WHO WE ONCE WERE

A/N: First of all thank you for the reviews for this series of short stories, I'm sorry I don't get the time to send out personal replies that often.

Secondly this is the story based about the memory Michael used to hold back the flashbacks in Raindrops. It is set in the time before Fiona knew he was an American Spy.

And thirdly I want to send out special thanks to my good friends Jedi Skysinger and Amanda Hawthorn who have read thru all the draft versions before I completed the whole thing. Also another thanks to Jedi Skysinger for finding the time to BETA for me.

Derry, February 98

On the road to Derry.

The Glenanne family's old Land Rover Defender was one of the bane's of Fiona's existence. Though not quite as bad as the Series 2 Land Rover that Sean favored for transporting weapons, it was still noisy, uncomfortable and slow and there was always a damp musty smell, which got worse when you turned the heater on.

It's only good features were the heavy vehicle had bullet proof panels and bullet resistant glass in the windows and, to deal with all the extra weight, the suspension had been upgraded, which all in all made it an ideal vehicle to transport heavy or vast supplies of weaponry around the Irish countryside.

Looking over to the driver of the vehicle, she felt a warm glow in her heart, which as she continued to stare spread lower, heating her core and turning her legs to jelly. Sean was supposed to be accompanying her on this gun deal. But he'd had prior commitments, so she had convinced him, against his better judgement, to let her take Michael McBride with her instead.

She tried to conceal the wicked smile which desperately wanted to break free. This was to be their first time alone, truly alone, without one of her brothers in shouting distance and she had made plans.

The job had come to Sean through Patrick Keenan, one of the shot callers in the newly formed Real IRA. The group had broken away from the Provo a few months earlier and had big plans for lots of violence and destroying the on-going peace process.

She had been only too happy when approached by the Provisional IRA Executive Council to go undercover and cause this new group as much trouble as she could. After all she had been through in the last five years all she wanted was a chance of peace for her homeland.

Keenan wanted her to drive to Derry and take delivery of a stockpile of new guns, rocket launchers and ammunition for the RIRA's first big campaign. She was to drive up to Derry, meet with Brendon Callum, who ran a deep sea fishing fleet from Derry Harbor, and he would take her to the arms dealer making the sale.

Once they identified who was selling guns to the Real IRA, they were to complete the deal and drive away. Then her brother Liam would send some men over to treat the arms dealer to a "Provo party" while she aged the firing pins in the weapons to encourage them to fail before handing them over to the radical breakaway organization.

The only problem with the arrangement was that Michael McBride sympathized with the Real IRA cause. He hadn't joined up with the group yet, but he was skirting around the edges and was always eager to offer his assistance to any bit of mischief that came his way.

"I'm pretty sure I kin trust him," she thought as she looked over at him again, biting down on her lower lip. "Yes, I'm almost positive if he found out whot wa' goin' on, he would stand by me side." She felt guilty about lying to him about where her loyalties lay, but until she could be sure about him, she couldn't risk telling him the truth.

"Ya see sommit ya like?" McBride risked taking his eyes off the icy road long enough to smirk in her direction.

God help me, but I love thot smart ass smile.

"I see a cocky Kilkenny cat who should be keepin' his eyes on tha road," she retorted, punching his arm lightly. "Ya best put yar foot down, McBride. War supposed ta be in Derry befer four."

"Four? I thought tha meetin' was set fer ten?" The smirk was gone now replaced by a frown.

"Oh, Jaysus, wha' am I gonna do if he says he don't wanta stay wid me?" Gulping, she prepared herself for the worst... "Men didn't like forward women; they like ta be tha ones who made all tha running." But between her brothers' glares and silent threats of bodily harm and McBride's own strange sense of honor, she was going die an old maid if she didn't take matters into her own hands.

"Fi?" he questioned again, but his eyes were back on the road.

"Tha meetin' is set fer ten PM, but it's set fer ten on Thursday."

The Defender slowed and he turned to look at her and then back at the road, his eyes going wide as he worked out what she was saying.

"It's Tuesday," he spoke flatly and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "Wha' -?"

"I booked us a room at tha Brayside Inn. it's on tha road ta Derry... I thought, I mean, we..." she floundered.

