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merryghoulAuthor(s):
merryghoulArtist(s):
hollymarchosiasFandom(s): Burn Notice
Type: het
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 9947
Characters/Pairings: Michael Westen/Fiona Glenanne, Sam Axe, Jesse Porter, Charlie Westen, Barry, Dixon
Warnings/Spoilers: This story is mostly set during the series finale, "Reckoning." There are some plot details for seasons six and seven mentioned in the fic. There is canon-typical violence and sexual innuendo, but nothing gory or explicitly detailed.
Summary: Some of Michael and Fiona's friends (and "friends") help plan their deaths. A missing scenes fic for "Means & Ends" and "Reckoning."
Author's Notes:
hollymarchosias? As always, thank you for the art. Link to Art Master Post: here, on LJ!
"Where were we?" Fiona said.
Jesse was leading Tyler Grey away from the edge of the key they were at. Michael and Fiona sat back on their rock.
"You were saying after we took down Card, we were going to go somewhere."
"Why don't we go back to Ireland? I've never liked Miami. I want to go back. You want us working together again. I think it's the perfect compromise."
"Michael, how are we supposed to go back to Ireland? Thomas O'Neill is still there. And what if MI6 gets their hands on me?"
Michael grabbed Fiona's hand. "Thanks to Card, we'll already be dead. O'Neill will feel he's been cheated out of a bounty, and MI6 will be happy an enemy to the United Kingdom is gone. Don't worry about them. If we want to stay in Ireland for the rest of our lives, we'll be careful. We can get new travel documents, new driver's licenses, new birth certificates, everything. We'll get a nice house in South Dublin, far from the city. We can help clients, but we can do it in Ireland. And when we're not helping clients, we can take our afternoons off. We can travel to the Irish Sea and watch the sunset.
"After all we've been through, before and after I met you, we both deserve a fresh start. And it's hard for me to make a fresh start in a place where we've done so much damage just to get me back in the CIA. I miss the time when I was Michael McBride and you were a gun smuggler who left her boyfriend to be with me. I want to go back to that time. I want to pretend the CIA never existed."
"What about Sam and Jesse? What about Madeline?"
"We'll make sure they get to Argentina before we leave for Ireland. They can check on my mom for us, and if they ever need anything, we'll board a few planes to be by their side."
Fiona nodded. "That sounds wonderful." She sighed. "Now let's go back to the loft so we can blow it up."
When Michael was gone from Fiona's life, she thought she had everything. And yet she felt like there was always something missing.
Fiona couldn't live in the blown up loft, and she didn't want to burden Sam or Jesse living at their places. She decided to live in the house that Colin Schmidt used to own.
Schmidt's old house was a beautiful place to live. But every time she'd drive up to it, she'd see the picture of an Irish cottage in her head. She always wanted to live in a cottage ever since she could remember seeing cottages on the way to Skellig Michael with her family.
Fiona used the money from her jobs to fill her house up with various trinkets. But every time she got a trinket, she'd think of how nice it would be to have her home filled with Michael's things. And then she'd think about his betrayal.
While on a job in Aventura one day, Fiona drove past a Michaels. As much as she hated the name of the craft store, she decided to go there after the job to look around. She ended up buying a set of acrylic paints, an easel, a palette and a few blank canvases.
Between jobs, Fiona would paint. Despite never picking up painting before, she learned how to blend colors and properly maintain her workspace through books and the internet. The subjects of Fiona's paintings were morbid things, but things that interested her: dead bodies, explosions, dripping blood.
Fiona thought about how much fun this would be if she painted with Michael. But the bad memories came back.
When the painting wasn't enough to forget about Michael, she visited Madeline and Charlie, Michael's nephew, whenever she could. Later, when Michael was in and out of her life because of his CIA mission, he encouraged her to take care of him in his absences.
Fiona had some experience playing with the children of clients before, so she used her previous experiences with Charlie. To her surprise, she liked playing with him. And she was delighted when she learned Charlie was old enough to play with army men. She bought a large bag of them for him. Whenever she was over at Madeline's with him, they'd scale a war all over Madeline's living room. The soldiers were everywhere: behind Westen family photos, under the couch, hidden in plants. The only downside would be the rare army man that Madeline would accidentally sit or step on.
And then Fiona found a boyfriend: Carlos. He liked bounty hunting as much as she did. He seemed perfect for her. He cared for her in a way she thought Michael never did. She even invited Carlos to live with her. But something was still wrong with Carlos, no matter how perfect he was for her.
Whenever Fiona would check up on Michael during his CIA mission, she kept telling herself she wasn't in love with Michael anymore. She was done risking her life for his. She did what she had to do because she was a part of his team, and everyone in the team needed to stick together. Her future was with a guy that wasn't hell bent on driving himself to certain death. Someone like Carlos.
When Carlos left her because of what Michael did to spare his life, she cried. Her perfect life with her perfect man had all come to an end. But still the house felt as empty as it was with Carlos in it. She couldn't deny her feelings for Michael any longer.
Fiona felt more alive in the few days she spent tracking and attempting to save Michael from James and his organization than she ever did living in Schmidt's old house with and without Carlos.
When Michael and Fiona ran away from the explosion in the Miami Chronicle building and jumped into Biscayne Bay, the second chapter of their life began.
Sam ran out to Biscayne Bay when he saw Fiona and Michael swimming towards land. With the thick smoke from the explosion still bellowing out of the building, stinging his eyes, he pulled the two of them out of the water.
"Boy, am I glad to see you two. When those explosions went off, I thought you two were goners."
"We could've been goners," Michael said. "We killed James and his men, but James had a kill switch on him. So Fi and I had to run out of the building. I shot a window to escape, and we ended up in Biscayne Bay."
Sam pointed to his duffel bag. “Got it in the nick of time.”
"I don't think we should stay around, Sam."
"What, because of the smoke?"
"No, because of the CIA. Let's go."
The three of them ran towards their car in the parking lot. Fiona took the driver's seat. They sped away just in time to bypass the fire department and police heading to the Chronicle building.
