A/N: This is the fifth part of the 6.01 premiere AU that was originally posted as Chapter 11 in "Reconnecting."
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6.01 AU – This is My Island in the Sun - Part 5
An alternate for Season Six and beyond following on from 5.16 – Depth Perception
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Miami, 29th December 2012
Fiona Glenanne-Westen was close to tears. Her blue-green eyes were glistening with unshed moisture and her breaths came in deep gulps as she fought the urge to bawl her eyes out like a weeping child. Gripping the steering wheel of her brand new armor-plated Jeep Cherokee so tightly her knuckles turned white, she forced herself to stare straight ahead at the plain grey concrete wall of her parking space in the underground garage belonging to the luxury apartment building where Mr. and Mrs. Westen had made their home.
She was five days passed her due date and their baby was showing no signs of wanting to be born.
If that wasn't bad enough, Christmas had been an awful affair as the disappointment had set in when she realized the blessed event wasn't going to happen. To top that off, Miami was basking in an unseasonal tropical heatwave for December, which was apparently designed to take her misery to a whole new level. She felt hot, sweaty, uncomfortable and, most of all, fat.
The auburn haired woman sniffed and shifted awkwardly in her seat. That was another thing. She also had a desperate urge to use the bathroom, even though she had emptied her bladder less than half an hour earlier and the little monster who refused to come out into the world was doing his damnedest to rearrange her internal organs to give him the extra room he needed to continue to grow... It was so unfair...He shoulda been born already.
Gulping back the scream which was trying to claw its way out of her throat, she wiped a shaky hand over her eyes and used some of her old meditation techniques in an effort to calm herself down. A beautiful mountain stream, cool water running between her toes.... Michael Westen tied to a tree and she had a pair of nutcrackers in her hand...
Placing a hand over her bump, feeling the slow strong movements of her son trying to get comfortable in what had to be a very cramped space, she pushed away all the hormone fuelled self-pity. She was letting her crazed emotions get the better of her and that wouldn't do. She was a Glenanne and Glenannes didn't burst into tears because they were hot and miserable. Glenannes got off their butts and did something about it.
For the last two weeks, she had gone to sleep dreaming of finally getting to meet the life growing inside her, to hold him, the feel of his soft skin, smell his scent. What color would his hair be? Would he be a quiet baby or loud and demanding? What was it was going to feel like to nurse him? Each morning she was woken by a throbbing ache in her breasts and the hope that she would be holding her baby by nightfall and each day ended with her disappointed and exceedingly grumpy. Michael, who was being far more supportive than she had ever thought possible, had taken to rising early and coming back home later and later in an effort to avoid her mood swings.
She had read all the old wives tales and had taken to going on long walks through Bay Shore Park. She had also gone out driving, searching out the most pot holed sections of roads. They had been eating curry or salsa and even spicy Cajun recipes every day. But all to no avail and then today she had attended a scheduled ante natal appointment with their former client Doctor Lauren Martinez at her Overtown clinic and hearing the news from Lauren had just pushed her deeper into despair.
"I'm sorry, Fiona, but he's just not ready to be born yet. He's in the correct position now, but -" Lauren had bitten her lip before making the suggestion. She already knew how her patient felt about what she was going to say. "Look, I know you wanted to avoid surgery, but I really think you should talk with Michael and let me book you in for a C-Section."
"Isn't there anything I can do, you know, to try and speed things up?" she'd asked hopefully, not caring one bit if she sounded like a scared teenager. "I've been doing my own research and we've tried a few of the suggestions. I've been going on long walks. I spent a whole afternoon driving over every pot hole I could find in Dade and even Broward County. We've had spicy food every night for the last week. I -" she'd paused. "Well, I heard that there's one sure way - but Michael isn't keen, he's worried..."
Lauren had smiled knowingly. "You're healthy. Tell him I said there's no medical reason for you not to - indulge. Now, go home, rest and try to be patient."
Patient? Hah! Why does everybody keep telling the pregnant lady who needs to pee every ten minutes to be patient?