"It's a lovely thought, Fiona," he answered softly. Taking one hand off the wheel, he stroked the back of his hand over her cheek. "Two whole nights alone?" he grinned.

"Two long nights an' tha days, too," she grinned back. "We don't have ta clear out til four on Thursday afternoon... I paid extra ta book out late."

His hand went from her cheek to cradle the back of her head and she found herself drawn closer until he could kiss her. "Jaysus, wha' would I do wit' out ya, ya darlin' girl? Ya thought o' everythin', haven't ya?"

"Ya dinnae mind me making tha bookin'?"

"Whot's thar ta mind, girl?" He grinned again and she noted the slight flush to his cheeks before she sat back in her own seat with a wide grin on her own lips.

Sean had come straight to her when he'd been told of their first assignment for the fledging radical group. They were to pick up a big supply of weapons which would be the mainstay of the organizations armoury.

As soon as he had sat down facing her over their mother's kitchen table, she had seen that he was torn between duty to the Cause and his family duties. Rosanna's parents were over from England to see their fourteen month old granddaughter and, besides that, Rosanna was pregnant with their second child and the baby, a boy this time, was due in the next couple of weeks.

"I'm gonna have ta tell 'em sommit," he had growled as their mother had placed a mug of tea in front of him before silently leaving the room. "Oh, I know they'll understand, but..."

"But, yer scared Maura Flanagan will buy out tha whole stock fram Mothercare again if yer not thar to stop her," she'd reminded her brother. Shortly after the birth of his first child, Rosanna's mother had arrived and proceeded to buy up nearly every baby item in the Belfast branch of the popular baby shop.

Sean had chuckled ruefully at the memory of his mother-in-law and her "nothing's too good for her grandbabies" attitude.

"Why don' I take Michael wit' me?" she'd asked innocently.

"McBride? Ar' ya sure, Sis? I mean, wha' d'we know abou' him?"

"He spends most o' his evenings sat in yar living room an' when he's not thar, he's down at tha pub, playin' darts."

Sean had stared at her, his fierce blue eyes fixed on her face. "Ya like him, dontcha?"

She'd nodded and he'd smiled back. "Ya be careful wit' him... I swear if ya make me regret this, I'll kill him an' I'll tell Liam thot ya refuse ta listen ta a word I said."

"So, yer alright wit' Michael takin' yar place?"

"Aye, just, ya know, be careful."

As soon as Sean had left to drive back to his own home, she had rushed to check that her mother was still busy out in the laundry room and had then grabbed up the telephone book to search for suitable hotels near Derry.

Thinking about what was to come, Fiona turned her attention back to the man at her side. He was concentrating solely on driving now. The roads were becoming more treacherous as the snow fall became heavier by the minute. She found her eyes gravitating to the outline of his slightly furrowed brow, the scaring about his eye and the fullness of his bottom lip.

It was while she was staring at his mouth that she saw his lips move as he uttered a curse and the heavy vehicle began to slow.

Glancing out of the windshield, she peered along the dark expanse of road and in the distance spotted the pinprick flashing orange dots of hazard warning lights on the cars ahead. Her heart sunk. If there had been an accident on the road to the north, it could mean they would be stuck for hours and they weren't even half way to Derry.

"We should turn around," Michael muttered. "Give -"

"Turn off." She nudged his arm and pointed to a lane on the left hand side of the road. "Follow thot lane ta tha end an' then take a right." Looking out of the window, she had realized where they were. This was fate she was sure of it. She wasn't ready to give up on their quiet break away together. It just wouldn't be at a hotel with central heating and clean sheets on the bed.

"Wa're not goin' ta get far on these back roads." He gave her a questioning look as he did as she bid and then pulled over to put the Defender into four wheel drive before setting off again.

"It's not far, jus' a coupla miles... Ya wa' boastin' ya could drive anythin' anywhere last night. Ya lost yar bottle, Michael McBride?" she taunted him.

Only the night before he had been boasting about his driving prowess, how he had escaped from the police in a high speed chase through London during an armed robbery gone wrong.

