A/N: This next chapter covers Fiona's POV for the events of 7.01 "A New Deal" through 7.02 "Forget Me Not." I don't own "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele, but I think the words lend themselves perfectly to understanding where Fiona's head was at in choosing the lesser of the two men in her scenario.
This chapter also shares the common backstory with Purdy's Pal's terrific tale regarding Fiona and Carloser called "Pale Imitation," as well as her brilliant piece about Madeline, "Blackbird's Song," so there are several references to things that occurred in those stories.
This vignette takes place during the time Dexter Gamble held Fiona prisoner while awaiting a phone call from Michael Westen.
"Rolling in the Deep"
"I'm alittle busy right now, Sam."
"Yea, Fi, look, no matter what you're doing, I need you to put that on hold for a second, okay? I need you to meet me and Jesse at Carlito's in—"
She had known something was up when she had gotten the call. Her finely tuned sense of impending trouble that had kept her alive all those years growing up in Ireland and during her service to the Cause, her ability to read people that had kept her alive as a gun runner and later a bounty hunter had gone off.
"I can't put it on hold, I'm on a job. I'm bringing in a skip."
However, spending over a year of lying to herself in defense of her heart and her sanity had dulled that edge. Once Seamus had helped her resolve her Greyson Miller problem and her older brother had seen to it the other little issue that had been buzzing around in the background was dealt with, she'd been freed to immerse herself in her new world with her new man and the redhead had done so deliberately.
So Fiona had ignored the buzz at the back of her brain, ignored Sam's protestations that Carlos was a big boy who could handle this solo and hung up on him. She hadn't been about to abandon her partner.
The brutal assault on Miller and his minions had certainly slaked her blood lust for some time to come she'd been sure and unlike a certain man who used to be in her life, Fiona had been made to see and deal with the fallout that her, and yes their, actions had had on the people around them. She was done with all that and bagging six figure bad guys would be quite enough to keep her occupied and content.
Maybe if she had listened to that hint then, she wouldn't be in the position she was in right now.
But the bail jumper had been down and out, Carlos grinning and shaking his hand slightly after punching the bruiser's lights out when the bean bag round to the chest had failed to put him all the way down.
And then he had kissed her… right there… right in the middle of a job… it had reminded her of someone else she'd lost back in Ireland a long time ago for just a second before she'd shoved that memory away and her phone had gone off again. She'd warned Sam that whatever it was had better be important.
~~There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch, it's bringing me out the dark~~
The look on Sam's face had told her what… or more accurately who… this had really been about before she'd ever sat down. The fact that he'd ordered her the kind of beer he liked had been another good indication she wouldn't like what he'd have to say and want to stay. But she'd heard him out in silence.
"If I had known this was about Michael, I wouldn't have come. " Sam at least had had the good grace to look apologetic, but that hadn't stopped her from pointing out the obvious. "I haven't seen him in nine months. Neither have you…. I have a life now. I have a new house, a new business, a new man."
On the way over, she'd almost convinced herself this'd had something to do with Elsa's surprise party.
~~Finally I can see you crystal clear
Go 'head and sell me out and I'll lay your ship bare~~
Jesse and Sam had both been quick to assure her that all they required was babysitting Madeline. Fair enough, she'd sent Carlos to do the same when that business with Miller had gotten too hot. The older woman might have been Michael's mother, but Mrs. Westen was still family regardless of what her son had chosen to do and his enemies still sniffing around would be dealt with as severely as hers had been.
"She has enough on her mind right now. Charlie's custody hearing is tomorrow."
"Charlie? Maddie's getting custody of Nate's Kid? Did I miss something? You guys don't tell me anything, seriously."
That was because Jesse had been too busy with his new job to hang around with them much anymore, but she had been more concerned at that moment with why Madeline was getting a custody hearing for her grandson than why the formerly tight knit quartet had now become a relatively disconnected trio.
~~See how I leave with every piece of you
Don't underestimate the things that I will do~~
Carlos had gone to see the little boy's mother in jail at Madeline's urging once Ruth had gotten out of the prison infirmary following a drunken driving accident on her way back to Miami and her new lover had been the one to convince Fiona to pay for the ex-Mrs. Westen's court ordered treatment program.