She didn't want to have a C-Section. Surgery would leave her vulnerable during the time it took to heal. Intellectually, she knew they were under the protection of the US government. Michael's retirement package had given him a good pension, healthcare and sanctuary from all their collective enemies both foreign and domestic. But that didn't mean she could shake off a lifetime of being careful.
Patient. Bah!... Anybody who knew her at all knew that particular word didn't belong in the same sentence as the name Fiona Glenanne-Westen.
The Irishwoman let go of the steering wheel and then slapped her hands back down, a look of determination coming to her tear stained blotchy face. It was time to take charge. Looking down at her large protruding belly where her son was happily punching on her kidneys, she smiled grimly.
"It's time fer ya ta come out, son," she told him and then, climbing awkwardly out of the tall vehicle, she slammed the door and looked towards the elevator which would take her up to the twentieth floor. "Let's go wait fer yar Daddy."
Tapping her swollen foot in its ugly flat canvas shoe on the carpeted floor of the elevator, Mrs. Westen rode up to the twentieth floor hoping and praying all the way nobody else would want to join her in the small space. If one more person stared at her bump and then asked "Ooh, it can't be long now, when's the happy day?" in that stupid irritating tone which set her teeth on edge...
Thankfully the elevator went straight to her floor and Fiona quickly punched in the six digit code to gain entry to her home. Locking the door behind her, the Irishwoman dropped her bag onto a small round table and then with a sigh kicked off the awful shoes, which were the only things she had been able to wear for the last two weeks.
As soon as they had both gotten over the shock of her pregnancy and had come to terms with the fact they were going to become parents, they had set about the task of finding a home to raise their baby. As the list of requirements grew, the short list of suitable properties became smaller and smaller and each time one particular sticking point couldn't be unstuck.
None of the houses they visited could supply the level of security a hyper paranoid ex-spy and his gun running, former terrorist wife felt was required to keep their baby safe, at least not in their price bracket.
It had been Sam's girlfriend who had suggested they took a look at a new apartment building opposite Bayshore Park. The front entrance required a key card to get into the lobby and there was a twenty four hour concierge service manning the desk checking on visitors. A similar system was in place to get into the underground parking levels with security guards and barriers.
Their apartment on the twentieth floor facing towards the ocean, which meant they were not overlooked and anybody either rappelling down from the roof top or climbing up from the ground would be seen before they reached their target.
With just a few minor adjustments, they had their fortress and with the park across the road, a choice of two swimming pools on the roof, a gym and health spa all on site, plus the best in home security, the place was ideal at least for the next two or three years.
With her ugly shoes dispatched, Fiona turned the central air to the lowest possible setting, filling the large open plan living space with icy cool air before crossing over the light colored wood floor to slide open the doors to the large balcony to let in the breeze coming in off the ocean.
Twenty floors up, with the balcony wall made from bullet resistant, darkened privacy glass meant she could walk outside confident that it was impossible for her to been seen even by a sniper with a top of the line telescopic sight on one of the yachts in the nearby marina or out at sea.
She smiled fondly at the memory of Sam borrowing his lady friend's fishing boat so that they could test out the theory that a sniper wouldn't be able to get a clear shot over the top of the bullet resistant glass balustrade. It had been a lovely day, lying side by side, each of them sighting their favorite sniper rifles trying to line up a shot on the two cardboard cut-out people they had placed on the balcony.
Staring out at the view as she reminisced, Fiona let the cold air from the overworked central air system and the sea breeze cool her overheated body while she began to plan the seduction of Michael Westen. If all went well, he would end the night thinking all his birthdays had come at once and, with a bit of luck if the old wives held an ounce of truth, she would have her baby boy in her arms by tomorrow.
Turning, she strode purposefully into the bedroom they shared, stopping along the way to collect fresh linen for the bed from the large airing cupboard in the laundry room. It had been two months since they had been fully intimate. There had been lots of cuddling and touching during that time, but as she had got bigger and her temper had grown shorter, things had cooled in the bedroom.
