Three years later

"Gentlemen," Michael shouted. "And gentlewomen. Come take a knee." He waited as twelve kindergarteners, ten boys and two girls, made their way to the grass just behind the dugout, shrieking and faux-fighting along the way. "Thank you. All right. Coach Fiona and I want to talk to you about - Joshua, get your face out of his butt." Joshua laughed hysterically but obeyed. "Coach Fiona and I want to talk to you about our game today. Coach Fiona, why don't you start."

Fiona paced in front of the group authoritatively, using a baseball bat as a walking stick. "Otters. You have before you the opportunity to establish yourselves as superior tee ball players. The Otters can be the team to fear in the Miami Memorial Sports Association Junior Baseball Midget Division Section C. Next time you can win and you will win if you remember your position and remember your mission. You can do this." She shook her bat in the air a few times for emphasis. "OTTERS," she concluded. The players stared at her.

Michael cleared his throat. "Thank you, Coach Fiona," he said after a few moments. "Otters, I agree you can be the team to beat if we remember some basics. Do we sit down in the outfield? Charlie?"

"But I was too bored," whined Charlie.

"That's right, we don't sit down in the outfield," Michael said firmly. "Andrew. Mr. Speed Demon. Is running backwards to first base the best way to help your team, Andrew? Just because you can?"

"No," said Andrew mournfully.

"Correct. Run facing forward. Alonso, buddy, you had a rough time today. Are you clear on your job as catcher for next time?"

A bespectacled boy looked up. "Huh?"

"When you're catcher, Alonso, it's great if you catch the ball after the batter hits it, but you can't take it off the tee before they hit it."

Alonso took that in for a moment. "Because it's not my turn?" he asked.

"Uhhh . . . yes, because it's not your turn," Michael confirmed, figuring if it worked for Alonso, it worked for him. "Also, buddy, when it's your turn to bat and you hit the ball with your bat and we say run, we mean run to first base. Don't run back in the dugout. Okay, man?" Alonso nodded.

"Okay. Very good," said Michael. "Now listen. The most important thing is for you to have fun. And you all were definitely having fun today. Right, Sophias? Our wiggling, giggling girls?" Sophia D. and Sophia K. giggled in response. "Coach Fiona and I are just asking you to try to remember your job when you're on the field. Okay? So, Sophia, next time I want you to stay near third base, because that's your spot. Don't go talk to Sophia in center field. That's her spot. Everybody should stay in their spot. Make sense?"

Eight little heads nodded. The other four were fixated on the snacks being set up to Michael's left.

Michael whistled. "Guys. Gentlemen." Nothing. "CHARLIE JOSHUA ANDREW JAKE." That did it. Reluctantly the four little heads turned toward Michael. "Eyes on me, guys," Michael said. "You'll get your snack in a minute.

"All right, everybody in." Michael stretched his arm forward. Fiona did the same, and soon a bunch of grubby little hands were piled on top of each other. "Ready?" he said. "Go."

"One, two, three, OTTERS!" they screamed.

Michael clapped. "All right, guys, go get your sn - " He didn't finish before twelve little Otters fairly flew to the area behind the bleachers where Madeline had set up Capri Suns and frosted animal cookies.

Fiona and Michael watched the herd feed. "I didn't think it was possible for them to be worse than last week," she said quietly.

"Worse in some ways but better in others," Michael replied. "At least this time they didn't all chase the runner."

"I suppose." Fiona looked at her watch. "Jesse's flight is supposed to land in an hour. God. Can you imagine flying with a 13 month old?

Michael shuddered. "No, and I don't want to," he said. "Jesse said she started walking last month and now she won't sit still. At all."

Charlie trotted to Michael and Fiona, juice pouch in one hand, half-eaten cookie in the other, and the other half of the cookie in varying stages of mastication in his mouth. "Can we go to the Lego store?" he asked, though it was hard to understand him around a mouthful of cookie.

"Hello to you, too, Charlie," Fiona replied.

"Hello can we go to the Lego store?"

"Not today, cutie," said Fiona. "You remember who's coming over?"