"Ruth fell off the wagon. She's in rehab. She's not fit to be a mother."
And while she may have spent some time in an alcoholic haze following her release from CIA prison, she would never have done that if it would have endangered a child… If she'd had a child, this would have…
Fiona swallowed thickly and blinked back a tear, either because she sat bound to a chair while Gamble paced the empty dusty room she was imprisoned in because someone had hired the madman to investigate her former absentee lover or because that future no longer existed or some of both.
"All the more reason to figure out who this guy is and what he wants, let's face it, Mike's enemies are our enemies." And unfortunately that had turned out to be all too true, but she hadn't known that then.
"Fine, but I'm doing this for Madeline."
And she had flounced off to spend some quality time with her ex-boyfriend's mother playing guard dog.
~~There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch
And it's bringing me out the dark~~
Watching her new boyfriend interact so naturally with Michael's nephew had made her both happy and sad, as it often had when she would remember how uncomfortable the spy had been around his own brother's offspring. As she had surveyed the street outside his boyhood home for trouble, Fiona hadn't been able to stop the feeling of melancholy that had come over her then. Carlos had fit in seamlessly with Charlie and Maddie, from the first time she had arrived after Seamus' departure to find that her Latin lover was Mrs. Westen's new best friend, integrating in ways Michael had never been able to.
~~The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all~~
And while his mother had ranted about giving up smoking and just calling the police to resolve their problems, the ghost of her former flame, who had been downright chatty while she'd been trying resolve her tactical issues a few months ago, mercifully had had no commentary on the situation.
"We can take care of it ourselves, just like we always do."
Since the last thing she had needed at that moment was any more reason to think about the contrast between what she had lost with Michael Westen and what she had built for herself out of the ashes of her life. The dark haired man wasn't even there and he still managed to keep hurting her somehow.
~~The scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling~~
But the ride from NW North River Drive to the State DCF offices on NW Second Avenue in downtown had been thankfully short even in the mid-afternoon traffic as she had escorted Madeline to the custody hearing while her new man had remained behind to watch over the older woman's grandson. The Irishwoman had found herself imagining the pout that would have been firmly on Michael's face, who would have decided watching over his mother was more palatable than his nephew, instead of the relaxed smile and adoring kiss that had been on Carlos' countenance as he'd told her to be careful.
~~We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside of your hand
And you played it, to the beat~~
Sam's call had sent her flying through the corridors. Their mystery man was somewhere here in the building with Michael's mother and she was going to finish this with a well-placed shot between the eyes after her well-placed shot between the legs had forced the man to tell her everything. But the conference room had been empty and her panic had risen. What if he had kidnapped Madeline?
But Dexter Gamble had managed to kidnap her instead…
Fiona had a flashback to that moment where the man pacing in front of her had turned the tables on her. One moment he had been a gardener who needed to get out of her way and the next there had been a rag with chloroform clamped over her face while her stronger opponent had pinned her down.
"Jayzuz! Sean wa' right when he said America had changed ya..." Her brother's words were the ones to come back to haunt her this time. As much as she wanted to deny it, Shay had been right. She had gotten sloppy and whoever this man was who knew the truth about Michael Westen, he had gotten the drop on her. No matter where she looked, the petite former paramilitary couldn't find an opening.
Her chin dropped to her chest momentarily as the reality that she was now relying on Sam Axe to come up with a grand gesture penetrated to her core and the redhead ground her teeth in frustration, refusing to let herself miss Michael, never mind hope that he would somehow appear. He was gone.
Or was he…?
"How the hell d'you hit that guy?"
"Lucky shot, I guess…"
They had been pinned down, running out of ammo… She had taken out one of the men before Carlos had pulled her back down behind the Jeep up on blocks and Seamus' warning about her Latin lover getting them killed trying to protect her had been ringing in her ears when they had decided to offer themselves up as target practice and then suddenly the gang banger wielding the assault rifle…wasn't.