"No," he denied he'd lost his nerve and the Defender picked up speed, only for him to slow again as they nearly took out a stone wall when the wheels of the 4x4 slipped on an icy turn in the road.

In the dark on the slippery, narrow, unlit lanes which were fast becoming covered with a thick layer of snow, she directed him to a place she hadn't visited for years. As they came to a stop in a ramshackle farmyard, her heart skipped a beat. Before he could question her about the place, she jumped out and made her way to the front door of the stone built farmhouse.

This had been home. She'd spent the first nine years of her life here playing out among the chickens and ducks and in the spring spending whole nights out in the large barn, watching as the sheep lambed and helping to feed the babies which were too weak or neglected to feed themselves. Pushing open the heavy door, she stepped inside and in the darkness she didn't see all the neglect, dirt and cobwebs or the cracks in the walls and the rumble strewn across the floor.

She saw a big fire blazing in the fireplace and an old patterned rug in front of the hearth. To the left of the fire was a wooden rocking chair where her mammy sat in the evenings with her knitting bag on the floor containing great big balls of wool and the sound of her knitting needles clacking away, a constant background noise behind the sound of her brothers squabbling and fighting and her Da sat around the kitchen table with his comrades plotting their next campaign.

A wide bright beam from a flash light broke through her reverie and she stared into the light at the man who stood in the door way. She smiled wistfully at the questioning look he was sending her as he took in the cold dark ruin which had once been a loving home.

"We'll stay har til tha mornin'," she told him firmly. "Thar's a farm a bit further along tha lane. It belongs ta a cousin; we'll call thar tomorra."

"Why not go straight thar now?" he asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Cuz I wan' ta show ya this place." She turned away to run her hand over the dust and dirt covered oak beam which had once been the mantle-piece. When this had been their home, the beam had been kept polished to a high sheen and photographs and knick knacks had adorned the wide shelf.

"This wa' our home befer me daddy wa' taken. We lived har til I wa' nine years old. Then Pat Junior said we'd be better off livin' in tha city," she told him, speaking more to herself than him. She pointed to the spot next to the fire. "Me Mammy hadda rocking chair right here by tha fire...After havin' a bath, me and Claire used ta sit in front o' tha fire ta dry our hair and she would brush out tha tangles."

She gasped as he suddenly stepped to her side, his hand reaching up to stroke her cheek. His expression showed his disappointment at her choice of lodging for the night. "Fiona, tha place is a -"

"Come wid me." She took him by the hand and together they explored the ground floor before she took him to the rickety staircase which they climbed cautiously, pausing at every creaking groan on the way up.

In what had been her parents bedroom, she stood by the rotted window frame and pointed out into the darkness.

"I wa' four or five at tha time. Mammy stood at this window an' fired on tha policemen tha had come fer me Da and Pat Junior. Mammy said it ware sommit about somebody blowin' a hole in tha side o' tha Ulster Bank in Lurgan. Anyway, she held 'em out thar, not lettin' them get outta tha car til me daddy and brother got away. Mammy had Colin hide tha shotgun in tha attic, befer tha policemen broke tha door down. When they couldnae find tha gun, they ransacked the house." She smiled as she wandered around the room, remembering better days. "One o' them broke me favorite doll, so I sank me teeth inta his ankle. It took me Mammy an' Seamus ta get me off him."

"Fi, I think we should be goin' if ya -" She stopped his words with a kiss, surprising herself at the passion she threw into it, her mouth claiming his as her fingers tangled in his long, dark hair.

When the kiss ended, they were both a little out of breath. Her legs trembled as she boldly pressed her body against his, forcing him back until his shoulders hit the bedroom wall. The feel of his hard muscular body yielding to her demands caused her heart to leap and her stomach to clench as butterflies took flight in her belly.

His large hands reached up and his strong supple fingers combed her hair back from her face. "Fiona, if Sean finds out war not in Derry, or wherever ya tol' him we'd be -"

He wa' concerned abou' being here alone wit' her. She thought it was sweet that he was worried about what Sean, or more likely Liam, would say or do. But this sort of thing had been happening since she had hit puberty and it was was becoming tiresome.