He swallowed, finally. "No."

"Jesse and Lauren and baby Violet. Don't you remember we talked about it this morning?"

"No."

Michael stared at Charlie. "We had like a 15-minute discussion about how they're going to be staying in our house this week and what babies do and how you act around a baby. How can you not remember?"

Charlie shrugged. "I dunno. Why can't we go to the Lego store before they come over?"

"Because we just ran around for two hours in the 90 degree heat for you and your cronies and we don't want to," Michael answered.

Charlie stomped his foot. "Hmphh. Not fair," he said before storming off.

"You're welcome," Michael called after him.

Two hours later, Michael and Fiona were arguing over who would get to play with Jesse first. Fiona wanted to take him to the shooting range and show him her new toys. Michael wanted to show him the campus of the new training facility he was running, the Ranch (not to be confused with the Farm).

Their discussion was rapidly increasing in volume when the doorbell rang. Charlie came tearing down the stairs and ran to the door. "WHO IS IT?" he screamed.

"Hey, little man. It's Jesse," came a solid voice through the door.

Charlie looked back at Michael and Fiona. "Go ahead," Michael said. "You can open it." After struggling with the lock for a few seconds, Charlie pushed the door open.

"JESSE!" Charlie yelled as he threw himself around one of Jesse's massive legs.

"Hey, dude!" Jesse picked Charlie up, squeezing him tight while he kissed his messy hair. "I can't believe how you big you got. You're huge!" And with that, Charlie was finished. He wiggled down from Jesse's arms and bolted up the stairs. "Bye, Charlie," Jesse called as he turned to Fiona. "Come here, you." They hugged tightly, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the jaw. "You look great as always. And Mr. Professor, you're looking pretty good yourself," Jesse laughed as he extended his hand to Michael.

"It's great to see you, man," Michael said, slapping him on the back. "Why is Lauren in the car?" he asked, peering out the door.

"V's asleep. We're putting off waking her up as long as we can. Hell, Lauren might be asleep, too." Jesse turned around and craned to see the car.

"Peaceful flight?" Fiona asked, grinning.

"Oh my god, you guys, she never stopped moving or talking. Like, ever. She didn't fall asleep until about 10 minutes before we started the descent. And then she woke up screaming 'cause her ears hurt, I guess."

"Poor thing," Fiona murmured.

"Who, me or the baby?" said Jesse.

She chuckled. "I'll go help Lauren. Or just sit with them while they sleep. Michael, come get their bags." Michael and Jesse followed her out the front door.

"I like the new digs, man," Jesse remarked as they walked. "When'd you move in?"

"Oh, what, Fi, maybe six months ago?"

"Yeah, about that," she replied. "It's incredible how tiny a 1,900 square foot house feels with Charlie in it. This one isn't that much bigger, actually. It's just laid out better. And it has an upstairs where we can banish him."

The driver's side back door of the rented, white Chevy Impala opened and out came Lauren, squinting in the punishing sun. "Hi," she said, a little shyly. This was the first time she'd seen Michael and Fiona in two and a half years, when she and Jesse got married on a tiny, hidden beach along Florida's Emerald Coast. It was hard to think of Michael as a friend rather than a superior, even though he'd been nothing but welcoming since she and Jesse started dating in London. And the fact that she was effectively a matchmaker for Michael and Fiona added a layer of weirdness.

"Well, hello!" Fiona said warmly, going in for a hug. "We're so glad you could come with Jesse this time."

"Me, too," said Lauren. "Thank you so much for inviting us to stay with you." She looked at Michael, who was standing quietly in the background. "Hi, Michael."

He stepped toward her and they embraced politely. "Hi, Lauren. Great to see you again."

They all stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say next.

"Michael, get the bags," Fiona instructed. "Do you need some help with the baby, Lauren?"

"No, Jesse will get her. She usually stays asleep if he takes her."

Fiona smiled as Jesse awkwardly maneuvered his giant frame into the back of the sedan. "Charlie was like that with Michael," she remarked. "I think their little bodies just fit so snugly in those big arms."

