A/N: Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter of this story. It was really nice to read the mixed opinions on Michael and Fiona's reactions to his homecoming and impending fatherhood. Dr Sam is now making house calls, though the former naval commander has worries of his own on the domestic front.

A special thanks to Jedi Skysinger for her input in this chapter as well as for her BETA skills.

On a different note, the long awaited chapter of Reconnecting by Jedi's Pal has been posted and can be found on the M page.

And even though I am unable to take part, Burn Notice Club will be watching S1E9 (Hard Bargain) and live tweeting at 9pm EST. For those of you that can make it, let's keep Burn Notice trending every Thursday.

AIDEN.

Chapter Twenty Nine,

The Domestication of Michael Westen. Part two.

Before I knew your real name, I loved you, before I should have, I trusted you because I have always known in your heart. You do what's right no matter the cost to you and I've learned that, when you love a spy, you have to be willing to make that sacrifice, too.

The words ran through Michael's head as if in a loop as he drove at insane speeds away from his mother's house. He had a clear memory of standing out in the middle of the street in front of the federal building, watching her hand herself over to the FBI, sacrificing herself for the sake of his broken morality, forcing him to remember who he was and the pledge he had made to his country.

At times your job has made it hard to be with you, but it has never shaken my faith in you. I can't let you ruin any more lives because of mine. I have to force you to tell what you know. If you don't, you won't be the man I love. Do the right thing. I love you, Michael, forever.

He had broken protocol by keeping the tattered letter, not that he needed to see it because the words were burned into his soul. But he had kept it any way, hidden away along with a few other keepsakes in a secret slick that nobody else knew about.

()()()()

"Hello..." Jason Bly rolled over onto his side and glanced at his alarm clock. Seeing the digits 04:15 illuminated on the screen caused him to sit up, expecting the worse.

"Sir, you asked to be kept updated on any unusual activity - Michael Westen left his mother's residence at high speed and is now at his loft."

Bly stifled a yawn. "Has he broken the terms of his parole?"

"No sir, well, a few traffic offenses -"

"Did he try to lose you?"

"I don't think he noticed we were there or if he did he didn't care."

"And how many times has that dump been searched?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Five times, Hadley, that's five times that I know about. There is nothing left there but a bed and some crappy furniture. Just sit on the place. I'll talk to him tomorrow about making late night trips and driving more carefully." The CSS agent got back into bed. This was the trouble with handling such a notorious asset. All his men were on high alert, every man in the surveillance teams was waiting for Michael Westen to do something spectacular.

"Shouldn't we at least go in, see what he is up to, sir?"

Hadley was just itching to find the burned spy up to no good. The guy was a top flight agent, but he was also a glory hog.

"What did I just say, Hadley? The CIA, Homeland Security and the FBI have been through that whole building, the FBI went through it twice... Let the man get some sleep." He didn't believe for one minute Westen hadn't spotted the tail following him, especially when the streets would be nearly empty at that time of the morning and the fact he had made no effort to lose them told him that Michael Westen had probably just discovered he was about to be a father and was looking for a quiet place to come to terms with the news.

()()()()

Inside the loft, Michael took a moment to look around his home. The house plants had all died, the little baskets of potpourri had lost their scent and dust had settled over everything. As he walked around opening a drawer, or running his hand under a counter top, he noted all the weapons had been found and removed. Going over to the filing cabinet he kept in one corner, he opened the drawers to find all his files had been taken away, no doubt being pored over by one of the many agencies after his hide.

His eyes skimmed over the bed, but he refused to let himself dwell on their last night in the loft before heading to Panama. Instead he forced his mind on to other things, such as sweeping the room for bugs. After a thorough search, all he found were a couple of listening devices, one in the kitchen area and another in a bedside lamp. Neither were wired into the main power or looked new.

Once he was satisfied that nobody was listening in and there were no cameras watching, he made his way into the bathroom and lay flat on the floor as close to the claw-footed bathtub as he could get and reached out underneath until he managed with a great deal of difficulty to hook his index finger into the narrow gap around the waste pipe. After a little bit of maneuvering, his fingertips brushed over plastic and, a few seconds later, found the length of cord he had attached to his prize.

It took him a while to retrieve the package from its hiding place and, once he had it in his hands, he sat up resting his back against the heavy, immovable, enamel bath. Carefully unwrapping his prize from layers of plastic, he took out two sheets of neatly folded, creased paper and a small, square hard cardboard envelope.

Placing these items in his pocket, he took some extra time to study the remaining items in his stash. Four photographs, one of himself with Nate dressed as the car thief Johnny, with Nate as his minion. It was the last picture their mother had taken of her sons together. It was also the day he discovered he was going to be an uncle. Nate had been happy that day, happy at being part of his big brother's team.

