So now I'm officially confused! Michael with Sonya…WHAT ARE THEY THINKING! I hope for all of us this isn't permanent! I know I said I didn't fully hate Sonya, but this might change! Even though Fiona's been pissing me off this season, her and Michael still need to get back together! It's destiny, People!
For this next chapter, I was very inspired by the song "Kiss The Rain."; Whatever version you prefer! After 2x11 Hot Spot, I have always believed rain meant so much more for our favorite Couple; Of course, after 7x02 Forget Me Not, I officially believe it! This chapter takes place between "Surprises All Around." and "Climbing Many More Steps." (Chapters five-six.) This was very much an "M" chapter while I was writing it; I think I got it down to my true writing of sweet smut, or "Swut." if that's what you wanna call it! LOL! Add a little fluff into the mix and…Here you go! :)
Bonus Chapter 3- Rain Is A Good Thing
Her Grandma once said "Good things happen when it snows."; In their case, it's the rain. Every moment that's ever had meaning for them has involved storms. Growing up, he never liked the rain. As a Child, the thunder and lightning would provoke fear and terror; While as an Adult, it would only cause complications during a mission. Now, he loves nights like these; When the wind brushes against the walls of the loft, howling low and shaking the windows in their frames. He likes standing on the balcony, feeling the chilled air on his torso and the warmth of the apartment on his back, hearing the precipitation on the glass. Nights like these now bring him peace instead of panic, because every time he hears or sees or smells the rain, he thinks of her.
"I think they're getting worse." She sighs, the fabric of her nightgown concealing her curving lower abdomen. It isn't actual pajamas, but not her normal camisoles.
"What is?" He asks, not looking up from job-related paperwork he's reading. While his Wife doesn't go on cases anymore, she's still a valid member of the team; Working on the sidelines with Dani on anything data related:
AKA "Maternity Leave For Spies."
"The stretch marks." She turns with a mournful expression towards her husband, repeating her previous statement, "I think they're getting worse."
He glances over and softly smiles. "Don't let them bother you, Fi, I wouldn't even notice if you didn't tell me."
"I can't help it, they're just so...There." She starts tearing up. With eight weeks left, she ends most days exhausted and fatigued, not to mention cranky at times…Like now, "And I feel stupid for being upset!" She exclaims, "I'm a Glenanne, we don't cry; Yet here I am, teary eyed over fucking stretch marks!"
He sets aside the files, wrapping her in his arms. "It is kinda silly, but I know how stressed you are, worrying about Sam and Jesse and I; You don't have to apologize for being upset." She molds into his body, hearing his heart, hoping the strong thumping will return her self-assurance, "From what Nate's told me, pregnancy isn't all sunshine and rainbows, so I think you're allowed to cry now and then; I can deal with a little tears."
"You want me upset?" His Wife questions, puzzled.
He grins. "Well, if it means I can hold you close, then yes."
She laughs lightly through her crying. "You don't need an excuse to hold me close."
"True." He agrees, "However, if I gave into my impulses when I wanted, how would we get anything done?"
"I wouldn't mind if you gave into your impulses." She jokes, "After all, we have been "Reconnecting." rather nicely over the last month."
"Yes we have." He quips, "Still…All the time?"
"Maybe not all the time, but you could give in tonight; That's if you wanted to." She quips back with a tease, staring up at him in a less than innocent way, "Isn't there some way we can do this, Michael; Even with my bump in the way?"
He slides his hands down her back and pulls her into his lap. They have always shared a look that's left them breathless, and that's what she needs right now. "You on top?"
She shakes her head, eliminating the choice. Normally, that's her favorite position; Lately, though, it's been uncomfortable. "Laura says I shouldn't lie on my back for long periods of time either."
"On our sides then." He whispers with undisguised love, slipping his palms under her gown. She slightly gasps while the cold skin massages hers, then more violently when his thumbs graze her sensitive chest, "Come here, I don't want you catching a chill."
"Sure you don't." She replies, pressing closer towards her Husband while one passionate kiss follows another, starting at the lips and gradually going lower. Before they can get too involved, a familiar, yet welcomed, nudging occurs against their stomachs, "Oh, she's kicking; Damn soccer player she is."
"Or cheerleader." Her Husband disputes, settling her back on the pillows. It's the ultimate question, ever since they were told they were having a Daughter; What will she be like? The overall consensus started as a joke, but has turned into their wish and desire for their little Girl; They want her to have the life they didn't, even if she becomes the exact opposite of her Parents. He lies next to her on the bed and places a hand on her lower abdomen, feeling the heat of her body through her nightgown. He smiles at the unmistakable fluttering under his palm, his Wife's hand over his, seeing the open happiness on his face, "I'm still shocked we did this." He murmurs, looking at her stomach, "It's amazing." He gazes up at her, "You're amazing."
"Technically it's the sex that's amazing." She shrugs, tangling legs with his, hissing at his cold feet. He apologizes and tries moving away, until she grabs his legs with her own, silently demanding her Husband stay where he is. He pushes a palm under her gown, his hand caressing her bare hip. She's never worn underwear to sleep unless necessary, and now, he's particularly thankful for this fact; His Wife's lower abdomen close to his, "I think our Daughter takes after you."