Well, that was going to change. She could be seductive... She could be alluring... Dammit, he helped get her into her present state, the very least he could do was help her out of it...
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Being made to believe he had lost Fiona in a bloody gun fight had finally forced Michael Westen to accept how much he loved the tiny Irishwoman. His utter desolation during the short time his friends had kept up the lie was something he never wanted to face again. When she had revealed herself to him, it had changed everything. He had been at his lowest point. Only the thought of finding her killers had been keeping him going and then, on that stormy night on Grand Cayman, he had been given his life back. From that moment on, he had made himself a solemn promise he would do whatever it took to make Fiona Glenanne happy.
Now he was beginning to wonder if he was up to the task of being a husband and father. Over the last few weeks, his wife had changed. Each time he approached the front door of their apartment, he wondered which Fiona was going to be waiting for him on the other side. There was sweet, maternal Fiona, who would have a meal waiting for him on the dining room table and who liked to spend the night cuddling. Then there was at the other extreme crazed psycho Fiona, who greeted him with some object flying at his head before bursting into tears and when he tried to offer some comfort would catch him with a punch or toss him onto the floor with an Akido throw.
Up to the sixth month of the pregnancy, Fiona had worked alongside him and Sam as security consultants for Sam's girlfriend, Elsa Dearbon's, many business interests. But by the time she entered the third trimester and was confined to mundane office duties, the flame haired woman with unbounded energy was suddenly tiring easily and her usual uncertain temper had increased tenfold.
"So, Mikey, are we calling it a day? I mean, it's coming up four o clock and it's happy hour," Sam Axe asked as he peered out of the passenger side window of the Charger.
"You go if you want. I want to give it another coupla hours at least," Michael replied, his eyes on the exit to the Chadwick Hotels parking garage.
Over the last few weeks, some of the Chadwick Hotel guests had complained that their vehicles had been used without authorization. Items had been moved, scuff marks to the bodywork and, in one case, the interior smelling of cigarette smoke. So the Chadwick Groups newest security consultants had set up three bait cars, all fitted with trackers, and then positioned themselves out of sight to see if they could discover who was borrowing the vehicles and what they were doing with them.
With an exaggerated sigh, the older man slumped back in his seat. "Just because you're avoiding the little lady, I don't see why I have to suffer too...We know whoever is taking the cars always has 'em back by five at the latest and they haven't taken one today, so we should -"
"Sam, that Caddy going up the ramp. the guy at the wheel, I think it was Benny... One of the valets –who works the morning shift."
Lifting up the set of binoculars which hung around his neck, the older man tried to get a clear look at the driver, but it was hopeless. As Michael drove up the ramp after the black Cadillac CTS, Mr. Axe put a call through to the reception desk to get the names of the valets who were working the afternoon shift.
"Benny isn't working today; he shouldn't even be here," Sam announced as the younger man brought the Charger to a stop behind the parking spot where the young man had just pulled into with his borrowed ride.
"Hey, Mr. Axe," Benny called as he exited the Caddy. The tall skinny teenager glanced warily between the two men who were moving towards him. "I know I'm not down to work today, but Ray asked me to come in and -" He edged away from the vehicle and then took off running.
Exchanging glances, the former spy and former SEAL gave chase, the navy man soon getting left behind as Michael picked up his pace. They had sprinted down three ramps when Sam gave up the chase, as he was being left far behind by the younger men. Jogging slowly and peering through the gaps as he tried to keep track of his girlfriend's fleeing employee, he only heard the loud beep of a car horn and then the muffled bang of metal against flesh.
Mr Westen had been gaining on the youth when they had gone around one of the sharp bends and Benny had run straight into and then onto the hood of a white Honda Accord driven by another of the Chadwicks valets.
By the time his best friend had arrived on the scene, Michael had Benny in cuffs and sitting up against a wall and was explaining the situation to the other valet, who was understandably shaken up by knocking down a colleague and destroying the front end of a guest's car.