Wiping a hand over his eyes, Michael turned to the next picture, this one of himself as McBride with his arm draped around Fiona's shoulders. They were both beaming and laughing, sitting at a booze laden table in St. Augustine Parish hall during the celebration after the christening of Sean and Rosanna's son, Peter. One finger traced the line of Fiona's wide smile. He found it hard to look away from her joyous features. When had he last seen her that happy and carefree?

Putting the photo to the back, he turned his attention to the next one. His friends, his team sat at a table in Carlitos. There was a birthday cake on the table in front of Jesse. Fiona had bought it after she discovered the newest member of their ragtag group had no family and had been raised in a series of foster homes.

"I guess with you off fighting for your government and Sam busy with Elsa, me and Jesse just got closer. He told me about growing up alone and the loss of his mom and I told him a little bit about my family."

Michael bit down on his bottom lip, remembering the sharp stab of jealously which had shot through him at the thought of his Fiona spending long hours with the younger, less jaded man, discovering that she had shared what he considered a personal, secret time which belonged to just them. He had kept quite a few details out of his reports to his MI-6 handler and he told Sam, his closest friend, next to nothing about Fiona Glenanne, letting the SEAL commander get all his information from her Interpol files.

With one last look at the picture, it too went to the back as he rotated the photographs. Why was he feeling like this? He knew she had chosen him, that she loved him. So she shared a few things with Jesse, what had happened was years ago, another time. So why couldn't he shake off the pangs of jealousy?

The last of the quartet of pictures was of him and Fiona. This one had been taken only six months ago, after she had been released from prison, but before they had discovered Tom Card was the man they were after. He'd been having a problem dealing with her getting into dangerous situations and she had shown him how badly he needed her. They had spent three days in bed most of the time, only taking short periods away from the loft to get some fresh air. It had been during one of those breaks for some fresh air and nourishment that they had asked the waitress in the beach front cafe to take their picture.

Sighing, Michael kept hold of the photographs and got to his feet. These were the things that had helped in a small way to keep him grounded over the last few months. Even though he hadn't had them in his hands, just the thought of them had been enough to stop him going completely into the darkness.

Once on his feet, he placed the photographs with the letters and the small box in his pocket and headed purposefully back to the door. Picking up the folder containing all the details of the Palm Island house in one hand, he placed his free hand on the door handle and then paused. Outside Bly's surveillance team were waiting for him. Where he was going next, he wanted a bit of privacy. The last thing he wanted was be picked up for breaking the agreement he had made with Jason Bly to stay in plain sight and be a law abiding citizen.

Making sure the door was securely bolted, he made his way up the metal staircase leading to the raised platform which had served as his office. Then reaching up, he climbed up and out through the skylight and onto the roof. Keeping low, he went to where he had left a rope ladder rolled up for such emergencies and, once he had tossed it over the side, he climbed down and went looking for a new vehicle.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Finding a ride had just been a case of crossing over the wasteland between the building he called home, past a couple of warehouses, which in the early hours of the morning were still all locked up, and out on the street. He eventually came across an older model sedan with little in the way of anti-theft devices and was soon making the short drive towards the MacArthur Causeway.

It was just before he reached the A1A that he turned off and drove into the small parking lot in front of the Bayside Diner. Abandoning the vehicle in a dark corner away from the lights and CCTV cameras in front of the low squat building, Michael snatched up the folder containing the details of the Palm Island house and crossed over the nearly deserted road and then easily scaled the fence in to the Miami Outboard Club. Ten minutes later, he was on his way to Palm Island to test the security levels of his girlfriend's chosen home in a Zodiac Cadet 310.

Before I knew your real name, I loved you. Before I should have, I trusted you. Because I have always known in your heart, you do what's right no matter the cost to you and I've learned that, when you love a spy, you have to be willing to make that sacrifice too.

Her stay in Allarod Prison had nearly killed her. He knew all about her deep abiding fear of being arrested and locked away. Her father had died while in custody. Her brothers, all of them at one time or another, had been arrested and they had always returned home beaten and abused. Her brief but brutal stay in lockup in Derry before the family lawyer had shown up to free her had been imprinted on her mind forever. He remembered holding her tightly when the nightmares came late at night, usually around the time of some old anniversary. Yet she had put herself in her equivalent of hell for him.

At times your job has made it hard to be with you, but it has never shaken my faith in you. I can't let you ruin any more lives because of mine. I have to force you to tell what you know. If you don't, you won't be the man I love. Do the right thing, I love you, Michael, forever.

And what had he done for her in return? But it wasn't just her…Nate… He swallowed thickly and tried to push the thoughts away without success… He should have looked after his brother, kept him safe...

He was disgusted how easy it was to tie up at the jetty belonging to an empty house and then cut through the property, evading a couple of badly placed security cameras and a ludicrously inadequate motion sensor.

He shouldn't have put his trust in the CIA. He should have insisted on Sam Axe taking on the mission. If Sam had been there, there would have been no need for his little brother to have been anywhere near Atlantic City…if Nate had listened to him, he might still be alive today, but he shouldn't have been there at all.

