A/N: The name Niamh is pronounced Neev

Of course he got the most boring job. He always got the dirty work.

But the dirty work was usually much more fun, it was usually what Robert Bailey was good at, like threatening someone, murder somebody or coordinating people during transports and such.

Doing something.

Now he had to sit here and watch the surroundings of their hiding place, which meant staring at 10 little squares on the screen of the laptop in front of him.

"If they won't take the bait and I bore my arse off for no good reason I am gonna make somebody pay" he mumbled while he let the knife hit the table before turning it around between his fingers to let it slide down until it hit plastic again.

He had done this for the past 30 minutes and this fact alone was sad. Very. Sad.

Robert sighed and paid a closer look to the other knives again. They were five in number and Rashid had given them to him just before he left.

"Have fun, I have no use for them" the Pakistani-Brit had said and had tossed them on the table right beside Robert, having caused him to cringe. Rashid had this really annoying ability to sneak up to somebody without them ever noticing him and the most annoying thing about that was actually that he didn't even try, he just did it. His colleague was like a goddamn cat in so many ways, which was probably the main reason why Robert didn't like him. He always had been more of a dog person.

"Where did you get them from?" he had asked while the other had neatly arranged the knives side to side now.

"They were Vento's Back Up Plan" he had gotten as answer and had cocked an eyebrow:

"His Back Up plan?"

"Yes, the sly bastard had the knives all over his body" Rashid had explained and had swept a finger over the Initials that were burnt into the wooden handle of one knife.

"And why do you think I would need some knives more than you? Give them to Kirkland or do whatever you want, I don't want them" Robert had snarled and had yawned, having kneaded his eyes with one hand. He didn't really sleep in 20 hours and he was a man that needed sleep. Not in the "I am a machine that needs a certain amount of rest otherwise I become more and more useless" way but in the "I like sleep, two hours of leaving the world behind never hurt anybody". No sleep was not affecting his efficiency but his mood, much to the dismay of his subordinates.

"You will have to wait here for quite a long time, Bailey, and I know how much you like to play with knives so I thought you have a good use for them. Just try to not break anything" he had said and Robert swore, he had said it with a grin before he left, closing the door carefully without making a noise.

He clearly remembered having mumbled "I don't want those stupid knives" right after the other had left.

And now he sat her with one of these stupid knives in his hands, letting hit the table over and over again. One of the actually six knives was already stuck in the chair that originally stood beside him but of course he had kicked it to the other end of the sadly very small room, otherwise it wouldn't have been fun.

Not that it had been fun anyways. Not that anything could be fun if you had to watch a few webcams, listen to the headset earphone if somebody had to say something and try not to take a nap. Why all of this, what could go wrong? They wouldn't find them and even if, he highly doubted that the Sicilians would be organised enough without their boss.

About the Irish he didn't even worry, no, a faint smile crept on his face when he thought about the two. An unlikely duo, truly;

He couldn't say too much about O'Neill except for what he heard about him and the little you could get out of the calm man. Very experienced, on the other hand probably a bit too old for the job, was all Robert dared to say for sure.

But it was impossible to meet Higgins and not know anything about the chatterbox. And in his opinion he was arrogant, annoying and disgusting.

Probably all because he was gay, at least the disgusting part was explained like that. The other two traits were probably not influenced by his sexuality, but they clearly influenced his behaviour and if the Londoner was sick of one person acting up with him it was definitely the cocky Irishman. The thought that he would very likely be the next on their hit list made him even laugh quietly, before he turned around and threw the next knife at the chair.

It got stuck in the thin fabric of the upper back of the chair and he looked at the other knives beside him, four were still lying there.

"And when that day is to come" he said to himself, turning to the laptop again and grabbing the next knife. It was the one with Vento's Initials and he sighed, turning it around in his hand a few times, before he let it hit the table: "I'll be the one taking care of it, taking care of you little bitch." Oh, the mere thought brightened up Robert's mood and he hummed, playing with the knife. How would he do it then? There were so many ways to kill somebody and Robert only knew he would make Higgins suffer. Or at least let him have a taste of his own medicine first, it was the Irish's turn to get walked all over.

"For how long have they been into this business? 4 years?" he thought out loud, looking upwards, lightly hitting his chin with the flat side of the knife. "So we've only known those Irish for such a little time but I and the boss are equally annoyed by them, huh? That deserves some kind of award" he cackled and looked onto the monitors again. But right now O'Connel was drowning and his minions would follow soon after.

Drowning was quite agonizing, wasn't it? Robert wondered what would be the most painful death… Shooting somebody? Of course not in the head or the heart, that'd be too easy. Burning somebody? Strangling somebody?

"Or stabbing somebody!" he said and threw the knife at the chair.

It got stuck in the back rest again, slightly vibrating.

"So, when I see this stupid face I'll have so many possibilities and I cannot choose one!" Charlie lamented.