"Look, Mike, why don't you go on home? This is gonna take forever to sort out. The paperwork alone is gonna be a bitch."
"I can stay," Michael offered as he had a sudden flashback of the wooden spoon which had come flying at his head the previous evening when he made a comment about it being the third Vindaloo curry they'd had in the last week. "I don't mind."
"No, you've been out late every night. Go home, brother. Go give Fiona a surprise."
"Only if you're sure..."
"Jeez, Mike... If you want, I'll go and you can spend all night talking to Benny here."
The ex-operative took another look at the young man and then at the hood of the Honda. The insurance forms only were going to take a lifetime. "Okay, thanks, Sam, I'll owe you."
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Half an hour later, Mr Westen stood before the door to their apartment, his fingers paused over the keypad. He was going to be eternally grateful when their baby boy finally put in appearance and, just maybe, once his fiery tempered wife had given birth, things would improve on the home front. This was all completely new territory for them both and, regardless of the fact that they had been together unofficially for years, it all seemed to be happening too fast. Taking in a deep breath, he pressed down on the digits and let himself inside, ready to dodge a fist, foot, ornament or whatever else may come his way.
Pausing just inside the door, Michael cocked his head to the side as he took note of the dim lighting and the pleasant sound of soft jazz coming through the sound system. Wondering what had brought about the emotional one eighty from his wife's irritable waspish personality of this morning, he decided as he slipped out of his suit jacket that he would go with the flow and hope to get through the evening without doing anything to upset the present atmosphere of peace and tranquillity.
"Michael... You're home early." She walked towards him dressed in a pale pink silk kaftan with her loose hanging hair framing her face and a welcoming smile upon her lips.
"We caught the bad guy. It was one of the valets. Sam said he could deal with it... I just have to write up a report." He saw the smile flicker and a brief hint of a scowl start to form, so he quickly added, "But it can wait until tomorrow."
He knew he had given the right answer as she stretched up, her palms resting lightly on his chest to aid her balance while she placed a gentle kiss on his lower lip. "Good… now why don't you go and shower and then we can eat. I've made you your favorite, Tuna Tahini with a fresh salad."
Michael breathed an internal sigh of relief. He had smelled the Indian curry as soon as he had opened the door and appreciated deeply the fact that she had taken the time to make him something else in addition to her obsessive pursuit of that same hyper spicy cuisine.
Letting his hands settle on her waist, he returned her kiss slowly, letting it deepen as she attempted to get closer to him until he felt a firm kick from his son, asking for a bit of room. Smiling as they drew apart, he placed his hand over where their child lay and laughed as he felt another firm kick from his offspring.
"He's practising his ninja skills, so he can be just like his Mom."
She raised an eyebrow. "I think he is being stubborn just like his Da."
They just stood and stared, losing themselves in the moment, as their unborn baby continued to move under his father's hand.
"You should have a shower. Dinner is going to be ready soon," she murmured softly and took a step away.
A little bit dazed and confused by this tender, more gentle side of his wife, Michael nodded and gave her a soft peck on her cheek and then made his way to their bedroom and the en suite shower.
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As soon as Michael disappeared into the bedroom, Fiona went back into the kitchen to give her curry a stir. It had been a nuisance making separate meals. But after her husband's comment the other night, she had decided that just this once she would indulge his desire for something other than spicy, reputedly labor-inducing foods.
Her heart was fluttering at the thought of the night she had planned. It had been so long since they had done anything that even hinted at romance. In the beginning, they had been too wrapped up in finding the right home and then there had been the new business. They mostly worked for Elsa, who was fast becoming Sam's long term girlfriend, overseeing the security measures in all of the wealthy hotelier's long list of enterprises. But they also put aside some of the crazy amount of money she paid them to work the sort of cases they had done when they first arrived Miami, which had all meant by the end of the day it was all they could do to fall into bed to catch a few hours sleep before another day began.