Jesse emerged slowly with a tiny girl cradled on his chest. The back of her bright yellow and navy sundress was wrinkled and sweaty. Soft hair the color of dark chocolate was matted on one side where she'd been lying on it for the past 45 minutes. Her fair cheeks were rosy with sleep.

"Oh, Lauren, the pictures don't do her justice. What a beauty," Fiona gushed, gently rubbing Violet's back.

"Aw, thank you," Lauren replied. "You're sweet."

"Michael, you've got to see her up close," said Fiona. "She's exquisite."

Michael was pretending to be busy with the luggage. Three and a half years with Charlie and he was still uncomfortable around most kids. Especially babies. He came around from the trunk and stood near Jesse. "You did good, man," he said. "Lucky for you she looks like her mom."

"I know," said Jesse, grinning. "If she can get Lauren's looks and my height, she'll be golden. The world will be hers for the taking."

Michael and Jesse sat on the deck in the backyard a while later, sipping cold beer from sweating bottles as the sun mellowed from screaming white to a peaceful orange. Charlie was outside with them, firing darts from his Nerf arsenal into the fence. Fiona was picking up dinner. Lauren and Violet were sleeping.

"So how's the new gig?" Jesse asked. "You getting some decent people or more like . . . what was that guy's name again? The Tongan king?"

"Neal," replied Michael, shuddering at the memory, and Jesse nodded in agreement. "Oh, Neal. I haven't thought about him in a long time. No, for the most part these people are good. Quick studies, eager to learn. Couple of them need to work on their judgment, but nothing that can't be fixed."

"And who are they again? Analysts who want to go into the field?"

"Yeah. Before it was every new analyst. They were just supposed to learn basic field tactics. These are more experienced people who may end up switching to field ops, either because they want to or they're being reassigned. Most of them want to."

"What'd they do before you came along? Was there another class?

"Not really," Michael answered. "It was more case-by-case. If someone wanted to move to the field, they just found someone willing to teach them. The Ranch is a pilot program."

"And was it always going to be here?"

"No, originally they were going to camp out in some empty space at Quantico until they figured out if they were going to keep the program, and then they'd find somewhere permanent. I told them I wouldn't move unless they moved my mom, too. They figured out pretty fast it'd be easier to move the Ranch than my mother."

Jesse guffawed. "You know it. How is Maddie?"

"You know, she's doing a lot better now that she finally accepts that she has emphysema. She's on a bronchodilator, uses oxygen when she needs it. Really not as big a deal as I would have expected. She's smoked for more than 50 years but the doctor says you'd never know it from her lungs. I mean, they're bad, but they're not how-are-you-still-alive bad."

"She's gonna outlive us all, Mike. You know that."

"You're right." Michael took a swig, then swallowed suddenly. "Oh, did Fiona tell you she's got a boyfriend?"

"Did Fiona tell me Fiona's got a boyfriend? Uh, no, Mike, I don't think she'd tell me something like that."

Michael groaned. "Did she tell you my mother's got a boyfriend?"

"You're kidding. No, she didn't tell me."

"Yeah, for about three months now. Joseph. They met at a COPD support group."

Jesse almost spit out his beer. "Your mom joined a support group?"

Michael nodded. "I'm telling you, this is a whole new Madeline Westen. She's all over me and Fi about preventative health, always trying to get us to do a cleanse and eat dandelions or something."

"Jesus," Jesse said, laughing heartily. "So do we like this guy?"

"He seems fine," Michael answered. "Tough to have a conversation with him because he coughs constantly, but other than that . . . ."

"He retired?"

"No, he's an IT guy for the county."

"Still? How old is he?"

"Fifty-four."

"Fifty-four? Your mom's a cougar, dude! Good for her."

Michael took a long drink from his beer and shook his head. "The whole thing is surreal, Jess. I try not to think about it too much."

Jesse nodded and drank from his own bottle. "I'd love to see her."

"Wouldn't matter if you didn't. Fi told her you were coming and now she and Joseph want to take you and us and Sam and Elsa out."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep. Day after tomorrow. We got a sitter for Charlie. She can watch the baby, too, or you can bring her with us. Whatever you'd like."