Michael's team and Charlie reunited at another home Sam's realtor friend had for on the market for the evening. It was far from downtown Miami, where the former Chronicle building was, but very close to Coconut Grove, where Madeline's house once was. Moving back into the neighborhood, even if it was for a short period, was bittersweet.
When Jesse and Charlie walked into the rental house, Charlie ran into Fiona's arms. Michael watched the scene, a frown on his face.
"Auntie Fi!"
Fiona picked up Charlie. She turned to Michael.
"Charlie's seen more of me in the past few months than you. Don't take it personally."
"Uncle Mike is frowning."
Michael continued to frown.
Sam lifted up the duffel bag. "I'm guarding this bag with my life. Now what do we do about the CIA? Even if we prove what’s in that bag belongs to James, Strong doesn't seem like the kind of guy that accepts apologies."
"I think we're going to go on the run again," Jesse said, "and with a toddler."
"No. We're not going to all go on the run."
"Wait, Mike," Sam said. "Didn't you hear Jesse? We have a toddler. His mother wasn't found fit enough to take care of the child. We don't know if she ever will be fit enough to take care of him again. If we get caught by the CIA, we could all be in jail again and Charlie's going to go into foster care."
"I never said we were all going to give up to the CIA either."
"I'm confused."
"Don't be. Strong told me over the phone there would be no second chances for me. But he might give you a second chance, if you and Jesse give him that duffel bag."
"'You and Jesse?' What about me and Sam? What about Fiona and Charlie?"
"The police and the fire department know my mother died with some other men in an explosion. And they know my mother was raising Charlie. But they don't know for certain if Charlie died with my mother and those men in that explosion. And they know there was an explosion at the Chronicle building, but they don't know the people that were inside the building."
"Mike, are you saying that you're going to fake your death?"
"I have to, Sam. It's either that or we'll be separated for the rest of our lives." He gulped. "When I was on the roof of James' building, I was forced to make a choice. I could've burned people like myself or I could walk away from all of it. And I'm choosing to walk away from it."
"By yourself?"
"No." He grabbed Fiona's free hand. "Charlie needs parents in his life. I'm the closest blood relative he has other than his mother. And he's close to Fiona. When I almost took over for James, I almost lost Fiona and Charlie for good. I want to get to know Charlie. And I've lost Fiona too many times now. I don't want to lose her again."
Charlie started to play with Fiona's hair, yanking it as Michael was speaking. "You have long hair."
"Yes, I do have long hair, Charlie. Ouch."
"Mikey, it sounds like you're retiring from the CIA so you can take care of Charlie and be with Fi."
"I am. And I need Jesse's and your help to convince a lot of people that Charlie died with my mom and we died with James at the Chronicle building."
"May as well start a checklist of what we need again," Jesse said. "We're going to need money—"
"Fi and I have the money."
"A bank account—"
Fiona shook her head. "There's Barry. You can let the weasel put our money in some offshore bank account, and we can get a house and a car."
"Barry's a weasel."
"That's right, Charlie. Barry is a weasel."
"I think we need fake documents first. You know, stuff like IDs."
"We have a guy in the city," Fiona said. "He'll listen to us. Or he'll lose his nuts."
"What about your stuff? Do you want that shipped out of the country? I'm assuming you two are leaving the country."
"We can take a few things. I can arrange for someone to pick them up."
"And where are you going?"
Michael and Fiona looked at each other.
"Someplace where in the winter, it snows," Michael said. "I think it's time I get away from running around in Central and South America and Miami. For good."
Jesse shrugged. "More girls in bikinis for me, then."
"You're not telling us where you're going?"
"The time's not right, Sam. Charlie, Fi and I have to stay dead for a while. The CIA could still torture you and try to find out where we're at. Once the CIA's convinced we're dead, then we'll send you a postcard."
"Wait a minute. Fi, do you know where you two are going?"
"We talked about it over a year ago. Michael told me what he wanted to do after I thought he was through with the CIA, and I agreed. And I think now is the best time to act on that promise and make it come true this time."
"Without us?"
"You'll still be our friend, Jesse, but yes, it was only going to be Michael and me. When the coast is clear, you can always visit. But Michael's right. We have to play dead so we can raise Charlie. And Michael's right—it has to be a secret or we all go back to jail."
"Let's change the subject," Sam said. "So I guess we're all staying here until we can get you two lovebirds and Charlie to wherever you're going."
"You'd better call Elsa and tell her you're on another work-related trip for a few days," Michael said.
"I'm sure she'll be thrilled."
At five AM, the paper edition of the Miami Chronicle is circulated around the city. The papers are distributed in the usual places: newsstands, newspaper racks, inside certain stores. Some of the local universities make the Miami Chronicle available to students and staff for free.
It was at the Wolfson Campus, the main campus of Miami Dade College, where Sam, dressed in a three-piece suit, walked into the college's student union, picked up a newspaper, and walked out before the union filled up with students.
Back at the house for sale, Sam plunked the Chronicle on the house's kitchen table. Everyone but Charlie was up. Fiona and Michael looked disheveled—their hair was ruffled, and it looked like they put back their clothes in a hurry. Jesse gave them a look behind their backs.
"Hate to show you this, but we made the front page of the Chronicle."
There was a large picture of the old Chronicle building after James' kill switch demolished it. The headline for that story read Two explosions rock Miami in one day.
"I've got good news and bad news, Mikey. You know how this goes."
"Give us the bad news first," Michael said.
"The bad news is the Chronicle doesn't say Fi and you died in that explosion with James. The building's so big, it's going to take a few days before anyone can find bodies in it."
"So we're still listed as hiding from the CIA."
"Sorry, buddy. But the good news is, because Fi torched Maddie's house to escape from James' men, her neighbors reported her as missing. And they saw James' goons, so they assumed Maddie and Charlie were kidnapped. The police traced James' men to our rental safe house, but by the time they got there, the explosion had already happened. Maddie's body was found along with the rest of James' goons."
"That doesn't sound uplifting, Sam."
"I'm not finished. Maddie's neighbors testified Maddie was responsible for Charlie. The authorities haven't found his body, but they assume it's been incinerated along with everyone else in that explosion."