Hearing the sound of the shower running, she smiled softly and for a moment thought of starting the party early by going to join him under the spray of hot water. She shook her head at the image of her trying to fit inside the compartment with him in her present condition. No, however alluring the idea of making love under a deluge of warm water might be, for now it just wasn't going to happen.
Looking down at bump, she stroked her hand over her now sleeping baby. We're going to have to decide on a name for you soon. She sighed.
Just thinking about his name reminded her of all the long conversations they had had after they'd discovered Baby Westen was going to be a boy. Michael had suggested her father's name, but she had pointed out there was already a Patrick in the latest generation of Glenannes, her brother Seamus' eldest son. Frank was a definite no, as were all the other family names they came up with for one reason or another. Michael had mentioned Thomas, which she had instantly shot down. Tom Card may have been her spouse's training officer and his first real father figure. But to her he would always be the man who pulled Michael out of Ireland and out of her life, and it would always remind her of her old enemy, O'Neill.
Sam was another suggestion. But, just like using his own name, Michael pointed out it could become confusing later on in life. He had then brought up Donald, as in Captain Don Novak. If Tom Card had been his first father figure, then US Army Ranger Captain Novak had been his first big brother. The man had encouraged him during ranger school and had later pulled him from a burning Jeep. She had requested Derry, a reminder of their first night together in the abandoned farmhouse which had once been the heart of the Glenanne family or McBride as a tribute to their love. And so it had continued, no one name being agreeable to them both…
She had become so lost in her thoughts that the first she knew of Michael's approach was when his arms circled her waist from behind and his lips caressed her shoulder with a kiss.
"Do you want some help?"
Leaning back into his embrace just for a moment, she revelled in his warmth. She really did miss this feeling of oneness as he gently rocked them side to side.
"I'll serve up, you get the water from the fridge and then come back here and I'll let you carry the plates out onto the balcony."
They took their time over the meal discussing the case Michael had just finished and then, after they pushed back the plates, she turned the conversation to her trip to the Overtown clinic and her ante natal appointment.
"Lauren mentioned a C-Section again."
Michael swallowed and ran his tongue over his lips before speaking. Leaning forward, he took hold of one of her hands linking their fingers. "I want you both to be safe. If Lauren thinks it's for the best... I think you -"
She shook her head, and he sighed. "Fi, I know you think it will leave you vulnerable, but I'll be here. We can talk to Dani about -"
"I am not having the CIA standing guard over our baby, Michael." She felt her temper beginning to bubble to the surface and did her best to quell the rising tide of frustration. Why couldn't he just for once really listen? Forcing a smile onto her face, she leaned in as close as she could. "Michael, I'll consider - other options, after we've exhausted every natural method." She ran the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. "I asked Lauren, and she said I'm healthy and there's no barriers to us trying, any – thing – we – want."
Untangling their fingers, the auburn haired temptress got to her feet and, as gracefully as any overdue pregnant lady could, walked around the table until she stood facing the father of her unborn child. Reaching out she cupped her palm against his freshly shaven cheek and lifted his gaze to hers.
His skin flushed under her touch as she looked deeply into his eyes, while her free hand worked loose the buttons down the front of her flowing gown. "It's been two months, Michael and, after he's born, it could be another six weeks." Her thumb trailed over the corner of his mouth. "I don't want to wait that long... Do you?" She released him and let the Kaftan slide down to pool around her bare feet.
"Fi…" Her name came out in a soft breath, his eyes never leaving her as she trailed a hand up over her rounded belly and between her breasts.
She had spent so many years doing things the other way around that the sight of his wife wearing a bra and no panties brought a sly smile to his face and a tightening in his jeans. The weight she had gained, particularly there, over the last few months had rounded her figure in a most enticing way.
"Let me help you get more comfortable," she murmured. Reaching out, she drew him up on to his feet, her fingers undoing the buttons of his short sleeved shirt.
Kissing her way over his toned, well defined torso as she helped him out of the soft cotton garment, her tongue swirling around his nipples before her sharp little teeth nipped one and then the other. She felt a rush of power as a groan slipped from between her lover's lips and his hands settled on her hips, holding her as close to him as possible.