And as she'd stood there staring around the suddenly too quiet car lot, she had felt it… He was there! It had made no sense whatsoever, but somehow the Irishwoman had just known there'd been something more to it. Standing there analyzing where the shot had to have come from, it had been her older sibling's voice that had been in her head again. "But ya know he'll be back one day an' thot fella o' yars… I can tell ya now is nae gonna like it one bit an' then whot d'ya think is gonna happen next?"
So, instead of walking over to that abandoned Mercury Marquis, she had followed the others inside.
~~Baby, I have no story to be told
But I've heard one on you
And I'm gonna make your head burn~~
In retrospect, as she'd spent the last hour tied to a chair waiting for Michael Westen to show up, it might have been good to know if there was any possibility of him actually doing so. While she'd sat in that ancient office chair back at the body shop, fidgeting and kicking the table, wanting to be anywhere but there, the voices in her head had stopped whispering, talking over the top of each other instead.
"I know there is no way I'm going to get her back. It's been too long, too many things have happened."
"Relationships have survived worse," Michael had reassured Dan Tesmond, but really was talking to her.
"Nothing is going to happen because Michael and I are finished!" she had shouted at her brother.
"Whotever ya say, sis…" had been Shay's knowing rejoinder before they had gone off to war with Miller.
Suddenly, Sam's voice had pulled Fiona out of her disconcerted reverie. "You alright, Fi?"
"Fine…." But their expressions had clearly said they had known differently. Staring back out at what could have been a killing field except for a bullet from the blue, her heart was torn again, as it always was when he was involved. "After nine months, we're still dealing with the fall out of Michael Westen."
Dixon showing up had given her just the excuse she'd needed to get out of there and she had taken it.
~~Think of me in the depths of your despair
Make a home down there
As mine sure won't be shared~~
As she had stalked around the area and made her way back towards where Carlos had relocated Sam's ride, she'd let her gaze linger on the silver car. Only a few people who could have made that shot…No, Michael did not get to just drop in, turn her world upside down and invade her heart again because he would just leave again when he was done like he always did. It didn't matter if he'd been there or not…
~~The scars of your love remind me of us
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all
he scars of your love, they leave me breathless
I can't help feeling~~
"Let's hope for your sake that you two were as close as they said," the madman murmured, not pausing in his pacing or peering out of the windows to look at her. That maniac who had captured her because she was supposed to able to put him in touch with Michael Westen hadn't spoken directly to her since he'd tapped her awake with the side of his straight razor, thank God it was the side, under an hour ago.
"I haven't seen him in almost a year. He disappeared after his last run in with the government."
If her abductor had been so damned smart, he would have known that Michael had abandoned her for a mission months ago and they'd had no contact at all since. I needed to protect you. I needed to protect all of us. Yes, she was so much safer now because of his protection, ta oh so much for that, Michael…
"Ah, ah, ah, don't lie to me. If I wanted a CIA cover story, I would ask for it."
How she had wished that it had only been one of their damned cover stories. Her declaration she wasn't lying had earned her a backhand that hadn't stung nearly as much as the truth that she truly didn't know where he was, even if she had suspected he was in Miami somewhere.
"I don't know where he is…" How many times over the years had that been true since he'd left the first time over a decade ago? And now not knowing could kill her literally instead of just metaphorically.
"You're lucky I don't believe you." With his fist buried in her hair at the base of her skull and his face so close Fiona could smell the fear coming off the fugitive, she had gambled for her life.
Telling her captor that Sam Axe could reach Michael had been her best ploy at the time. The ex-SEAL had been her best shot to keep breathing while her friends came up with had refused to speculate on the possibility of whether or not that included Sam being able to reach his best friend. But as the minutes dragged on, she couldn't keep her mind off the dark haired man who once had her heart.
~~We could have had it all~~
"You ran away in the middle of the night for my benefit?"
~~Rolling in the deep~~
"You left, Michael. You had a choice to make and you made it. I always thought, maybe, when it came down to it that- but you didn't…"
~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~
"So, no, getting back in isn't just a way to survive or to protect the people I love. It's what I want. And if you truly care about me, you should damn well want for me what I want for myself. "
~~And you played it, to the beat~~
"This isn't about one fight, Michael. If you didn't see this coming, you weren't paying attention. You're too worried about your own future for there to be one for us."