"So the police have declared Charlie dead."
"That's right. No one's going to be looking for him. Wherever you're going, he's in the clear."
"But we still have to convince the CIA we've died."
"Yeah, we've got to work on that."
"Sam, we need to start taking our family trip around Miami so we can leave. Let's visit some old friends of ours."
"Who are we seeing first, Mikey?"
"Remember when we tried to flee Miami for Argentina?"
Dixon was walking to his car to get to work when he felt a TASER shock his back. He fell to the ground. Sam taped his mouth with duct tape and Jesse tied his hands and feet with a couple of zip ties. Dixon was shoved into the back of the trunk of the car Sam stole to get to Dixon's house.
When Dixon arrived at the safe house, all Dixon could do was shake his head with a traumatized look on his face.
"You four will be the death of me. And the little kid too, and I bet he doesn't know how to shoot a gun. Or did you teach him yet?"
"We like you, Dixon," Fiona said. "If we really hated you you'd be dead by now. Or walking around with no—"
"I don't want to hear it, okay? I still haven't forgotten you shocked me and put me in your trunk. Just like Mr. Chin here did the same thing today."
"That's how we say 'I love you,' Dixon."
"You could send flowers instead."
"I don't like the smell of pollen."
"Dixon, buddy," Sam said, "we need you to make a few passports again."
"I'm not making any of you passports. Aren't you all wanted?"
"Yes, we're all wanted."
"What is it, $50,000 per person? I'm calling you in now."
"Wait, Dixon," Michael said. "Hear us out. We're only going to need three passports. One for Fi, one for Charlie and one for me. Sam and Jesse are staying."
"Who's Charlie?"
"I'm Charlie."
"Oh, you're the kid."
"You're mean."
"I'm mean? I have a right to be mean. These people have treated me horribly because they're not smart enough to make their own spy stuff. I thought you people were spies. You should know everything."
"If I knew everything, I wouldn't be here right now," Jesse said. "I don't know where I'd be, but I wouldn't be here."
"We need these passports. Charlie's my nephew. He's the closest blood relative I have. His father's dead, and his mother isn't strong enough to raise him right now. I don't want to lose him to child protective services."
"And Fiona's going to be the nanny?"
Fiona glared at Dixon. "Do I look like Mary Poppins to you?"
Michael told Dixon about the bombings the other day and how much Charlie and Fiona meant to him.
Dixon squinted after Michael finished his story. "Yeah, you three could pass as a family. I'll make the passports for you. But I need materials. And it's going to take me a few days."
Fiona sighed. "There's always a problem with you, Dixon."
"It's not like I have a magic wand to make these things. I need my computer, my printer, my tripod and my digital camera. But what I really need is three RFID chips. The chips aren't going to work—you can smash them with a hammer—but I need them to sell the passport."
"Where do we go to find these chips?" Sam asked.
"Doral Business Park. A woman by the name of Yael Velázquez sells them. If you need to make a hot passport, you come to her before you even try to make one."
Michael looked at Sam and Jesse.
"I need a couple of living people to pick up the microchips. We ghosts will take care of Dixon until you come back."
"And then we'll visit an old friend of ours. He owes us."
"What about my computer? You want me to stay here and make the passports, right?"
"Dixon, it's fine," Fiona said. "Like Michael said, we're ghosts. We'll drive you back to your place so you can pick up your things. We've got zip ties and duct tape if you try to run away. And I think Sam got us bagels and cream cheese. You'll be comfortable."
Jesse walked into Yael's business, marketed on the outside as a laptop replacement parts store. He dressed up as a stereotypical nerd: coke-bottle glasses, checkered shirt, khaki pants. He walked up to a woman at a receptionist's desk.
"Are you Yael Velázquez?"
"I am."
"I'd like a replacement battery for my laptop."
"Do you have it here?"
"No. I'm a professor of chemistry at Florida International. The labs I use lock down their computers. And I can't find this replacement battery on the internet, so I was hoping you could help me."
Yael slowly nodded. "Okay. What brand of laptop do you have?"
"Um…an IBM Acer."
"You can't have an IBM and an Acer. Either you have an IBM or an Acer. Since you work at FIU, I'm going to guess you have a Lenovo Thinkpad."
"Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"Do you know which model you have?"
"Huh?"
"Which model? Is it X Series? L Series? Edge Series?"
"It's a…X64."
"There isn't an X64 model. Do you mean an X60 or an X61?"
"I meant an X60. Must've gotten my numbers confused in my head."
"Okay. I think we have a few X60 batteries in the back. Let me find it for you. You stay here."
Yael went into the back of the store.
After she was gone a few seconds, Jesse followed her.
It didn’t take long to find the RFID chips. They were in a small box labeled LOOSE LAPTOP KEYS behind Yael's desk. Jesse pocketed the three RFID chips and stood in front of the desk.
"That'll be $42.35."
Jesse paid Yael for the battery.
"Thank you, ma'am."
Jesse left the store.
Yael picked up her cell phone.
"Boys? I just saw the guy that's wanted for that thing on TV. The bald one. I don't know where the others are…no, wait, he's getting into the car with the middle-aged one with the brown hair. If you want a quick 10K, you'd better swarm them now."
Jesse went to Sam's stolen car.
"You know, buddy, I think you oversold the gimmick this time. You're a chemistry professor, not on South Beach in some club during Halloween."
"We don’t have a lot of clothes in our arsenal, Sam. We're lucky we're able to find things from Fiona's storage space. Otherwise we'd do a lot more robbing than we're already doing."
Sam pointed to a police car that parked in front of him.
"Look, Jesse, those guys weren't here when we got here."
"You think Yael pays some police officers to keep her side business quiet?"
Sam nodded. "And she's trying to get some quick cash for her and her lackeys."
"I guess you'd better floor it, Sam."
"I've got no choice."
Sam sped out of the parking lot. Yael's policemen followed them.
Sam drove around the neighborhood the business park was located in. He drove around residential neighborhoods, weaving in and out of the main roads.
