Burn Notice Fic: Dún Laoghaire
Posted to burnnotice
Title: Dún Laoghaire (Sequel to Eire)
Series/Universe: Eire
Pairing/Characters: Michael/Fiona, OC
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Pilot
Summary: How Michael and Fiona first hooked up in Ireland
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
The first thing you learn as a spy is not to rush new relationships. People are wary of newcomers and for good reason. Look too eager and you're surely a plant. But if you don't engage you won't get anywhere near the inner circle. The key is to make them come to you. And for that to happen, you've got to have something they want.
I've found money comes in handy to most people.
So when your cover story is to inherit a restaurant supply company? It doesn't hurt to find out the grandfather who was running the place was also running a money laundering business on the side.
Criminals? They have lots of money. It's just hard to spend when it's dirty.
So complain about your woes over a pint and any enterprising criminal will offer to give you a hand with your 'problem.'
-|
"I don't know about this." Michael tried to seem worried. "Is it safe around here?"
By day Dún Laoghaire's waterfront was trolled by fishermen and tourists alike. By night the warehouse district looked way too foreboding for anyone to go wandering around, especially unarmed.
"Ah, nothing to fear," Alistair assured him with a careless wave of his hand. "That's why we come all the way out here. No one gives you any troubles."
He punched in a code then opened up a wide rolling door to a warehouse in the furthest row back from the seaport.
In the blackness inside Michael heard the cocking of a gun and by the sounds of it something at least semi-automatic if not a machine gun.
"Now then, girl. It's just Blackie and Michael. Don't go shooting us for no reason."
Fiona stepped forward out of the darkness, wielding a Steyr TMP machine pistol.
Michael wasn't sure what was hotter: Fiona wielding the gun like it was an extension of her body or the skin baring halter dress that skimmed her curves like a lover's hand.
"Oh, trust me," she purred, lowering the gun only slightly. "If I'd have had a reason to shoot you neither of you'd be up and walking around right now."
Alastair clapped a paternal hand on Fiona's shoulder. "Our girl here's an ace shot. Bloody good with explosives too."
"What can I say?" Fiona's eyes met Michael's as a delightfully wicked smirk played across her lips. "I like playing with the big toys."
"I prefer guns that are pointed away from me," Michael said pointedly, holding his position at the entry to the warehouse until Alastair nodded to her and she lowered the barrel to point to the floor. "So where's this guy you wanted me to meet?"
"Patience," Alastair cautioned. "We did a fair amount of backtracking to lose any tails before I brought you here. Now I need to go do the same to bring him." He gestured, leading them further back to where some sofas were set up next to some lamps and coffee tables in a sort of odd living room arrangement in the middle of the warehouse shelves. "Fiona will keep you company while I'm gone. Shan't be more than an hour."
"An hour?" Michael let out a breath at Alastair's reproachful glare. "An hour then."
"Right, lad. You two stay out of trouble while I'm gone, eh?" He let out a lusty chuckle then headed out, leaving them behind. "If anyone shows up who isn't me, you know what to do!"
"Shoot first and figure out where to hide the bodies later!" Fiona called back playfully just before the warehouse door rolled shut.
Michael heard the sound of the lock engaging and fought down a little rush of adrenaline at the idea of being locked in.
"Well, I guess we've got an hour to kill." He looked around and saw a little kitchen area complete with tiny refrigerator. "Got any yogurt?"
"We've got Scotch, Scotch, Scotch and ice," Fiona intoned, putting her gun aside on one of the tables. "Don't get many visitors here." She slipped off her high heels and settled herself on one of the sofas, her incredibly long legs catching the light as she stretched them out across the cushions.
Michael settled himself on the other sofa, making a point of staying away from her gun so as not to spook her.
"What, no long hours playing cards to pass the time between crimes?" he snarked. "I thought that's what all the bad guys do in the movies."
"Bad guys perhaps..." Fiona got up, her movements languid and sensual like a cat. "But I'm a bad girl." She walked over and sat astride Michael's lap, facing him. "We make our own kinds of fun," she breathed into his neck, letting her lips skim up his heated skin.
"If this is some kind of test?" Michael took her by the biceps and pushed her a good six inches back. "I don't play around. I'm not going to risk Blackie putting a bullet in me because I went behind his back with his girl."
To his surprise Fiona just burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"Oh, that's... That's just..." A new fit of giggles came over her. It took her a minute to recover, mirth still clear on her face. "Blackie's kin. I'd no sooner date him than I would my father." She ground down on his lap. "But if you turn down this body for no reason? You're either gay or a cop - neither of which is going to go well for you with this crowd."
"I'm not gay nor a cop," Michael asserted. "And if you're not with Blackie - or anyone else that will put a bullet in me for messing around with you..."
"Free agent," Fiona swore. "Always have been, always will." Her voice lowered into a breathy register. "Who I fuck for fun is my business and nobody else's. And you, Michael Corley? You look like fun."
"In that case..." Michael tightened his grip on her arms and flipped Fiona abruptly so that her back was on the sofa and his body was above hers, pinning her. The shock on her face dissolved into a delighted smile and she wrapped her legs around Michael's in invitation. "We've got the better part of an hour to kill, don't we?"
-|
Most crime syndicates have hoops new people have to jump through to prove themselves. Usually it's participating in minor crimes so you seem just as dirty as they are. Other times it's living the kind of lifestyle they expect. No cop with a wife, 2.3 kids and a dog at home is going to do any of these things so they figure they're safe.
They don't count on those of us who aren't cops and who don't have 2.3 kids at home to worry about.
Some spies don't mind the occasional lavish lifestyle crime or mind blowing sex with someone incredibly hot who just happens to drop into your lap.
We figure it's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.