~~We could have had it all~~
"Maybe this isn't your fight, Fi. Just because it's my path doesn't mean it's yours."
~~Rolling in the deep~~
It's a new job, Fi, but it's not a new life. I like my life and I want to live it with you.
~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~
"I need a rest as much as you do, Fi, believe me."
~~But you played it, with a beating~~
"I couldn't leave you in there forever. They weren't just gonna forget everything that happened and release you. So I made a deal."
So she'd been contemplating the bitter irony that Michael had left her again and again, starting in Ireland and ending in a secret CIA black site prison, in order to save her life, or so he'd said, and now she just might die because of his absence and her ignorance of his whereabouts when the phone buzzed.
"You're cutting it close, Mr. Axe…"
The former guerilla looked about, frustrated that while her kidnapper had unobstructed views of everything, she couldn't see and could barely hearing anything. She hoped Sam would somehow be able to clue her in and she kicked herself again for ignoring the warning signs that had gotten by her.
"Who is this?" Gamble demanded. That caught her attention. "Westen…?"
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his name as the agitated man went to look out the boarded up windows. "They said you weren't in Miami." She could almost make out Michael's snarky reply, the garbled sound of his voice after almost of year's absence was enough to put all her senses on high alert.
"Stop right there, Westen. Turn around and take off the vest."
So she had been right! That had been Michael saving them at the derelict body shop. Why the hell hadn't he just let them know what was going on? Whot tha feck wa' he playing at wit' thar lives?
"Oh good, we're on the same page then."
While she listened to the two men verbally sparring over the terms and conditions that were going to allow her to live, Fiona couldn't calm the conflict in her very soul. So, her so-called white knight had come riding to rescue her and yet he was the very reason she was in the dragon's den in the first place.
~~Throw your soul through every open door
Count your blessings to find what you look for~~
"You get ten seconds of quality time, Westen. Make it count."
It was a blessing to finally be freed of that damned gag. Being able to keep her voice from betraying the emotions broiling within her would be almost too much to ask. But she was a Glenanne, dammit!
"Fi…"
That one softly spoken syllable caressed her ears like sweet velvet, but she refused to allow it to influence her. She needed to keep her head on straight if she going to get out of this mess in one piece.
"I'm here, Michael." Here because of you, you know that, right? Yer tha reason thot all this happened, everything thot's happened over tha last year….
"I'm going to get you home."
She couldn't stop the sound that comment pulled from her, her mind jumping from the destruction she'd wreaked on their rundown little flat in Belfast to images of fire engulfing the loft, and she'd dropped her head, lest the fugitive see what was on her mind… on her heart.
"And Fiona?..." She hated that she was waiting breathlessly to hear what he was going to say next.
"Tis time ta be brave, little angel."
~~Turn my sorrow into treasured gold
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you sow~~
The former terrorist looked up at the phone, faintly hearing glass breaking in the distance.
"I suppose it wa' a code o' sorts…. Whot it really meant wa' get down on tha floor, close yar eyes an' start praying til tis over."
Making eye contact for the last time with the operative who had taken her, Fiona jerked hard and sent herself and the chair crashing to the dirty floor. As the shots began to fly through the walls, she closed her eyes tightly and prayed if it was her fate to die today a bullet ridden corpse, which had always been a distinct possibility given her upbringing and occupation, that it was over quickly.
~~We could have had it all
We could have had it all
It all, it all, it all~~
As she lay there, still bound to the chair, staring at the ceiling, hearing the thunder of boots coming her direction, Fiona knew she was going to have to confront the outcome of the choices she had made this past year. Michael McBride had shown up from her past to preserve the present, but what would the future hold? Or was she really confronting her choices or just having to deal with the fallout from his?
~~We could have had it all~~
"Michael, we were gonna get out. In Panama, you said that we were done with all this. You said it would just be us."