Sam led the police car into slow-moving traffic on Okeechobee Road. He then took a hard left into a gas station and drove across its parking lot. The corrupt police car was forced to stay in traffic while Sam was able to drive back to the house for sale.
In a stolen car, Fiona, with Michael, Charlie and Dixon in tow, drove to Dixon's house.
"Get your things and get out," Fiona said. "We shouldn't even be here. We're watching you."
"Okay, okay."
Dixon walked to his house and unlocked it. Aside from the chips, he gathered the things he said he would need to make their passports and put them in a bag.
He stopped in the middle of his house, checking to see if either Michael or Fiona was at the doors. Then he headed for the back door.
Standing at the back door was Fiona was a Taser in her right hand. She shook her head.
"I thought we were building trust, Dixon."
"I was going to run right back out the front door and back in the car."
Fiona made a come hither motion with her left hand. "Your stuff, Dixon."
Dixon gave Fiona his computer stuff.
"Walk towards the car."
Dixon walked towards Fiona's car. He felt the electrodes in Fiona's Taser latch on to his back. Fiona electrocuted him.
Michael came in the house with Charlie.
"Dixon's asleep."
Michael chuckled. "He had an accident."
"Auntie Fi!"
Charlie ran to Fiona. He pointed to her Taser.
"What's that?"
"That's how Dixon had his accident. I’ll explain later."
Fiona looked at Michael. He was frowning.
"Why don't you want to hang around Michael?"
"Uncle Mike's scary."
"He's scary?"
"Yes."
"Because he wasn't around?"
"Yes."
"He's back now. You'll get used to him."
Michael sighed. He picked up Dixon and dragged him to the car.
"Where is Uncle Mike taking Dixon?"
"He's putting him in a place where he can sleep off his accident. But he's coming back with us. Because if he doesn't come back, he's going to find himself without two of his closest friends."
"Friends?"
"I'll have to explain that to you when you get older." She raised her eyebrows. Charlie laughed.
Fiona followed Michael with Charlie and Dixon's computer gear.
Charlie sat for Dixon's camera back at the house for sale. Michael was behind the camera. Charlie was fidgeting in front of it.
"Hold still, Charlie."
Charlie kept fidgeting.
"Hold still."
Fiona walked behind Michael and the camera. She pointed at herself. "Look at me."
Charlie stopped fidgeting. Michael took the photo.
"You can get up now."
Charlie hopped off of the chair he was posing in and ran to one of the house's bedrooms.
"He's still scared of me."
"To be honest, Michael, I'd be scared of you too if I was three and you did what you did. I understand you couldn't see Charlie when Nate was still alive and living in Vegas. But you were working on a CIA mission for nearly a year after Nate died. You missed when Madeline gained custody of Charlie. Since then, you've been in and out of Charlie's life. And you would've been out of his life for good if you took over for James. You should've thought about Charlie before you decided you didn’t have a mother and friends for a few days. Charlie isn't stupid. I'm sure he senses you've done some bad things. James is gone now, and we're fleeing the CIA. I suggest you use your time to try to connect with him instead of asking me to do it."
"How will I do that?"
"Talk to him. How else are you going to convince him you'll be there for him?"
Michael took the memory card out of the camera and handed it to Dixon. Dixon had set up his laptop and was working on Michael's fake passport in Adobe Photoshop.
"How long is this going to take?"
"I should be done by tomorrow. I need time to put your fake details into a flight database. Have you come up with a name, or should I pick one for you? This generator I'm looking at pulled up a Rudolf Winston Mcguire. That sounds reasonable enough.
"No. If I'm going to escape the country, I want the name McBride on all our documents."
"That's it? McBride? Like Bono or Madonna or—"
"No. Michael Alan McBride. And Fiona McBride and Charlie McBride. We're going to pretend to be a married couple with a child. We're the McBrides."
"Michael," Fiona said, "are you sure about this? Does the CIA know your Michael McBride alias?"
Michael shook his head. "I came up with it myself. The CIA doesn't know."
They both smiled at each other. "Well, if I'm going to be Mrs. Fiona McBride, you owe me that Asscher-cut diamond."
"I'll get it for you."
Dixon sighed. "The last thing I needed today was a couple of middle aged sociopaths making googly eyes at each other while I make their passports at gunpoint."
"Oh, did you want me to pull out my gun?" Fiona said.
"No, no."
After the passports were made, Fiona drove Michael, Charlie and Dixon back to Dixon's house, where Dixon was dropped off.
"I hope I never see you again," Dixon yelled from his front door.
"We won't," Fiona mouthed.
Michael gave him a scowl and a stare.
Charlie laughed.
The next day started the same as the day before: Sam went to Miami Dade College to pick up the Chronicle using one of the few outfits left in Fiona's storage unit and took it back to the house for sale, while Charlie was asleep.
"It's still not looking good for us," Sam said. "They're still identifying bodies at the Chronicle and we're all still fugitives on the run. At least we've been bumped off the front page for the decision in a stabbing case. Must be a slow news day."
"We still need fake documents and enough money to get us to where we're going."
"What do you want done today, Mike?"
"Let's get the documents first. We need to swing over by the loft and Fiona's house before we need to see Barry. But we have to wait until Charlie gets up."
The team broke into the AAA Card & Paper store, Michael leading the way with his P30. Fiona followed, walking in with Charlie, and Jesse and Sam followed them. Sam turned the sign on the front of the door from open to closed.
"Oh, no, not again," the clerk at the store said.
"I need a lot of fake documents made right now," Michael said.
"You're gonna have to wait. I've got a few clients ahead of you."
"My girlfriend, my nephew and I are dead to this city. We'd like to stay dead. You're going to make these documents for us now."
"Or what?"
Fiona passed Charlie to Jesse. She grabbed Michael's P30.
"Well, I'm supposed to be dead too." She aimed the P30 at the clerk's nuts. "I remember you called me 'one sick lady.'" She shook her head. "I'm still sick."
The clerk sighed. "Okay. I'll work on your documents. What do you need?"
"Anything we need to become citizens of a foreign country in the future except for passports. We have those."
"What country?"
"I'll whisper it to you. And I have a specific name I want on all our documents. You're to keep it a secret or I tell Fi to…well."
