A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews, PM's and favourite story adds. I really do appreciate all of your comments.
As always, huge thanks to the wonderful Purdy's Pal for reading through part of this
9
Fiona watched Michael as he tinkered with his mother's toaster at her kitchen table and yawned behind her hand. They'd had a busy morning so far and had already been furniture shopping for the new house, while running errands for Madeline who was conspicuously absent from her own home.
Leaning back on the sofa she made herself comfortable while she watched him work. She knew he was bored, even though he wouldn't admit it. He'd deliberately avoided answering his 'work' phone around her, instead choosing to take it out on the balcony or outside on the stairs ever since she had teased him about his 'other' woman..
"You know," she told him when he'd returned to their bed. "If I didn't know any better I'd swear you were having an affair!"
"What?" his eyes had grown wide with mortification and he'd promptly handed her his phone which she handed straight back.
"Don't be ridiculous Michael," she'd sighed. "I'm only kidding."
"Don't even joke about things like that Fi, I would never…"
"I know," she'd soothed and reached out to take the phone from his hands and threw it onto the bedside table before pulling him down onto the bed.
With a heavy sigh she reached down to place her hands over her stomach, tracing their daughter's movements with her fingers. Being almost thirty weeks pregnant she had ballooned out of her clothes and was starting to feel like an overstuffed turkey that was no use to anyone.
Now when Michael and Sam went out on a job they took Jesse, all of them insistent that she should enjoy the last few weeks of rest before the baby arrived. But she didn't want to be protected anymore, she wanted to be useful.
"Hey, Fi," Michael's voice drifted through her thoughts and she looked over at him questioningly. "Can you come give me a hand for a second?"
"What do you need my help for?" she asked irritably as she pushed herself off of the sofa awkwardly. "You need me to put on a plug or something? Are you sure it's not too dangerous for me?"
Michael stopped what he was doing and eyed her cautiously. "You're cranky."
"I'm not cranky," she huffed as she gestured to her swollen stomach. "I just want this to be over."
Placing the screwdriver back on the table he wiped his hands and met her half way to stop in front of her.
"Okay," he soothed, keeping his voice low. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she groused. "I'm just…I'm…"
Stepping closer he slipped his arms around her as far as he could and pulled her loosely against him.
"It's okay, Fi."
"No it isn't," she moaned miserably into his chest. "I can't even get my arms around you anymore."
Michael closed his eyes and smiled before pressing a soft kiss into her hair. She had been less emotional lately, instead her moods flared from being deliriously happy to downright irritated by the slightest thing. He wasn't sure which one he preferred, because either way she was like a ticking time bomb and she wasn't the only one looking forward to the end of this pregnancy.
"Only a few more weeks," he soothed as he rubbed her shoulders. "It'll pass before we know it."
"That's easy for you to say," she groaned into his chest. "You don't look like you've swallowed ten water melons!" Pulling back she held onto his hands and fixed him with a fierce gaze. "I can't even see my feet anymore…" her voice trailed off when she remembered the hideous flat footwear she now had to wear and sighed, "…but that's good I guess."
Michael knew he had to word his answer carefully. He knew the wrong words, no matter how supportive he thought they were could come back to blow up in his face. He'd fought all kinds of foes, had guns pointed at him, been blown up and shot at, but right now he would welcome any one of those distractions. All kinds of scenarios played out inside his head before he came up with the only word he could think of.
"Why?"
Fiona's small frame stilled and she stopped moving. Michael held his breath and swallowed hard. This was the part he always hated and he waited for the explosion that he was sure to come, but to his immense surprise it didn't.
Fiona looked up at him and caught the worry in his eyes. Her lips turned up into a wide smile and she stepped up closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Thank you," she beamed as she released his hands to move towards the counter where he'd left the discarded toaster.
Michael let out the breath he'd been holding and was more confused than ever. What had just happened? Shaking his head he turned back towards her and studied her closely. He loved her more than he could ever put into words, but sometimes she confused the hell out of him.
"So, what did you need my help with?" she asked him when she poked around the toaster with her fingers. "Why doesn't your mom just buy a new one?"