"Oh, neither can I when I think of yours" Lorenzo growled while tapping his fingers on the wheel and Marco nodded, head leant against the car window.

It was eight pm and the traffic was horrible, like it always had been in this city, like it always had been in every damn city in this whole damn country.

Charlie frowned and looked at Lorenzo: "There are nicer ways to tell me to shut up."

"I know but first, I didn't plan on being any nicer to you" the Sicilian gave back.

"And second, I highly doubt that you actually shut up if somebody tells you to do so" his brother added and Charlie pouted.

"Look at them, only knowing you for two days and yet such accurate descriptions of your personality" Paddy commented and earned a glare from the other.

"Well, thank you, too, old man" Charlie said in a huff and Paddy only shrugged his shoulders, before making a face: "I better don't move in this car. So, gentlemen, when will be there?"

"If we had been able to drive like we want, we'd already be there" Lorenzo sighed.

"If the traffic would be just half as bad, ten minutes" Marco sighed as well.

"But like this? Let's hope for 20 minutes" they both said synchronously and the Irish cringed again.

"That's still creepy, still damn creepy" Charlie said and Paddy nodded, accidentally bumping into the car roof.

"How about you don't even breathe anymore" Charlie commented on it, an eyebrow cocked and looking at him but before he could answer they got thrown at the back of their seats:

"Blimey, was that necessary?!" Paddy cursed after he had managed to sit up halfway 'normal' again.

"And wasn't that traffic light red?" the other asked after he had leant forwards, one hand on the back of the passenger seat.

"Goddammit, Is that all you care about now?!" Marco said and glared at him over his shoulder.

"Essato, every second counts!" Lorenzo backed his brother's words before gesturing to the car in front of them and yelling something in Italian.

"I care about our safety! I mean-"

Marco: "I mean that you shut up now, Higgins!"

Lorenzo: "We know the rules of our own damn country!"

Both: "So just shut up and let us work!"

Charlie leant back again, looking at Paddy who shrugged with his shoulders, ignoring it reminding him that the car was still too small to move: "I think they are right."

He closed his eyes: "And now excuse me, while I try to ignore that apparently everyone's driving on these roads like there is no tomorrow."

The younger one was just staring at the twins while he was also fastening his seatbelt, he didn't thought it would have been necessary when they got into the car but now Charlie actually was glad he hadn't needed it before.

"Hey, old man" he whispered then, hoping it was quiet enough for the twins not to understand. "I think I really like the two."

"I can guess in which direction this is going and do not like it …"

"I mean I always knew that the Italians are passionate and fiery but –"

"– I REALLY do not like the direction this is going –"

"– this, Paddy, oh … I never thought I would get lucky like this."

"Okay, okay, first of all – You did not get lucky yet, and I kinda doubt that you will" Paddy sighed just as quiet as they had talked before and Charlie started to pout again, "and second – I think there are more appropriate times to talk about this … I guess."

The other rolled his eyes and looked out of the car window.

"Did you get what they were talking about?" Marco mumbled almost silently to his brother, who only shrugged:

"Not really, didn't listen either and we actually prefer not to know, right?"

"Damn right … I hope Michele is safe and back in his right mind."

"Sí … I mean, even if … he told us, he wanted to play with that guy … so nothing serious after all …" Lorenzo saidand his brother smiled relieved.

That lasted for 3 seconds before both of them said annoyed out loud: "Tell us another, we're damned!"

"Why, is there a problem or is it about us?" Paddy buzzed and the twins looked at each other.

"Ah, it's nothing" they said synchronously, causing the Irishmen to twitch.

"So it is about us" Charlie sighed. "About me especially, right?" After a second he started to grin: "Oh, I just thought of how a lot of people react when they realize they have a crush on somebody they thought they didn't like ~"

Paddy looked at him with a frown: "And I thought you would have mended your ways for once."

"Oh come on old man, what have I done now?!"

"You were being your … self again, whatever."

"Well, if you don't try you can't win!"

"Oh, you had lost the second you opened your damn mouth!" Marco called annoyed to the back seat.

"So it'd be better for you to shut it right now, accepting your 'defeat'!" Lorenzo snarled and turned the car into a side road, causing the others to get thrown around in the car again.

"I miss my car" Paddy quietly lamented and rubbed his head. "I miss being actually able to fit into a car."

"I miss me behind the wheel and people on the roads not driving like they never saw a driving school from the inside" Charlie added and Paddy looked at him:

"You don't drive much better, lad."

"Yes, yes I know, 'I can't even drive straight'" the other rolled his eyes. "But this quite beats every – OUCH"

"The roads are really not the best" Marco hummed in a spiteful tone.

"Should we have warned you? ~" Lorenzo asked in the same voice.

"I think I broke my neck" Paddy moaned and Charlie nodded before he took his phone out: "Oh no … my hair looks awful."

He looked at the twins: "Please tell me it was worth it and we are there sooner now."

"Five minutes" Marco answered.

