Author's note: I was watching 'Broken rules' again and that's when Michael's line it stating 'How profoundly unhappy they were' and 'I still have scars to prove it, remember? Dublin? Germany?'

So I decided to write a fic on it and had it stored at the back of my brain for so long…I've published it due to the extensive persuasion of 'Burnedmichaely', so if you like it, you can thank her :)

Michael huffed and puffed as he climbed the 7 flights of stairs to Fi's apartment. There was an elevator but due to Fi's insistence that climbing was a good exercise, he had gotten into a habit of climbing anyway… Ringing the doorbell, he shivered as a gust of Irish breeze blew, chilling his bone marrow. Winding his jacket around him tighter, he hunched in an effort to maintain his core body temperature.

"It's open. Come right in!" Came a husky, sensual voice from inside. Glad to be out of the blizzard, Michael quickly moved in, shutting the door behind him to let least of the cold air and snowflakes in.

The sudden warmth of the house, coming partly from a frankly over-worked radiator and partly from the fact that ventilation was treated like a honeymoon during the winter months; hit him squarely in his gut, as his ears popped and he finally heard something more than the wind. His blocked nose opened up to the welcoming whiff of fragrances of vanilla and….was that food?...Food! His stomach lurched at the thought. He was ravenous.

"Fi?"

"In here"

"Um…why have you lit candles everywhere?" he said looking at the million she had put in some sort of arrangement in the living room itself.

"cos they are a good way to start celebrations"

"Celebr- could I switch on a proper light? Michael said as he stumbled over her accessories that littered the room making even the spacious place look cluttered.

"No! It'll spoil the mood" Fi yelled sounding flustered.

He stumbled his way into the tiny dining room area; the spectacle in front of him was mesmerizing!

The table had been laid with what looked like a banquet meal for a ship and it was adorned by a vase filled with wildflowers and the room had a soft yellow glow coming from the tactfully laid candles…soft music was playing from somewhere indecipherable…but the most catching, shiny object in the room was a petite, fragile looking woman with sweeping long auburn hair and the most beautiful smile on the most alive-looking face…

And just like that Michael was left staring…staring at her abject beauty. Her skimpy little dress would seem like foolhardiness to wear in Irish winter but in the heated room and with the now crackling and sizzling friction between them, the room suddenly felt like a broiler. Slipping out of his overcoat he hung it on one of the many hooks kept handy, his stare never leaving the blue-green eyes that were trained on him with equal precision.

"Surprise" she whispered. Her voice sounded like the leaves on branches were rustling in the wind…thoroughly sexy.

"Surprised. You did all this? When?" Michael said looking a little dazed still. Fiona looked at him, his dark hair still looking a little ruffled due to the buffeting wind outside. He looked utterly happy, and absolutely competent.

His every feature was razor sharp and his every contour was like a frission of desire through her. The force of Michael's personality tugged at her like a powerful magnet, and it took her all her willpower to not let herself be drawn inexorably towards him.

"I did it all this evening. I know it seems corny…but I like stuff that's chic."

"And I like people that are chic." Michael said looking rather astonished.

She gave him a thousand watt smile and gesturing to a chair said, "Come on! Let's get our date started!"

Michael laughed appreciatively and settled down comfortably. Fi poured them a glass of wine each.

"Mmm…Wow that's good!" Michael said twirling the contents of the glass a few times after each sip.

"Chianti…My brother got a special import from Italy for this so he gave me one for a special occasion. I thought today would qualify so I cracked the seal."

"Wow….this is too good to be used for an ordinary day anyway…what's the special occasion though?" He asked rather innocuously.

She looked up at him, the remnants of her smile still frozen on her lips. "What?"

"I asked what the special occasion was" he said taking another gulp of the wine.

She gave him a bewildered look, "you really don't know?" she snatched the glass out of his hand adding "wait you really don't know?"

"Um…" said Michael clearly surprised "Am I…supposed to?"

"You mean to say you don't know what today is? Today Michael! The 14th of December? You have no idea?"

"No" he said looking dubious "One week before Christmas?"

"what kinda lame-ass rituals were performed in your house? One week before Christmas? Where is that celebrated…..Madagascar?"

"no…so what is on the 14th?"