"Why?" he sighed heavily as he came to stand beside her and put on his best mother impression. "Because I've had that toaster since 1975, Michael!"
Fiona chuckled softly and laid her hands over his, stilling his movements. "I think it's time to bury the toaster."
"Have you met my mother?" he shook his head as he tried to hide his smile.
"I'll tell her," Fiona laughed as she leaned into his side. "She won't hurt a pregnant woman!"
"No, she'll just hurt me!"
"Oh poor baby," Fiona looked up at him sympathetically. "You know she—"
Michael stopped what he was doing when she gasped in a sharp breath and pressed her hand to her lower abdomen. The colour drained from his face when he met her gaze, instant panic soaring through him.
"Fi," he asked quickly, reaching out to rub his hands over her shoulders as he nervously looked for any signs of distress. "Do you need to sit down?"
Letting out a long breath she stood up straighter again and shook her head. "It's okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Michael I'm fine," she told him as she reached out to pat his hand on her arm. "Remember the doctor told us about fake labour pains on our last visit?"
Michael tried frantically to remember everything about their last doctor's visit, but before he could even try and pretend he knew what she was talking about, she shook her head and pulled away.
"That's right, you won't remember," she told him coolly. "You had to take a phone call at the time because they couldn't possibly wait another ten minutes until after my examination had finished."
Michael visibly gulped and cursed inwardly at the inconvenient times that his contacts with the CIA chose to call. Sometimes he was sure they had the loft bugged just to cause him endless waves of trouble.
"Fi…it's not like they know about this…" he started, gesturing towards her swollen belly.
"Are you sure about that?" she huffed. "They keep calling you away when we have important appointments scheduled."
"Fi…"
"It doesn't matter," she sighed and dropped her eyes to the ancient toaster that was laying in pieces on the table. "The main thing is, the pains are normal. They're going to get stronger the closer I get to my due date."
"I'm going to be here, Fi," he told her softly, knowing that her main fear was going through this alone. "I won't let them keep me away."
"How can you be sure?" she asked miserably. "They've already ruined so much for us. They're dangling your old job in front of you and they know you'll do anything to get it back."
"That's not true, Fi," he told her solemnly when his fingers skimmed her shoulders. "This," he slid a hand down to her stomach. "You and her are the reason I'm doing all of this. I want her to have as normal a life as possible."
"And she will," Fiona sighed, leaning in to him. "You just have to stop treating me like I'm going to break, and just be honest with me. I know you want to work with the government again—"
"Shouldn't you be resting or something?" he asked helplessly, wishing for some kind of distraction. "You didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
Fiona's eyes shot to his, her previous annoyance completely forgotten. "I couldn't get comfortable. It doesn't matter which way I try to lay I have this weighing me down," gesturing to her engorged belly and shook her head in disgust. "…Whoever said pregnancy is a wonderful thing needs shooting!"
"It doesn't last forever, right…and when it's all over you'll agree with the 'wonderful' thing," he tried to soothe her until she gave him a murderous glance that told him he should quit talking right now. Stepping towards her he took her hand and grabbed his keys off of the side. "Let's get out of here."
"But your mom's—" she started, her hands gesturing to the metal casualty on the table.
"You said it yourself Fi, it's time to bury it. We'll face the consequences later," he told her as he pulled her out of the house and towards the charger. Opening the door he held onto her hand, guiding her inside before running around to the drivers side.
"Where are we going?" she asked cautiously when he backed out of his mother's drive way.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked her. "Name the place…anywhere…"
"Anywhere?" she laughed at his infectious grin and shook her head. "Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"
"I'm serious," he grinned, casting her a brief look before returning his eyes to the road.
"Okay, if you're serious, take me home," she smiled. "Turn off all the phones, lock the door and we'll order take out. Just for once can it just be the two of us?"
Michael couldn't help the ecstatic grin he directed her way when she reached across the seat to lay her hand over his jean-clad thigh. He dropped his hand down to cover hers as he drove then back towards the loft, feeling complete and utter contentment floating through his body.
"Maybe tomorrow we should put the cot together," she suggested with a tired yawn. "Just to see what it looks like in the baby's room."