A policeman drove by AAA Card & Paper. At first, it seemed like the policeman was going to drive to wherever he was going to.
The policeman drove by a second time and parked in front of the store. Jesse saw him.
"Guys, we've got company. Like someone who can raise us from the dead company."
"We've got to go," Michael said. He pointed to the clerk. "You keep working."
"You just said a policeman was coming."
"Keep working." Michael stared at the clerk.
Michael picked up Charlie and headed towards the back door of the store with him. The rest of his team followed him.
"I want Auntie Fi."
"You can talk to her after we get out of here."
"Auntie Fi…" Charlie reached for Fiona.
"You've got to be quiet," Michael said as he opened the back door.
The team and Charlie pressed themselves against the right wall of the store. They crept up to the store's entrance and the street. Across from the store was a stolen car, their getaway car.
"Auntie Fi."
"I don't know how to stop him," Michael said to Fiona.
"Scowl at him and say 'Auntie Fi' back."
"Auntie Fi."
"Madeline taught me that. It works, strangely enough. "
Michael scowled at Charlie. "Auntie Fi. Auntie Fi. Auntie Fi."
Charlie stopped talking. He looked at Michael.
"We gotta leave now because we don't want the police looking for us."
"The police are good guys."
"Yes, I know, but they're not good for us right now. I need you to stay quiet until we get to the car. We're going to go somewhere else until the policeman leaves. We might drive around a bit. Then we'll go back to the mean man in the paper store. And after we get done with the mean man in the paper store, Uncle Sam's going to get you some ice cream."
"Strawberry."
"That's right. Strawberry ice cream. And you can play with Auntie Fi when we get back to the house. But for right now, please stay quiet for Uncle Mike, okay? And don't move around until we put you back in the car seat."
"Okay, Uncle Mike."
Michael smiled. "Let's go."
The team headed towards their hot car. Sam and Jesse strapped Charlie in his car seat while Michael drove away.
Michael drove to a pawn shop and parked in front of it.
"Sam, Jesse, I need you two to stay in the car. We're taking Charlie with us."
"This has something to do with your super secret new identify, doesn't it?"
Michael nodded.
Sam unstrapped Charlie from the car seat and handed him to Michael.
"Another shop?"
"Yes, Charlie," Michael said, "another shop. But since we're hiding out from a policeman, I decided to do another errand."
"With Auntie Fi?"
"It's a very important errand."
Michael and Fiona went to the pawn shop's ring section. He put Charlie on the ground. After looking at the rings for a few minutes, he called the pawn shop owner over and pointed at a white gold engagement ring with a huge Asscher-cut diamond in the middle.
"Well? You did say you wanted an Asscher-cut diamond the next time we did this. Right?"
Fiona nodded. "And then we were arrested and almost thrown into jail for murder after that. Those were good times. But it's beautiful, Michael. Even if we're getting it from a pawn shop instead of Tiffany's."
Fiona looked in Michael's eyes. Michael returned the gaze.
Fiona cleared her throat.
"What are you getting?"
"We're getting wedding bands and an engagement ring, Charlie," Fiona said. "We're going to pretend to be married so we can go to Ireland."
"I like Miami."
"I like Miami too, but we can't stay here or Michael and I go to jail and you go somewhere else. And we'd like to be in your life. So we're going to Ireland where there won't be people we know trying to throw us in jail."
"You like Uncle Mike?"
Fiona nodded. "I've always liked Uncle Mike. Loved, actually."
"What about Carlos?"
"It took me a while to realize it, but I've never loved him more than I have your Uncle Mike. Even Carlos knew before I did. That's why you won't see him again."
"Aww."
"But it's okay. I have Uncle Mike now. Forever."
Michael and Fiona smiled at each other.
The pawn shop owner walked to the ring case.
Michael pointed at the engagement ring. "I'd like that ring, and I'd also like that white gold wedding band over here…" He pointed at a men's wedding band with another set of rings. "And I want this wedding band here." He pointed to another white gold wedding band in a set of women's rings. "And I'll give you a large tip if your surveillance tape for the hour broke to the point you couldn't save it."
Michael flashed the pawn shop owner a hundred dollar bill. The pawn shop owner grinned and nodded as he took the hundred dollar bill.
"Hey, Mikey, do you still have that picture of you and Fi at those botanical gardens?" The team and Charlie were in the car.
"No. I burned it in the Dominican Republic."
"And Maddie's copies are all burned to a crisp," Fiona added. "Not to mention it'd look suspicious if we went back to her house to look for a picture of Michael and me."
"Well, that was a stupid thing to do. We're going to need a photo of you two for the funeral."
"Do we really need photos of the two of us for the funeral, Sam?"
Sam shrugged. "We need to sell your bodies being burned in the blast when we tell the CIA about your heroic stand against James. Does anyone have a disposable camera?"
"Sam, we're not the type of people that carry around disposable cameras."
"There's a convenience store up ahead. Pull over."
"Sam."
"It's okay, Mikey. I'll take Jesse in there with me. We're supposed to be acting like fugitives from justice, anyway."
"Sam, I don't think you need a second person to buy a disposable camera."
"Of course I do. I get the camera, and you can get the beer."
"We already have beer."
"We could always use more beer."
Sam and Jesse bought the beer and the camera. They were caught by the surveillance cameras in the convenience store, but since the clerk didn't know who Sam and Jesse were, they were able to walk out of the store in peace.
Michael, his team and Charlie walked into by AAA Card & Paper again.
"Did you finish our documents?" Michael asked the clerk.
"I thought you were gone for good after the policeman made sure I only sold mail packaging, copies, faxes and laminations."
"Fi…"
Fiona almost grabbed Michael's P30 from his back when the clerk said "I'm getting back to work. God, why are all of you so sick?"
"I don't know about the rest of the boys, but if there was a girl's soccer league in place when I was growing up, I might've been a scientist instead."
Michael looked at her. She shrugged at him.
Sam returned to the rented house with another Miami Chronicle.
"They've finally found some bodies in the old Chronicle building."
"That's good, Sam," Michael said.
