A/N: A quick... okay I'll be honest... a longish word about the dates used in this and other stories connected to the time line used here. Those of you who have seen S7.02 now know the year which Michael and Fiona met in the story canon was given as 2001.
However, in WWOW, and the other stories of both mine, Jedi Skysinger's and Jedi's Pal which share the same back story for our favorite couple, these have already been set in another time line previously developed using the limited information available from the shows earlier seasons.
We chose the very end of '97 through '98 with Michael leaving in '99. We came to this conclusion mostly from the clues found in the S2 episode 15 called Sins of Omission. Samantha Keyes, Michael's former fiancé, informs Michael that her son Charlie is nine years old. She does this in the hope that Michael will believe the boy is his son and help her rescue Charlie from the clutches of Tyler Brennen.
Michael tells Fiona he worked with Samantha in '97 and things moved quickly. He later left Samantha because, he said, he couldn't marry her when he loved somebody else.
Season 1 starts Dec 2007 (it's Christmas time) and Season 2 picks up where S1 ended in Summer of 2008. So if Michael believes Charlie is nine, he must have last slept with Samantha in 1999 depending which month Ep15 was set. He also tells Madeline that Samantha hasn't been in his life in a decade.
So that means sometime between the job in '97 when he met and got in engaged to Samantha and 1999 at the latest when he left her, Michael met and fell in love with Fiona Glenanne.
With all this in mind, 1997-1999 makes perfect sense for Michael being in Ireland, as the US government was involved during this time period in helping to negotiate the peace process and it was also the time the Real IRA appeared as a viable threat. Giving ample reason for an American spy to be working with the British Intelligence services MI5/MI6.
As these dates run through and connect many of our stories we have chosen to keep to this particular time line rather than the canon date on the show.
Now where were we?
WHO WE ONCE WERE
Belfast, March 1998.
The Sunday before Mother's Day.
When Fiona Glenanne yawned, stretched and then rolled over onto her side, she found herself staring into the deep blue eyes of her lover. She swore every time Michael McBride looked at her the way he was right that second, she lost a little bit more of her heart to him.
"Hey..." His voice sounded rough and still husky from sleep.
She smiled softly back at him and stroked the palm of her hand over his bristle covered cheek as he inched closer to her, one of his legs teasing her own legs apart.
"I have ta get up soon," she murmured, shifting her hips slightly and then stilled as he moved his leg so her already moist center was riding against his thigh. The friction sent out a wave of pure bliss and she made no effort to stop the moan of pleasure which was released from her partially opened lips.
Ever since they had moved their relationship on to the next level, it seemed like they couldn't keep their hands off each other; it was as if they were both possessed. It didn't matter where they were, or come to that, what they were doing. A stray brush of fingertips against clothing or skin and all other thoughts flew out of the window. For the last week now, they had barely left her flat and, when they did go out, it wasn't long before the urge to return became nearly overwhelming.
"So, ya'll be late, ya can tell 'em ya got held up." His lips were on her neck, licking and sucking along her throat, while his fingers glided up and down her back, drawing her even closer.
"Michael... I – I have – ta get up. Me Mammy -" She wriggled and weakly pushed him away in a half hearted attempt to break free. But her body was already responding to his touch. God, I cannae get enough o' this man. Her fingers curled and gripped his hair as his kisses trailed lower.
"Let's leave yar Mammy outta dis, luv," he mumbled into her chest, just before his mouth engulfed her right breast, sucking on her soft pliant mound, his tongue flicking over her nipple.
Her moans and gasps of pleasure grew louder and she arched into his touch, her hips grinding down onto his leg while her fingers scraped over his head, holding him to her, and all the while a warmth was spreading through her lower body. Then, just as she thought she could take no more, his mouth was gone. But only as far as her other breast, as he lavished the same attention there, his stubble covered cheeks rubbing against her sensitive flesh and adding to the euphoria which was whiting out all thoughts of leaving the bed and her man.
She writhed under him as he settled his body between her legs, forcing them further a part with his thighs. She could feel the tip of his manhood pressing lightly against where she ached for him to be.
