Epilogue

Fiona Glenanne sat on the beach, enjoying the feeling of sand between her toes and the wind in her hair. With only the sound of the crashing waves to keep her company, it was a peaceful and quiet evening with no other souls in sight for miles.

She smiled to herself when she heard the faint sounds of the familiar Dodge Charger approaching, and kept listening until the throaty growls of its engine came to a stop a few yards away, by the sidewalk.

Michael got out of the car and did his usual visual sweep around the perimeter before closing the door and locking it. When his gaze finally landed on her, she saw him break into a grin, his entire demeanour relaxing.

She watched his leisurely approach with her chin resting on her folded forearms, more than a little amused that he actually wanted to meet here at the beach, of all places. While the rest of the world tended to enjoy the sights of the ocean and the smell of the clean, salty breeze, all Michael Westen ever saw on a beach was a vulnerable tactical position with no decent cover.

"Fi," he said softly, and folded himself on the wet sand next to her with an effortless sort of grace, ignoring all the instructions and warnings she was quite certain were on the label of his designer suit.

"Did you just get back?"

It had been a little over two weeks since they had finally wrapped up the mission with Sonya Lebedenko in the custody of the CIA. Michael had gone with Pearce and her team, while Fiona had stayed behind with Sam and Jesse, their part of the mission having concluded back in Key Biscayne.

Although they had stayed in constant contact, this was the first time she'd gotten to see him in person.

"Yeah," he said, squinting at the rippling waves that had acquired a golden hue, "Sam picked me up and I dropped him off at the resort on the way here."

Fiona let her head fall against his shoulder, savouring how the world felt so calm, as if it had finally stopped falling apart around them while they scrambled to keep their heads above the tide and hold everything together.

"We were beginning to worry for a while there."

It was the truth. While Michael had kept all of them in the loop with as much information as he could via calls and texts, they had all learned the hard way that his old agency wasn't the most trustworthy of institutions.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Michael sighed, and let his cheek rest against the top of her head, "There were just too many post-op briefings on top of being called to testify against Meyers. It was a hectic few days."

"What happened to that asshole, anyway?"

"The National Security Division of the DOJ is handling his prosecution. The case is under a lot of scrutiny right now, and I don't see how he's going to talk his way out of it. Even the CIA's going to have some rough times ahead. A congressional oversight committee's going to be hovering over their shoulders for a very long time."

"About time," she scoffed snidely, "The place's been overrun by a bunch of nasty pieces of work."

"Well," Michael said, and she could almost feel his amusement at her contempt, "Not all of them."

"Fine," she sighed, relenting. "Most of them, then. What about Sonya? Did you see her again?"

"Yeah, once," Michael murmured in a subdued voice, "She refused to talk to anyone but me."

"How'd that go?"

"About as well as you could imagine," Michael said slowly, "She was never going to give anything up on James or their organisation. I guess she just wanted to understand why I betrayed them. I think a small part of her held onto the hope that it was some kind of an elaborate game on my part to get back at my old nemesis. All that meeting did was crush that hope."

Fiona stayed where she was, silently soaking up the pleasant warmth emanating from him. She was kind of surprised that he even shared that much. While a certain sense of grief layered his tone, underpinning the resignation, she was relieved to hear that he wasn't too broken up about Sonya Lebedenko's current situation.

"Sometimes you can't save everyone, Michael," she said quietly after a while, "They have to want to be saved."

Michael grunted, but didn't say anything else.

"What's going to happen to her?" She asked. "Do you know?"

"She's still pretty much one of the most wanted spies in Russia," he said, "They'll use her as a bargaining chip, for either an intel or prisoner exchange, that kinda thing."

"Are you okay with that?"

He thought about it for a few seconds, his gaze fixed on the reflection of moonlight on the horizon, before letting out a long exhale, "Like you said, Fi," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can't fix everything, no matter how much I want to."

The silence that fell between them after that was easy and companionable. Fiona said nothing to break it, content to just let the moment stretch, enjoying the feeling of having him all to herself.

"On the bright side, it's all over and behind us now," Michael said, finally breaking the silence.

"Then we can move on with our lives, can't we?"

