Burn Notice fic: Ex-MI6
Title: Ex-MI6 | AO3
Fandom: Burn Notice
Wordcount: 550
Rating: General Audiences
Character(s): Michael, Fiona
Contains: no content warnings apply
Prompt(s):
trope_bingo: role reversal
fic_promptly: Burn Notice, Fiona; Michael, angry, C4
Notes: Oops, I ficced a thing in an hour or so today? But I've always wondered what would've happened if Fiona was actually a spy with a spy agency, so...
Summary: Fiona woke up in a motel room outside Miami with Michael by her side. Role reversal AU (Fiona is a government spy; Michael is an ex-gang member [in lieu of a terrorist]). Also an AU version of Michael and Fiona's first scene in the pilot.
The first thing Fiona saw after blacking out on her plane from Warri was Michael's face.
He was sitting beside her, a sad look on his face. The two of them were in a motel room.
"Where am I?" Fiona asked. She had a London accent.
"Miami."
"Miami? Why am I in Miami?"
"I got tired of Boston, Fi. It felt like all the gangs were against me. The Patriarcas. The Winter Hill Gang. The newer, smaller street gangs. Even my old gang."
"The Dougal Gang?"
"They know I worked with you. I'm as good as dead to them now.
"My mom moved to Miami years ago. I told her I would move down there to help her, but I've been avoiding her since I got here."
"Why?"
"I'd rather sit in a cave under the earth than talk to my mom."
Fiona frowned. "Okay."
"A flight attendant found you passed out on a plane headed to Boston. I decided to fly up there one last time to get you."
"And then you rented a motel room we could share until I woke up. How sweet. But I don't have time to spend time with you. MI6 has just burned me."
Michael was disappointed, but other than a frown, he didn't show it.
"Burned you?"
"They think I'm an unreliable agent, so they ceased my operation right when I was trying to do it. But I don't know what I did. One moment I'm trying to make a deal on behalf of MI6 to some Nigerians. The next minute I get a phone call saying I'm burned. I ran out of the Warri Grand Hotel, stole a motorbike and managed to make it onto a flight I thought would take me back to London. I need to find out if I can still access my accounts. Where's the financial district here?"
"Brickell."
Fiona nodded. "I'll be heading over there soon. And I might need directions to the British Embassy around here, too. But--" She cleared her throat.
"If I can fool a bunch of Irish gangsters into thinking I'm ex-IRA..." She said this in an Irish brogue.
"I can fool a bunch of Americans into thinking I'm American." She said this, along with the rest of her chat with Michael, in a general American accent. "Might be helpful if I'm talking to American bankers, right?"
Michael laughed nervously. "Right."
Fiona climbed out of bed and checked the window of the motel room. "There's a squad car outside the motel. Cute, but I'd like to get out of this hotel without attracting attention from the police."
"What are you going to do?"
"Actually, Michael, it's what you're going to do. You're going to do the same things we did when you were my asset. You're going to pretend like you're somebody--oh, I don't know, pick any person in the world--and you're going to annoy those policemen outside so I can get down to Brickell. Be nice. Get angry. If you brought a slab of C4, blow something up. I don't know. Do something. Now get going. I don't think I want to meet a banker in Brickell with blood in my hair."
Michael sighed. Maybe he had some C4 in his dad's Charger somewhere. That would do the trick.
This entry was originally posted at http://merryghoul.dreamwidth.org/256921.html. Comments on either site are fine.
Fandom: Burn Notice
Wordcount: 550
Rating: General Audiences
Character(s): Michael, Fiona
Contains: no content warnings apply
Prompt(s):
trope_bingo: role reversal
fic_promptly: Burn Notice, Fiona; Michael, angry, C4
Notes: Oops, I ficced a thing in an hour or so today? But I've always wondered what would've happened if Fiona was actually a spy with a spy agency, so...
Summary: Fiona woke up in a motel room outside Miami with Michael by her side. Role reversal AU (Fiona is a government spy; Michael is an ex-gang member [in lieu of a terrorist]). Also an AU version of Michael and Fiona's first scene in the pilot.
The first thing Fiona saw after blacking out on her plane from Warri was Michael's face.
He was sitting beside her, a sad look on his face. The two of them were in a motel room.
"Where am I?" Fiona asked. She had a London accent.
"Miami."
"Miami? Why am I in Miami?"
"I got tired of Boston, Fi. It felt like all the gangs were against me. The Patriarcas. The Winter Hill Gang. The newer, smaller street gangs. Even my old gang."
"The Dougal Gang?"
"They know I worked with you. I'm as good as dead to them now.
"My mom moved to Miami years ago. I told her I would move down there to help her, but I've been avoiding her since I got here."
"Why?"
"I'd rather sit in a cave under the earth than talk to my mom."
Fiona frowned. "Okay."
"A flight attendant found you passed out on a plane headed to Boston. I decided to fly up there one last time to get you."
"And then you rented a motel room we could share until I woke up. How sweet. But I don't have time to spend time with you. MI6 has just burned me."
Michael was disappointed, but other than a frown, he didn't show it.
"Burned you?"
"They think I'm an unreliable agent, so they ceased my operation right when I was trying to do it. But I don't know what I did. One moment I'm trying to make a deal on behalf of MI6 to some Nigerians. The next minute I get a phone call saying I'm burned. I ran out of the Warri Grand Hotel, stole a motorbike and managed to make it onto a flight I thought would take me back to London. I need to find out if I can still access my accounts. Where's the financial district here?"
"Brickell."
Fiona nodded. "I'll be heading over there soon. And I might need directions to the British Embassy around here, too. But--" She cleared her throat.
"If I can fool a bunch of Irish gangsters into thinking I'm ex-IRA..." She said this in an Irish brogue.
"I can fool a bunch of Americans into thinking I'm American." She said this, along with the rest of her chat with Michael, in a general American accent. "Might be helpful if I'm talking to American bankers, right?"
Michael laughed nervously. "Right."
Fiona climbed out of bed and checked the window of the motel room. "There's a squad car outside the motel. Cute, but I'd like to get out of this hotel without attracting attention from the police."
"What are you going to do?"
"Actually, Michael, it's what you're going to do. You're going to do the same things we did when you were my asset. You're going to pretend like you're somebody--oh, I don't know, pick any person in the world--and you're going to annoy those policemen outside so I can get down to Brickell. Be nice. Get angry. If you brought a slab of C4, blow something up. I don't know. Do something. Now get going. I don't think I want to meet a banker in Brickell with blood in my hair."
Michael sighed. Maybe he had some C4 in his dad's Charger somewhere. That would do the trick.
This entry was originally posted at http://merryghoul.dreamwidth.org/256921.html. Comments on either site are fine.