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Burn-notice

Sam: Hey, look who's not in jail.
Pearce: Well, I just got an ear full from Langley about your little stunt. What the hell were you thinking threatening an FBI agent like that?
Michael: I didn't threatening him. I asked him questions with a gun in my hand. A gun I have the right to legally carry.

Fiona: I think Rebecca found your tracker. Nice try Sam.
Sam: I put that fricking thing in her boot heel. How the hell did find it?
Michael: Because she's good.

Rebecca: You don't have to believe me. Shoot me if you want. But I'm not going to run from you. We're either good or we're not. You decide.
Michael: Go.
Rebecca: I am sorry for your loss. I hope you find the son of bitch who pulled the trigger.

Michael: What the hell are you doing here?
Rebecca: Besides bleeding out on your floor? I'm here to tell you I give up.

Fiona: Thank you for not giving up.
Michael: Consider it pay back for the thousand times you never gave up on me.

Fiona: Took you long enough, was beginning to think you didn't need me.
Michael: Fi, I need you more than ever.

Sam: I've been helping you slog through this burn notice crap for how many years and I don't get to be there when you put the wraps on the last bastard standing?
Michael: You know how it is, you - the agency - you!

Fiona: I trust you Michael, but if you let that weasel slip away again I'm going to break out of here just to kick your ass!
Michael: Fair enough.

Rebecca: There is something I want from you first. Just promise me that when you get that bastard in custody, no deals no negotiations no compromises.
Michael: Anson will get what he deserves. I promise you that.

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