I'm back with another—for the moment :)

Just for the record: The official decision for Moral Code was to end it the way the original version did. However, since I love you all so much, I decided to give you an extended ending. Once again, I am going to apologize up front if anyone is OOC, but this was incredibly hard to write—again lol. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own a thing. All characters and rights belong to Matt Nix and USA Network etc.

Fiona POV

Bastard. I thought with a smile as the two bullets embedded themselves in Gilroy's chest. It was about time.

I had gotten tired of Michael's constant tango with the psychopath, and was relieved he was finally dead. Granted, it wasn't exactly how I had pictured it. My version involved more explosives, but the gun would have to do. The idiot didn't even get a shot off, not that I expected him to. No one shot me and got away with it.

My smug smile slipped as I felt the adrenaline start to seep from my being. Without warning my body gave in, the intense fire in my side flaming once again as I glanced down at my blood-stained torso. The sudden drain of energy made me sway, my vision going black. And before I could register it, I was falling to the floor. There was a muffled cry and the impact was stunted as a pair of familiar arms caught me.

Michael.

--~--

Michael POV

Spies are trained to forget emotion. Emotions are unpredictable and costly to an operation. Isolation of the mind is key—remain void, unattached. But despite the training, we are still human. And there are moments where you disregard everything except the emotion. Because it is someone you love.

"Fi!" My arms stopped her descent. The trained part of me wasn't surprised to find her unconscious—I was amazed she had lasted this long. But the other side of me, the human side, was screaming at me to do something, anything to help her. I ripped off my jacket and pressed it to the wound and speed-dialed Sam.

He picked up on the first ring, "Yah Mike."

"Sam I need you to meet me at the loft now. Bring any medical supplies you can find. Fi's hurt." My voice wavered as my hands worked to stifle the bleeding.

"Mike what…?"

"No time Sam—she's been shot—just get here." With that I hung up and rummaged under the bed with my free hand. I found what I was looking for and pulled the box of supplies out. It wasn't much, just an assortment of bandages for my accumulative injuries, but it would have to do until Sam arrived.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

She slept through the night and into the morning. Though I wasn't surprised, I'd been shot enough. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief as I watched her chest rise and fall. It had been a long night.

By the time Sam got to the loft I had the bleeding under control, yet it did little to calm my apprehension. We were past the point of hospitals. We both knew it. Fi had already lost so much blood that the ride to the hospital alone would kill her. We had to do it here, and it had to be fast. Sam had brought everything we would need to perform the makeshift surgery. I was surprised he had gotten there that quickly with the amount of supplies, but he was Sam and he had yet to let me down. We gave each other a knowing look before grabbing what we needed and setting to work.

The wound was ragged, but a clean shot. We got lucky. Two more inches in and vital organs would have been hit. I remember my mind swaying at the thought. If it had been two more inches, she would be dead. And I would never forgive myself.

I closed myself off then, forcing my mind to work methodically through the graphing and the stitching. I pretended it was someone else. Just someone who needed saving, like any other client, like always. It was the only thing that got me through.

I had set Fi down on the bed afterward, and my mind registered how light she was. Even more breakable than before and my stomach clenched as the events of this evening came back; how close I came to losing her.

A pressure on my right arm brought me back to the present. I looked over to find Fiona watching me. Her eyes were still dulled from the ordeal, but there was a flicker of recognition and I knew she would get the spark back in time.

"Michael," her voice was rough and I sushed her and reached from my place on the bed to the glass of water on the bedside table. She took a sip and then returned her eyes to mine.

"You're OK Fi," my response was a whisper as I brought a hand up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"We were so close Michael," she continued, eyes still closed, "too close in my personal opinion. One wrong move and we'd both be dead." I felt her stiffen beside me and I shifted closer, my arm going around her gently.

"But we're not Fi," my voice soft as I laid my head against hers.

"No," she started, wincing slightly as she shifted to face me. "We're not, thanks to me." She smirked and I smiled despite myself. Typical Fiona.

"This is the last psycho I am saving you from Michael," her voice attempted a scolding tone. "How many times did Sam and I warn you about the slippery bastard? You push and push until it comes to this and I don't…"

I put my hand over her mouth to stop her. Her breathing was coming in gasps and I didn't want her getting herself worked up, not this soon into recovery. That and I knew I had screwed up. I had screwed up royally, and by some miracle we had made it out alive.

Fiona caught my warning and calmed herself. I removed my hand. "I know Fi," my tone must have revealed more than I intended because she looked at me then. The look in her eyes told me she understood. No matter how much she wanted to kill me for it, she understood. And that was enough for her, for now.

"Never again Fi," I couldn't stop the words, the emotion coming through. I kissed Fiona on the forehead and breathed in the scent of her, trying to calm my inner turmoil. Never again. I vowed never to put her through something like this again. Not if I had it in my power to prevent it.

She let out a contented breath and snuggled the best she could into my side. Careful of the IV, I tightened my hold on her and breathed in again. She was here. She was alive. And I wondered how I could have been so blind before to realize: she was all I ever needed.

Eh, I still like the original better—but I don't think this addition is horrible. Thanks for reading guys and I hope this was worth the wait. I am on Spring Break, so hopefully I can pull some more fics out of my head. I have so many post-finale ideas, but for some reason I am having trouble getting them on paper. Figures—I get free time and can't do anything with it lol.

--HV