When he reached the house, he let himself inside, disabling the alarm system and making a mental note to apologize to Elsa when he next saw her. He stood in the hallway and pulled out the architects drawing of Fiona's dream house.

It reminds me of the first time I lost you in Ireland. I'd see you in my dreams and when I'd wake up and you were still gone The dreams hurt, but they are all that kept me going. They did then and they do now... Had she been haunted by the same dreams when he left her this last time?

He walked around the house, noting the improvements since he had last been there. The drywall was all up and had been plastered, ready for painting or hanging wall paper. In the kitchen, all the units were in place and high price appliances fitted in their respective places.

He hadn't only run out on Fiona this time, he had run out on them all and, even when he hadn't truly trusted Jason Bly, he had left them all under the CSS agents protection. As he walked around, he made notes on the cover of the folder and occasionally stopped to flick through the pages inside to double check a detail.

She had done so much without him... The house was close to perfect. The drawing for a new top of the line security system, the positioning of the sensors... The re-enforced walls for a panic room were already in place... What did she need him for? How could he make things right when she had already done everything?

His hand went to his pocket where the two letters she had written him were hidden along with the small square envelope. She said all she wanted was to be at his side, for them to be together. But would that be enough for her? He ran a finger over the edge of the cardboard package, tracing the line of what it held inside. With no purpose, no job and very little money, could he still be the man she wanted at her side?

He ended up in the lounge, sitting on the couch that was still in the same place it had been on his last visit to the house. Worn out and feeling sorry for himself, he kicked off his shoes and lay down to sleep.

()()()()()()()()()()()

Sam Axe eased his borrowed black Audi A8 sedan out into the heavy morning traffic onto the South Dixie Highway. He had planned his morning at the Merrick Park Mall as if he was running a special op. Factoring in a half hour for driving time, he had estimated he had an hour and a half to complete his mission and get back to the Star Island mansion without his absence being noticed.

Elsa was going to be busy for a minimum of two hours and a maximum of three, having to take a conference call she had been unable to re-schedule. In that short amount of time, he had to drive from Star Island across to Coral Gables, find a parking spot and make his way up to the second level of the mall, which marketed itself as a "upscale, lifestyle center."

His plan was to pick up the ashoka-cut sapphire and diamond ring he had already bought and paid for, then go to the flower shop three stores further along and organize for all of Elsa's favorite flowers to be set in extravagant arrangements and delivered to the Star Island mansion before the end of the day. Once these tasks were completed, he had to take another short drive so he could double check in person that Marco, the Miami Chadwick Hotel's chief chef, had everything he needed to prepare the evening meal he had asked for and get it delivered secretly to the mansion.

Of course all his carefully laid plans were now ruined. One phone call and he'd figuratively dropped everything to aid his friends. Checking his watch, he saw he'd already been on the road for fifteen minutes and he hadn't even reached the off ramp for the I-95.

Looking back, he realized that he should have never left his two best friends alone before making sure they were on the same page. On the drive over to Madeline's after being held in custody for three weeks, he had thought about filling his best friend in on what was waiting for him when he got back home. But the kid had looked so lost and disconnected, he hadn't had the heart to drop it all on him while they were in the back of a car with two CSS agents in the front seats listening to every word they said to each other. Then when Elsa had dragged him out, he was ashamed to admit all thoughts about Michael Westen had gone out of his head.

He finally reached the ramp for the I-95. Now with bit of luck, he was mere minutes away from his destination and then, once he got Mikey back on track, he could get back to his own love life. He was already coming up with a plan where he would tell his big momma a little white lie to gain some time to finish his preparations. She might be mad when she got the call to say he had gotten bored and had gone off to do a little fishing off the beach, but he hoped when she discovered the real reason for his disappearance all would be forgiven and the rest of the evening would go the way he hoped.

Coming to a stop at the security barrier at the entrance to Palm Island, he leaned out of the window and showed his identification. "Sam Axe… I'm here to check on Forty Nine Palm Avenue for Ms Dearbon." He waited while the guard took a look on his list and then the barrier went up.

Driving around to the house, he pulled up on the wide circular brick paver driveway and took a look around. There were no other vehicles in sight or marks in the pavers to say another car had been there recently. His first thought that Fiona had to be wrong about where her errant boyfriend had gone. But then he caught a movement in the curtains covering the lounge window. Drawing his gun, in 'a just in case strategy,' Sam gently pushed the heavy oak and panelled glass door open and then, seeing as it was all clear, he cautiously stepped inside.

()()()()()()()()()

At the sound of car tires outside, Michael sat bolt upright, his hand snaking round to the back of his waistband for a gun that wasn't there. Cursing, he got to his feet and peered out of the window. At the sight of Sam Axe, he slowly relaxed. By the time he opened the door out into the hall, Sam was standing on the threshold of the front door, his Beretta 92FS in his hand.