"Easy, luv." He ceased moving, his hot breath softly cooling her ravaged breasts. "Ya wan' me ta stop?" He rocked his hips against hers, teasing her with a hint of what was to come.
Letting out a soft moan of frustration, she brought her legs up and wrapped them tightly around his waist, capturing him in a vice like grip. "Ya try stoppin' now, Michael McBride, an' I'll knock ya inta next week... ahhhh, ya lovely, lovely man." Slowly, inch by inch, he slid inside her, filling her up until they were as close as could be.
"Don't go," he pleaded softly. "They won't miss ya, not this once." He pinned her to the bed, dropping enough of his weight onto her to trap her beneath him while keeping up the slow gentle thrusts, as if determined to delay her as long as possible. "We can spend all day har."
"Achhh, ya don' know me family very well, do ya McBride? Ya wan' Sean or, mebbe Liam, ta come knockin' our door down cuz I dinnae turn up fer Sunday dinner?"
He paused and the look on his face made her chuckle before turning to a gasp as he began to move faster, driving into her. She reached up, pulling his head down so she could claim his lips. "I'll – be – back - t'night, we'll - have - all night. Whatever ya - want."
She pressed her mouth tightly against his, their teeth clashing together and their tongues entwined, as she held him as close to her as she could. Tightening the grip of her thighs about his waist, she lifted her hips to alter the angle and, all of a sudden, they were both there, tumbling together into a sea of pleasure totally out of control. His name fell from her lips in cries of ecstasy as her sweet relief finally came, a mere second before he joined her.
Collapsing down on top of her, he peppered her face and neck with hundreds of butterfly soft kisses, declaring her to be the most wonderful and beautiful woman he had ever known.
Ten minutes later, she reluctantly left the warmth of his arms to prepare for her day, padding naked across the bedroom to the bathroom. Then she turned the taps on in the shower and waited for the water to warm up.
Less then a minute after she stepped under the cascading water of her shower, she heard the sound of creaking floorboards, letting her know Michael was on his way to join her.
This was fast becoming a ritual they shared. Without uttering a sound, she made room for him to join her in the small narrow bath tub. Then, with his body pressed up behind her, he reached around to take the shower gel out of her hand.
Slowly, he applied the gel, his hands gliding over her body and massaging the fragrant liquid to every inch of her. Then, as the soap was washed away by the water, he set about washing her hair, the feel of his fingers against her scalp releasing all her tension and worries.
With the shampoo washed away, he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over her neck and along her clavicle, laying down gossamer kisses until he made his way back to the shell of her ear.
"Thar's still time ta change yar mind," he breathed the words huskily into her ear.
"I can't."
She sighed and sagged back against him as his hand slid across her belly and settled between legs, his long fingers seeking out her still sensitive core.
"Are ya sure I cannae convince ya?" The tone in his voice and long fingers circling and rubbing over her clit reduced her legs to rubber.
She was overtaken by her orgasm before she could answer. Her head falling back onto his shoulder and only his hold around her waist keeping her on her feet, he relentless kept going until with a ragged scream she could take no more.
Gasping and shaking, she turned in his arms, desperate to keep full contact with him. Oh Jayzuz, he'sgonna be the death o' me.
She clung onto him, her arms about his neck as he lifted her up and then climbed out of the bath.
This was utterly crazy. In the last month, they had spent more time wrapped in each others arms than out trying to stop the Real IRAs campaign of terror. Only a week ago, Sean had warned her the executive council was getting angry with her behavior. McBride was an unknown. He still hadn't presented himself to any of the council members and he was still spouting hardcore republican sentiments out in public, which suited her cover as an operative disenchanted with the peace process, but it was making the army's council members nervous.
She had a few concerns of her own. But when she was in Michael McBride's arms, all those niggling doubts slipped away. He had been happy about collecting the guns for the Real IRA during their trip to Derry. But he had been less than happy when he realized the plan was to sabotage the weapons before handing them over. Then, when he had found out what Liam had done to the arms dealer who had sold the weapons to the rival terrorist group, he had gone off on his own for a whole day and refused to tell her where he had been.
There was a small nagging fear that he was playing her for a fool, that he was Real IRA and he was using her for his own dark purposes. But those small fears always fled as soon as she looked into his clear blue eyes.