Any boy or man who showed the faintest bit of interest in her had to get past all of her brothers first. Liam was the worse of the bunch. Her eldest surviving sibling had a way about him. He never shouted or blustered but, especially in those early years, he had sent several young suitors back home in tears just by staring at them.

"This is why I dinnae tell ya abou' tha hotel befer. I knew me brudders would ruin it fer us. Sean doesn't know whar we are tonight... If he's thinking abou' us at all, he'll be thinkin' I'm at home wit' our Mam, an' yer in yar pokey little bedsit." She leaned in again, her teeth inches from his chin. "Now, stop wonderin' wha' me family is getting' up ta, an' start thinkin' about wha' we can get up ta... all...on...our...own." Her hands wriggled their way under his jumper and undershirt to the bare skin of his torso.

He stared at her a little wide eyed as he worked out what exactly she was offering. Then he smiled and she watched the doubt slide away. His hands glided down from her face along her arms until they reached the hem of her thick cable knit jumper.

"So thot's why ya wan' ta say here is it, luv? I was beginnin' ta wonder if ya ever went anywhere alone." She gasped as his hands slipped under her top and settled on her waist, his fingers splaying out so his thumbs rubbed on the underwire of her bra. He looked around again, staring out of the window at the fluffy white snowflakes which were falling heavier by the minute. "We could make a run fer tha main road an' try ta get -"

"I want ta stay here wit' ya." She looked up at him, staring into his blue eyes and willing him to understand how much this meant to her. "This place, I know it's a ruin, but it wa' me home."

Finally with a long sigh, he nodded in agreement. "Okay, jus' fer ya. We'll stay har."

"Thank ya..." She smiled and pushed him away. "I'll go get tha tarp and tha blankets fram tha car... Ya find us some fire wood and' try ta make it cozy. Thar's a pile o' old newspapers in tha kitchen. I saw 'em earlier. They'll make good kindling."

She went out to the Land Rover and sorted through all the junk that had been left in the back until she found a large folded sheet of blue tarpaulin and four old woollen blankets. When she went back inside, she saw Michael hadn't wasted any time. He had cleared the area in front of the fire place and arranged the few bits of old broken furniture to make walls to their little den.

"Ya've been busy," she commented, gesturing to the start of what promised to be a roaring fire.

"Ah used ta be a boy scout," he answered as he took the tarp and spread it over the hard concrete floor.

"A boy scout?" She snorted, shaking out the blankets and, after placing two on the tarp for them to sit on she dropped to the floor with the others in a pile next to her. "I jus' cannae see ya in tha uniform."

"Me ma thought it would keep me outta trouble." He dropped down next to her, holding his hands out to warm them in front of the blazing fire he had built a few minutes earlier.

"Oh, I think ya wa' born ta cause trouble, Michael McBride. I kin see it in yar eyes." She half turned and was instantly in his arms.

They tumbled backwards with her ending up above him, laying half on top of him, her hands urgently journeying from his tangled mop of dark hair, to his lightly stubble covered cheeks and across the expanse of his chest. It had been months, many many months, since she had been completely alone with any man who wasn't a kinsman and she had been waiting for an opportunity like this since shortly after meeting Mr. McBride.

The stranger from Kilkenny and parts further south was an enigma to her, but he was definitely masculine. Their make out sessions had left her in no doubt about that. But he frequently deferred to her requests and appeared to value her opinion when she gave it. He had even, much to Sean's disgust, cooked a meal for them all and he also allowed her to drive his car when there was nothing wrong with his own arms or legs. Armand had always treated her as a valued associate in business, but only Michael McBride truly treated her as an equal.

His hands were interlinked with hers, stilling their exploration. "Wha's yar rush, luv? We have all night, an' tha fire is jus' startin' ta warm up tha room."

Then, moving slowly, he let go of her hands and eased her arms out of her thick padded jacket. "Tha's better, but still not right."

She leant forward and nipped at his kissed bruised bottom lip. While he cradled her in his arms, his hands slid round to cup her buttocks, lifting her up until she was fully on top of him. She could feel his growing passion as their hips aligned and she rocked against him, reveling in the soft growl that spilled from his lips.