"Sam?" He couldn't help the sting of indignation at the sight of his friend carrying a gun, something his parole agreement with Bly had denied him. "You are about to become a civilian, Michael, and as a first step in your new life, you need to become accustomed to leaving the hardware at home."

"Hey, Mikey, what are you doin' here?" The dark haired spy stayed in the doorway as the older man instantly put his gun away and closed the heavy front door behind him.

"I could ask you the same," Michael replied, wondering why his friend wasn't still wrapped in the arms of Ms Dearbon. "Why aren't you with Elsa?"

"Your mom called me. Fiona's worried about you, brother."

"I left a note." Why would his mom send Sam after him? And what did Fiona have to be worried about? Hadn't he told them what he was doing for once? Wasn't he being followed by enough people without his friends joining in the parade?

"Er, yeah, that note. It kinda freaked her out, Mikey. That last time you left to make things right, we all almost ended up in-" Sam saw the scowl forming and quickly back-pedaled. " I…er...I think she was hoping to come out here with you. You know, give you the grand tour?"

"I needed to see the place by myself. You know get a feel for it..." Without having Fiona there hanging on his every word and expression because he knew he couldn't deal with it if he caused her to burst into tears again, he silently added. "You want a coffee or something? I think I saw a jar of instant in one of the cabinets."

"Sure thing, Mikey." He followed the younger man into the kitchen and watched as he filled the kettle and set it to boil. "So, what do you think of the place?" he asked, opening up the cabinet which held the glass jar of cheap coffee granules.

Michael leaned back against a counter top beside the kettle with his arms folded over his chest. "The security details suck. I came over on an inflatable and let myself in. I've had the lights on, but not seen any-"

"You came over on a boat?" Sam questioned, not bothering to hide how crazy he thought his best friend was acting.

"I wanted to check out the security. You know, see what -" Michael tried to explain himself.

Since he had returned home, the ex-spy had been made to feel totally inadequate and surplus to requirements. His life as a covert operative hadn't prepared him for coming back to his family, who had apparently decided to make additions in personnel and housing without consulting him. He was hoping for a little support and understanding from his best friend, but Sam didn't even let him finish talking before jumping in.

"Mikey, first off, do you remember what Bly said about no criminal activity? I think that includes stealing boats. And second, you're not in the middle of Fallujah. This is Miami and you're a civilian now."

"Exactly," Michael nodded, only really paying attention to the last five words his friend had spoken. "And that's the point, that's why we need somewhere discreet with more than one road in and out."

"This is a discussion you should be having with Fiona, brother."

"Fi has done nothing but tell me all about her plans. I know what she wants..." He paused, taking some time to study his friend, his eyes narrowing.

All of a sudden, his bubbling paranoia was pouring out over the top as he came to the conclusion they had all known before him. His mind brought forth all the little clues he had missed earlier. And now he wasn't feeling sorry for himself at all, now he was getting angry.

"You knew she was pregnant, right? And that she's been planning all this behind my back?"

"Mike, it's not like that, you weren't around for her to ask... She couldn't hang around waiting for you -" He could see Sam had picked up on his mood and was now twisting the facts to suit him.

"I was - what I did - I had to go after Tom Card, you know that. He would have never let any of you walk away after what happened. You all knew too much. There was only one way to finish it. I did it for her, for all of you."

"Okay, Mike, okay, I get it. I really do. But try lookin' at it from Fi's point of view... you left her right when she needed you. She didn't know if you were alive or ever coming back. You didn't see the state she got herself worked up into."

"But you did?" Michael had picked up immediately on the former SEALs words. He was no longer slouching back against the counter top, but upright with his gaze fixed on his friend. "You knew Fiona was pregnant, and what she was planning and you never said a word to me?" He used a finger for emphasis, jabbing it towards his best friend's face.

"Easy there, fella, I'm not the enemy here..." Sam backed up a couple of steps as the storm broke. "Yes, I knew she was pregnant. I found out about ten minutes after she did, which was a couple of days after you left us… Mike, we couldn't tell you cuz we didn't know where the hell you'd gone or what the hell you were doing... And later," Sam sighed, hoping to make the younger man understand. "She wanted to tell you, brother, but I told her not to. You were already on the edge and I -I didn't think telling you were going to be a father when you were just about to take on Card and Riley was a good idea."

Michael thought briefly about what would have happened in that circumstance, but it didn't mollify his mood. "And later?" he pressed.

"Jeez, Mikey, what do you want me to say, brother? Bly's guys were all standing around at the safe house and in the car ride on the way to your ma's house. At the time, I didn't feel right about just blurting the news out, but maybe I shoulda... Come on, let's sit down and talk about it, huh? I know it's been a shock, but you want out of the agency and you still want to be with Fi, dontcha? So, what's the problem?"

"The problem? The problem is-" Michael waved his arms about. "What about all this?"