Running the palms of her hands over his muscular back, reacquainting herself with the lines of his body, when he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his own, she surrendered to the kiss in an instant, parting her lips to allow his tongue to entwine with hers in a seductive dance.
As they kissed, his hands left her hips to capture the swell of her tender breasts and she nearly collapsed as her synapses fired off a pleasure/pain overload. She clung to him, thankful that she wore a maternity bra, for his touch was like both fire and ice even outside the lightly padded support.
"Fi?" he paused, looking down at her with such concern as she had never seen before.
"It's okay," she gulped. Her body was so hot, all she wanted was him, every inch of him, everywhere. Taking a deep breath, she tried to take back some control. "You have too many clothes on." She gave him a shaky smile and reached for the leather belt he wore with his pale blue pants.
"Fi…" He tilted his head, his blue eyes flickering as he studied her flushed and trembling frame. "I-"
"Just, maybe -" She took hold of his wrists and lowered his hands away from the tender flesh of her full breasts.
Before he could inquire further, she pulled him into the apartment and towards the bedroom with promises of all the things they could do. He smiled as he let her lead, but tugged on her hand as they approached the bed.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, worry starting to mar his features.
"I know you are," she replied knowingly, her hand slipping inside the denim and cotton barrier between them to cup his hardening member with a light grip. "So, take off your pants and I'll show you how sure I am."
A wicked grin, so reminiscence of the Fiona of old, spread across her face and she pushed him back as the last of his clothing lay on the floor. The bra soon joined other articles of clothing.
"Look, but don' touch," she admonished.
As Michael fell back onto the mattress, his wife proceeded to demonstrate all those things she had promised him, worshipping his body until he was almost completely undone. The soft touch of her hands, stroking over his skin, of nails scratching and warm wet lips trailing kisses over every inch of him was made all the more intense by the sight of his woman, heavy with his child, loving him.
When he knew he could take no more, her husband caught hold of his auburn haired lover, lying on her on her side before spooning up against her, trapping her against his body so that her back was snuggled tightly to his chest, his engorged manhood pressing into her bottom before moving it between her tight thighs. Lifting one leg slightly higher, he changed positions and then he was there.
Fiona let out a deep sigh of satisfaction as he slipped gently into her warm wet folds. Stroking so very slowly, he eased his way a tiny bit deeper with each light thrust, the feeling was indescribable.
This was so very different than every other time they had made love. Before the connection they had always felt was nothing compared what they were feeling now. He knew she was feeling it too. Michael's whole body trembled as he sheathed himself inside his wife, his arms holding her and the life growing inside her so close it was as if they were one complete whole.
When they came, the pleasure washed over and through them like a cool balmy breeze on a hot day sending shivered down their spines. Utter peace, followed by a contented rest swept over them both.
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Lying cradled in her husband's arms, their limbs entwined and her head resting over his heart, Fiona couldn't help but smile. Running her palm over her rounded belly, she felt it hardened under her hand and anticipation filled her with nervous excitement.
"Michael, are you awake?"
"Mmmm." A sleep laden hum was her only reply.
"Michael." She scraped her fingernails down his torso and her smile widened into a grin at the muted grumbling which issued from his throat. "Michael, I think it might've worked."
His eyes flew open and he shifted in the bed so he could see the outline of her face in the dark.
"It worked?"
"I don't know, feel." She placed his hand over her stomach and they waited.
And waited.
"Fi, I don't think – I mean -"
"Never mind," she answered tersely.
"You could start at any time." He kissed her ear and tried to coax her back into his arms. "It won't be long." He kissed her again and was pleased when she snuggled up against him. "It's bound to happen when you least expect it."
"Just like getting' punched then," she responded with a not so light blow to his ribs.
Coughing, he nodded. "Yeah, just like that."
When Michael woke up again, it was to find a cold spot where the figure of his auburn haired wife should have still been fast asleep. Yawning, he stretched and then rolled over to check the time on the alarm clock on his bedside table. It was early, not even six AM. Pulling back the covers, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and then stood up, retying the string on his pajama pants before going in search of his missing lover.