They kissed, their tongues locked in a dance, as their actions became more ardent and all the while she writhed on top of him, her mind lost in delicious pleasure. Then, as his hand palmed her left breast, squeezing the soft pliant flesh hidden beneath a jumper and a lace bra, she froze like a rabbit caught in the beam of a poacher's lamp. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest as all of a sudden the moment became very real.

What they were doing now was nothing they hadn't done on Sean's couch, while her brother was out with his wife. But now she was completely alone with him and nobody knew where she was or who she was with.

What if he wasn't what or who thought she thought he was? What if he was rough or wanted to do something she didn't? Would he -? She was all too aware what some men were capable of and she wasn't foolish enough to think she would be able to fight off somebody as strong as Michael McBride if he decided to force himself on her.

His hand moved away, reaching up to tuck a few stray tendrils of hair behind her ear. His eyes searched her face as his thumb brushed over her lips.

"Fiona?" he questioned softly, his voice a little hoarse.

"I- it's..." She bit down on her bottom lip. "It's been a while..." She told him a half truth, nobody outside her family knew what had occurred at her graduation party when she had been targeted by a piece of UDF loyalist scum.

He looked up at her with an expression akin to worship. "Me too, luv... Let's take it slow, huh?"

The kiss that followed was soft and teasing, his hands slid under her jumper to gently ghost up along her spine. She wasn't used to this sort of tenderness and, from the way he was shaking, neither was he. The kiss lingered until she felt the clasp on her bra spring free. For a moment, she stiffened and instantly he stopped moving.

"Here, sweetheart..." He shifted so she lay on the blanket with him at her side, his palm resting flat on her stomach. "Ya need ta relax." He kissed her again, softly and slowly, as his hands skimmed over her torso.

She let him remove her jumper and her bra and lay before him, watching his face as he stared in awe at her body. "Yer beautiful, a truly beautiful thing." His fingers lightly traced their way from the flat plane of her belly over her ribs to circle first one raised nipple and then the other.

She was entranced as his tongue flickered out to wet his lips before he lowered his head to kiss each pink bud in turn. The touch of his mouth on her sensitive mounds sent a flood of warmth straight to her core and she let out a long moan, as her hands reached to cradle his head, holding him in place as he mouthed and sucked on her flesh.

He lavished her breasts, neck, ears and lips with so much attention, the rest of her body ached in jealousy. She yearned for him, to feel his bare skin against hers, to see him fully. Her hands could bear it no longer and of their own accord pulled his jumper and and under shirt off in one go.

She had seen him bare chested before, but this... Gazing up, she let her eyes wander over his lean muscular frame and the sites of old scars, some of which he had told her about, others he claimed were a secret until another day.

Her mouth watered as he removed the belt from his jeans and popped the steel button on the waistband undone before lowering himself back down beside her. His lips brushing her cheek before returning to worship her lips.

She let her hands glide over his chest and torso, reacquainting herself with the lines of his muscles. It was just like he had said, they had all night and there was no possibility of any interruptions. As her confidence grew, her hand went lower until it dipped inside his jeans and rubbed over his engorged length.

With a deep shuddering sigh, Michael wriggled his jeans down over his hips along with his green boxers. Taking her hand, he placed it around his manhood and closed his eyes.

"D'ya like thot?" she whispered in his ear, as her hand closed around him, her thumb pressing over his tip. "I really am a lucky girl, though I told ya thot once befer, did I not?"

He gave a strangled moan and bucked up in her hand, his own hands feverishly working on loosening her jeans, until his fingers found the edge of her lace thong and slid into her moist center.

She wasn't sure how long they took, touching each other in their most intimate places, before they ended up completely naked in front of the roaring fire. Time meant nothing to her. All she was aware of was the love being lavished upon her body as Michael took his time to explore every inch of her. She had never felt like this before, or been treated this way. His lips, mouth, teeth and tongue devoured her while his hands readied each part of her body as if it was the next course in a banquet.

When he finally slid inside her, it was so perfect. She was already floating on a sea of ecstasy. His thrusts went deep, long and deliciously slow and all the while he continued to tease the shell of her ear and her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin, driving her wild in every possible way. Gradually, he began to move harder and faster, their breathes synchronized as they toppled over the edge together.