The really tough job is not getting attached to anyone along the way.
-|-
Title: Dún Laoghaire (Sequel to Eire)
Series/Universe: Eire
Pairing/Characters: Michael/Fiona, OC
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Pilot
Summary: How Michael and Fiona first hooked up in Ireland
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ
The first thing you learn as a spy is not to rush new relationships. People are wary of newcomers and for good reason. Look too eager and you're surely a plant. But if you don't engage you won't get anywhere near the inner circle. The key is to make them come to you. And for that to happen, you've got to have something they want.
I've found money comes in handy to most people.
So when your cover story is to inherit a restaurant supply company? It doesn't hurt to find out the grandfather who was running the place was also running a money laundering business on the side.
Criminals? They have lots of money. It's just hard to spend when it's dirty.
So complain about your woes over a pint and any enterprising criminal will offer to give you a hand with your 'problem.'
-|
"I don't know about this." Michael tried to seem worried. "Is it safe around here?"
By day Dún Laoghaire's waterfront was trolled by fishermen and tourists alike. By night the warehouse district looked way too foreboding for anyone to go wandering around, especially unarmed.
"Ah, nothing to fear," Alistair assured him with a careless wave of his hand. "That's why we come all the way out here. No one gives you any troubles."
He punched in a code then opened up a wide rolling door to a warehouse in the furthest row back from the seaport.
In the blackness inside Michael heard the cocking of a gun and by the sounds of it something at least semi-automatic if not a machine gun.
"Now then, girl. It's just Blackie and Michael. Don't go shooting us for no reason."
Fiona stepped forward out of the darkness, wielding a Steyr TMP machine pistol.
Michael wasn't sure what was hotter: Fiona wielding the gun like it was an extension of her body or the skin baring halter dress that skimmed her curves like a lover's hand.
"Oh, trust me," she purred, lowering the gun only slightly. "If I'd have had a reason to shoot you neither of you'd be up and walking around right now."
Alastair clapped a paternal hand on Fiona's shoulder. "Our girl here's an ace shot. Bloody good with explosives too."
"What can I say?" Fiona's eyes met Michael's as a delightfully wicked smirk played across her lips. "I like playing with the big toys."
"I prefer guns that are pointed away from me," Michael said pointedly, holding his position at the entry to the warehouse until Alastair nodded to her and she lowered the barrel to point to the floor. "So where's this guy you wanted me to meet?"
"Patience," Alastair cautioned. "We did a fair amount of backtracking to lose any tails before I brought you here. Now I need to go do the same to bring him." He gestured, leading them further back to where some sofas were set up next to some lamps and coffee tables in a sort of odd living room arrangement in the middle of the warehouse shelves. "Fiona will keep you company while I'm gone. Shan't be more than an hour."
"An hour?" Michael let out a breath at Alastair's reproachful glare. "An hour then."
"Right, lad. You two stay out of trouble while I'm gone, eh?" He let out a lusty chuckle then headed out, leaving them behind. "If anyone shows up who isn't me, you know what to do!"
"Shoot first and figure out where to hide the bodies later!" Fiona called back playfully just before the warehouse door rolled shut.
Michael heard the sound of the lock engaging and fought down a little rush of adrenaline at the idea of being locked in.
"Well, I guess we've got an hour to kill." He looked around and saw a little kitchen area complete with tiny refrigerator. "Got any yogurt?"
"We've got Scotch, Scotch, Scotch and ice," Fiona intoned, putting her gun aside on one of the tables. "Don't get many visitors here." She slipped off her high heels and settled herself on one of the sofas, her incredibly long legs catching the light as she stretched them out across the cushions.
Michael settled himself on the other sofa, making a point of staying away from her gun so as not to spook her.
"What, no long hours playing cards to pass the time between crimes?" he snarked. "I thought that's what all the bad guys do in the movies."
"Bad guys perhaps..." Fiona got up, her movements languid and sensual like a cat. "But I'm a bad girl." She walked over and sat astride Michael's lap, facing him. "We make our own kinds of fun," she breathed into his neck, letting her lips skim up his heated skin.
"If this is some kind of test?" Michael took her by the biceps and pushed her a good six inches back. "I don't play around. I'm not going to risk Blackie putting a bullet in me because I went behind his back with his girl."
To his surprise Fiona just burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"Oh, that's... That's just..." A new fit of giggles came over her. It took her a minute to recover, mirth still clear on her face. "Blackie's kin. I'd no sooner date him than I would my father." She ground down on his lap. "But if you turn down this body for no reason? You're either gay or a cop - neither of which is going to go well for you with this crowd."
"I'm not gay nor a cop," Michael asserted. "And if you're not with Blackie - or anyone else that will put a bullet in me for messing around with you..."
"Free agent," Fiona swore. "Always have been, always will." Her voice lowered into a breathy register. "Who I fuck for fun is my business and nobody else's. And you, Michael Corley? You look like fun."
"In that case..." Michael tightened his grip on her arms and flipped Fiona abruptly so that her back was on the sofa and his body was above hers, pinning her. The shock on her face dissolved into a delighted smile and she wrapped her legs around Michael's in invitation. "We've got the better part of an hour to kill, don't we?"
-|
Most crime syndicates have hoops new people have to jump through to prove themselves. Usually it's participating in minor crimes so you seem just as dirty as they are. Other times it's living the kind of lifestyle they expect. No cop with a wife, 2.3 kids and a dog at home is going to do any of these things so they figure they're safe.
They don't count on those of us who aren't cops and who don't have 2.3 kids at home to worry about.
Some spies don't mind the occasional lavish lifestyle crime or mind blowing sex with someone incredibly hot who just happens to drop into your lap.
We figure it's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.
The really tough job is not getting attached to anyone along the way.
-|-