After his conversation with Fi, Michael sat in his hotel room thinking about the future. His, hers, theirs. That she had finally made it up to his old room after 4 years together was a surprise. He thought she would have done this much earlier. He smiled to think she found those old shirts. The idea of seeing Fi in his red ACDC shirt made him long for a flight home. It seemed appropriate that she would spend the night in his room. She needed him and he needed her. They never spoke about their pasts. That Maddie had offered up a part of his past was a way to keep Fi in the present, a way to keep them both in the present.

He had been ready for the final meeting with Max for several hours. He had been given options about where his career could go. No longer bound to Miami, the world was his oyster so to say. Yet, Michael knew that he was bound to Miami. He also knew that Max and the men behind the mirror knew this. That phone call would have cleared this up.

Michael received a call to meet the limo at the front of the hotel. As they drove through DuPont Circle, a realization came to Michael. He squirmed in his seat thinking of the possibilities and implications. It was an option he hadn't considered.

They arrived at the nondescript office building a few blocks from the capital. Michael got out and headed to the 15th floor. He stepped off the elevator and was greeted by Max.

"We have lots of planning to do, Michael." They stepped into his office. It was well appointed. Max had worked hard for this job. He had accomplished a huge number of missions as an operative and a handler. He had worked with Michael on many of them. Max knew Michael's history well. He knew that the burn notice was bullshit. He also knew that Michael wasn't the only one who's career had been ended this way. Max had positioned Michael's burn notice knowing full well that Michael wouldn't stop until he found the people who burned him and took them out. It was Max's most successful operation. It fell into place. Management was history and Michael was back in. Or was he?

What Max hadn't counted on was Michael falling in love with, well, Miami. Michael's file screamed that he would do anything to leave. Management had counted on this and so had he. Now, Michael's team was in the way of a beautiful career. Michael's new friends had become more to him than any job he had done. Spies don't develop relationships and Michael had gone way beyond that rule. Jesse Porter was still a company guy and could be brought in line. Sam Axe was a wash out, but he was ex military, so he understood. But, Michael's relationship with Fiona Glenanne put several current missions in jeopardy. And then there was his mother. Max's dilemma was to deal with the team or deal with Michael. How that looked was what the two men would hash out today.

"Michael, take a seat. We need to talk. We have several missions that need a Michael Westen touch. I want to review them with you." Max went over each of the three missions in detail as Michael reviewed the files. "Any ideas?"

Michael got up and went to the window. "You know, Max. Windows are not our friends. But, I like the idea of windows. It means transparency. So, why don't we try it. Transparency."

"Michael, I'm not sure what you mean."

"You haven't brought up my extracurricular Miami activities. I'm sure it been great nighttime reading, but you and I both know that I have strong connections that I am no longer willing or able to give up."

"Michael, you have a great career ahead of you. You need to decide where your loyalties lie. Right here, right now."

Michael smiled. "Now, now Max. An ultimatum, Really. Not your style, Max. It really doesn't become you with your designer suit."

"Michael, your team as you call them, has some issues. International issues. But, you know that, don't you?"

"Don't strong arm me, Max. There are deals to be made. Put an offer on the table. Put several offers on the table or I will walk away. I know I might not make it out of the building, but you don't own me. You don't get a say in the decisions I make."

Max sat at his desk. "I have one job that your skill set and your team's special abilities might fit and ironically, it is out of Miami. You know, your girlfriend and mom are providing you with the perfect cover."

"How so?" Michael turned to see the back of Max's head. How easy it would be to snap the son of a bitch's head off his shoulders. Michael knew that Max had a part in his burn notice. That Max had caved so easily told him volumes. He also knew that Max had done this on purpose.

"Your girlfriend and mom and your Sam are starting a little security business. Believe or not, word is out and business is lining up."

"Great. Just great," Michael thought to himself. He wasn't completely surprised, but that Max knew before he did, just plain annoyed him. It was his fault. He should have called Fi sooner.

"I want the file. I want a plane. I'll take the job with some conditions. First, Fiona's Interpol file….gone. You leave her alone. Second, my mom and Fiona get protection and my accounts if something happens to me. Third, leave Sam alone. Do not touch his pension. In fact, he needs a raise. Fourth, after this job, I'm done. I retire. I want my accounts unfrozen and I want a raise based on the last four years."

"Done. Your new handler will be in touch."

"Oh, I didn't mention that, I don't want a handler."

"Not an option, Michael. Take it or leave it. You'll like her. She trained you and I know you have a long history. She lives in Miami now. You just need to convince her that you need her help."

"Leave her out of this. She retired. She normal," Michael seethed.

"Again, not an option and this is the end of the conversation. Final decisions, Michael."