She was distracted from her thoughts by the the rough towel he was using to dry her off and the kisses he was laying over each piece of her he dried.
Oh, how she loved this man. He was everything she had ever wanted. She was positive he could never betray her. She turned in his arms and let her fingers walk over the smooth hard muscles of his chest. Strong and kind hearted. She kissed first one nipple and then the other, smiling as he squirmed when her lips went lower. He knew how to use his fists, she had seen him in a pub brawl more than once, and she had seen him shoot a handgun. Her hands ran down his spine and over the curve of his firm buttocks. She had yet to see him with a sniper rifle, but he definitely had the right delicate touch to work a trigger.
She pushed him back and he obediently sank down onto the bathroom floor, his long strong fingers wrapped in her damp hair. She lay kisses everywhere other than where he desperately wanted them, his hips bucking in frustration. She couldn't get enough of this gorgeous man and it was obvious he felt the same. She wet her lips and ever so slowly lapped the juices leaking from his tip while her hands skimmed the underside of his thighs.
They shared similar interests, he had read the same books she had and his opinions on many things matched hers perfectly. He had even taken her to visit the Giants Causeway, a place she had longed to go, but previously had never had the time. She drew him in with her lips until she could take in no more, his masculine scent surrounding her senses. His fingers tugging at her hair as he urged her onwards, gasping out her name as if it was a prayer.
Her tongue swirled around his length and her hands cupped his balls as they tightened, squeezing gently as his body began to shake. She sucked on him until she could feel him at the back of her throat. When he came hard, she drank him down, licking him clean before moving upwards to hold him in her arms, soothing him while his body shook with post orgasmic bliss. She smiled to herself over the power she had over such a powerful man.
"I have ta get ready now, 'am already late." Reluctantly, she disentangled their limbs and got to her feet, having to pull her wrist out of his grasp as he tried to delay her further.
He stayed on the floor, propped up against the side of the bath, his blue eyes sparkling as he watched her through half open lids as she got dressed and dried her hair.
"I'll be back this evening." She leaned down to kiss his forehead, nose and lips. "We'll stay in an' have some fun, I promise."
Reaching the front door, she turned and saw he was climbing back into their bed, now dressed in a pair of boxers, his hair still wet from the shower spiked up and in disarray. She would eat her meal, help tidy away and then get back as quickly as she could.
()()()()()()
It was dark when Fiona finally made it back to her home, the day at her mother's house was still fresh in her mind. Sitting in her car, she stared up at though the soft drizzling rain, which had been falling for the last hour, to the light still showing in her Belfast flat window. Michael was there, waiting for her to return. Biting down on her lower lip, she slipped out of the vehicle and made her way through the shadows to the staircase leading to the upper floors.
The day had started so well. She smiled fondly at the thought of how well her day had started. Even the two hour drive from Belfast to Dublin hadn't managed to wipe the smile from her face. But by two pm that afternoon, she had been wishing she had never left home and had stayed in bed with Michael McBride.
It was a tradition, never to be broken, the same thing each and every Sunday without fail. The whole Glenanne family descended on her mother's home, on the outskirts of a village less than a mile from Dublin City, for a full Sunday dinner with all the trimmings. As long as you were somewhere on the Emerald Isle, you were expected to attend.
She remembered the warmth of her mother's kitchen, and the smell of a whole shoulder of lamb roasting in the large oven. She had spent ages standing in her mother's kitchen peeling potatoes while her mammy whisked a large bowl of batter to make batter puddings and her sister in law Isabelle kept a close eye on all the pots on the stove as well as watching over her growing brood, some of which were for once playing quietly under the large wooden kitchen table.
From the living room next door came the loud voices of three of her brothers, Liam, Seamus and Colin, raised in discussion regarding the Irish football match taking place on the large TVscreen in the corner of the room.
While the women were expected to prepare and serve the meal, the menfolk were left to their own devices, which usually meant they would watch whatever sporting event was happening on the box before disappearing down to the local village pub, only to return in time to sit down to a roast dinner.