"Maximum" Lorenzo grinned and engaged the next gear.

"WHY are you sitting here, staring at your phone?" Niamh asked and Sophie cringed, swirling around.

"Oh, I just – hey! WHY are you in my caravan?!" she asked the other girl back. Niamh was daughter to the farmers Soph bought the meadow from. They lived in a house just half a kilometre away and since last year when Soph bought her first sheep, the O'Brian family had been big help for her.

"My mom is worried about that you don't have any food and dad asks if your caravan isn't too hot or too cold tonight to sleep" she told her and rolled her eyes. "Parents. And my big brother asked if you need any help with the sheep and my wee brother asked if he can come here to 'help' you with the sheep, too."

"Oh, I have food" she said with a sheepish smile. "I am fine, the sheep are fine, nooo need to worry!"

Her stomach decided to ruin the first and only lie by growling and Niamh grinned: "So you got food, sure."

"What's left from dinner and could you please bring me some" she mumbled a bit embarrassed.

"You know, you can still come, it's only half past nine – "

"No, no! I don't want to cause any trouble!"

"You wouldn't. What's the real reason?"

Soph frowned at her: "Would you stop looking right through me?"

Niamh crossed her arms and grinned: "I'll stop when you stop being made out of glass."

Continuing to glare, she grabbed her phone: "It's about my brother. He wants to call me in half an hour and I told you how little time he has and that stuff … I would really like to have a talk in private with him."

Niamh looked on the floor, chewing on her lower lip: "I understand … Where is your brother now?"

"Ah, he's currently in Sicily … I am kind of worried … you know…?" Soph said and sat down on her bed. "Worried that his stuff gets stolen, worried that he gets sunburn because he is an idiot …"

Niamh chuckled and sat down beside her. "Ah come on, Harry's not that much of eejit as you make him."

"Wanna bet?" Soph asked and Niamh laughed, letting herself fall back on her bed:

"Well, I like him! He's friendly, he's funny, he's good looking – "

"Oh god, not that topic again."

"I am just stating my opinion!" Niamh said and poked her in the side.

"That is not an opinion, this is a malfunction of the brain!"

"Oh god, would you stop that?! Your brother is not the devil!

"But he's a bloody twat! What about Charlie, you can fawn about Charlie all day!" Soph suggested Niamh shook her head: "Nah! I mean, he looks good as well but he's gay!"

"This can't stop you from fawning!"

"Soph, what the hell?" Niamh laughed

"It is easier for me if you have a crush on him than on my brother!" she grinned and Niamh laughed again, her blue eyes sparkling from the laughing tears.

"Nobody ever said something about a crush, he is just nice!"

Soph threw a pillow at her, Niamh punched it and it landed on the floor: "Gah!"

Niamh couldn't reply, for the next minute they just laid laughing on the bed.

"My tummy hurts" Soph said in the silence after it and Niamh started to laugh again, only to cough. "I also forgot what we actually laughed about."

"Me too" she whispered and sighed, shaking her head to get the hair out of her face: "And my tummy hurts too, I should probably get something to eat."

"What do I have to expect?"

"Mam made stew."

"Oh, nice! Okay, you go and get the food and I'll make sure my microwave still works" Soph said and got up, Niamh nodded and sat up as well.

"So, can I stay here?" she asked and the other looked at her, unsure expression on her face:

"The phone call – "

"Pleaaase!" the younger girl begged: "Please, please, please Sophie! I'll look after the sheep when you get the phone call, I won't make any problems! I'll have to be back around eleven anyways! And I promise, I won't talk about Harry anymore!"

"Okay, okay! Fine, you can stay!" Soph laughed and Niamh jumped onto her feet: "Yeah! Goodies, I mean. I'll get the food, will be back in five minutes!"

And with that she left the caravan and Soph alone, who listened to her steps on the grass.

"So, then let us pray you old, stubborn kitchen helper work" Soph said and turned on her microwave – at least she pushed the lever, which the microwave considered to ignore. She sighed and pulled at the cable, accidentally unplugging it. Plugging it in again and making sure it was plugged in tightly did nothing at all.

"Damn you" she cursed and got down on her knees, checking the power strip. It was turned on, unplugging and plugging it in again did exactly as much as before. Now she had to go outside, looking after the transformer. It was connected to the car batteries, three in number since she had no use for a motor and stuff anymore. They were recharged by the O'Briens every week when Soph was there – whether it was needed or not.

And the transformer was alright, she checked the cable connecting it to the batteries which was okay as well, so there was only one possibility left …

"I'm back! Does the microwave work?" Niamh asked when she spotted Soph sitting on the steps to the caravan.

She smiled bashfully: "Would you be so nice and get Ian, Niamh? And better tell him to go by car."

"Oh man, really?! We just checked the damn batteries a week ago!"

When Niamh ran back to her house, Soph sighed and looked into the sky, the pot full of stew on her lap.

I really hope your day is a tad bit better, brother mine, I really do.