Probably just mindless fluff, but I was inspired. It's been on my computer for a while so I don't remember what I was inspired by, but I had fun writing it.

Thunk. Then silence and the lights went out, all except for the emergency lights. Great, because this was exactly where he wanted to be.

Michael and Fiona had just been scoping out the hotel room of another man who wanted to kill him. The problem was that his hotel room was on the fourteenth floor and after searching the room they had figured out that he wasn't really that much of a threat. They had gotten back into the elevator, a little annoyed to say the least, and 2 and a half floors down it had suddenly stopped.

Sighing in irritation, he picked up the emergency phone and got nothing. Assuming the power was out, he checked the blue lights behind the railing and found them to be small battery operated bulbs supplemented by glow in the dark strips. "Looks like we're stuck in here, Fi."

"I can see that Michael," she replied, picking up the emergency phone again and banging it a few times against the wall in frustration. "Cell phone?" she asked him after reaching for her own. "I've got nothing."

He flipped his open and held it up as if that would somehow improve reception. "Me neither." He closed his phone and slipped it back into his pants pocket. Not one to sit and wait in a situation like this, Fi started looking around.

"Try the escape hatch," she suggested, pointing up at the ceiling. Michael used her shoulder and the wall for support as he climbed up onto the rail and pushed aside one of the sub-ceiling tiles to reveal the hatch-like door. He pushed the bright red handle to one side and forced the door up. His head and most of his shoulders stuck through, allowing him to see the shaft in the minimal lighting from the emergency lights inside the car. It seeped through around his body and, if he squinted, he could just make out the bottom of a door about five feet above his head. There was no way they could get enough leverage to open the doors on that floor or the one they had been in the process of passing. If they managed to get the interior doors open they wouldn't be able to get leverage for the doors on the other side considering how much of them would be in reach. They were well and truly stuck.

Resignedly, he popped back through the hatch and shut it. He dropped back onto the floor and faced his companion. "Nope. Can barely see the door and neither of them provide much leverage for us to get them open. Even if we could get the upper one to open we wouldn't be able to get through it. Too high. One of us would still be stuck here." She nodded thoughtfully.

"You can just leave me, again. It's safer for you that way. No one will ever know you were here," she suggested. Michael winced at her bitter tone.

"I'm not leaving you here, Fi," he shot back. "If it makes you feel any better, leaving just about killed me, and I don't mean with bullets or knives. I almost woke you up and took you with me, but I didn't want to force you into that life. You've said it before; I can leave and change my identity pretty easily. You're not that way Fiona and I wouldn't want you to have to be because of me. And I would rather have you angry at me than have one or both of us end up dead. None of that means I would leave you stranded in an elevator," he explained. "Besides it's safest to stay in the car." She had given him her full attention the whole time, but was ready with a comeback of her own.

"What about when you left last year to meet up with Carla for the first time and she dropped you in the middle of a double homicide?" He winced again; he had never really explained himself to her and now he regretted it. Now they were stuck in a confined space, suspended at least twelve stories above the ground and he had nowhere to run.

"I was pretty sure they wouldn't kill me. I mean, I wasn't sure I would end up back in Miami, but they had had so many chances to kill me and make it look like an accident, why transport me in a truck all that way just to get rid of me. They kept me alive and stuck here for a year, they weren't about to make more problems for themselves. At least I really hoped so," he said, trying to explain his reasoning. She nodded in understanding.

"And what would you do if they called you away again?"

"What kind of circumstances, Fi? It matters."

"Very high chance of dying, but you get off the blacklist, no questions asked or answered. You have to go back to your old life and it's like these last two years never happened. Would you just up and leave or would you stay here and help people like we've been doing?" she asked, truly curious, but not hopeful. She thought she had him all figured out. She was wrong.

"I wouldn't run off to certain death just to go back to that life. Everything that's happened in the past few weeks and months has made me think about what you told me before I ran off in pursuit of a mysterious voice on the phone. Why should I go back to the people who have put me, put us, through all this? I want to know why the organization wanted me. I want to be able to talk to whoever I want. I want the line of assassins to dwindle a little. The best way I can think to accomplish that is to have an agency backing me. But I'm not so sure I would just go back. I just need a goal. I can't just sit and let them dictate my life." His answer surprised her to say the least. She had been expecting a resounding 'yes' and not a thoughtful response that reminded her how much he actually did value her opinion.

"Thank you Michael," she said softly. "For considering this." He smiled and hugged her, a rarity for them, but he felt the moment called for it. When they parted he checked his watch and noticed how long it had been since they had left Sam at the loft.

"It's getting kind of late, Fi. Are you…?" he started to ask when her yawn cut him off. "Ok, I guess you're as tired as I am. It might be awhile before the power comes back on." She tugged him down with her to sit on the floor. It wasn't warm in the elevator (are they ever?) and she was dressed for the warm weather of the late afternoon it had been when they had arrived at the hotel. The cold wall pressed against her back and she shivered a little. Doesn't matter how much training you have or how much time you've spent in the cold, you still shiver. It's a reflex.