He found her on the balcony, staring out at the calm, flat, midnight blue ocean below, wearing one of his old shirts not quite buttoned all the way, her long hair tied back in a simple pony tail. Hearing his approach, she turned to face him and, even in the half light of early dawn, he could see the sadness in her eyes.
"Fi?"
She swallowed. "I really thought I was starting." She forced a half smile. "Like you said, any time now... You should get ready for work. Don't you have a report to write?"
"It's early..."
"Mmm... I'm going to get dressed and go for a walk. I think I may have strained my back last night."
Biting down on his bottom lip, he thought about following her, but then changed his mind. Last night had been… He smiled and felt a warm flush rush over his skin as he thought about the previous night. It had been special. He didn't want to tarnish the memory with a return to the cold front of recent he took up the spot vacated by his wife and waited until he heard her leave.
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"Don't take this the wrong way, brother, but I was hoping not to see you today." Sam looked up as Michael walked across the floor of the Chadwick Hotel's restaurant to join him and Elsa.
"Still no sign of the baby, Michael?" Elsa added with sympathy. "How's Fiona?"
"Fiona is, ah, getting impatient." He sat down at the round table, facing across from his best friend. "So, we're not handing Benny over to the police? You know, once the baby comes, I'm not gonna be around to help out, right?"
When he had finally checked his cell, he had found several messages from his business partner informing him that Elsa was going to deal with compensating the angry hotel guests while they dealt with Benny's evil con artist step father who was threatening the young man's mother if Benny didn't help supply him with vehicles he could use in his many nefarious business deals.
"It's okay, we have it covered, Mikey. Jesse is gonna come in on it with me. I just thought we could pick your brain for a plan."
At that moment, the tall broad shouldered young man in question sauntered into room, waving a greeting and Elsa got to her feet, kissing her Sammy on the cheek as he rose up at her side. "I'm going to leave you boys to your discussion. I have to go and see a man about new carpets for the junior suites."
The three men spent hours coming up with a plan to make absolutely sure Benny the valet's mother would never be bothered again by her bullying, conman husband. When Michael got a call from Fiona, he listened intently to what she was saying nodding his head in agreement and then closed his phone and stood still as if cut from stone.
"Mike? You look kinda – green. Anything wrong?" Jesse asked worriedly.
It appeared at first that the former spy had lost the power of speech and then he looked up. "That was Fi, her, ah, her water just broke..." His face broke into a wide smile. "I'm about to be a dad."
Jesse slapped him hard on the back, his own face lighting up at the news. "Hey, that's great, man."
"Mike, you need to get goin'. Now..." Sam gave his friend a not so gentle push towards the door, when the younger man made no effort to move. "You need one of us to drive you, brother?"
"No, no, I'm fine." Slowly the fog filling his brain began to lift and he was speeding out of the door, excitement adding wings to his feet as he sped down the street towards where he'd left the Charger.
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Fiona and Doctor Lauren Martinez turned towards the door to delivery room as it swung open and Michael burst through. "I got here as fast as I could... Have I missed anything?" he gasped, his eyes darting about at the unexpected calmness surrounding him.
"It'll be a while yet, Michael." Lauren smiled easily, well used to dealing with slightly panicked expectant fathers. "I've just put Fiona on a monitor for a while. It'll measure the strength of the contractions and let us keep a check on your baby's heartbeat. Why don't you sit down here?" She patted a spot on the edge of the mattress. "I think we'll be in for a long night."
Holding hands, they sat listening to the rapid heartbeat of their baby while staring at the squiggly lines on the monitor screen.
"So, it's finally happening." She sounded satisfied, but all he felt was scared at that moment.
Michael squeezed his wife's hand, brushing his thumb over the wedding band on her finger. The lines on the monitor suddenly rose up steeply zigzagged and then dropped back down to where they had been before.
"Is that normal?" He glanced at the door Lauren had gone through.
