Here is the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate the feedback. And as always thank you so much to everyone who read.
I just want to mention that I complete my stories before I post them. So although I still have to split up the chapters and put on the finishing touches, you don't have to worry about being left hanging! Enjoy!
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The next morning Michael and Fiona were startled awake by their nephew, who was bouncing on the mattress cheerily, asking if he could watch cartoons. Michael grabbed Charlie and led him into the kitchen before he could wake Fiona, who had mumbled something about C4 and burrowed deeper under the covers.
The day before, Michael had noticed an old tv set with a VCR attached located on the kitchen table. He found a few VHS tapes in a cupboard and was overjoyed to see that a couple of them were children's movies. Charlie decided he wanted to watch Peter Pan, so Michael blew the dust off of the tape and pushed it into the slot. The picture was fuzzy, but Charlie didn't seem to mind. Michael sat on the chair next to Charlie's and watched for a few minutes, until he felt his stomach begin to churn, protesting at being left empty. Neither he nor Fiona had eaten anything since the previous morning, having had more pressing matters. Now however, his hunger was catching up with him, and he decided to go discuss their breakfast options with Fiona.
Michael's girlfriend was still asleep when he entered the living room, and so he sat by her side, stroking her hair until she began to stir. He couldn't help it, he had missed her so much. He wanted nothing more than to sit and stare at her for as long as she would allow, but he knew that all three of them could use a hearty breakfast.
"G'morning, Michael." Fiona said with a stretch and a yawn. "Where's Charlie?" She asked, noticing that the couch was unoccupied.
"He's watching a movie in the kitchen," Michael assured her. "I was thinking that we should get some breakfast." Michael continued. "Charlie hasn't had any real food since we went on the run, and I'm starving."
"Do you think it's safe for us to go anywhere? Our faces were plastered all over the news yesterday."
"I don't know," Michael replied, "but we can't live on Goldfish and bananas for much longer."
Fiona thought for a moment. "I think we passed a Dunkin' Donuts on the way here. If it has a drive thru then that's probably our best bet. We can wear hats and sunglasses to be safe."
"Works for me," agreed Michael, but I'll go and you stay here with Charlie.
Fiona opened her mouth to protest but Michael spoke first. "I'm sure it will be fine, but I need to know that you and Charlie are safe. Besides, we're more likely to be recognized if we're together."
Fiona had to admit that he had a point, so instead of arguing she helped Michael put on his simple disguise, kissed him goodbye, and went into the kitchen to check on Charlie.
Michael returned within the hour, with a couple of donuts and muffins as well as some coffee and juice. The three dug in and quickly finished their meal. Charlie soon left the table to go play with the few toys he had left.
Michael motioned for Fiona to follow him to the couch and the two sat side by side.
"So where do you think we should go Fi? Wherever it is, we have to leave soon. We can go anywhere you like."
Fiona pursed her lips in thought. "Hmmm...well I'd like to go somewhere in Europe. Maybe Greece or Italy."
Michael considered her suggestions for a moment. "I don't think either of those places is exactly right for us."
"Well where is exactly right for us, besides...well, we can't go there." Fiona looked lost in memories.
"Why not?" Michael asked, immediately knowing what she was thinking. "Why can't we move to Ireland? It's where we met, fell in love. I'd love for Charlie to grow up in a place that means so much to us."
Fiona looked shocked. "Michael, you've been outed as an American spy and everyone knows we were together. Setting foot in Dublin would be suicide for either of us. We can't bring Charlie into that!"
"I didn't say we should live in Dublin. We could find a quiet village, where no one's ever heard the name Westen or Glenanne. We can keep to ourselves and build our covers, so by the time Charlie enters school no one will have any suspicions about who we are or where we came from."
Fiona's face began to brighten. She hardly dared to believe what she was hearing. "Do you really think it could work? Just us, living in Ireland. It sounds too good to be true. What would we do for work? Could you really give up being a spy?"
"I think we've both lived through enough turmoil that settling down will be a relief. Besides, I'm sure there are people in Ireland who will require our services, if we want to take some jobs."
"Wow," breathed Fiona. "Is this really happening?"
"I think so." Michael confirmed. "Why don't you write a letter to your mother, let her know that we're alive and coming to Ireland. We won't be able to visit, but I don't want her think you're dead."