"The police still don't realize you and Fi were in that building."
"We're running out of time. We need to see Barry, and I need you to look after Fi's and my money. "
"Will do, brother."
To scrap up money for Michael, Fiona's, and Charlie's trip, the team split up in two stolen cars. Sam and Mike drove up to the loft, which had some police surveillance near it. Instead of heading for the loft, Sam drove across from the loft along the Miami River. Mike swam across the river to the loft. He put all the money he could get in a plastic bag and fled the loft before police were able to attempt to break in the loft.
"You're lucky this car's stolen," Sam said to Michael after he got out of the river. "If this was Elsa's car and it got wet, I'd be sleeping on the roof of her penthouse."
Charlie still preferred to hang out with his Auntie Fi, so they went back to her house with Jesse. The three fared better than Michael and Sam, as the police weren't watching her house as much as Michael's loft.
Whatever money Fiona could grab and throw in a duffel bag she took out of the house. And she grabbed one of her snow globes. It was one of the few she kept before Michael and she blew up their loft. The snow globe had a miniature scene of Miami in it and the words "MIAMI, FLORIDA" in an Art Deco-like font at the bottom.
The team met in front of Barry's house. In Sam and Michael's stolen car, the team combined all the money they could find in the back seat of the car. Charlie hung onto Fiona's leg and watched the money being counted.
"Okay, Mikey, that's around $750,000. Will that be enough to get you where you're going?"
"It should be. When the money's converted, it should be enough to help get us a new place and a new car to where we're going."
Michael pulled out the snow globe from Fiona's duffel bag. "Fi…"
"I wanted a reminder of the last job I did before I left Miami."
"The last job you did in Miami. Fi, the last jobs you did in Miami were with Carlos."
Fiona shook her head. "No, Michael. The last job I did in Miami was saving you from yourself and getting you the hell out of here. And if my phone rang and I was asked to take care of you in a shoddy motel north of the city, I'd do it again." Fiona nodded. “Thanks for making me your emergency contact.”
Michael put the snow globe back in the duffel bag. "Fair enough. I'm going to keep an eye on it. Barry might actually want this."
Michael and Sam put the money back in Fiona's duffel bag. From there, the team headed to Barry's front door.
Barry opened his front door with a robe on. He froze when he saw Michael's team and Charlie at his doorstep.
"This is my day off. You'll have to come back later."
Barry shut the door.
Michael rang the doorbell again. Barry answered it.
"I said this is my day off."
"Barry, we've known you for so long," Fiona said.
"We can't come back later," Michael said. "If I'm not presumed dead in a few days, I'm going to prison for a long time. And my nephew will be an orphan."
"You didn't care about whether I went to prison. It's always about you and your friends. It's never about me."
"What can I do to make it up to you, Barry? Not like I should, but I'll do anything."
Barry's eyebrows perked up. "You said you were faking your death?"
Michael nodded. "With Fi and Charlie."
"Can I attend your funeral? Even if you're not dead, I'd love to see the demise of the great Michael Westen."
"Done. Now can we come in so you can smurf some money?"
"Where to?"
Aside from Charlie running around Barry's house and Michael scooping him up before he could annihilate Barry's hard drives, the $750,000 was smurfed in several different banks all over the world. The $750,000 was reunited in a Swiss bank under an account with Michael's McBride alias.
There was one more day left for Michael's team to be together; it would be at the airport. Last minute preparations were made. Fiona and Michael got clothes from her storage bins and put them in checked luggage, along with Fiona's snow globe. They also made sure to get a few clothes for Charlie. Sam made sure the duffel bag he had from James' Chronicle hideout, as well as a couple of carry-on bags for himself and Jesse. Unlike Michael, Fiona and Charlie's bags, Sam and Jesse's carry-ons were filled with the clothes they used during their various jobs between the Chronicle bombing and the airport and old Miami Chronicles.
The day Michael, Fiona and Charlie were to leave at the airport, Sam put down the last ever Miami Chronicle the three would see on the rented house's table.
Sam shook his head. "You and Fi still aren't dead, Mikey."
"Let's go," Michael said.
And with that, Michael, Fiona and Charlie took a stolen car to Miami International. Sam and Jesse took another car and followed them.
They all met in the furthest parking deck at Miami International. Michael, Fiona and Charlie were wearing large hats, sunglasses and scarves. Charlie was pulling off his sunglasses.
"Charlie, you can't take those off until we get to where we're going."
"Is Grandma there?"
Fiona lowered herself to Charlie's height. "She's gone, Charlie. For good. She died protecting Uncle Jesse and you."
"We won't see her again?"
"No. But she's watching over us right now. She'll make sure we get there safely." She put Charlie's glasses back on his face. "Keep those on, okay?"
"Okay, Auntie Fi."
Michael took in a sharp inhale of breath. "Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye. And I hope it's not forever. Sam, Jesse, you know what to do, right?"
"We went over the plan ten times last night," Jesse said. "I don't think I can stand another drill."
"Life's going to be strange without you two around."
"As much as I hate to admit it, Fi, you've rubbed off on me. I wouldn't have done everything we've done together without you."
"The feeling's mutual, Sam."
"On behalf of Michael and myself, I'm sorry our relationship didn't go exactly the way you wanted it, Jesse," Fiona said.
"Actually, I'm happy it did go this way. Without you three, I'd still be in an office job bored out of my mind. I'd be glad to go to jail for you just so you three can be free."
"Hey, you know we can't leave without hugs, Mikey."
Michael, his team and Charlie hugged each other for the last time.
The last two people to hug each other were Sam and Fiona. Fiona leaned close into Sam's ear. "You're next."
After their hug, she pointed to the Assher-cut diamond and wedding band on her finger. She raised her eyebrows.
Fiona went back down to Charlie's level. "Say goodbye to your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Jesse before they leave."
Charlie waved. "Bye, Uncle Sam. Bye, Uncle Jesse."
"Goodbye, Charlie," they both said.
"We promise to send a postcard when the coast's clear," Michael added.
The two walked towards Miami International, heading towards Concourse J.