While not fond of waiting on her siblings hand and foot, Fiona did enjoy the private time spent with her mother and her brother's wives: Seamus's dark haired, green eyed Isabelle was coolly practical and capable of running a houseful of children, five at present though she had just informed the family she was three months pregnant with their sixth, and Sean's young bride, Rosanna, who this particular week was away on holiday with her husband and two children, was a sweet and dreamy girl much like Claire had been. Or that was what most people thought, but in reality the girl had a hard streak a mile wide. Sean was proud of telling the tale of how his demur little wife had taken on two local women who had accused her of being an English whore. When Rosanna was finally pulled off one of the women, she had a large handful of the woman's hair wrapped in her fingers, and she had left the other one unconscious on the floor.
Fiona knew for a fact that in their own homes both Isabelle and Rosanna made sure their husbands did their fair share of around their respective houses. But in Maeve's home, the women did the housework, cooked meals and looked after the children while the men went about their own business.
But Fiona didn't mind. It didn't bother her any more how old fashioned and traditional her mother's views were because it was during the Sunday ritual that she could pretend for a short while to be just an ordinary girl and not a woman who had seen more death and destruction in her short life than most men did in a whole lifetime.
In the two years after her sister's death, Fiona's feelings about family, and her family in particular, had changed. So, for a short while, she got to imagine what it might be like if she found the right man, and to have children of her own running around her feet the way Isabelle's boys did all the time.
She knew it was a foolish dream. There were few men who were willing to play second in a relationship to a family such as hers. Liam's reputation was enough to send most men running in the opposite direction. Those that weren't put off by her brothers' interference rarely lived up to expectations and were soon gone. That is until Michael McBride... She smiled to herself. He got on well with Sean, which in itself was a first. Sean out of all her brothers was usually the first to find fault with her boyfriends.
At the time, she hadn't thought much of it when her mother had spoken with a knowing smile on her lips. "Ya look happy, Fiona. Have ya anyt'in' ta tell us?" the matriarch had singsonged.
The slam of the door being flung open and Isabelle's three oldest charging into the room had stopped the conversation before she'd had a chance to answer.
"Patrick, why don'cha take Dara an' Brendan outside an' kick a ball around fer a bit." Isabelle had caught hold of her eldest boy by the shoulder as the eleven year old had gone to run by her.
"Da sent me ta tell ya thar off down tha pub. They'll be back in an hour." The boy had spoken breathlessly before he had taken off after his younger siblings, chasing the twin nine year old's out of the back door and into the courtyard behind the house.
Seamus' offspring wreaked havoc wherever they went. Along with the three who were now chasing and fighting with each other outside, under the table there was seven year old Margaret, or Maggie as she was called, and four year Milo who had played quietly, except for their occasional forays to steal any treats they could reach from the table top.
But none of those pleasant memories were the cause of her trepidation as she slowly climbed the narrow concrete steps leading to where Michael waited for her. No what had her heart beating faster was her fear of what he was going to say to her when she gave him her news.
Thinking back on it as she trudged up the stairs, she'd been a fool. Like any good guerilla incursion, the attack had come while her guard was down.
It had started at the dinner table. The children were all gathered together, sitting off to one side of the dining room at a smaller table, while the adults sat around the large oak table in the center of the room. During a lull in the conversation, Liam had fixed his pale grey-blue eyes on her and asked in his blunt manner.
"So, who is dis fella yer dating?"
She had frozen under the gaze of the whole family as they all waited expectantly for her reply. All except Liam, who having asked the question, had returned to tucking into his meal. She had looked from face to face, one look at Colin's wide-eyed, far too innocent expression and she knew she was in trouble.
"His name is Michael an' his jus' a friend," she had coolly replied, hoping that that was going to be the end of the questioning, but knowing deep down it was only the start.
"So, when are we goin' ta meet ham?" Came the next calm, reasonable sounding request.
"I said, he's jus' a friend. Ya don' have ta meet ham at all." Her heart had started thudding in her chest as she had wondered exactly how much they all knew about the way she had been carrying on over the last three weeks. She had sworn Sean to secrecy regarding the status of her relationship with their mutual acquaintance.