~~Rolling in the deep~~
As she exited the building surrounded by a quartet from the SRT, a lone female figure in a small sea of uniforms, she saw him there. Oddly the first thing she noticed was the color of his shirt, the strange shade of pink that was nothing like anything she'd ever seen him wear, and then the wholly disheveled condition of his clothing and near lack of personal grooming. The beard was a scruffy mess, though his hair had been trimmed albeit badly. But the light of hope shining in his eyes was a knife in her gut.
~~You had my heart inside of your hand~~
It's the only home we've shared.
It won't be the last.
Then the Irishwoman saw Carlos running towards her and she let herself focus on him alone, falling into his arms and closing her eyes as the man who'd been there for her every day since the day that Michael Westen had burned all her dreams to ashes began to kiss her, relief pouring out of the younger man.
~~And you played it to the beat~~
She buried herself in her new lover's embrace because she knew as soon as she saw him that she did still love Michael, there was no denying it. But she also knew down to her soul that although he'd always be there for the grand gesture, Michael Westen was never going to show up for day to day life.
"D'ya think tha new man in yar life will be so understandin'?"
And if she had chosen to bury herself in her old lover's embrace, no matter how sweet that moment would have been, Michael McBride would be gone again, just like that cold morning in Dublin, just like that humid afternoon in wherever the hell they'd been holding them, and Michael Westen would offer her an apologetic smile and assure her that as soon as it was over they could be together again…
And then he'd be gone…
~~We could have had it all
Rolling in the deep
You had my heart inside of your hand~~
Carlos had gone to bring the car around, but had insisted she get the slashes on her arm treated. All she had wanted to do was leave and Fiona hated herself for wanting to run away. Glenannes dinnae run. They confronted it head on with o' block o' C4 or some hot lead. But where she was bleeding from once more, the wound that had never really closed was not going to be treated as easily as those tiny cuts.
But it had been too late to retreat.
"Hello Michael."
"You okay?"
"It's just a few stitches…. the glass in the windows. It could have been worse."
But she wasn't standing in front of an ambulance anymore in the Miami humidity. She was sitting in the Braeside Inn, facing the man she taken away with her on her first mission for PIRA to infiltrate the Real IRA, trusting him with her life and her heart, as she'd let down her walls and they had made love.
"You remembered my story…?"
"I'd never forget it."
She smiled at him tentatively and his answering smile was full of that same hope that had always made him unstoppable. Once he firmly got his sights on something, he would never let it go until it was done.
"He escaped prison and traveled a few thousand miles to get her back. That should count for something."
"Grand gestures are great. Sometimes I think it's the day to day stuff that's the hard work."
"You know who I am, Fi. I'm not—"
"Yeah, I know."
Yes, she knew who he was and the sad fact was whether they loved each other was irrelevant because he would always love the game more than her, always had, always would. As he breathed her name on a sigh, the way would melt her heart in a moment, and started to come towards her, another memory of their time together in Ireland surfaced and she moved towards him before he could raise his arms.
"Who's the girl?"
"Fiona Glenanne… believe me, lad, ya wonnae be wanting any o' thot. Besides she's taken."
~~But you played it
You played it~~
She'd heard the exchange between the handsome young man whose lively eyes had been on her the whole evening while she'd passed her recruitment test into the Real IRA. If she hadn't had PIRA business on her mind that evening, she might have indulged her curiosity. She'd seen him hanging about in her brother Sean's crowd of cohorts before and knew he'd been watching her for a while.
But as she'd walked up to that rebel organization's talent spotter and brushed her lips over his cheek to say that yes, she was as good as her reputation and more, she knew what the bartender mistakenly thought about the two of them and she'd heard what the brash Irishman had answered in return.
"Taken…? Ya see thot? Thot's tha kiss ya give when tis over."
And with her heart breaking so she could assure that it would be broken no more, Fiona met him before he could mold himself around her as he had done thousands of times already, brushed her lips past his scruffy cheek, trying so hard not to be affect by his proximity, his warmth, his scent, and whispered into his ear, "Take care…" because she did wish him well and because I love you could never be said again.
~~You played it
You played it to the beat~~