They found themselves waiting in line at the ticket counter for Aerolíneas Argentinas.
"This better not take long," Jesse said. "People are going to notice two adults and a child standing around a parking lot."
"Don't worry. After these three people, we’ll be at the ticket counter."
"I don't think you can take a bag that full on an airline." Jesse pointed to the person at the ticket counter with a bulging carry-on bag. "And that woman is giving the ticketing officer hell."
Indeed, the woman with the carry-on was fighting with the ticketing officer and some of her co-workers. The woman was even fighting with the person putting bags in the plane's cargo, and it even devolved into the two of them playing tug-of-war with said carry-on. In the end, the airline succeeded and put the carry-on into the plane's cargo.
The other two people got their tickets without a problem. Sam and Jesse were at the ticket counter.
Sam put his identification on the ticket counter. "Two tickets to Buenos Aires. The best seats you have left."
"Who will be purchasing these tickets, sir?"
"Samuel Axe."
The ticketing officer made Sam and Jesse their tickets. The two then walked to the security lines.
"If we go through security and they don't stop us, Mike and Fi will really be screwed."
"Why are you so worried?"
"I don't know. I mean, the last time anyone paid attention to a criminal at this airport, it was when that Colombian guy got stabbed with a bayonet. And that was when I was a kid."
"So you're saying that for us to get noticed here, we'd need to get stabbed by a bayonet."
"Exactly."
"You do have the camera, right?"
"Of course. The real question is do we have an ethereal picture of Mikey and Fi embracing underneath some palm trees and cloudy skies, or do we have pictures of Charlie trying to grab our camera?"
"Let's hope it's the former."
Sam and Jesse went through security: their bodies were sprayed to make sure nothing dangerous was on them and their bags and burner phones were x-rayed.
Before they could reach the nearby newsstand overlooking the security checkpoint, two Miami-Dade policemen met them with guns in their faces. For once, the security checkpoint stopped what it was doing. People hopped out of line to not only see Sam, Jesse and the policemen, but the luggage forming piles at the x-ray machines.
"Hands up! On your knees!"
Sam and Jesse did what they were told. The policemen put the two in handcuffs. They were smiling.
"You two have the right to remain silent when questioned," the man handcuffing Sam said. "Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police…"
In the parking lots of the airport, a female voice, over the parking lot's loudspeakers, said: "If you have just arrived to MIA, we have a disturbance at Concourse J."
Michael, Fiona and Charlie headed to Concourse E.
"Local police are taking care of the situation, but please be aware going through security near Concourse J may take a while. If your flight is not already delayed, we will not delay your flight so you will make your flight."
"Here goes nothing," Fiona said. "Charlie, stay close to us, okay? If we're lucky, we should get through customs and security in around two hours."
"Okay, Auntie Fi."
"Feel free to go to a different security checkpoint to get to your flight and make sure you allow yourself ample time to get there. Once again, we will not hold your flight because of the disturbance and holdup at Concourse J."
"Thanks, Sam and Jesse," Michael said under his breath.
"If you have gone through or are passing through security near Concourse J and your luggage has been ruined as a consequence of the security holdup, please see a TSA agent as soon as possible so they may direct you to any replacement goods you need, including luggage bags. Thank you, and please enjoy your stay at MIA."
Michael, Fiona and Charlie had to wait for a ticketing officer at British Airways. When it was their time to get tickets, Michael flashed his fake passport to the ticketing officer.
"Three tickets to Heathrow. Two adults, one child."
The ticketing officer looked at Michael's passport. "You look like one of those fugitives that have been on the local news."
Michael nodded and gave an awkward smile. "I do."
"I'm sure it's a coincidence. Your names don't even match. I've got three seats I haven't sold together. I could put you three there. You don't have any problems with center seats, do you?"
"I have much bigger problems, miss."
Sam and Jesse were taken into separate questioning rooms at the police station.
"I told you," Jesse said to a detective, "I was in Coconut Grove when the explosion happened. The last time I saw Mike and Fi was when we split up before the explosion."
"Yeah, Mikey and Fi were with me at the old Chronicle building," Sam said to another detective. "The plan was to get the CIA proof James was running his own secret organization. But we had to split up. I decided to get the bag, and Mike and Fi were going to stop James and hand him over to the CIA. We didn't know the son of a bitch had a kill switch on him and he was going to blow the whole damn building up."
"So you believe Mr. Westen and Ms. Glenanne perished in the Chronicle building, even though we haven't been able to find their bodies at the site."
"I haven't seen them since the day we went in the building. I met up with Jesse after the explosion to make sure they weren't with them, and guess what? They weren't."
"Why were you and Mr. Porter leaving for Buenos Aires?"
"We were considering turning the evidence in to Strong, but the guy's a maniac. He doesn't know the meaning of negotiation. He's going to berate us and throw us in jail, no matter what we do, and his attitude just cost the lives of my best friends."
"Thank you, Mr. Axe. The CIA will be here shortly to collect you and Mr. Porter to a holding facility. You will be taken and held at the facility separately from Mr. Porter. Your stay will be indefinite."
"If we ever get out of prison, I'm going to throw the best damn funeral for my friends that I can and you can't stop me!"
A month later, Fiona led Charlie out to the "McBride" family SUV. The SUV was the first thing Michael bought when the money that was smurfed to him from Barry was in its banks. A cottage was the second thing Michael purchased.
"I hate that hotel." The hotel in question was cheap and seedy, a place most travelers on travel websites hated and most writers of travel guidebooks would ignore. It was a perfect place for Michael, Fiona and Charlie to lay low while the two acquired their SUV and cottage.
"I hated it too, Charlie, but we needed a place to stay after we left Miami. And I didn't want to bother your uncles."
"I have more uncles?"
"You do..." Fiona sighed. "But I can't ever see them again. If I do, they might die. I'll explain it when you're older. For right now, let's say your Auntie Fi has done some bad things she regrets. But enough about that. Let's get you in your car seat."
"Uncle Mike..."
"I know you're still apprehensive of Uncle Mike. But you'll like him someday, I promise."
Fiona opened the SUV's left door, behind where Michael was sitting in the driver's seat, and strapped Charlie in his car seat.
