This is the last chapter I have finished, so I'm going to try to get some more done this week, and hopefully have a new one ready for you next Friday. I've been toying around with the idea of splitting the plot into two stories, so there might actually end up being a sequel to this story. We'll have to see how it goes.

Thanks again for all the reviews. I really appreciate it.

Chapter Ten "Mass Distraction"

Jesse's mouth felt dry. His hand shook, and he thought it would be a good idea to set his gun down on the cluttered table. He didn't watch as Sam opened the folder. He stared at the mess in the living room off to the left. He could tell from where he was standing that his guests weren't looking for anything. They just made a mess because they could. They broke his favorite lamp.

"Uh, Jesse?" Sam's voice snapped in the silence.

"Yeah?" Jesse replied, not trusting his voice with any more words.

"What did your mom do for a living?"

"She was a nurse. Why?"

"Well, not according to this." Sam flipped a page. "If this is a real personnel file and not a bunch of lies, I would say she was a very active CIA operative during the late sixties and seventies."

"What?" Jesse's head snapped to the side where Sam was standing. His eyes scanned the page in a few seconds, but he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Jesse snatched the file from Sam and flipped back to the first page. "This isn't possible."

"You think it's forged?"

"No, I mean, it just isn't possible." Jesse continued turning pages. He saw names he recognized: Tom Card, Larry Sizemore, Phillip Cowan. From the looks of things, his mom had worked with all of them. "This can't be right."

"We need to show this to Mike," Sam said. He sounded nervous. "If your mom was connected to all those people—"

"She wasn't a criminal."

"I didn't say that. They were all legitimate at some point. Maybe. But if she dealt with them in any capacity, we need to know."

"It could be a bunch of lies like last time."

"That's why we should tell Mike. Maybe Pearce can look into it."

Jesse stared at the file again. There were pictures, old ones, but it was clear who was in them. They could have been doctored, maybe, but Jesse had a feeling that whatever the truth turned out to be, there was more to his mom's past than he ever could have imagined. The grainy black and white photos showed her meeting with other agents. Card was in some of them. They looked friendly. Jesse felt his stomach twist at the sight of her smile and the thought that she wasted it on that sad excuse for a man.

"Jess?" Sam spoke softly. "You okay?"

Jesse looked up at Sam. "No, not really."

* * * Burn Notice * * *

Charlie fell asleep on Fiona's lap as she was reading a story, so she decided to move him to Michael's room. She hadn't realized that Michael himself was asleep. He was lying on his side facing the window, and the afternoon sunlight seeped through the blinds, making lines on his face. Fiona wished she could say that Michael looked peaceful when he was sleeping, but she never saw it that way. There was still something in his expression that made her think he was ready to kill at any moment. He had always been like that.

Fiona put the thought out of her mind as she laid Charlie down on the other side of the bed. She was careful not to disturb Michael, knowing how light a sleeper he was, but as she looked back from the doorway, she saw Michael's deep blue eyes staring back at her.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered.

"You didn't," Michael replied.

Fiona didn't believe him, but she didn't say so. "You should sleep."

"I did."

Fiona nodded. It wasn't enough in her opinion, but she wouldn't argue with him. He followed her out of the room, closing the door softly behind him to let Charlie sleep in peace. Once they were out in the front room, Michael headed for the door, and Fiona thought he was going to leave again. However, he left the door standing open, as if in a silent invitation for her to join him on the porch. He didn't say anything. From inside the house, Fiona could see him sit down on the concrete steps with his back to her. His shoulders rose and fell to a strict rhythm. The muscles there and in his neck were visibly tense.

Fiona could have ignored Michael. She could have gone into the sunroom where she had been sitting with Charlie and pretend Michael wasn't there. But a slight breeze came from the open door, blowing fresh, hot air into the cool, stuffy house. He was waiting for her, even though he had no reason to think she would come. She did anyway.

Fiona saw a twitch in Michael's arm as she closed the door with a sturdy thud. He didn't like noises he couldn't see, but even at that, he didn't turn from the bland view of the front yard. He didn't move or speak as Fiona sat down next to him. A trickle of sweat ran down her back whether from the heat or nerves, she couldn't be sure. This was the conversation they couldn't have the previous morning, the one she hadn't been ready for. She wasn't even so sure she could handle it now, but she owed him this much. What he did had not been an attempt to abandon her or get his old life back. She knew that, but she hadn't been able to compose herself enough to admit that he did what he had to. Maybe too, she hated the situation so much, she couldn't accept that no one was to blame for it, that Michael had left her for her own good, just as he had back in Ireland. Fiona always subconsciously believed he had wanted to leave her then, and it wasn't much of a stretch to think he wanted to again when he rejoined the CIA. This insecurity was unlike her, but there it was in all its glory, making her look at it, acknowledge it.

Fiona wished Michael would say something.