"We're not getting out of here until morning are we?" Fi asked, not warming to the idea of spending the night there. Michael shook his head in the negative.

"Probably not," he replied, removing his tan Armani suit jacket to be more comfortable. Fi shivered again, this time Michael noticed. He gently pulled her over to curl into his side and draped his jacket over them both; making sure it covered her first. He slid them over into the corner and tucked her legs under her a little more. "Better Fi?" She nodded into his shirt and it wasn't long before the fatigue of their barely paying job and the side job they had been dealing with in the hotel allowed her to drift off into a relatively comfortable sleep.

He looked down at her, noting how right it felt to have her half-sprawled across his chest again, despite how independent she was. One hand lightly held his shirt between two of the buttons and the other was tucked between their bodies, though not tightly or uncomfortably. His arms were holding her to him so she wouldn't slide off because of the angle at which he was sitting. Knowing it would be best to get a little sleep, Michael laid his head on top of Fi's and breathed in the scent of her perfume and shampoo. It was familiar and calming, letting him drift off to dreamland as well.

The first thing Michael noticed when he awoke was the light. It was normal, not blue, and bright. The second thing was the gentle hum of the elevator. They were moving again. The third was that Fiona was still asleep on his chest. "Wake up, Fi," he called, moving just enough to rouse her. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. Not quickly or slowly, just casually. The power having only been back on for a few moments, the air was still chilly so she kept his jacket wrapped tightly around her. He smiled and didn't comment, being warm enough without it.

They slowly climbed to their feet, mindful of stiff limbs from the awkward position in which they had spent the last three hours, as Michael noted by showing Fi his watch. It was already morning, the wee hours, and Sam would definitely be worried. He may be a beach bum, but he was still a SEAL and he was their friend. It was his job to worry.

Eventually the car arrived on the ground floor and opened for them to exit. It seemed they hadn't been the only people stuck in the elevators at the time, as a small family emerged from the car across from them. Acknowledging the amount of attention they were sure to attract after being cooped up in there for a few hours, Michael put his arm around Fiona and led her to the Charger. She got in and shivered as her leg inadvertently brushed against the cold seat. Shifting slightly so Michael's jacket covered her more fully, she buckled herself in and waited for him to start the car. He put the key in the ignition, but paused, momentarily lost in thought.

"Fi?" he asked, turning to look at her. She turned away from the window and faced him. Her features asked what was on his mind, but his expression was unreadable. Without warning or words, he closed the space between them and kissed her lightly for a fleeting moment. It was sweet and tender, but casual and familiar. It was full of the one thing that had been missing each time they had tried to rekindle their romantic relationship in Miami: true understanding. She understood what he wanted, his priorities, his reasons, and where she stood. He understood her concerns, her wants, and how to fix what he knew had been broken.

It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, but it still left them with small smiles from their newfound knowledge. Michael's hand traveled back to the ignition and started the car with ease, well as much ease as the perpetually glitchy Charger would allow at that late, or early, an hour. He pulled out of the space and drove back to the loft. Sure enough Sam's car was still there as they had yet to call him and explain. They hopped out of the Dodge once it was parked and headed up the stairs, Michael's hand resting lightly on the small of Fiona's back. She opened the door with her key and they sauntered in, still tired from the restless sleep an elevator floor provides.

"Hey. Where've you two been? The least you could've done was call. I've been waiting here all night," Sam chastised as they approached his chair. He noticed that Mike's jacket was wrapped around Fiona and that the odd tension that had been buzzing between them was back to its normal energy. He was suspicious. "Mike…" he started to warn.

"Power outage Sam. We were stuck in a very cold elevator for three hours, sleeping on the floor. All to find out that this guy barely registers on the threat meter. Sorry you had to wait but we had no cell reception. If you don't mind my legs and back are stiff, it's 2 in the morning, and I'd really like to go back to sleep." Sam nodded with a chuckle and got up, stretching his tired muscles.

"I'll see you two tomorrow then. Good night," he called, shutting the door on his way out. His car started and pulled away, leaving the two of them alone again.

It didn't need to be said, Fi was welcome to stay over at the loft anytime she wished, or anytime Michael felt she was too tired or it was too late for her to drive all the way home. It was his subtle way of protecting her, though he wouldn't tell her that if he valued his life. She flopped back onto 'her' side of the bed while he went to change and grab her a t-shirt to wear. When he came back, in his pajama pants and holding a black shirt for her, she was already asleep. Smiling to himself, he left the shirt on the chair Sam had been sitting in and quietly walked over to her. Careful not to wake her, he slipped her shoes off and set them on the floor, then lifted her small frame to pull the blanket out from underneath her so he could cover her up. Then he pulled his suit jacket from around her shoulders and slid the blankets up. He set her shoes near the chair and went to put his jacket with his pants.

He quietly padded back to the bed and slid under the blankets on his side. Finding a comfortable spot wasn't hard; it had always felt normal to have Fi there. In no time she was half-sprawled across his chest again, a comfortable position for them both. In moments he fell asleep and neither woke till the proper morning.

So, drop me a line and let me know what you thought. I think I have another something like this lying around and I may post that, too, in the near future if anyone would like it.