He sits up a bit, raising an eyebrow at her. "Really?"
She nods adamantly. "For starters, she keeps me up late and wakes me up early; And my singing annoys her."
"At least we know she isn't deaf." He responds.
"Or maybe she loves my singing and is actually dancing." She expresses, her eyes showing fake sincerity, "I think when Elizabeth's old enough, I will teach her how to sing and then we can serenade you with duets."
"Won't be necessary." He retorts, trying, and failing, to keep from smiling; The image of his two Girls singing and dancing around the loft.
"Yes it is." She jokes, "I'll get some instruments for the apartment, maybe a couple of interesting costumes…"
Her Husband steps in before she can continue. "Fiona?"
"…Yeah?" She questions.
"Shut up." He answers with a smile.
Her lips form an unmistakable scowl and she rolls her Green eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck; For as sarcastic as he can be, she really does find it lovable…Sometimes. "Michael, do you think..." She sighs hesitantly, "Do you think you could put my cream on for me?"
He pulls back to see his Wife, brushing his thumb against her lip in an attempt to wipe away any embarrassment she may have. "You never need to ask." He whispers, stretching over her body and grabbing the specific lotion from the nightstand; The thick substance smelling like Lavender and Vanilla.
She rolls onto her back, planting her feet on the cot; Spreading her legs so her Husband can kneel between. He gently pushes her nightgown up, sliding his palms over the fabric until it's bunched up. Popping open the tall bottle and squeezing out a sizeable amount, he leans forward and begins rubbing the scented cream in slow circles, massaging the taut skin underneath his hands. This has become a regular activity for them since their Doctor's appointment two weeks ago, since Laura suggested the lotion; Claiming it helps reduce stretch marks and it's associated discomfort.
"How is it down there?" She grimaces, "Do I resemble one of your Government maps?"
Something in her voice makes him reduce his caressing and he glances down at his Wife. "Careful, Fi, that's the Mother of my little Girl you're putting down."
"Well, the Mother of your little Girl feels like a striped zebra right now." She explains with a frustrated laugh, "Honestly, Michael, I don't understand how you even wanna touch me sometimes." The last word ends in a murmur while tears begin to fall.
The massage comes to an abrupt stop, her Husband's cream-covered hand resting under her belly button. "Look at me." She sighs, yet agrees, shame and guilt reflecting in her eyes, "You're just as gorgeous as the day we met, maybe more." He continues, caressing the lines on her stomach with worship, "I know you're uncomfortable & miserable & I would take it all away if I could; But what your body is doing for us, for our Daughter?"
His Wife lets his words sink in, watching him massage the lotion into her skin, covering every inch of her rounded lower abdomen until it shines in the dimly lit apartment. Lightning flashes with every breath she takes, lust flowing through her Husband so suddenly, he's almost light-headed. While his calloused palms touch her, she starts to relax, her body melting into the bed. "Michael…" She whispers, her eyes soft, yet filled with longing and affection, "…Make love to me."
He returns to her side, pressing against her curving frame. Taking her face in his hands, he claims her full lips with his own, the muscles shifting when he moves onto her clavicle and chest. He continues down towards the bump in her stomach, consumed by feelings of possessiveness and love and…Her. Breaking the kiss abruptly, he rests on his knees, pulling his Wife's gown over her head. She sits up to help, reaching for her Husband's pajamas pants as soon as she's free. Together, they have managed to shed all the fabric separating them until nothing remains but warm skin and gentle touches.
Sometime later, they have both cooled down enough to require the duvet; Dropping one last kiss on her lower abdomen before spooning behind her, ignoring the slowly drying sheets beneath them. "I hope Ellie has your ears."
"I hope she has yours." She yawns with a smile.
"No you don't." He quips into her neck.
"Yes, I do." She quips back, "She will have the best hearing in all of Miami."
"I hope she has your kindness." He expresses.
"Your courage." She counters.
"Your…Zest of life." He murmurs, his code word for her love of anything going "Boom.".
This revelation makes her turns in his arms. "Really, you hope our little Girl learns about fireballs and pipe bombs and C4 before she can do algebra?"
"I love you, Fiona..." He sighs, running his fingers through her damp hair, pushing it away from her face, "...All the parts of you. Your…Zest of life…Has done so much good & I would be thrilled if our Daughter is like her Mommy." She looks at him, her tired, happy expression matching his, "Although…" He adds on, "…It may prove a bit tricky having a Child who can level the loft if she doesn't like her dinner."
"Well, as long as you don't cook, we should be okay." She chuckles, "I mean, Michael, you can make some of the World's greatest delicacies; But eggs…Pancakes…Not so much."
He tickles his Wife's side in retaliation. "Crazy Girl." He whispers afterwards, pulling her close so their stomachs touch once more, his body a solid shield during the night.
Meanwhile, outside, the rain continues to fall.
I know Fi isn't technically a Spy, but the AKA fit perfectly for it! Special prize for whoever can figure out where Grandma Glenanne's quote comes from; A tiny sneak peek for the final bonus chapter, a glimpse into the future! Show the love, Guys! :)