"Bye, Charlie. We love you. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" said Fiona, kissing Charlie on the cheek and getting a slobbery kiss/lick in return.

"Bye bye, Charlie," Michael called from the bathroom, because even bad ass super spies get stuck in the bathroom sometimes. "Have fun with Uncle Sam and Elsa."

And with that, Charlie and Sam headed out to either the best or the worst slumber party in history.

Fiona locked the front door behind them as they left. Then she leaned her back against the closed door, closed her eyes, slumped down a little, and exhaled a big sigh of exhaustion and relief and excitement all mixed together. She was happy to get a break and to spend some private time with Michael. And sleep.

"Are you almost done in there?" she called to Michael.

Silence.

"Michael?"

"Fi, can we just assume that I'll come out when I'm done? I don't want to give a running commentary on my progress."

Fiona stopped short and realized that before Charlie came into her life, she never would've inquired about another person's toileting status. A two year old erases all boundaries.

"Okay, sorry. Too used to asking Charlie. You know?"

"Seriously, Fi, shut up. This is my first time alone in the bathroom in ten days."

While Michael was still hiding in their bathroom, Fiona opened the refrigerator to survey dinner options. They'd planned on stir frying a bunch of vegetables. Michael had even pre-chopped everything, possibly the most domestic thing he'd ever done. But Fiona knew this plan wasn't going to work. Just then, Michael emerged from their bedroom.

"I would say I'm sorry I snapped at you, but I'm not actually sorry. Very private time in there, Fi."

"Whatever. We need to talk about something."

"What?"

"I'm on borrowed time tonight. I don't know if I can make it past ten o'clock. So we can have dinner or we can have sex, but we can't do both. I know you said you were hungry on the way home, but so help me god, Michael, if you choose dinner, I will stab you in your sleep," Fiona warned.

Michael's mouth slid into a huge grin as he took Fi's hand and they headed back to their room.

Fiona quickly took off her jeans. She would've kept going, but Michael loved to undress her, so she left on her tank top, bra, and panties. Once, many moons ago, they'd joked about designing lingerie with gun holsters.

As for Fiona, she preferred herself and Michael nude, and she didn't much care how they got that way. Skin-to-skin contact was about as alluring a sensation as she'd felt. Even more alluring than skin-to-gun-metal.

Both of them usually slept in the nude, but they hadn't since Charlie'd been bunking with them. That was reason enough to make getting Charlie comfortable in the guest room a top priority. So on top of everything else, both Michael and Fiona were looking forward to the exquisite tactile delight of sleeping in their bare skin.

After some lightning-fast teeth brushing to rid their mouths of those sickeningly sweet piña coladas, they practically jumped into bed, grinning like teenagers. Hiding from Charlie felt just as deliciously naughty as hiding from their parents all those years ago.

"God, where to begin," Fi said, smiling.

Michael answered her by straddling her and then sinking into her with deep, decadent kisses.

"Good choice," Fi panted when they stopped to breathe for a second. Lots and lots and lots more kissing later, they were simultaneously relieved and revved up.

And then, yadda yadda yadda, they were just relieved.

After a little post-yadda-yadda snooze, Michael and Fiona lay peacefully, their bodies interlocked in a human jigsaw puzzle. A leg here, an arm there. Skin and warmth.

"What are you thinking about?" Fiona asked.

"Everything," Michael replied. "All this is so surreal."

"Mm-hmm," Fi agreed.

"I feel like – I dunno, like I'm out of my body, watching someone else with Charlie. And I don't know what that guy'll do next. Not until I see it."

"Yeah?" Fiona prompted, wanting him to continue.

Michael was quiet for a few moments. "I don't know how to describe it, really. Just doesn't feel like me," he said eventually.

"You're doing really well with him, Michael. Do you know that?"

"I – I don't think I've thought about it. It's not that I think I'm doing a bad job. I just don't feel like it's me down there with him." Michael paused. "It doesn't even feel like a cover. Like, it's not that I'm pretending to be an uncle and I've figured out that uncles do X and they don't do Y. It just doesn't feel like me."

Fiona hugged Michael a little tighter, taking some time before she spoke. "I think this is just a part of you you didn't know was there. It's you. Just an unfamiliar you."

Michael was silent.

"Do you like being with him? I mean, I know some of it's fun and some of it's hard, but do you look forward to being with him? Do you like thinking about him?" Fi asked.

Michael thought. "Honestly, Fi, I don't think about it in those terms. I'm just so removed from it." He started stroking her head with his fingertips.

"I think that has to be a defense mechanism," Fiona said after a while. "You called it on the first night. You're afraid to get close because you never get close and you never get close because you're afraid to get close."

Michael snorted a soft laugh. "Yeah."

"Well, Charlie's happy. At the very least we're not traumatizing him. Probably all we can hope for at this point."

"What about you, Fi? How do you feel about all this?" Michael asked.

"I like it. Maybe it's because I've been around a lot of kids. Maybe it's because I know it's temporary. Probably both. And I really like Charlie, you know? He's a neat kid. He's passionate and fiery and he just wants what he wants. I can relate to that."

"That I can definitely see," Michael smiled.

"And as much as I like Charlie, I love seeing you with him, Michael. I love it, for him and for you. I know you feel removed, but you don't look like it when you're with him. Not anymore."

Michael didn't say anything.

"So that's what I think," Fi concluded.

Michael waited a few moments. "I don't know how to ask gently so I'll just ask. Do you want to have a baby? Is that where you're headed?"

Fi laughed. "No. No, Michael, I don't. I like being an aunt. It's the right balance for me. I think I'm a good aunt, but I think I'd be a shite mother." She paused for a moment. "Or maybe I'd be a good mother. Doesn't matter. I don't want to do it," she added. "I assume you're asking because you're worried I'd want to have a baby, not that you're trying to convince me to have one," she laughed.

"If ever there was a question that needed no response," Michael replied.

Fiona wiggled around a little, repositioning herself. "You know, I'm not as tired as before. I might even make it til midnight."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. And I intend to spend a lot of time between now and then right here in this bed," she continued. Then she was quiet.

"But?"

"I'm hungry," she mumbled.

He stopped stroking her hair. "You're hungry?" he repeated. "You're hungry. You."

"Come on, Michael, give me a break. Yes, I'm hungry."

"Were you, or were you not, the person who threatened to stab me in my sleep if I picked food over sex?" Michael asked dramatically.

"I might still stab you if you don't find me something to eat. You may recall I just expended a considerable amount of energy."

"So lemme get this straight," Michael laughed, propping himself up on one elbow. "You're ditching me for food and I have to be the one to get the food?"

"Just think of it as payback for Neal," Fiona said smugly.

"All right, you freak, whaddya wanna eat?" Michael asked.

"Grilled cheese sandwiches."

"I can do that," he said, stroking her face before getting out of bed.

A/N: So this one was shorter and pretty serious. But I think it was right for the story. More funnies coming up.