"Michael!"

"Fi?" he said tartly.

"Ok I get the joke! Haha! Zing!...wait…" she said suddenly looking at the blank expression on his face " you're not joking are you?"

There was silence. Fi erupted in anger. "You really don't know? What the hell!"

"What am I supposed to know?" he asked nervously.

"How about we start with anniversary?"

"Anniversary? Who's anniversary?"

"ok hold on Michael. Let's think. On who's anniversary would we both be sipping wine in a candlelit atmosphere? With soft music too? Is it my parents? Or is it that old lady and her 20 year old boyfriend downstairs? Who's anniversary could it be?"

"Ok I get it….but wait didn't we have an anniversary last week?" Michael said now looking a little annoyed and anxious at the same time.

Fi was already looking pretty bad tempered when Michael just added fuel to the fire by asking vaguely "Is it our one-month and a week anniversary or something?"

Fi looked like she would take the entire table and thrown it at him.

When you're a spy, a lot of your job depends on getting your lines right, 'cos pretty much all the time, your life hangs by its threads. Most normal people would say that that's not applicable for relationships. Sadly, I'm not most people.

"Ok that sounded so much better in my head….look Fi, I'm sorry I didn't-

"You didn't what? You didn't mean to forget our sex-anniversary?"

"What?" Michael exclaimed.

"On the night of 14th November, you and I…did it." Fi said not looking in the least bit embarrassed.

"We might have…" he said sounding completely awkward.

"We might have? We did! You don't remember that?" she said sounding absolutely distraught.

"No! Of course I do!"

"You don't!" she said accusingly.

"I do! It was…amazing…uh….mind-blowing! Heart-rendering and-

"Of course it was Michael! It was with me! It was mind-numbing, protein-depleting sex!

"Exactly! See so that was difficult to forget right? But what's with having an anniversary for this day?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Fi asked.

"It means…that…do people celebrate anniversaries for that? Ok I should shut up." He added.

When you're a spy stuff happens…people get angry, people get too angry, people kill. You're trained to be able to detect these signs from across the Atlantic Ocean. Thing is, when the people you're talking about happens to be your girlfriend, you try to hope there are no murder traits in her. With Fiona…fat chance.

She looked really botchy angry as she stood up from her seat clutching onto the knife she had picked up previously to eat with. She walked into the living room, muttering indecipherable curses and abuses underneath her breath.

Michael got up behind her and in the most cajoling voice possible, said, "come onFi! Please?"

"No! Get lost!" she said sounding absolutely firm on that point.

"I'm sorry"

"I cooked dinner! I made dessert! I set the entire place up! I do all this to surprise you…and you! Forget!"

"Come on Fi! It's not like you actually sat and made all this. That's way too much for you"

Big blunder, Bad judgment.

Fi turned around looking absolutely wild. As she walked back to the dining room, she clutched onto his collar and dragged him with her. "Ow! Ow…ow…ok sorry! Fi ow! That hurt."

She dragged him into the kitchen and shoved him in front of the kitchen sink, where he was greeted with a beautiful sight of the 'leaning tower of dirty dishes'.

"Awe I'm sorry Fi. I didn't know"

She still looked a little heart broken as she flung open the fridge door and beckoned him to peek inside. Sitting on the topmost shelf was the biggest and cleanest looking Cheesecake he had ever seen.

"Wow that looks….beautiful…too good to be eaten" Michael mumbled in wonder.

"Speak for yourself. I was so ready to eat that! I slogged over it for hours! Like the dinner itself!"

"Well…nothings lost…we could still have that amazing dinner you had planned and I'll get you a gift tomorrow" he said giving an apologetic smile.

"Don't hold your breath" she said glumly, before walking out of the kitchen….again, her mood not improved very much.

Michael sighed and followed her to the living room again to see her pacing around like a trapped and really hungry-for-blood animal. His blood to be exact.

Fi stopped and turned towards him and aimed all her frustration and anger at him when she talked.

"I mean I do all of this work…and you do what? Not even an iota's worth of effort to appreciate my struggles."

"Fi! I appreciate it to the farthest extent!" he said wincing a few times at her careless twitching of the blade in her hand, as she punctuated each of her words with a different gesture.

