AN: So this is the last vignette related to Shattered and it's important to note that all of the scenes have taken place before Shattered starts, leading up to this last vignette, which happens about a week before Liz is called in front of the Council. There will be more vignettes, but the focus will switch to the next story in the series. And thanks to everyone for the comments! I live for feedback.

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Keeping his gaze leveled with crackling coffee-colored irises, Michael strode over to Liz's lookout, coming to a standstill at her side, flicking predatory amber eyes over her stiff posture and smirked when she stepped back warily, her tongue flitting over lips once more. Stepping into her body, brow cocked in challenge, he bit back a grin as her breath quickened and he studied her silently, tempted to toss her over his shoulder and drag her back to his suite to finish what they'd started the other night.

Meeting her eyes once more, their gazes held for several tense moments as both recalled those stolen kisses that had left them both wanting before he flung his tunic over his shoulder and sauntered away. After two days of frustrated attempts to talk to her on his part, she could chase him instead.

"What was that all about?" She huffed, stalking after him and grabbing his arm, dragging him to the side, out of his men's sight. Pushing a stray molasses strand behind her ear impatiently, she tipped her chin defiantly and stood in his path, hands on her hips.

"Oh, now you want to talk to me?" he asked with feigned surprise, cocking an impatient brow and crossed his arms over his chest as he fixed her with a harassed expression, rocking back on heels. He had been spoiling for a fight for the past two days and looked as if she was finally going to give it to him. "After freezing me out for two days? To what do I owe this happenstance?"

"Don't change the subject, Michael," she warned softly, cocking her head to the side, imitating his stance and huffed when he snorted, dipping his head mockingly for her to continue. Cheeks flushing with temper, she pointed toward the two guards still trying to regain their breath. "What the hell was all that?"

"We were sparring. We do it same time every day," he shrugged dismissively, shaking his head slightly as he walked around her and headed back to the citadel, biting back a smirk as she followed. "You should know that by now."

"That was not sparring, Michael," she hissed, scurrying to keep up with his long strides as they entered some trees surrounding the encampment. Speeding up, she stepped into his path again, placing a hand on his chest to halt his advance, shivering slightly as the slick, hot skin slid under hers. Swallowing thickly, her breath caught as the muscles tensed under her hand and he pinned her with a blatantly hungry look as their bodies pressed together. Struggling to breathe, her eyes darted away nervously as she continued weakly. "That was you beating the hell out of them? What is your problem?"

"Nothing. They're soldiers," he grated, clenching his hands to keep from grabbing her and brushed past her once more. No way was he going to take her against her will and she'd made it pretty obvious by her avoidance of him that it would be. "They need to be in tip top shape because the enemy is not going to pat them on the back and say better luck next time. They'll be twice as vicious, twice as bloody and will show no mercy. At least, right now, they're still breathing."

"Barely," she spat, her irritation growing as he continued to ignore her. He'd been touchy ever since they'd been interrupted the other night and she knew she hadn't helped by avoiding him, but damn it, she needed to think things through and she couldn't do that with him hovering over her. It was impossible to have a coherent thought when he was around. Unable to keep up with his swift pace, she came to a stand still and taunted. "I know what this is about."

"You do?" he halted his forward movement, freezing in his paces for a few seconds before spinning on his heel slightly to look over his shoulder, fixing her with an unreadable face. "Well then why don't you inform me Miss Know It All, what is this about?"

"This is about the other night," she stated boldly, breath shallow and heart pounding as she saw something dangerous flicker in cool, whiskey eyes but held her ground and walked until she stood toe-to-toe with him.

"Whatever," he bit out dismissively, shaking his head and turned away once more, suddenly tired of fighting with her. Staring off into space, he ran a weary hand over his face and made to walk once more when her voice stopped him.

"No whatever about it," she rasped softly and licked her lips nervously, watching his back steadily. Dipping her head to stare at her hands, she blushed and shifted uncomfortably when he turned around, silently studying her face with thinly veiled heat. "Don't think I don't know that they were our replacements when we…when things…the other night. I saw them."

"Well that's a shock," he muttered bitterly, looking to the side, trying to focus on anything other than the soft, tantalizing scent of vanilla teasing his nose and making his mouth water for another taste of honeyed lips. Throat convulsing, he drew a breath and turned back, his mask back in place. "I'm amazed you noticed anything as you hightailed it back to the compound as if the devil himself was after you."

"It's not their fault, Michael," Liz pointed out, meeting his cool gaze and worrying her bottom lip, running an equally weary hand through disheveled ebony tresses. She was so tired of fighting what he made her feel. There was nothing wrong with wanting him, they were betraying no one. Placing a hand on his chest, she stroked the skin softly, breath hitching as the desire simmering in the background erupted, sending a trill of need spiraling through her body. "You can't punish them because they interrupted and you're frustrated."

"Well I didn't see you offering to do anything about it," he rasped darkly, his breath quickening as her hand ran over his chest lightly and he stepped into her unconsciously, trapping her hand against his hammering heart. Hope thrummed through his body as she stepped closer to him, sliding her other hand along waist to splay on his lower back.

"Maybe all you have to do is ask," she whispered hoarsely, her lips parting, heart beating in sync with his as brandy eyes darkened and danced over her face questioningly.

"Not really the asking sort, Parker," he grunted. Sliding the hand covering his heart to his shoulder, he snaked his arm around her waist and yanked her against him, whispering as he captured her lips roughly and pressed her against the tree behind her. "I just take what I want."