"I hear tell his name is Michael McBride, he's fram Kilkenny an' he's been sleepin' in yar bed most nights o' tha week," Liam had answered her unvoiced question.
Another glance at Colin and she knew who had been rummaging through her private life. Oh, one day am gonna ram thot computer of his up his arse had been the uncharitable thought running through her mind at the time.
"Tha's none o' yar business, Liam," she had snapped in reply, before looking at all the disapproving faces. "It's none o' any of yars business who I invite inta me bed. Am a grown woman. I kin do wha' I like."
Colin was an excellent hacker. If there was something Liam needed to find out and the information was on a computer, Colin would find it. But who had told him to go looking? At that moment, she could have quite cheerfully had punched Sean's lights out if he had been there. Her favorite sibling had been the only one who knew who was sharing her bed.
But now, having had time to think about it, she knew it could have just as easily have been one of the Provo council complaining to the head of the Glenanne clan that their operative, who was supposed to be working to bring down the Real IRA, was now dating one of their supporters.
"It tis me business when ya put tha family at risk. Who is he? Wha's his affiliations? Have ya had him checked out? Ya put yar trust in tha wrong one, girl, an' we could all be fer it. Ya wan' ta see us all banged up or worse cos ya've fallen fer a pretty face?"
And that had only been the start. For after listening to her children argue back and forth for twenty minutes, their mother had put an end to it all.
"Liam, leave tha poor girl alone wit' all yar questions. And Fiona, sweetheart, why dontcha bring yar special friend ta Sunday dinner next week?" Her mother had smiled sweetly. "After all tis Mudder's day and I hear tell tha poor man's got no family har. It'll give us all a chance ta meet ham."
And the trap had sprung closed on her. How could she refuse? Colin had already researched her boyfriend. Now they all knew he had no family living in Ireland. There was no reason for him not to visit with his girlfriend's mother and present himself to the head of the family; it was after all the right thing to do.
She was at her front door now. She had no choice but to go inside and tell Michael he was expected to accompany her the following week. In addition, as it was Mother's Day, they would travel on the Saturday and stay overnight so she could be there to make her Mammy's breakfast before they would all go into Dublin to eat dinner in one of the best restaurants in the city.
Taking a deep breath, she plastered a smile on her face and stepped through the door.
When she stepped into the flat and closed the door, he hadn't spoken to her. Instead he welcomed her back with a long deep kiss, filled with affection and want. His fingers danced over the fastenings of her coat until he could pull the heavy bulky article away from her body and down her arms before dropping it on to the floor. All the while, he was using his extra height and weight to guide her back through the living room and into the bedroom.
She went with him, letting him control the moment while his mouth never broke contact with her. He ravaged her with kisses, nipping at her when she tried to draw away long enough to catch her breath, his tongue swirling in her mouth laying claim to her stealing her words, trapping them in her throat.
When the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she began to fall, she sensed it was time to turn the tables. Her rebellious spirit had had enough of playing nice. With a twist of her hips and a tight hold on the front of his dark blue plaid shirt, she managed to use her momentum to pull him off balance and off his feet. McBride landed heavily on his back, with Fiona sitting stride him.
"Whot's all this?" she asked, the light of battle in her eyes.
"I thought I'd surprise ya... Ya said ya liked surprises," he replied with a twinkle in his eye and what could only be described as a lascivious grin on his lips.
"Aye, thot I did." She rocked against him, smiling as she felt him harden beneath her. "I'm glad ta know ya listen ta whot I say."
His large hands came up to cup her cheeks and he drew her face down towards him. "I remember every word ya say." He sucked on her bottom lip, as he drew her into another kiss.
Even though he was prone underneath her, she could feel his power, in each deep ragged breath he drew into his body and in the rough palms of his hands as they tenderly cradled her head. His tongue stroked over her now swollen bottom lip and all of a sudden she felt they were both over dressed.
Nimble fingers which could pick any pocket or manipulate any lock found the gaps in the front of his shirt and then with a flex of her wiry muscles, the tiny buttons flew off in all directions. He gasped and stiffened as she tugged and pulled at his under shirt in an effort to find bare skin.
