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merryghoulTitle: Mattress | AO3
Fandom: Burn Notice
Medium: fic
Wordcount: 517
Rating: PG-13
Contains: no standard notes apply
Summary: "I didn't know you'd make such a nice mattress."
"I didn't know you'd make such a nice mattress." Fiona grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt and rubbed it between her fingers. "What's this shirt made out of, cotton? A cotton-polyester blend?"
"I don't know, Fi. I buy the shirts from a menswear store. How am I supposed to know what they're made out of?"
"Never mind. This is definitely a cotton-polyester blend. It holds its shape."
"You know that a cotton-polyester blend holds its shape."
"It's on the internet, Sam."
"Lady, I just buy the shirts, okay? Whether or not the shirts are cotton or a cotton blend is not important to the job. So, did you call Mikey or Jesse?"
"I called both. Jesse was willing to get us out of this basement, but Michael told him and me that it's best to wait until morning. There are less people around the building and both Michael and Jesse can take them on."
"So Mr. and Mrs. Finley are in the basement until morning."
"It's not so bad." Fiona fluffed Sam's shirt. "I've slept on more uncomfortable things."
"Like mud?"
"Actually, I meant cold, hard floors. Do you really think Ireland is made up of shacks with straw and mud? I'm not a pig."
"I didn't say you were a pig."
Fiona sighed. "Mud's quite comfortable, actually. You get dirty, but it's comfortable enough to hide in. Very squishy. But I don't like to be in it forever. Do you know how long it takes to get mud out of my hair?"
"Who knows what's in your hair? I think you're hiding C4 in it now."
Fiona scoffed. "I wish I was."
"I don't believe you."
Fiona ruffled her hair. "You seriously think I can hide a brick of C4 in my hair?"
Sam nodded.
"Why don't you go through it right now?"
Sam put his fingers through Fiona's hair.
"I'm impressed at how soft your hair is. I was expecting it to feel like porcupine quills."
After Sam went through Fiona's hair, he said "Well, all I found was a hairpin. That's not enough to get us out of here."
"That's what I'm saving it for, if there's a chance we can get out of here without getting torn apart by those Koch rifles."
"But right now there's no chance, so we may as well sleep here. Sucks we're by a lot of cleaning materials and we can't do anything with them. If they had the right stuff around, we could make an explosive without blowing ourselves up and get the hell out of here. Which brings me back to you sleeping on top of me."
"It's not like we're having sex, Sam. Are you afraid that something's going to rise in the night and surprise us?"
"No, no. I don't even like you, remember? You're Mikey's girl. You're an alright friend, but I don't like you in that way."
"Oh, I'm an alright friend now?"
"Put the eyebrows down, Fi. Enough talking, let's go to sleep."
"Yes, let's go to sleep."
"And then tomorrow night I can sleep in my own bed, thank God."
Fandom: Burn Notice
Medium: fic
Wordcount: 517
Rating: PG-13
Contains: no standard notes apply
Summary: "I didn't know you'd make such a nice mattress."
"I didn't know you'd make such a nice mattress." Fiona grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt and rubbed it between her fingers. "What's this shirt made out of, cotton? A cotton-polyester blend?"
"I don't know, Fi. I buy the shirts from a menswear store. How am I supposed to know what they're made out of?"
"Never mind. This is definitely a cotton-polyester blend. It holds its shape."
"You know that a cotton-polyester blend holds its shape."
"It's on the internet, Sam."
"Lady, I just buy the shirts, okay? Whether or not the shirts are cotton or a cotton blend is not important to the job. So, did you call Mikey or Jesse?"
"I called both. Jesse was willing to get us out of this basement, but Michael told him and me that it's best to wait until morning. There are less people around the building and both Michael and Jesse can take them on."
"So Mr. and Mrs. Finley are in the basement until morning."
"It's not so bad." Fiona fluffed Sam's shirt. "I've slept on more uncomfortable things."
"Like mud?"
"Actually, I meant cold, hard floors. Do you really think Ireland is made up of shacks with straw and mud? I'm not a pig."
"I didn't say you were a pig."
Fiona sighed. "Mud's quite comfortable, actually. You get dirty, but it's comfortable enough to hide in. Very squishy. But I don't like to be in it forever. Do you know how long it takes to get mud out of my hair?"
"Who knows what's in your hair? I think you're hiding C4 in it now."
Fiona scoffed. "I wish I was."
"I don't believe you."
Fiona ruffled her hair. "You seriously think I can hide a brick of C4 in my hair?"
Sam nodded.
"Why don't you go through it right now?"
Sam put his fingers through Fiona's hair.
"I'm impressed at how soft your hair is. I was expecting it to feel like porcupine quills."
After Sam went through Fiona's hair, he said "Well, all I found was a hairpin. That's not enough to get us out of here."
"That's what I'm saving it for, if there's a chance we can get out of here without getting torn apart by those Koch rifles."
"But right now there's no chance, so we may as well sleep here. Sucks we're by a lot of cleaning materials and we can't do anything with them. If they had the right stuff around, we could make an explosive without blowing ourselves up and get the hell out of here. Which brings me back to you sleeping on top of me."
"It's not like we're having sex, Sam. Are you afraid that something's going to rise in the night and surprise us?"
"No, no. I don't even like you, remember? You're Mikey's girl. You're an alright friend, but I don't like you in that way."
"Oh, I'm an alright friend now?"
"Put the eyebrows down, Fi. Enough talking, let's go to sleep."
"Yes, let's go to sleep."
"And then tomorrow night I can sleep in my own bed, thank God."