"The house…?" Sam was plainly puzzled as what the issue was at hand. "You're gonna need somewhere to live, Mike. You don't wanna stay with your ma forever, do ya? Fiona really likes this place. We were here almost the whole time you were away. I mean, what's not to like? It's a great house in a great neighborhood. You put up some decent fencing, get some motion sensors in and some cameras, bullet resistant glass and re enforced doors and a big screen TV and you'll be set."

"That's the other thing. She's using Glenanne money for all this... I might as well not be here." He was on the move around the room again. "She doesn't need me."

"Yes she does, Mikey, just not the way you think. Fi doesn't need you to do things for her, she needs you to do things with her. Look, brother, ladies like attention and Fi is never gonna admit this and I'll deny ever sayin' it, fella, but you being with her is the only thing that matters to her... The rest doesn't matter at all and you running off on her all the time is killing her."

Michael's eyes went wide and his mouth formed an O, as he tried to find a response which didn't involve violence.

"Look, I understand, I really do. You had a job to do. I get it, but you know she doesn't. You're uncomfortable with her using her family's money to buy a house you've had no say in. I get that, too, Mike. Hey, you don't think hasn't occurred to me that people think I'm mooching off Elsa? But what was Fi supposed to do? Sit around homeless until you came back? And what if you hadn't made it back? Do you have any idea how much that thought scared her? Working on this was the only way to keep her from running off after you, guns blazing."

Michael opened his mouth and then closed it again. He had flashbacks of all the times Fiona had pulled out the hardware and wanted to storm the castle because somebody had threatened or hurt someone she loved. It was the reason he had snuck away from her more than once, to keep her from coming after him.

For a moment, he was back in Ireland, arguing with his first handler, Robin O'Dowd, because Fiona had followed him to the meeting and now she was about to get picked up and he knew he couldn't let it happen. With O'Dowd yelling in his ear, he'd grabbed some smoke grenades and ... He pushed away the memory. Looking back, it had been the beginning of the end of his time in Ireland and it was not something he wanted to think about right then.

Of course she'd poured herself into making a home for their child and she had done it all hoping he'd want the same thing... She was just being who she was... But while it made it easier to understand, it didn't make it any easier to cope with on his part just yet.

While Michael was lost in thought, Sam waited patiently. He could see that he had given the tightly wound spy something to think about. It was written all over the younger man's face as his expression changed subtly as Michael worked through the problem before him.

The former SEAL half smiled. Maybe Mike, who'd spent his whole life finding out things nobody else knew, just resented being the one on the other end of that 'need to know' order with his family. Maybe that was the key to fixing this...but it was going to be painful...

With that thought in mind, Sam edged his way over to the counter top and the boiling kettle. Pulling out a couple of cups from the cabinet above, he quickly made two steaming hot cups of coffee and thrust one into the hand of the younger man, who was still deep in thought.

"C'mon, let's sit down and I'll bring you up to speed," he gently urged the ex-spy to follow him into the living room.

Once they were both sitting down, Mr Axe took a surreptitious look at his wristwatch before beginning to speak. "Look, Mikey... I got something to tell ya and it ain't gonna be easy for either of us..."

Michael's eyebrows swept up and the alarms bells started going off as his already raging paranoia levels hit 11. The coffee cup was carefully placed on the floor and he sat more upright, waiting to hear the worst.

"When your ma called me, I was busy, you know... I was working on something really important... and I gotta get back to it. But you need to hear this before it comes up and you get blind sided again..."

While decades of intelligent work had taught Mr Westen to keep a calm neutral exterior, inside he was trying not to come apart in anticipation of whatever bombshell Sam was going to drop on him this time.

"During his investigation, Bly came across some information and he's figured out that your old boss might have been onto whoever was behind this whole thing and he's gonna try to use it to make this mess go away, once and for all. He didn't want me telling ya about this until he was sure we could get the intel and use it at the hearing."

Michael was momentarily confused, trying to figure out which former handler would have had access to such intelligence and why it hadn't come out before now. The Agency seemed mired in muck... Management, Anson, now Riley and Card... who else was dirty and who else had known about it?

Sam swallowed thickly and continued. "When your ma called, I was on my way to get Elsa a ring... I'm gonna ask her to marry me, Mike."

The younger man went from being suspicious to stunned speechless in a split second. What did that have to do with Jason Bly's investigation?

"Because after everything that happened in Panama..." and he flexed his wounded arm as a reminder, " And talking to Bly about Rayna again...I got to thinking about what happened to her... And I decided that this time I wasn't going to wait around until it was too late."

Michael's mouth fell open. "Ko – Rayn –" he swallowed, as he vividly recalled their final conversation on the topic of his old boss, Station Chief Rayna Kopec. It had been a closed subject for almost a decade now. "Tom said she knew that I'd been targeted by a group within the CIA... Is that – have you found out who she passed her intel onto?"

"That's what Bly is looking into now... But that's not why I wanna talk about Rayna."