She had an overwhelming need to take control and she let out a soft throaty growl as her finger nails scraped over is bare torso.
Within seconds, they were rolling around and eventually off the bed and onto the floor. Clothes were torn, ripped away and then discarded where they fell. In the end, she was triumphant, sitting on top, riding him hard with her head thrown back as they rocketed into heaven and beyond.
Afterwards, collapsing forward into his arms as he held her tightly against his body, she could feel him still inside her and she smiled into his chest. This was exactly where she should have been all day.
It was several hours later, while they were curled up around one another in bed, her head resting against his shoulder, that she finally told him about her Sunday.
"Me Mammy has invited ya ter join us all next Sunday," she announced quietly.
The fingers which had been idly drawing circles on her arm stilled and then she felt a soft kiss on the top of her head. "Ya can t'ank har kindly fer tha offer, but I cannae make it... I have a few t'ings ta do thot day."
Turning so she could look up at him, she walked her fingers over his chest. "I don' think it wa' a request. Me family wants ta meet tha man I'm spendin' so much o' me time wit'."
For a second, he froze. If she hadn't been watching him so closely, she would have missed it. But before she could comment, he relaxed and smiled warmly. "Aye? Well den, I'd love ta have Sunday dinner wit' yar whole family."
He had been so attentive to her needs that night, she'd ended up falling into such a deep sleep that she overslept in the morning by a whole two hours. She also missed the sight of her lover carefully sliding silently out of their bed at first light. She even slept through him gathering up his clothes and ten minutes later stealing out of the front door.
When she had finally woken and managed to force her aching body out of the warmth of the bed, she discovered he had gone out without leaving so much as a note.
()()()()()()
It was two days, two whole days, before she heard from him and then it was only a brief phone call asking her to meet him at the train station. He had promised if she came that he would explain why he had left so suddenly without a word.
Sitting in the small dingy cafe next to the railway station, staring into each others eyes over cups made of cardboard and filled with hot steaming tea, he explained how all the talk of families had freaked him out.
"I've lost me whole family, Fiona. Me Da, and me brudder... I –. And then me mum... I dinnae see har before she died. So, ya talkin' abou' Mudder's Day and all, I jus'...It's like I said ta ya before, families thar not me t'ing... I jus' needed ta go away fer a bit. I'm sorry I ran off like thot."
It wasn't much in the way of an apology, but she accepted it nevertheless and they left the cafe hand in hand, heading off for a night out under the bright lights of Belfast city center.
As they drank and danced the night away, she sensed a change in him, a reticence as if he was trying to create a space between them. Clinging to each other as the last song played in the nightclub, she gently massaged the tense muscles in the back of his neck.
"Whot's wrong?" she asked.
"Nuttin' s wrong, luv... I jus' think we should slow down abit. Thot's all." He went on to inform her with a forlorn expression that he was going to walk her home and then go back to his own bedsit for the night. He thought they both needed a little space.
For the next few days, they met up, but he refused to come back to her flat. When they were together, he spent most of his time trying to get her talk about her family. She was beginning to think he was preparing to break off the relationship when, as they sat on a park bench watching a group of teenagers kick a ball about on the grass, it suddenly came to her, a revelation out of the blue. All the questions about her family, she knew what it meant. He was nervous about making the trip south and having to face the whole Glenanne clan.
"Is it me brudders thot have ya so scared? Ya know Sean, an' if ya kin cope wit' his smart ass mouth, ya kin cope wit' tha rest o' tham." On the other hand, the mere mention of Liam's name had been known to bring men to tears. She suddenly felt sorry for him. She half turned and saw the look in his eyes. "Oh, c'mon I cannae believe ya've never met a girl's family befer," she scoffed, trying to break through his taciturnity.
It was then she saw the first crack in his confident exterior. "I warn't tha type o' lad thot tha lasses took home ta meet thar parents," he admitted with quiet sincerity.
"So ya war a bad lad, huh?"she replied, her hand sliding up his thigh, disappearing under the edge of his coat. "Are ya tellin' me yer a bad man, Michael McBride?" she singsonged.
"Worse than ya t'ink, lass," came his cryptic reply.
And that night, he returned to her bed.