On his way to the mall, Michael places another call. "Sam, can you get me a number?"
"Sure brother, what do you need?" Sam must be having himself a drink Michael figures as he hears a clink of a bottle being set down. Michael relays the information he wants. He thanks Sam and hangs up as he parks the car.
He steps out and straightens his jacket, happy, feeling he's making some ground on his quest to get his house in order, metaphorically speaking. If there was one thing Michael Westen is great at its planning. Planning allows him to figure things out, complete seemingly impossible tasks, stay alive.
He walks determinedly with a purpose through the crowd of shoppers. Being a spy, you become a people watcher by trade. In the span of a couple of minutes Michael deduces he's headed in the right direction based upon the increasing number of stroller riddled shoppers and sounds of high pitched crying.
He pushes through the door to the baby store to escape the incessant wails. The door chimes as he steps inside and he quickly assesses his surroundings. His eyes are assaulted by vibrant color which seemed to seep into his being. He glances down at his grey suit as he pulls his sunglasses off, sliding them into his inner coat pocket.
The grey makes him stand out but he realizes that he would have stood out anyway being a man in a sea of women and a whirl of children ranging from toddlers to the yet to be born.
He feels the urge to back peddling out of the store as he the chill of panic sets in. It had accompanied the rising knowledge of how much it's going to take to raise a child.
A sales assistant lithely comes to stand beside him. She greets him warmly with a smile and a quick wit, "First timer, eh?" He gives her a pleasant smile, turning on his charm but still wondering if he was truly that easy to read.
"Yes," he replies and resists the urge to roll his eyes as her face lights up in excitement but instead lets her lead him over to a section of the store that seemed to be dedicated to newborns.
"Do you have anything in particular in mind?" Did he? Well no, not really, he hadn't actually thought this far, being inexperienced in this area he didn't know what to expect and he was growing more uncomfortable by the second. He decides to let this overly excited sales woman help him.
"I'm looking for a gift for my… wife. We don't know yet if it's going to be a boy or a girl." He swiftly tells her not having to try hard to play the part of a nervously shy soon to be father.
The sales lady looks delighted and quickly moves around pointing out different collections of outfits. She stops and holds up two outfits one in each hand and asks him what he thinks. He scratches his head and inspects the tiny outfits. He shrugs, "Maybe something a little simpler."
"Ah, here we go," she croons gliding over to show Michael several sets of onsies. She looks over them quickly before snatching one pack up, "Here, try these."
At that moment his cell phone begins ringing and he looks at her apologetically as he excuses himself pulling the cell phone out of his jacket. He thanks the sales associate as she laid out the best the store had on display for him, and then leaves giving him privacy as he takes the call.
He hesitates a second as he sees who's calling. Cursing under his breath he flips open his phone answering the call.
"Hi Fi, how was your nap?" Michael greets in a mock cheery tone. He had been hoping she would have slept longer and that he would have been back before she woke and her being none the wiser.
"Michael. Why is my luggage in your loft? I'm not staying here." Fiona quickly informs him as she sees her luggage lined up against the wall.
"I know Fi," he says carefully and realizes a part of him had wanted her to stay and he finds himself disappointed that she's not.
"I just put them there so I could drive your car without looking like a traveling tourist. And I thought you might–" want fresh clothes he finishes in his head mentally as she interrupts him.
"You took my car?" She sounds annoyed apparently she didn't wake up in a pleasant mood either.
"The Charger needs some… detailing," he amends knowing overly curious ears are listening in on his conversation as he feels someone watching him.
"You know I shoot thieves," Fiona warns crouching down and knocking over her suitcase so she can open it.
The smile slides off Michael's face as he hears the sound of a zipper being unzipped followed by a gun being cocked. He knew he should have checked her baggage for weapons. Now he'd have to be extra careful when he sees her, she's armed and hormonal. However, both were his fault so he can't blame anyone but himself if she shoots him the next time he comes home. Home, did he really think of the sorry excuse for a place to stay as a home? Or is his home something less cold and barren a person, Fiona. The thought throws him for a second and a longing to be closer to her pushes him to the question spilling from his lips.
"I was thinking we could go out to lunch later if you'd like?" He asks pleasantly, easily changing the subject.
A distinct click is heard and he pulls the phone away from his ear and he looks at it. She had hung up on him. He sighs, well so much for that idea.
Fiona holds her cell phone in her hand. She hadn't meant to hang on him, not really anyway. She just couldn't figure him out much less her feelings towards him. When she had awoken to see her belongings in his place she had panicked. Did he think she should move in with him? In this place? No. She wasn't ready for that that domesticated life, that wasn't them.
She absentmindedly digs through her suit case pulling out a clean outfit. What's a girl to do? He hadn't asked for this. She hadn't even asked for this. But it wasn't an entirely unpleasant situation at least not for her. She had always wanted a baby. She just never imagined actually getting one, not in her line of work, lifestyle or taste in men.
Michael had told her he wanted this baby but did he mean it? Did he really know? Was he just saying those things to her to appease her? It's not like he hasn't done it before. She doesn't know what to think as she slides out of her clothes leaving a trail leading to the bathroom. A hot shower will help to clear her head.
He snaps the phone close and replaces it in his pocket turning slowly to get a look at his watcher. His gaze locks onto not one but two young women who he has caught unabashedly eyeing him. He grins softly, a faint blush coloring his face and creeping down his neck as he turns back around and ponders which tiny outfit to buy.
Giving his best fake smile to the curious onlookers he grabs a set of onesies finally making up his mind. He tactically maneuvers around strollers and round hangers full of children's clothing on his way to check out.
He slows down in front of a wire storage bin full of stuffed animals. He picks out a cuddly looking alligator and heads for the checkout counter but makes another detour.
He glances at the titles of the books, most seemed to be children's stories. He picks one up, it's thick and is filled front to back with classic bedtime stories. He tucks it under his arm. He walks to the other side and a book catches his eye. He grabs this one too and finally comes to stand before the cashier.
He smiles, showing his teeth as he lays down the merchandise. He pauses for a second before holding up a finger telling the cashier to wait a moment. "One second," he tells her and quickly rushes back to the bookshelf and pulls off a second copy of the same book.
"Okay, I'm ready," he says setting it down. The cashier scans the barcode on the book and smiles reading the title, it read What To Expect When Expecting. No surprise, he wanted to know what he was in store for. He needed some study materials.