"You said you never-"

"I said, I never wanted to hear you speak her name again and that we'd never talk about her or what happened if you wanted to stay friends... so I'm gonna be the one doing the talking and you're the one whose gonna keep quiet and do the listening, fella..."

Mr Westen nodded his silent assent.

"This is probably more than you want to know, but you need to hear this. Rayna and I were alot like you and Fi..." He chuckled bitterly, while Michael tried to block the image of his old boss and best friend doing any of the things he and Fiona were fond of doing.

"Well, no, not exactly, it's more like Rayna was alot like you. She was all about the Agency, the job always came first, but when we found time to get together, we -" The older man blushed as he remembered the sort of things he and Ms. Kopec enjoyed during their down time. A half smile played across his lips again. "I think we both just figured that when we were done working, we would finally be... we thought we had the time to live our lives together after the job was done..."Sam stopped, swallowed hard and then looked back up at his friend, his face a mask of pain. "But we didn't and it almost killed me when she was assassinated."

"I – I didn't know...you were that close," Michael finally spoke, his voice little more than a whisper when he thought back to their conversation, all those years ago in Istanbul, on that fateful day which had nearly ended their friendship.

"So, anyway..." Sam pulled himself together. "I'm not making the same mistake again, Mikey. I'm gonna ask Elsa to marry me while we still have time to be together."

The dark haired man was silent as he tried to make sense of what his best friend was telling him. The idea that Sam Axe was intending to settle down with just one woman had stunned him almost as much as the older man bringing up the subject of Rayna Kopec.

He thrust his hand into his jeans pocket, his fingers closing around the small cardboard envelope. It seemed they were on the same page at least on one subject. Though he had never thought of himself as anything like the former Station Chief, especially as he and his then partner Larry Sizemore had seemed to be always at odds with their superior.

But now Sam had said it, he could see the similarities. He could remember the countless times she had set her mind to something and followed it through, regardless of the cost to herself. The dirty blonde, with her power suits and laser like intellect, had never to his knowledge had a close friend or a family. The Company had been her life and the agents she worked with her only associates. When he had found out about Sam sleeping with his boss, he had been shocked to the core.

"The Ice Queen and the Boy Scout..." Larry had joked when he had passed on the piece of gossip making its way around the US airbase in Turkey.

"Mike, do you get what I'm trying to tell ya, brother?... You've just hadda one helluva close call."

"I get you, Sam." He slowly withdrew his hand from his pocket and smiled. "It's just – just the whole, er, baby... I don't think I... When Nate's baby showed up, I didn't...I mean, I never..."

"Oh, we've all been there, believe me, brother," Sam smiled sympathetically. "Fiona was a mess when she found out. Ya couldn't say a word to her without her jumpin' down your throat. But, she got over it. I mean, it's a baby, it's not nuclear device and neither one of you is stupid, you'll figure it out."

"That's what my mom said. But how are we going to take care of it? I mean... From what you've just said, if it really is gonna be over, there's a chance I could find work... But what do I do? I'm not going back to the CIA, even if they want me. Private contracting is just as risky as working for the Agency and I'd be gone -" He shook his head and looked at the floor. "I don't want to leave, but I've gotta work."

Sam chuckled. "You're not me, that's for sure. Sitting out by a pool all day, enjoying the view and sipping mojitos isn't your thing. And let's be honest, Fi ain't the stay at home type either. But that's a problem for another day. For right now you both need to chill out.. You're due a life time of R n R, buddy, and Fi-"

He didn't know how much Fiona had told her boyfriend about her health, but former SEAL had guessed the Irishwoman had said very little if anything at all. "Fi, has her own problems."

"Problems?" Michael sat up straight.

"Blood pressure, hers keeps going up. We've all been hoping now you're back that it'll settle down."

"She never said... What does it mean?"

"It means she needs to rest up and avoid stress, which is the exact same thing you should be doin'." He looked at his watch again and pursed his lips. He was definitely late calling in. "Hey, how about we stop off at the CSS HQ, you go check in with Bly and then we'll grab a bite to eat."

The spy got to his feet, feeling more optimistic than he had before Sam had turned up. They left the house together, the older man frowned when he saw the state of his girlfriend's alarm system.

"Mikey, ya coulda called me and I'da given you the code..." Sam opened the driver's door to the Audi. "You're payin' to have this fixed, fella, and before you tell me you've got no money, I know you've got the skills to help me out with painting Elsa's sailboat when it goes into dry dock next month."

The ride to the CSS office was taken more or less in silence, as both men were lost in their own thoughts. Michael was slowly coming around to the idea of fatherhood and that he could give Fiona what she wanted, while Sam was beginning to worry that his carefully planned evening was in danger of being canceled.

"I'm gonna wait out here for you, so no trying to duck out the back..." Mr Axe treated his friend to his best stern look. "While you sign in or whatever it is you have to do, I'm gonna give the ladies and call and try to smooth things over. How'd ya feel about lunch at the Chadwick, on me?"