"That was a contraction," Fiona told him smugly. "They're not so bad... A bit uncomfortable, but nothing I can't handle.
Several hours later, once her labour had begun in earnest, Fiona was biting back on the urge to scream while crushing the hand of her husband and all the time wondering what on earth had made her so determined to have a natural birth. She could be unconscious right now instead of having her son rearrange her all her internal organs from the inside out.
After her long walk around the park, the nagging ache in her back had still been there. So she had had a long soak in the bath hoping that it would ease away this new annoying symptom of her overdue pregnancy.
She had planned to try to follow Doctor Lauren's advice and take things easy. But along with her back pain, she also had a strange restless urge. So she set about rearranging the kitchen cupboards and then settled down for an hour to sharpen every knife she could find, whether they were kitchen utensils or specialized weapons.
"Alright, Fiona, it's time. On the next contraction I want you to push as hard as you can." Lauren's words came just as the Irishwoman felt a tightening in her stomach walls and uterus far more intense than any of the ones that had come before. She bit her lip so hard, blood welled up there.
Just as the sun was rising on the thirty first of December, the loud wail of a healthy newborn filled the delivery room in the Overtown Clinic and to everybody in the room, it was the most beautiful sound ever. Fiona rested on the pillows piled up behind her head and back on the hospital bed, close to exhaustion, but unable to close her eyes and miss the sight of her son, cleaned up, measured and weighed, taking his very first suckle off her breast. Sitting on the edge of the bed, with his arm draped behind her, Michael sat with his eyes filled with moisture, tenderly pressing kisses to her sweat dampened head. He was almost positive he had a cracked knuckle, but that didn't matter.
"Michael, your mom and friends are in the waiting room. Do you want to take your son out to see them while we help Fiona get cleaned up?"
"Fi?" he questioned. In truth, he was unwilling to disturb his little family.
"Go show him off. Before your mom just storms the place," the new mother agreed wearily, letting her eyes drift close.
Wrapping his son up in a blanket and waiting while Lauren placed a tiny white hat over his son's mop of still damp black hair, the dark haired former spy's hands shook as he held the precious bundle against his chest. He had never wanted children, never ever expected to be a father. Even during the pregnancy, a little part of him had held back. But from the moment his child had come into the world, all his reserve had crumbled away.
As he walked slowly towards the side room where Lauren had said his mother and friends were waiting for him, he realized he would die to protect the tiny life sleeping in his arms. As soon as he stepped into the room, he was surrounded, his mom's blue eyes and reaching hands silently begging to be the first to hold the new Baby Westen.
"He's beautiful, Michael," she spoke in a soft tone filled with awe. "He looks just like you."
She peeked under the little hat to check out her grandchild's hair color.
"So have you come up with a name for your little hell raiser yet?" Sam peered over Madeline's shoulder to take his first look at his nephew.
"Jesse, is good name... Just putting it out there," Mr. Porter added from behind Madeline's other shoulder.
"Or Daniel." Agent Dani Pearce smiled warmly, her hand linked with Jesse's.
"We're still thinking about it." Michael interrupted the chat over names as his son opened his blue eyes and blinked at the bright lights of the waiting room. Carefully, taking his child back into his arms, he couldn't help losing himself for a moment in those unfocused dark blue orbs. "I should take him back to Fi," he announced, having decided they had been away for quite long enough.
Feeling sore, stiff and as if she could sleep for a week, Fiona shuffled over on the bed to make room for her husband to lie at her side. Handing her their child, Michael eased his arm behind her back so her head rested on his shoulder. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head and then her forehead.
"I never expected…"
"I know," she answered quietly. "Me neither."
"You said all you wanted your island in the sun," he reminded her with a beaming smile.
"Our little island just got bigger," Fiona sighed, unable to lift her gaze from the infant cradled in her arms.
"Yes," Michael murmured back, with only the barest hitch in his voice, as he reached out to caress the cheek of the perfect addition to their family. "Our perfect island in the sun."