"If that's what you want Fi," he told her, nodding his head in agreement.
Panic suddenly shuddered inside his chest with the prospect of erecting the wooden cot. They had been moving the pieces of it from one part of the baby's room to the other while he and Sam decorated the walls with pink flowery stencils that Fiona thought looked like hand grenades.
"My mom thinks we should spend as much time together as we can before she's born," he told her, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. When she didn't answer he chanced a brief glance in her direction. Her eyes were closed and her free hand was resting over her swollen stomach. In that one moment Michael thought he had never seen her looking more beautiful.
He knew he had changed over the last five years; being with her was changing him every day. He'd constantly tried to remember his life before he was burned. How his life had been one long dangerous adventure that left him strangely satisfied, but knowing what he had now, he realised that all of those feelings of satisfaction from his past were nothing compared to this. He enjoyed his life here with Fiona and despite what she thought, he didn't want any job to take him away for long periods of time.
When they got back to the loft, Michael jumped out of the charger to open the gates before coming back to guide the car through. Turning off the engine he took a few moments to gaze over at the sleeping woman beside him. There were so many feelings running through him every time he looked at her and he'd lost count how many times he had thanked whoever was listening for bringing her into his life.
Feeling the cars movement's cease, Fiona took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes. She blinked at the bright light filtering through the car windows and brought her hands up to her face to shield her from the sunlight.
"Hey," Michael's voice brought her eyes to his and she offered him an apologetic smile.
"Sorry," she yawned and laid her head further back into the leather seat. "I don't remember anything after we left your mom's."
"It's okay…You feel better?" he asked with a warm smile as he reached out his hand to thread his fingers through hers.
"I do," she nodded with a tired smile.
Her eyes drifted over towards the loft and the tatty white paintwork that was peeling off of the walls. She was going to miss this place, even though it was worn down and in such a decrepit state, this was home to both of them.
"Are you ready to go up?" he asked her, his voice breaking through her thoughts.
Fiona tore her eyes away from the loft and nodded her head before opening the charger door to climb out. He was around to her side in seconds, helping her get out of the car. It was times like these when she felt so useless. She had gone from a woman with boundless energy who could take any man on and win, to this. She sighed as she allowed him to help her up before he guided her towards the stairs.
"I can make it up the stairs on my own, Michael," she told him tetchily when she started to climb the stairs and pulled her keys out of her bag.
Michael let it go. He knew she was feeling like a loose wheel that wasn't any use to anyone, something he'd tried continuously to convince her she wasn't. He'd been on the receiving end of these mood swings enough to know that she would switch to the softer side before he could make it up the stairs.
Locking the gates he followed her up the stairs and waited for her to comment further but instead she opened the door and turned to face him before they went inside.
"I'm really going to miss this place."
Michael nodded in agreement and stepped up behind her to trace his fingers over her bare arms. "Yeah, we've been through a lot here."
Fiona leaned back against his chest and inclined her head so that she could look up at him. "Are you ready to leave here?"
"It's time to leave," he told her quietly. "And we're not really saying goodbye to this place."
"I know," she smiled again and moved off of him to take his hand in hers, manoeuvring them into the loft. Once they were inside she released his hand and turned to him when he closed the door.
"It's kinda sad though, leaving such a big part of us behind."
Michael regarded her thoughtfully before he leaned forward to place both of his hands on her shoulders.
"What's brought all this on? I thought you wanted to leave here."
"I did…I do…" leaning forward she held her forehead against his and sighed heavily before pulling away again. "I don't know what I'm saying…I've just been feeling so…strange I guess…everything is changing."
"You always told me that change was a good thing," he told her as he moved a little closer to her to lay his hands over her stomach, spreading his fingers. "And this is a good thing."
The baby moved beneath his hands and kicked against his palm. It didn't matter how many times Michael had felt their daughter's small movements, it never ceased to amaze him how he could possibly love someone so much when he hadn't even met them yet.
"She's a lucky girl," Fiona covered his hands with her own and squeezed his fingers before breaking into a wide smile. "But we're both hungry and you promised to feed us!"