Michael paused, thinking over the offer. "Sure." He got out of the Audi and then leaned back inside. "If you're callin' the house, my mom's car is at the loft. Can you take me over there afterwards to pick it up and let them know?"

Sam sighed, "Not a problem, Mikey. Now go see Bly before he puts out a BOLO on your ass."

The former SEAL watched as his friend went through the glass doors into the lobby of the building containing the Counter Surveillance Service offices. With one of his friends calmed down and back to thinking straight, it was now time to get the other one on the same page and then he could get back to his own special op.

Reaching for his phone, he put a call through to Fiona's cell phone. As soon as he finished dialing, his call was answered.

"Sam? Have you found him?" He could hear the stress in her voice and it made him more determined than ever to get his friends back on track.

"Yeah, we've hadda long conversation and he's checking in with Bly now... I suggested we all meet up for lunch at the Chadwick, you, me, Elsa and Mike what do you think?"

He could her hear her sigh. "I'd love to, Sam, assuming you can get him there."

"I think we can manage that. We're gonna go to the loft and pick up Maddie's car and then he can pick you up and I'll go get Elsa."

"So, what did he say? Was he at the house?"

Now came the difficult bit. "Yeah, he was at the house... I think you ladies may have spooked him a little, you know, with all your plans for the future."

"He doesn't want to be with me?" Her tone was somewhere between anger and cleverly disguised anguish.

"Where'd ya get that idea from, Fi?"

"He ran away in the middle of the night, Sam, again. What else am I supposed to think?"

"That he is right about where you were three months ago... You do remember how crazy you were in the early days, missy? He just needs some time to catch up that's all. Fi, the guy just came home from a life or death mission. I know you remember what post-mission paranoia is like. Mike is still in full-threat operational mode and, all of a sudden, he's had all this stuff thrown at him. He's not really said much, but maybe you and Maddy could ease up on him a bit."

Fiona huffed. "Did he think about us when he ran off in the middle of the night? How many times before he stops disappearing on me? What is wrong with him?"

Sam closed his eyes and swallowed. He wondered briefly if it wouldn't be quicker just to get them in the same room and knock their heads together until they both saw sense or stars, whichever came first.

"He's trying, sister. Hey, at least he left you a note this time, missy. Mike was just doing what he thought was right, Fi. He -"

"I don't want to hear it, Sam... He always does what he thinks is right and be damned what anyone else thinks. When he going to learn to talk-"

She had a point, but then again so did Michael.

"Said his trigger happy girlfriend," Sam snarked, glad for the moment he was out of her reach as she growled into the receiver. "Look, once he's finished with Bly, he'll be over to pick you up. He really wants to be with you, you know that. I mean, just think back to what he was like when Anson had his claws in you or when you went to jail. He went to pieces, Fi... All I'm asking here is you give him a chance to unwind and get his head on straight." He waited for her reply with bated breath.

She sighed heavily. "I can't keep doing this, Sam. I just can't..." and the brokenness in her voice made the older man sad for the both of them. The Irishwoman had a hard enough time dealing with Michael's perceived rejection of her without adding a baby and the hormones and stress that went with it into the mix.

"And nobody expects you to, sister... I'll send him back to you soon. Play nice, okay? And thanks, Fi."

With that call over, he took a moment to catch his breath and think about his next call. Elsa's meeting had to be over by now and she had to wondering where he had gotten off to. The former SEAL hadn't picked up the ring or gotten to any of the other assignments he had set himself.

He could maybe sneak off for a few minutes to speak to Marco, the Chadwick's head chef. But what to do about all the other stuff? A smile slowly broke out on his face and he had the answer. It would help his friends get the alone time they needed and help him out at the same time. Dialing in the number, he waited for an answer.

"Hey, Maddy I found Mike. He's gonna be home soon with your car to pick up Fi. They're gonna join me an' Elsa for a meal. You know, so we can keep an eye on them for a bit."

"So, everything is fine? Did he get his head outta-"

"Yeah, we're working on that, Maddy... But what I'm really callin' about is, do you think you can do me a favor? I need somebody to pick up a special gift for me. It has to be kept on the down low. Can I count on you?"

()()()()()()()()()()()()

Michael walked stiffly out of Jason Bly's office, doing his best to hide exactly how infuriated he was. The guy, for all his easy going attitude and slightly sarcastic turn of phrase, had just bawled him out like he was some kind of delinquent kid.

Yes, he remembered the rules of his parole. He also didn't need reminding he was the CSS and Congressman Cowley's star witness at the upcoming hearing in DC. He also knew that his reputation was beyond tarnished and, if he wanted to stand any chance at all of remaining free instead of spending the rest of his life in some black site prison, he needed to use the few weeks before the hearing to prove to the intelligence agencies and the law enforcement community that he was capable of being a law abiding citizen and was no threat to national security.