"Sure can," he said, smiling, "Got my passport, IDs and everything–"

Fiona frowned, and then moved back a little so she could look up at him, "What do you mean? Did they give you a new identity?"

"No, Fi, they finally released my own identity," he said, his smile growing wider in genuine happiness, "My passport, ID, driver's licence, my damned bank accounts and all the frozen assets… they finally released everything."

"Michael," she exclaimed, almost too scared to even ask, "Does this mean what I think it means?"

"I'm finally officially off the burned list, and reinstated with my original record intact." Fiona felt a matching grin stretch on her lips at his infectious enthusiasm. Then her own elation dimmed a fraction at his next few words, "I can even return to work if I want to. Pearce made a very strong case why I should."

"Do you wanna?" she asked, doing her best not to let her trepidation bleed into her tone.

Then, for the second time that evening, Michael surprised her.

"Fi," he said, turning his head so he was looking directly into her eyes, "I've been running like a madman for the past six years. I think it's about time I stopped for a while to take a break."

It took her a moment to find words at his simple, honest admission, "Those are the words I never expected to hear from you, Michael." She murmured, quietly stunned.

The look in his eyes softened, "I meant what I said back in Panama."

She wrapped her hand around his arm to pull him closer so she could use his shoulder as a warm pillow again, "What have you got in mind?" she asked, smiling at the quiet night beach that suddenly seemed absolutely magical.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "How would you like to get out of here for a while?"

"Out of Miami? To where?"

"Well, you wanted to go back home once," he said slowly, "Now that there's no one waiting to kill you back there, it should be safe enough, don't you think?"

Even the mention of home brought back a lot of memories, most of them focused around the time she had met a brazen man who had pretended to be a fellow soldier for the cause, the one who had later turned out to be so much more.

"You want to go back to Ireland with me?" She didn't care how her voice shook with emotion.

"Yeah, why not?" he asked, equally softly, before letting his tone lighten with amusement, "We can even check on O'Brien. See how he's been running my pub in my absence–"

"Your pub?"

"Remember the Rowdy Jewel?" Michael asked, and she could see he was fighting back a grin, "It's mine. I kinda bought it the day after you danced with me."

She laughed, feeling giddy, stunned and incredulous at the same time. The man was full of revelations that evening, and to her absolute amazement, they were all incredible.

"Give me a second to digest this," she said after a long moment, gasping and wiping the tears off her face, "I can't believe that old grumpy asshole just sold it to you!"

"You know me," Michael flashed a smug grin, "I can be persuasive when I want to be."

"Why?" She asked, still trying to come to terms with the fact that Michael owned the place where she had a lot of precious, treasured memories. She couldn't quite figure out why he would make an impulsive decision like that.

"Because I wanted us to go there again one day," he murmured, his gaze wistful, "And I don't know, it felt like the right decision at the time… It still does."

"You saw us going back to the very first place we began," She shook her head in pure disbelief, "You're such a romantic, Michael! How the hell didn't I know this until now?!"

"Well," he said, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a half hug, "Because I can be pretty secretive when I want to be, too."

Nothing was perfect in an imperfect world, Fiona knew that, especially when the one they lived in was filled with uncertainty and danger at every corner. Yet, what he had just laid before her was the beginning of something new, and exciting, something she had always wanted with him. It was an enticing glimpse of a future, a promise of something they could have together just for themselves, offered up to her in the quiet of the night wrapped up with a ray of cautious hope shining in his blue-green eyes.

This right here, she thought to herself, smiling, is pretty damned close.

There was only one more thing left to do to bridge that minuscule gap, she reflected, turning around to abandon her perch on the sand to climb onto his much more comfortable lap. His hands wrapped around her waist as she drew him in with her arms around his neck.

"Well, Michael," she murmured, swaying in closer as he closed his eyes with a contented sigh, "I'm pretty damn good at a few things myself."

It'd been too damn long since she'd kissed him - eighteen months, two weeks and a day, in fact, a subconscious part had been counting diligently - and she finally found what she had been missing terribly when their lips finally met after all that time. It was as if pieces finally fell where they belonged in her world, and encased in his loving embrace, she finally accepted what she had known all along about the two of them:

No matter what they did or where they lived, they only ever found home in each other's arms.

The End.