Jesse repositioned himself nervously. "A sitter . . . I don't know. We've never done that."

"Then just bring her. It's no problem."

"I'll talk to Lauren. I gotta say, man, I'm surprised you'll do a sitter. Doesn't seem your speed."

"Well, you're right, and we wouldn't, except this is Charlie's old teacher, Virginia. You ever meet her?"

"I remember the name, I think."

"She's great. I think we would have gone off a cliff that first year without her. Anyway, her kids are all graduated and out of the house now so she babysits for people at the school sometimes."

"That's great, man. That's great. And hell, if Michael Westen can trust a babysitter, maybe there's hope for us."

Michael scoffed. "We only did it for the first time a month ago and that was after a clearance level security check. You probably got a few years of paranoia left."

"Sounds about right," Jesse said. "So Sam and Elsa are in town? Fi had said they were gonna be cruising the African coast this week."

"Elsa booked a new convention so they pushed it back. Hard to keep track of Sam's vacation calendar."

"Back to enjoying retirement, is he?" Jesse grinned.

"Yeah, I think he's making up for lost time for the years he was helping me." Michael rolled his eyes. "Anyway. What's going on with you? Trial started yet?"

"Trial?" Jesse looked puzzled. "Oh, for Pulliam. Nah, after all this the bastard's gonna take a plea."

"You're not serious."

"I am."

Michael leaned forward and turned to Jesse. "MI-6 is gonna make a deal?"

"If you can call it a deal. Sixty years."

"The Brits used to cut your dick off for high treason," Michael replied. "Sixty years is a deal." He leaned back and gazed at the horizon.

"You okay, man?" Jesse asked after a while.

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno. You seem . . . I dunno, like more disappointed than I would've thought."

Michael thought for a moment. "Nah, not disappointed, just . . . ."

" . . . just?" Jesse prompted after a few seconds.

"I wish I had done more." Michael sighed.

"Whaddya mean, done more?"

"I should've gone to London. I mean that part ended up being over pretty fast, once they solidified the Prague connection."

"Yeah, but Mike, we didn't know that at the time. For all we knew we would've been in deep for years."

"I know. And I know why I stayed and I know it was the right thing to do. I just wish I could've done both." Michael drummed his fingers lightly on the bottle, gazing forward again.

"I hear ya, man," Jesse said. "I hear ya." He chuckled. "Well, no offense, but I'm glad you didn't go 'cause I got a wife and baby outta the deal."

"There is that," Michael smiled. "I'm happy for you, Jess. You seem . . . where you wanna be."

"You know, I am. I really am. I know you can't relate to this, Mike, but I was never scared of marriage or family or any of that. I always wanted those things. Always. I just made peace with the fact that I probably wasn't gonna get 'em."

Michael turned around and looked up to the window in the guest bedroom where Lauren and Violet were sleeping. "Well, you hit the jackpot then."

Jesse nodded. "You got your own jackpot, too, you know. You know there ain't a woman in the world besides Fi who would put up with you."

"To hell with that. I'm a catch," Michael deadpanned.

Jesse erupted into laughter. "A catch. Heh. Yeah, well, you may be a catch, but I'm pretty sure everybody else would've thrown you back in the water."

"Maybe so," agreed Michael. "She keeps me around for Charlie. Charlie and my pecs."

"I'll take your word for it on the pecs. Charlie, though, yeah, I can see why she'd tolerate you to have Charlie." Jesse looked out to the yard where Charlie was amassing his arsenal. "Y'all did good, man. Seems like he's doing great."

"I think he is," said Michael. "He's happy most of the time. He brings up Nate and Ruth once in a while, but he doesn't seem sad about it. I live in constant fear that he's gonna start thinking about them more and the light's gonna go out in him, but so far so good. School says he's right where he's supposed to be for his age. Seems to like to do what normal kids like to do." He took a long drink. "I can't relate to him in a lot of ways. When I was his age my life was already so fucked up. I never felt normal. Most of the time I didn't even feel safe."