Fiona sat beside Michael in the SUV.
"He's still wary of me."
Charlie didn't hear what Michael said.
"Give him time. He'll trust you. He's young, but you're making an effort now. I'm proud of you, Michael."
Michael frowned and drove away from the hotel's parking lot.
"It's getting late, Fi. We should head over to the docks to watch the sun set."
"Over the Irish Sea."
"Over the Irish Sea," Michael repeated.
And it was a peaceful ride to the docks. That is, until a car passed the SUV.
The car stopped in front of the SUV, forcing Michael to stop and pull the SUV over.
A guy with a bandanna on his face aimed at Michael's window with a Walther PPK.
"Roll your window down." The robber was a local; he spoke in an urban Irish dialect.
Michael didn't roll his window down when the robber told him to.
"I said, roll your window down."
Michael rolled his window down. Fiona and he put their hands in the air.
"We don't have to do this." Michael put on his pleading voice for his performance. My wife and my son are in this SUV. They shouldn't see me get shot. They shouldn't even see your gun."
"I don't care about your bloody family, man. Give me your money and I'll let you go."
"Is money more important to you than keeping a family together? Is it?"
"Yes it is, you wanker."
"Duck, Fi!"
Fiona ducked. Charlie started to scream and cry.
Michael moved to his right. He grabbed the robber's Walther with his right hand, keeping the barrel away from Charlie and Fiona. With his left hand, he choked the robber. Michael twisted the robber's wrist until the robber was screaming in pain. The robber dropped the Walther in Michael's hand. Michael put the gun on the SUV's dash and hit the robber with his car door, knocking him to the street. Charlie stopped crying and screaming.
"Coast is clear, Fi."
Fiona came up from the SUV's floor.
"Charlie, are you okay?"
"Yes, Uncle Mike."
"I didn't expect that to happen, Charlie. I'm sorry that man scared you." He turned to Fiona. "Fi, I got you a gift."
Fiona grinned. "It's just like the one I left in Miami. You think I can keep it?"
"I'm sure our friend won't need it for a long time. Did you pack duct tape?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You grab the duct tape. I'm going to grab Charlie and make sure our friend doesn't get away before we're done with him.
Michael and Fiona got out of the SUV. She slid the Walther in her jeans.
While Fiona opened the back door of the SUV and went through her luggage to get duct tape, Michael put his right foot on the robber's back. He took Charlie out of his car seat. Charlie hugged Michael.
"Uncle Mike saved me."
Michael blinked. He hesitated before he talked back to Charlie.
"I did. I did save you and your Auntie Fi."
"Uncle Mike's my hero."
"I am."
Michael patted his back.
Fiona met Michael, Charlie and the robber with the duct tape. "Charlie, we're going to show you how to duct tape an intruder. You won't need to remember this, but you should pay attention."
"Okay, Auntie Fi."
"Michael, grab his wrists."
Michael dragged the robber's body behind the SUV. There, Fiona tied the robber's ankles together with the tape, followed by his wrists with the aid of Michael. Charlie touched where Fiona placed the tape on the robber's ankles. Fiona had broken the tape near the robber's ankles in case Charlie found the tape's seams and started to unravel it. The last piece of tape went on the robber's mouth.
"You know what would be a nice touch, Fi?"
"This guy has a car. I still have my lockpicks. You want him in the truck but with the trunk open."
"Ten years and you still know me well, Fi."
Fiona went back to the SUV's trunk and pulled out her lockpicks. She picked open the robber's trunk. Michael dragged the robber to the trunk and put him in it.
"I also don't suggest learning how to pick locks unless you have to," Fiona said to Charlie, squatting down. "But if you want to learn, I wouldn't be opposed to that."
"We'd better go, Fi."
Michael grabbed Charlie and strapped him in his car seat. Fiona put the duct tape and lock picks back in her back.
The three of them rode away in the SUV, leaving the robber tied up in the trunk, visible to all who drove by the road.
After getting delayed by the robber, Michael, Fiona and Charlie made it to the Dublin docks to watch the sun set. Michael and Fiona sat by the dock and held hands. Meanwhile, Michael held Charlie's hand, to keep him from accidentally jumping into the water.
"It's not seeing the Irish Sea in the morning, but you still look beautiful, Fi."
"And you look beautiful too, Michael."
"Hug me, Uncle Mike."
Fiona chuckled. "I guess he's growing to like you now."
Michael hugged Charlie.
"Uncle Mike's my hero."
"I am. I am your hero."
Charlie sat in Michael's lap. Michael and Fiona kissed; it was a peck.
"Ewwww."
"It was only a kiss, Charlie," Fiona said.
"Gross kiss."
"You know I love your Uncle Mike. Occasionally I'm going to kiss him. I kiss him because I love him and I want to show it."
"Gross kiss."
"You'll get used to it someday."
Charlie had fallen asleep in his car seat when Michael and Fiona arrived for the first time at their new home. The cottage was very close to the southern border of South Dublin County. It was far from the nearest town in County Dublin, Ballyboden, let alone the city of Dublin.
Michael stopped the car just short of the cottage's entrance.
"We're here," he said.
"This is what I've always dreamed of for years, Michael. I'm so glad we found this place."
"I'm glad too, Fi."
"I wonder what we're going to do in there?" She put her head on Michael's right shoulder.
"We've got to raise Charlie."
"He can go to preschool, and then when he gets older we can send him to primary school."
"We need money to send him to school, Fi. And we'll need money to keep the cottage and SUV working."
"I'd like money to buy some more art supplies, and I can paint pictures of Charlie and you."
"We're taking clients, aren't we? I can't imagine you selling guns again."
"No, I can't sell guns again. But we can talk to our clients in Dublin or Ballyboden. If they need a place to stay for a while, we can drive them here. They'll be safe from the bad guys."
"We're working together. Just like you wanted, Fi."
"Just like I wanted." Fiona took in a breath. "We're finally home, Michael."
"We're finally home."
Michael and Fiona got out of their SUV. Michael took Charlie out of his car seat, and the three took the first steps toward their new life.