The spy stabbed at the elevator call button, staring at his flushed features in the mirrored surface of the doors.

He hadn't been given any opportunity to defend his actions, just a severe warning. No more giving his surveillance the slip, no more late night racing around the streets and, even though there is no concrete proof it was him, no more borrowing without asking other peoples' cars or boats. One more infraction of the rules and he would get a one way trip to Guantanamo Bay until they decided what to do with him.

Reaching the ground floor, Michael marched out of the building and only took a deep relaxing breath once the sun hit his face. The thought of having to go back into that building and face Bly lecturing him on his behavior every day for however many weeks there were until the Congressional hearing was almost more than he could bear.

"You okay, Mikey?" Sam called out from where he sat waiting in the shiny new Audi.

Michael took another deep breath and plastered a reassuring smile on his face. "Yeah, Sam, just great." He climbed in the passenger seat and beamed another smile at his best friend. "You gonna take me to the loft so I can pick up Ma's car... It's, er, nearly lunchtime."

"You sure you're okay, buddy? You look a little green around the gills there." Sam pulled out into traffic and set off towards the loft.

"I'm fine. I guess, I'm not used to having to report in to somebody."

"oooh, did the big, mean Counter Surveillance guy tell you off?" Sam chuckled. "Man, next time I'm comin' in with you, Mikey, to hold your hand... Or do ya think ya might wanna call your mom into his office."

"Okay, enough, Sam. I got it when Bly started in on me. Just – just let it go."

He turned his head to stare out of the window, signaling that he had had enough. But he couldn't stop the half smile which curved his lips. There was no doubting the fact that his best friend knew exactly what to say to make him realize he had been acting just like the delinquent kid that Bly had made him out to be.

()()()()()()()()()()()

He was a block away from his mom's house when Michael brought his mom's car to a stop. He put the late model import into park and let go of the wheel, his hands dropping limply into his lap.

It was so long ago, or at least to him it felt like a whole other life time. Nate had still been alive, though he was a total mess. His mother still looked at him with something akin to pride in her eyes. Sam had just had a narrow escape. He could still remember the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he had jumped out of the Charger at the meth lab out in the Everglades. He had been positive that Rebecca Lange, Anson Fullerton's lackey, had killed his best friend, but mercifully she hadn't, and his trusted former training officer, Tom Card, had given him hope that Fiona would soon be freed from Allarod Penitentary.

Michael shifted in the car's less than comfortable seat, his right hand digging into his jeans pocket. From the very first time he was told he would never be given permission to visit the prison, he had started carrying Fiona's letters around with him. He'd decided if she was going to be made to rot away in a prison cell, he no longer cared about protocol. He put the letters on the passenger seat on top of the photographs which he had already placed there.

His actions had forced his girlfriend to turn herself in for a crime she hadn't committed and then he had almost gotten his best friend killed during his efforts to get her out of the prison she had willingly walked into. After Sam's near miss, when he had gotten a few minutes to himself to think things through, he had made a decision. If he managed to get her out of prison, he was going to make some big changes to his life.

To that end, he had made a call to Barry. What he wanted, he couldn't get through normal channels. One, he couldn't afford it and two, it would have brought too much attention his way. Besides Card or Raynes would have put a stop to it as soon has they found out.

"I want an Asscher cut engagement ring." He had handed the stunned money launderer one of Fiona's dress rings. "The same size as this and the best quality that this will get me." He'd written a figure on a scrap of paper. "Take it out of my account... Oh, and if you mention this to any one at all, there will be little pieces of you washing up on the beaches surrounding the Gulf of Mexico for weeks to come."

Mr Westen held the small, square hard cardboard envelope in his hand. In his minds eye, he was seeing the white gold and platinum ring inside. He had intended to give it to her on the day she walked free, but Nate's death at the hands of Tyler Grey had put an end to that and then, before he knew it, they had been mixed up in yet another conspiracy.

The dark haired man had left in the early hours of the morning to make things right. He had messed up a lot of things in the last year, though at the time he had been sure he had been doing the right thing. Everybody at some point had told him the same thing, including Fiona herself. All she wanted was for them to be together, doing whatever... for him just once in his life to make her his first priority.

He turned the thin cardboard envelope over and over in his hands. Would this make things right, or would it make things a whole lot worse...? He'd had the ring for months, only waiting for the right time, but she didn't know that... Would she think he was just making a gesture because she was pregnant? Or because Sam was proposing that he was following suit.

Michael glanced up and caught sight of the car's clock display. He couldn't put things off any longer. She was waiting for him to get back home. Putting the envelope back into his pocket, he put the Toyota into gear and continued on his way to his mom's house.

The ex-spy had honestly thought once he got clear of the CIA, his life would become less complicated. Pulling up to his mothers driveway, he looked up at the house. Well, he guessed he was wrong...

Complicated didn't even begin to describe his present circumstance.