"I mean…the least you could have done was to remember at least that such a day existed in our relationship instead of acting like the world's biggest zombie when I mention it! I mean that's appreciation for a girlfriend's hard work!"

"Yeah Fi….uh that knife…Fiona…knife? Knife! Let's just talk keeping instruments away from you huh? Ok…I'm not coming next to you. It's ok no need to attack" he said taking a fast retreat when Fi brandished the knife his way.

"Shut up! And listen to me! A relationship is not a one-way street Michael! You can't expect me to do all the hard work in here!"

"Fiona…" he said putting his hands up in front of him when she advanced several degrees holding the knife up threateningly. Seeing no other alternative, he held onto the wrist of the knife-holding hand, twisting it so that it was now behind her back. He was trying to pry it out of her fingers when she twisted from underneath him and pushed him back against the wall holding the knife really close to his solar plexus. "Fiona if you kill me…you really won't have anybody to celebrate this anniversary with."

"Oh don't worry about me! I'll find someone! If I were you I would worry about yourself first."

"Oh I don't worry about me. I'm way too good to be killed and you're way to smitten by me to kill me" he said whispering sensually in her ear.

"I wouldn't be banking on it McBride…"

"Trust me Fiona…it's my trump card."

"I, on the other hand, have only myself as a trump card to care about" she said dangerously close to his lips.

She gave him a challenging look so he held onto her shoulders fast, twisting her and throwing her against the wall instead. Fi caught completely out of the blue by this move, let her hands go into a state of no resistance, so they flung out against her and hit Michael in his biceps, causing him to wince in sudden agony.

"Ok! Ow! Did not see that one coming Fi! If you hated me so much, then why the whole anniversary?" he said as he let go of her rubbing the spot on his arm where the knife had cut him. Removing his hand for a second, he realized that he had a coin-sized deep crimson patch developing on his arm.

"OW! Fi! You stabbed me!"

"I can't help it you attacked me!"

"I didn't! But now I certainly will!" he said moving away from her, removing his shirt to mop up the blood that was slowly creeping out.

"Oh come on! Stop acting like a baby! It's only a small cut!" Fi said rolling her eyes at his drama.

"No that's gonna scar..." he said he said fondling his small cut.

"See it stopped bleeding already! Get over it drama queen!" Fi said sighing in impatience and walking up to him to inspect his 'wound'.

"That's not even a scratch!" she said hitting him a little on the other arm. Michael winced when her bony fingers hit against his forearm.

"Ow Fi….you're too bony!" he said swatting her hand away. "I mean….wait why I am so scared? Yeah! That's what I mean! You're too bony!" he said pointing an accusing finger at her.

"What? I'm not bony! You're an oversensitive 4 year old girl!" Fi said hitting him on the back of the head.

"O-K that hurt! We are officially in war!" he said pinning her against the wall. She gasped suddenly at the sudden amount of force he had pressed up against her.

Michael didn't move, but she could feel him tense, and just how close they were hit her. She slid her hands slowly round his neck so that she could pull his head down until their lips were almost touching.

"I like being in charge, Michael." She murmured and pressed her mouth to his in a kiss that was warm and long and achingly sweet.

When it was over, Michael raised his head long enough to whisper "And I like you being in charge" in return before he took her up on her imitation and gathered her back into his arms.

In that moment, as his lips came down on hers; anniversary, the starlit night and the fight were all blotted out of her by a wave of inexpressible delight. Fi melted into his kiss, giddy with relief and sheer joy. His mouth was so warm, so exciting and the feeling of his arms around her filled her with a pleasure so intense that it hurt.

"Fi…" Michael murmured her name breathlessly as he kissed his way along her jaw line. He twined his fingers in her lustrous long hair as he tipped her head back kissing the sensitive skin just behind her ear. "Shall we make ourselves more comfortable?" said Michael a little shakily as he kissed her neck, and although she was reluctant to let him go for even a second, Fiona let herself be pulled across the room. He reached for her then drawing her down with him onto the wide bed and for Fiona time ceased to exist.

Author's note: Wow I can't believe how much fun that was! I have not written an Ireland story since donkey's years! Anyway…plz review 'cos they make me smile :) and I like smiling :P