"I will. You know, when I was planning on going back home a few years ago Sam gave me he number of a buddy of his who could sneak me aboard his private plane and get me out of the country. I still have his number. It'll be expensive, but that's probably our best bet."
"Does he know who we are? We can't risk anyone identifying us."
"No," Fi assured. "and he's up in Boston so I doubt he'd have seen our faces on the news."
Michael nodded.
"Are we really doing this?" Fiona straight into Michael's eyes, placing a hand over his heart.
"Yeah Fi, we are."
"Let's leave today. I can find a car for us to borrow, and we can be in Boston by tomorrow afternoon."
"I'll get Charlie ready," offered Michael. "See you in twenty?"
Michael nodded and Fiona left, excited to start their journey home.
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Eight hours, two 'borrowed' cars, and one gas station later, Fiona was driving down the highway with only two sleeping Westens to keep her company. The newly formed family of three had piled into the car to begin their long journey after stopping by three different storage units in which Michael and Fiona had been keeping most of the cash they had saved up over the past seven years. It was by no means a fortune, but it would be enough to bribe Sam's pilot buddy and rent a place in Ireland for a few months.
Fiona took advantage of the silent car to remember the whirlwind that she had been caught up in for the past several years. When she had first arrived in Miami, she had convinced herself it was to get some closure over the man who had left her heartbroken years before. It hadn't taken more than watching him sleep for a few hours for her to decide that she wanted to stay by his side for the foreseeable future.
It hadn't been hard for them to fall back into their old rhythm. They fought bad guys and each other, slept together and spent most of their time together, for better or worse. He left her time and time again, but every time she swore to extricate herself from his pull, something happened to bring them closer than ever before.
She had stood by his side, fought for him, gone to jail for him, even been prepared to die with him. Then, when she had finally thought that they would be together without the CIA looming in the background, he had left her for what she swore would be the last time.
The thought of that particular betrayal still made her blood run cold. She had told herself that she was done. Michael was gone, and she would no longer let the idea of him prevent her from finding her own happiness. Though her grief and pain had been stifling, she had managed to find a man who wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with him. She found a man who wanted nothing more than to fight alongside her during the day and take her out to dinner at night. Carlos may not have been a super-spy, but he loved Fiona and showed it.
And Fiona was more frustrated than she had ever been because she had a man who was everything she had always wanted, but he wasn't the right man. When Carlos held her hand she didn't feel a warm tingle in her fingers. When he kissed her she didn't forget all her problems. And when he lay beside her in bed, she did not feel as though the bond connecting them was stronger than any force of nature.
Even nine months after Michael had walked all too willingly into the CIA's clutches it was his body she reached for after a bad dream and his name that echoed in her head when all other sounds had ceased.
Carlos had tried to understand. She had let him move in with her only three months after meeting him. His landlord was selling the building and she had thought that her new boyfriend could chase the spirit of her former lover from her house and mind.
She had lived and worked well with Carlos and for a moment she thought that maybe she could love him. Not the all encompassing, passionate love that she felt towards Michael. She couldn't fool herself into thinking that she would ever have the urge to walk hand-in-hand to face death with Carlos. But she was comfortable with him and as happy as she needed to be. That is, until Michael had reclaimed his rightful place in her heart with the words, It's time to be brave little angel, and a hailstorm of bullets. She had kissed both Carlos and Michael that day, but only one man's stare had set her soul ablaze with emotions; and she had walked calmly away from him. She didn't regret not running into his arms that day. The pull was strong, but he had nearly destroyed her with his empty promises and she refused to give him an ounce more of her soul than he had already commandeered.
As the weeks passed, she managed to keep a safe distance. But soon she was faced with no choice but to work with her ex-boyfriend, and in no time at all she was lying to Carlos and sneaking around with Michael as if she were having an affair. And she had to admit that she was. Not a physical affair, but an emotional one. So when Carlos had finally accepted defeat she wasn't surprised. She had asked him to stay and even tossed in an I love you, but it wasn't enough. Carlos, like Campbell before him, had learned the hard way that Fiona Glenanne already had a boyfriend, and his name was Michael Westen. And so Carlos had left Fiona to follow her heart into the mouth of hell and Fiona had cried over her inability to choose anyone over the man who could destroy her.
