful of supplies needed to keep the injury clean and dry. He had also told her that the injury was severe enough to have a number of side effects, including nausea, double vision, mood swings and possibly temporary memory loss. All of those things seemed irrelevant to Fiona, though. As long as Michael was alive, they could deal with anything else that came their way.

Now she was snuggled into Michael's side, with her arm draped possessively over his waist and her head on his shoulder. She wasn't used to seeing him so still, and it was deeply unsettling. She resisted the urge to kick him awake several times during the night, despite Elias' warnings. She had to be patient.

Unfortunately, patient was not a word Fiona was accustomed to.

She snuggled closer to him, distracting herself. It wasn't very often that she was the care-taker. He was a stubborn man, after all. But when he woke up this time, she would ignore him when he would try to tell her that he was okay. She knew better.

Her phone began to vibrate nearby, but she simply reached over and turned it off. Everything else in the world could wait. Right now, he had her undivided attention, and it would stay that way for as long as necessary.

And she would make sure to kick his ass for getting himself into this in the first place, just as soon as he opened his eyes and she knew he was okay.

He had to be okay.

To Be Continued...

A/N: Bwhahaha. On a personal note, my dad found a kitten on our porch a couple of weeks ago. Sadly we believe she was abandoned, so we've decided to keep her. And since naming the pets always seems to fall to me, I have cleverly dubbed her Fiona. *cheesy grin* And she is totally living up to the name. She's fearless, wicked, and goes bonkers for no reason. LMAO. Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please let me know what ya'll think!