As if in answer to her silent wish, Michael let out a long breath. "Fi?"

"Yes?" There was something like eagerness in her voice. She wanted to hear anything he had to say.

"I need you to know—" He paused, collecting his thoughts. "—if I hadn't taken that deal, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life—and I have enough on my conscience already." Michael turned to face her with these last words, and his eyes had that look of honesty she so rarely saw.

Fiona nodded, not trusting herself to speak, but needing to reply. "I know," she said. "I'm not angry at you. I was before, but I wouldn't have wanted you to give up who you are for a promise that didn't work out."

"I meant it, Fi." She had never heard him sound so desperate. "When I said I was done, I meant it."

"I know you did, Michael. Maybe that's why it took me so long to accept that it wasn't going to happen."

"If I could—"

"Don't. There is no if. I told you a long time ago that I would support you, and when the time came, I forgot."

"I left you. Without explanation, without—"

"Without you, Michael. That's all that mattered. I couldn't see past it. I'm still not sure if I can."

"I knew you wouldn't come with me."

Fiona shook her head. "But I'll always be here if you ever make it back."

"It'll be too late then."

"Don't say that. You can't know that."

"Fi—"

"No, you don't get to decide that, Michael. I wanted to hate you when you left, but I know I could never love anyone else. If that means being alone, it's better than trying to forget like I've done for the last three months. Like I did after you left the first time. I can't forget."

Michael shook his head. "Me either, Fi."

She smiled sadly and wrapped her hand around his arm while leaning her head against his shoulder. "I told Jesse once that I belong with you for better or worse. He said it would probably be for worse. Granted I was about to join you in your attempt to blow up Vaughn and his minions..."

Michael laughed weakly. "Sam and I have decided Jesse is more observant than he seems."

"I don't think it takes strong observational skills to know that our relationship is eternally destined for trouble. We don't function any other way."

"Well, he also said that when I left, you might have thought the CIA was more important to me than you."

"If I did, I was fooling myself. I know you, Michael. Better than I think I do. Someone once said you should never doubt in the darkness what you know to be true in the light. I didn't do so well with that for a while, but I'm okay now. I will be. I think."

Michael moved his arm around Fiona's waist and pulled her closer to him. "I know I've left you in good hands."

"My own?"

"I meant Sam and Jesse."

"Oh. They're all right, I suppose. I'm sure I'd get along fine without them."

Michael smirked almost imperceptibly. "I'm sure you would."

* * * Burn Notice * * *

Sam was beginning to wish he had tried harder to convince Jesse to let him drive. They took the streets at 20 miles over the speed limit, and the white knuckle grip Jesse had on the steering wheel was not encouraging. Sam held onto the door handle and prayed for death to come quickly.

Thankfully, they arrived at Madeline's house much faster than they should have, and Sam's prayers went unanswered for the moment. Jesse was out of the car and heading up the walkway before Sam could undo his seatbelt. He hurried after his friend, and saw Michael and Fiona sitting on the porch, rather cozy as they approached. Once he saw them, though, Michael was on his feet, back in "operative mode."

"What's going on?" he asked, eying the file in Jesse's hand.

Jesse took a deep breath. "Remember that favor I said I was going to collect on?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm doing it. Now." He thrust the file toward Michael, and gestured for them all to go inside.

By the time they reached the dining room table, Michael had already begun flipping through the pages, and Fiona was peering over his shoulder.

"I'll get this to Pearce," Michael finally said. "She can find out if it's real. Until then, we can't act on any of this."

"Let me take it to her," Jesse said.

"What exactly was the favor you wanted from me? I know she'll look into it if I ask her to."

"If I can't convince her, I don't deserve to know." Jesse grabbed the file before Michael could argue any more. "If I hurry, I can catch her before she leaves the office."

"Or end up wrapped around a telephone pole," Sam muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. So, what's for dinner?"

"Later, Sam," Michael said. "Jesse, we still don't know where this information came from."

"Yeah we do," Jesse said. "It's Riley. She tried using my mom against me before, and she's doing it again."

"Then maybe she expects us to take it to Pearce. What motive could she have, other than distracting us, and how did she get this kind of information if it is legitimate?"

Jesse shook his head. "I told you, I'm calling in my favor, Mike. I honestly don't care if it is a distraction. If there is any truth in this file, I need to know."

Michael nodded. "Okay."

He didn't have to say any more. Jesse left as quickly as he came, and Sam watched as Michael began to process this new development.

"What do you think, Mikey?" he asked.

"I think this just got even more complicated than it was, and if we're not careful, Riley could tear us all apart."

"Then we stick together," Fiona said. "Like we always do."

Sam nodded, and Michael realized that whether he liked it or not, the old team was back for one last mission. The outcome wouldn't change anything, but they didn't have a choice. As long as Riley was out there, none of them would get a good night's sleep.