And he almost did destroy me, literally, Fiona reminded herself. If he had decided that he'd rather have free reign to do anything he wanted with the support of a powerful organization and a beautiful woman, than save the life of someone who had all but turned her back on him, then I wouldn't be alive right now.
Michael suddenly let out a grunt and awoke, leading Fiona to wonder if he had sensed her strong emotions. He stretched and turned towards her. "Why don't you let me drive for a while; you look tired."
Fiona nodded gratefully and pulled over at the next rest stop.
Fiona thought that she would fall asleep as soon as Michael began driving, but fifteen minutes later she was still lying awake on her side, unable to take her eyes off of the man beside her. Noticing her stare, he moved his right hand from the steering wheel and placed it on her thigh. Warmth spread up Fiona's body straight to her heart, which she felt would burst open if she didn't say-
"I love you."
Michael simply smiled and gave her leg a gentle squeeze.
She had never heard him say those three words to anyone but his mother, and even that had been a rare occurrence. He hadn't confessed his love as Michael McBride, which she had attributed to the fact that they were in a war zone and love was a weakness that could be exploited all too easily.
When she arrived in Miami, they had fallen into the same habits, and neither had said the words explicitly until Fiona was faced with possible life in prison.
The only time Fiona could even remember Michael saying the word love to her was when he was explaining why things didn't work between him and his former fiancé. Fiona couldn't help but wonder if he had ever said the words to the attractive brunette.
Feeling a familiar twinge of jealousy, Fiona couldn't help but call him out on his commitment issues.
"I know you refuse to say it to me, but promise me you'll say it to Charlie." Michael didn't bother to feign ignorance.
"Of course I'll say it to him," he insisted. "He's my nephew."
"Oh, I didn't realize that only blood relatives were allowed that honor."
Fiona was nearly as taken aback as Michael at her sudden burst of snark. She decided to blame it on her lack of sleep. She cursed herself however when she saw his already guilty face intensify.
"Fi, you should know I - it's not that I don't -" but Fiona cut him off.
"I don't want you to feel like you have to say it. I know how you feel. Please, just - I don't want to talk about this anymore," she finished with a sigh.
Michael remained quiet for a moment, focusing on the road. Then, just as she was closing her eyes, she heard him speak. "Fi, I..." He trailed off but she knew what he meant.
"I know, Michael," she whispered. She wrapped his hand in her own and was finally able to drift off to sleep.
Approximately fifteen hours later the small group arrived in Boston. Fiona had gotten in touch with Sam's buddy first thing in the morning. The pilot had been reluctant to take three strangers across the Atlantic, and Fiona couldn't tell him she knew Sam for fear of their true identities being discovered, but a few thousand dollars later they had reached a deal. The pilot, Clay, would be flying to Europe to sell some 'products' in two days. He agreed to drop them off in Ireland on the way, no questions asked by either party. Michael and Fiona agreed that this was their best chance, and so they decided to lay low in a motel in Cambridge for the next couple of days.
Back when it was just the two of them, laying low had meant staying in whatever modest room they had rented, planning their next move, and generally being as forgettable as possible. Laying low with a three-year-old however, proved to be a nearly impossible task. They had to make sure that there was food around every three hours, and entertaining Charlie cut into whatever planning time they had hoped to have. He had far too much energy to be cooped up in a small room all day, but whenever they went for a walk around the motel strangers would make comments about how sweet the little boy was and what a nice family they were. None of the people were ostensibly threatening, but after being a spy for so long, Michael couldn't help but worry about their ulterior motives.
The first night that the three spent in the motel, Michael awoke to Charlie's soft voice saying, "Uncle Michael, I peed."
"In the toilet?" asked Michael, hoping that was what the boy meant but sensing it was not. Charlie shook his head and pointed to the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor that was serving as his bed.
Michael sighed and nudged Fiona awake. "Umm Fi? Where should I put stuff with pee on it?" Fiona looked at him incredulously then, spotting Charlie's wet pajamas, hung her head and sighed.
"I forgot that Charlie still wears pull-ups at night. Just throw the wet things in the corner and I'll see if there are any pull-ups in the bag."
With a huge sigh of relief, Fiona pulled the nighttime underwear from the bag, along with another pair of Charlie's pajamas. She helped Michael dress the boy, and they got back into bed, with Charlie snuggled between them.