"Okay, okay," he laughed as he removed his hands and moved towards the kitchen where they kept all of the take out menu's they hardly ever used. Taking them out of the cupboard he spread them over the counter and looked at them thoughtfully.
Fiona watched him as he studied the coloured leaflets. He was in such deep concentration that she couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. "Michael, you're looking for food, not planning some deep cover operation."
"Hmm?" he mumbled when he looked up at her questioningly. "I was trying to decide."
"This baby will be a year old before you decide what to eat," stepping towards him she looked down at the small arrangement of menus and instantly pushed two aside. "Cuban gives me heartburn and pizza…urgh…"
"Okay," he sighed. "You pick one."
"You know what I could really eat right now?" she asked him quickly, her eyes bright when she turned to him. "My mother's Irish stew…do you remember that first night in Ireland when you stayed over and she kept feeding you?"
Michael watched her face light up with the mention of home and part of him ached for something he couldn't give her. He remembered that night too well, and he remembered how Fiona's mother told him he was far too scrawny and needed meat on his bones.
"We had to fake a job just to make her stop filling my bowl," he grinned. "Yeah, I remember…"
Reaching out her hand she curled her fingers around his arm and leaned into his side. "And that night you kept looking at my bedroom door…" laughter escaped from her lips when she nudged him playfully. "You were convinced she was going to barge in on us…"
"She was terrifying," he retorted, chuckling with the memory.
"She's five foot two," she laughed.
"She may have been small but I saw her take Patrick out with a frying pan," he told her with a grimacing smile as he remembered how Fiona's older brother had buckled before the tiny woman. "She made my mother look like an amateur!"
"She's fierce," Fiona nodded, grinning wildly. "Do you remember the morning she found you sneaking out of my room…Your face...I've seen you put all kinds of acts for your covers, but I've never seen you truly terrified before, not since that day anyway!"
"I thought she was going to shoot me," he shuddered when the memory hit him full force, bringing with it a bittersweet happiness. Turning towards her he moved his fingers up to her face and pushed her hair away from her eyes. "I always wondered why she didn't."
Fiona leaned her face into his hand and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she sighed happily as she met his gaze.
"She loved you."
"She loathed me!"
"That was after you left in the middle of the night," she corrected him. "She was angry because you hurt me… she told me later that she thought we would always stay together…"
"Well, we are still together," he grinned.
"Yeah, now…but we weren't for a long time." Fiona's smile slipped from her face as she regarded him thoughtfully. "Why did you keep me as your emergency contact after all the awful things we did to each other?"
"Fi—"
"I didn't believe your explanation then Michael, what makes you think I'd believe it now?" Standing back from his she fixed him with her steady gaze and waited until he lifted his eyes to meet hers.
Shrugging his shoulders he dropped his eyes back down to the menus feigning ignorance before he sighed softly and averted his eyes when he spoke.
"I didn't want to let you go…not back then," his soft admission caused her to gasp and he instantly lifted his gaze to meet hers. "You were the closest I'd ever been to a real relationship Fi, I..."
Fiona's eyes softened and she stepped towards him to place a soft kiss onto his lips. When she stepped away from him she couldn't stop the warm blush that crept up over her cheeks. She had loved this man for most of her life regardless whether he'd wanted her to or not. Now he'd admitted to her that he'd always felt the same way, everything they'd put each other through suddenly became worth it.
"I'm glad you kept me in your wallet," she told him with a warm smile, then patted his cheek with her hand before stepping away. "I'll have the Chinese, nothing too spicy…and can you pick up some rocky road…"
Michael watched her as she turned away from him to head off towards the bathroom. They had been apart for so many years, but what he hadn't told her was that there had never been anyone else in all that time. No one had ever been able to compare to her.
"Okay," he called out when she'd disappeared into the bathroom. He could just hear Sam's voice in his head telling him that he was under the thumb, and so whipped but he shook it away. "Did you want anything else while I'm out?"
"Yeah, you need more Yogurt," she stuck her head around the bathroom door. "Sam ate your last blueberry."
Michael shook his head when she disappeared back into the bathroom. Life was pretty good right now he decided as he left the loft, unable to wipe the smile from his face.
tbc