Jesse stayed quiet. A plane overhead drowned out the silence long enough for Michael to stop himself from talking about his past.

"Anyway, I'm playing without a rulebook," Michael finally said. "Fi had kind of a regular childhood so we draw from that sometimes. I omit a lot of the explosives, though."

"It's not just you, Mike," Jesse replied. "I had a great childhood up until I lost my mom, and I don't have any idea what I'm doing, either. I think all parents feel that way. At least with the first kid. Maybe it gets better with the second." Jesse left a pregnant pause in the air, then let a little grin slip from his mouth.

"You're kidding," said Michael, smiling.

"Nope. Ten weeks along." Out came the huge grin.

"Jess, that's wonderful. Congratulations."

"Thanks, Mike. I gotta say, I'm stoked. I'm stoked. It's crazy. You know, we spent all this time at the beginning just dying for a real night's sleep and being scared we were gonna kill her accidentally. We swore we were gonna be one and done."

"And?" Michael prompted.

"We said fuck it. We're so in love with V, Mike. Just, like, stupid in love with her. So we said fuck it and we're being stupid and we're going for it."

Michael smiled warmly. "Jesse, I can't think of a better reason to be so stupid."

"What about you guys?" Jesse asked. "Any thought of making your trio a quartet?"

"Zero. That's one thing Fi and I agree on. Might be the only thing."

Jesse nodded. "I hear ya. Some things don't change."

"Honestly I can't imagine feeling the same way about another kid as I do about Charlie. I mean, it's a moot point, but I still think about it from time to time," said Michael. "I love Charlie in a way I don't understand. And believe me, I've tried to understand it. Like, is it because he's related to me? Because I've spent so much time with him? Because he's a loveable kid? Because I got him when he already had a personality? I don't know."

"Could be all those things or none of those things. Doesn't matter, Mike," Jesse said, smiling. "You love him."

"That's what Fi says. I don't know. I wish I understood it is all." A plasticky crash brought the men's attention back to the here and now. They looked over to the left side of the yard to see Nerf gun pieces on the grass near a thick tree.

Michael sat up. "Charlie, what - did you just throw your gun at the tree?" he said. Charlie stared at them in silence. "Better question. Why did you throw your gun at the tree?"

"I dunno," Charlie said weakly.

"You don't know," Michael repeated. "I find that hard to believe."

"I wanted to see if it would stick in the tree like a bow and arrow," said Charlie. Jesse stifled a laugh.

"Charlie, an arrow travels at 150 miles per hour and has a steel arrowhead," Michael replied. "Of course it's going to stick in bark. Your gun is made out of probably the world's cheapest plastic. It's only trick is to fall apart on impact."

Charlie just stood there.

"Looks like Auntie Fi needs to start the ballistics lessons up again," Michael said, taking a swig as he leaned back in his chair.

THE END

Author's note: Today is December 9, 2016. I published chapter 48 on December 2, 2015. I hoped to get chapter 49 up within a year, but no use crying over spilled milk. At least it wasn't two years.

I loved writing this story. Well, let be more precise. I love having written it. The writing process was no fun, because as you can see I am a painfully slow writer. But I do love the story, and I reread it from time to time for my own enjoyment. I love what I did with Michael and Fiona, and I do think that once they got to their snowy cabin in the woods, their fictional reality started to look like what I envisioned in this story.

I offer sincere gratitude and admiration to Matt Nix for creating these deliciously complex characters, to the writers for enhancing their richness, and to the actors for bringing them to life. I thought Jeffrey Donovan was a terrific actor from Burn Notice alone. His more recent work on Fargo and Shut Eye has driven home for me how talented he is and how expansive his range is. I can't imagine anyone else playing Michael.

I deeply appreciate your reading my story and sharing your reactions, and especially your sticking with me all this time. I intend to keep working on The In Between and Before, so stay tuned. I also have some crazy crossover notions of Dodd Gehrhardt being outwitted by eleven-year-old Michael Westen and of Charlie and Linda Haverford trying to con Michael and Fiona. I don't know if those ideas will blossom into stories, but they sure are fun to think about.

Best wishes to you all.