Author's Note: As with every story, I do not own either the characters seen originally in this movie, the plot or content taken from the film. All original material is mine. IE: characters, plot content.

This is rated MA for mature language, sexual scenes and violent themes. Just all the best things, eh?

The story starts off two years earlier before the movie takes place, so it's an AU that meets the plot further down the road.

Summer 2008, LA.

Finnegan Donnelly rolled her shoulders as she rode the elevator up. She wore low slung dark wash skinny jeans, tucked into black leather high heeled boots that stopped at her knees. She adjusted the waist tie on her white trench coat she wore and pulled her pony tail out of the collar where it had gotten trapped. She had a black and silver Coach purse on her shoulder, a present from her aunt for her birthday. She was in the process of turning her blackberry on silent while she waited for the elevator to stop at her floor.

She looked like every other twenty something young women on the streets going to work or to university. But she wasn't your average twenty something women.

Finnegan took after her mother, Nevyn Donnelly in many ways. They carried the same colouring, had the same temperament and had may of the same characteristics. But it was through her father that made her different among her peers. Her father was the second oldest child to Mattas O'Malley, head of the O'Malley crime family. Or as they were often known as, the Irish mob. She was a by product of a short lived affair between a young Irish woman who should have known better and a young second generation Irish American who did.

In the O'Malley family there really wasn't any choice, you worked in the family business. End of story. And in the family business there was only two choices. The legit and the illegal. Finnegan had her feet firmly planted in both worlds. She was an saint and the devil, all rolled up into a tight little package. She had the face of an innocent young woman, and the mouth of a sailor.

Finnegan ran two different lives or two different cons as she sometimes preferred to think it as. She was Finnegan Donnelly legally; a legit business woman starting fresh in LA. And Finn O'Malley, a middle man of sorts in the O'Malley crime organization. She had kept her legal name her mother's last name, as it protected her other identity. There weren't many people, outside the immediate O'Malley family that knew of her existence. Her aunt had told her once, it was that reason alone that made her the perfect double agent and gave her the ability to play in both worlds successfully.

What she was most known for was being the running a successful Irish bakery Caithiseach down on 9th ave, and two laundry locations. But under the surface, she ran information for contacts that Flynn and Fergus couldn't be seen with publicly.

Both of her older half-brothers had records, and were often dragged down the local police station to be question for mob related crimes. It was no secret that the Irish mob was branching out from Boston and Chicago. So she did the dirty work in public, when needed.

It was a ballsy move, for sure. And Finnegan had to admit she questioned her Grandpapa Mattas wisdom in pulling two simultaneous coups in New York and LA. The Italian's in New York were dug into the trenches, with both sides laying down heavy fire.

Mattas had decided to hold Boston, sending his third child Rioban, and Rioban's two oldest son's, Aeary and Adare to New York. They had taken a fourth of Mattas's man power to the city that never sleeps. It had started first with the bookies that were owned by the Italian mob. First, one or two a month ended up dead with their lips sewn shut and two copper pennies placed on their eyes. Then it increased to an alarming rate. The bodies always ending up in the Italian's legit businesses. Aeary had successfully cut off the money supply from the Italian mob. Adare had started laying the foundation to start hitting the Italian's shipment of drugs and weapons.

Both of her cousin's were earning their stripes in the family business with her Uncle Rioban leading the charge.

Mattas had sent his eldest daughter, Carney to the windy city a decade early. She had cut a bloody trail through the existing Russian mob that had held the city for two decades before her. She was young, eager and determined to prove herself. It was only due to her intelligence, bloody thirsty ways that Chicago was O'Malley territory for the last seven years. Carney had taken the city, and held it. She had raised Finnegan and her two older half-brother's Flynn and Fergus after Finnegan's own father Rian had been convicted of racketing charges and 1st degree murder in Boston.

It was the three of them that were sent to Los Angeles, under the supervision of Uncle Riagan. They had establish their legit business with her help and her brother were cutting of the legs of both the Asian's and the Russian's that had divided the city two decades early. Uncle Riagan, the youngest of Mattas's five children was bound and determined to take he city in less time then his brother could take New York.

Finnegan, was going to play her part.

Today, she was going to meet with a new contact; a very suspicious, nervous client. As her family often sold information varying from weapons, explosives, blueprints, other mob families, Finnegan never knew what was in the envelop she carried to the contact. It was just better that way, for her and for the client.

She was the go between, the middle man of sorts. Her job was very simple. She was to meet with a contact, exchange money for information. Her information and his money.

The elevator door opened with a ding, and she walked out onto the cement floor of an almost empty parking garage. Her boots clicking on the concrete were the only noise she heard, as she walked towards a silver Porsche.

A tall, lanky man dressed in expensive, well cut dress slacks, and suspenders over a long sleeved white dress shirt, leaned against the car. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off various tattoo's. He wore a black fedora with a thick, strip of white around the hat. The fedora covered most of his blonde hair, and shaded the top part of his face from her view.

She bet her favourite pair of Jimmy Choo's that he was as hot in bed as the vibes he was throwing off. But being the professional she prided herself on, she was not going allow her mind to go there. Now if this was her personal time, Mr. Sexy would be on his knees showing her how good he was with his tongue.

After all, this client at least owed her at least a half decent orgasm for all the trouble he put her through already. Seeing as this had been her role, within the organization for the last five years, Finnegan was used to first time client jitters. Nobody was ever really sure, how good the information really was, or weather or not either party was an undercover cop.

But this joker, brought over suspicious and nervous to a hold new level. He had changed the meeting date twice and the drop location three times. The fact that today, was suppose her only day off from either the legit and the illegal parts of her life, Finnegan was already in bad mood at being here. The client called her exactly forty-five minutes ago, informing her that the exchange was to take place in exactly forty-five minutes. No more or no less.

Clearly, he had balls the size of grapefruit if he thought he was in charge. But no one ever said she wasn't professional. Here she was exactly on time.

Finnegan sighed, and shook her head in regret. This was not personal time, this was work time. She chalked her unprofessional thoughts up to the need to get laid and the fact that one in ever eight clients she met were actually good looking.

She needed to get her head in the game or get checked out permanently.