Opening her eyes, she was suddenly very aware of him looming over her, his weight pinning her down, their bodies still joined together, his breath tickling her neck. He slowly raised his head and then took some of his weight onto his elbows; his face still a mask of post-coital bliss. When he looked at her, really looked at her, his eyes shining bright and an almost giddy smile had spread across his lips.

"Ar' ya happy? Did I make ya happy, then?" This had been different than anything she had experienced before. She felt a deep connection to him and she was unsure what to do about it.

"Yes, luv, ya did," he agreed passionately. "Ya made me happier than I've ever been in me entire life."

And she knew somehow that he meant it with utter sincerity. She lifted her hands from where they pressed on his chest, as if to push him away, letting them curl over his shoulders and then comb through his hair until they fell slack above her head. She was for the first time leaving herself unguarded, surrendering herself to him completely.

She was obviously doing something very right as she felt him begin to stiffen and grow inside her. He lowered his face so his lips could lay tender kisses over her forehead, and hairline. It wasn't long before she could take no more of laying placidly. She wanted him, every inch of him, and with that she raised her arms to hold him tight as he drew deeper into her warm, welcoming depths. In what seemed like no time at all and yet somehow a blissful forever, they were tumbling into ecstasy again with exhaustion not far away. They fell asleep naked, wrapped in each others' arms with their legs entwined.

Some time in the early morning, she woke shivering as the fire died out. Trying to free her limbs without waking him, she reached for the blankets which had slipped from their bodies.

As soon as she moved, he woke. His hand which lay on her waist tightened against her to stop her leaving. "Whar ar' ya off ta?"

"Nowhere, am cold,"

He rose up then, covering her body with his, his elbows coming down near her shoulders, his lips tenderly kissing her neck and face, making her writhe underneath him as he quickly hardened against her.

"Yer beautiful, d'ya know thot?" He told her and she smiled up at him. Stretching her arms over her head, she let them go slack and relaxed under him, while his body and his manhood became anything but relaxed.

"An' ya have tha' gift o' tha gab. I bet yar mammy held ya upside down ta kiss tha blarney stone as soon as ya learned ta talk." Feeling wicked, she lifted her legs hooking her ankles around his ass and drew him into her again.

God help me, I cannae get enough of him, she thought, sighing at the feeling of fullness. She wasn't sure what is was about Michael McBride, but how they were now, alone and with him buried deep inside of her, she wanted to stay there forever.

Overwhelmed with happiness, she stiffened under him and then ,with a sudden surge of strength, she flipped him off and landed on top of him, grinning like a Cheshire cat at his look of confusion.

"If yer gonna be doing tha driving ta Derry, through all tha snow, it's only fair I do me share now."

She shifted again and sheathed him in her warmth. Leaning forward, her hands rested on his shoulders, her long red gold hair hung like a curtain about them. As she moved, rocking back and forth, her breasts hung before his mouth, an open invitation to him. Her spontaneity shocked him; she could see it on written on his features, a look of wide eyed wonder, before she yelped as he flipped her onto her back again. His mouth closed over hers to stop any complaint she might think to utter.

"I don' mind driving, luv." he growled playfully into her ear.

What followed, as they tumbled across the floor making love as they fought a mock battle, left them both sweating, panting and grinning like a pair of idiots. It only ended when they crashed into the faux fort Michael had constructed around them last night, scattering the assortment of broken wood and causing them both to laugh aloud.

Later, once they had recovered, they got dressed. But even then their eyes constantly flickered to each other. She found herself reaching for him when he moved more than a couple of steps away from her side and she was sure he kept finding excuses for his fingertips to brush against her skin or play with her hair.

Outside, the snow was thick and crunchy under foot, but the old Defender trundled through it all without trouble. As McBride drove, Fiona's hand rested on his thigh, feeling the warmth emanating through his jeans. The gun deal for the RIRA was far from her thoughts. All she had in mind for her future was a hotel room with a king size bed.

"Let's not bother me, cousin. Let's head straight fer Derry instead," she told him with a grin.

"And thot hotel room," he smiled back as the Defender turned onto the main road and picked up speed.