On the following day, Charlie was even more rambunctious than the day before. He had clearly had enough of being cooped up with his aunt and uncle, who were at a loss of how to keep him busy. Finally Fiona made a suggestion to Michael.
"Why don't we take him to the park? I saw one on our way here."
"It's too dangerous Fi. We might be recognized."
"Do you really want to spend the next - "she looked at her watch - "ten hours trying to convince him that coloring is more fun than jumping on the bed?"
Michael looked unconvinced until one of Charlie's sneakers whizzed by, narrowly missing his nose. "Good idea, let's go."
When they first arrived at the park, Michael was finding it nearly impossible to relax. Every cell phone he saw looked like a gun, and every stroller seemed to be a good place to hide a bomb. Soon however, he found himself so busy cheering for Charlie as he went down the slide and lifting him up so he could reach the monkey bars, that he didn't have time to analyze every stranger who walked by.
After Charlie had announced he was hungry and ready to leave the park, Michael and Fiona walked with him to a nearby cafe, where they ordered sandwiches and potato chips to go.
Walking back to their motel room, Michael noticed that Fiona had suddenly become quiet. "What are you thinking about Fi?" he asked, concern in his eyes.
"I'm just wondering what Sam and Jesse are doing right now. I hope Strong isn't being too hard on them. I'd hate to think that we left them to be blamed for our mistakes."
"You mean my mistakes." Michael sighed then continued. "I don't think Strong will give them much trouble. With that hard drive they have a lot of leverage. They essentially saved his career so he owes them. Not to mention how much the CIA owes them for helping take down a terrorist ring. I bet Sam's sitting by the pool drinking a mojito right now."
Fiona smiled wistfully. "I hope you're right."
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One extra perk that came with taking Charlie to the park was that he fell asleep earlier than he had the day before. Deciding to take full advantage of this, Michael and Fiona sat quietly on the couch together, commenting on what they might do when they arrived in Ireland and exchanging an occasional sweet kiss.
Finally, Fiona decided to bring up a subject that had been bothering her a bit over the past couple of days.
"Michael,"she began, turning to sit cross-legged and face him, "I like my name."
Michael looked understandably confused, but tried to form an appropriate response. "Um, I like your name too Fi."
"And I like calling you Michael."
Michael almost chuckled. "You can call me Michael, Fi."
"Can I? She raised her eyebrows. "It's not the name on your passport or driver's license or birth certificate."
Michael finally understood what she was saying.
"I know we have to change our identities, and it's far too dangerous to use our real last names, but could we keep our first names?" She looked at him hopefully. "Michael and Fiona aren't unusual names in Ireland."
Michael bit his lower lip and took a moment to think things over. The safest thing for them to do would be to change their identities completely. But Fiona was right, there were plenty of Michaels and Fionas in Ireland. And if he was honest with himself, he couldn't imagine letting any name but Fiona escape from his lips in a moment of passion, be it ecstasy or anger.
"Okay, Fi. When we have our new IDs made in Ireland we'll be Michael and Fiona and Charlie. But we do have to use different surnames."
"Too bad Finley is already taken." Fiona smiled.
Suddenly Michael's eyes lit up. "What about Finn? It's Irish, easy to remember, and Sam would be flattered."
Fiona took a moment to consider. "I like it," she confirmed. Then she smiled coyly. "Does this mean our covers are married, Michael?"
She had expected him to splutter out some weak retort, and so could hardly believe his next words.
"It's not a cover Fi. It's our life. I mean, if you wanT to make it official..." He trailed off leaving Fiona room to voice her opinion on the subject.
"We've always been family, Michael. I don't need a piece of paper to prove it."
"I know, Fi. But, maybe we could have a small ceremony once we're settled in Ireland. Just you, me, a priest, Charlie, and Sam and Jesse if they can make it. I want Charlie to have the kind of family Nate and I didn't."
Fiona nodded in understanding, deciding to voice the thought that Michael hadn't. "I wish your mom could be there. She always supported us. She'd be so pleased to see us finally settling down."
Michael's eyes filled with tears, but he smiled and nodded. Fiona held him close and soon her tears mixed with his. The two fell asleep that way, remembering the woman to whom they owed their lives.
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