Over an hour later, Gwen still couldn't shake that bad feeling, even as she stood over the stir fry sizzling in the pan. Much to her relief, Connor and Murphy had suggested cooking tonight rather than ordering out. She had taken over stirring the contents of the pan, Connor was slicing a loaf of bread, and Murphy had run to the nearest store for more beer (go figure). She was happy for the opportunity to focus her attention on something other than her bad feelings, but even as she absent-mindedly stirred the rice and chicken, she couldn't stop thinking about that man.

Who had he been? Was he even someone to be worrying about? Was she just being paranoid? Maybe he was no one. Maybe he was part of the mafia. Had he been following her? Would he find out where the Saints lived, all because of her? Would she wake up tonight to a group of mafia men storming in through a door, guns drawn?

Gwen shook her head, aware that she was being stupid when the mobsters she had imagined breaking down the door were wearing pin-striped suits and holding tommy guns. Chances were high that he had been a no body, and that it had just been Gwen's paranoid mind playing tricks on her. It had happened a lot the first couple of days she had been back at the apartment. Every slight noise in her apartment had been someone trying to break in; the man behind her on her way to the bank had been part of the mafia waiting to grab her again; the car parked in front of her apartment building had been on a stake out, waiting for her.

Each theory had been dashed against the rocks by some mundane activity, finally convincing Gwen that she needed to stop being so on edge and return to daily life. Now, despite the fact that there was a mini armory in the closet down the hall and she was in an apartment with three men more than capable of using it, Gwen felt that paranoia creeping back up on her. Well damn it all if she was going to let it get to her.

Deeming the stir fry done, Gwen moved the pan to one of the cool burners and turned the stove off. She slipped around Connor and grabbed four plates from the cabinet and set to work setting the table.

"Will Da be eating with us?" she asked, pulling out a handful of forks and knives.

"Aye," Connor answered as he finished up the potatoes.

"Where is he?"

"Dunno. He's gone a lot during the days. We never know what he's up to and he won't tell us. Murph and me figure it has somethin' t'do with the jobs." Connor shrugged. "But he'll be here for dinner."

"Oh," Gwen answered boringly, managing to fit the roll of paper towels on the small table.

The front door opened and Murphy entered with two plastic bags of beer. "I'm back," he announced, unnecessarily. The door was shut against the frigid night air, and he entered the kitchen to set both bags down on the counter. "Da not home yet?" he asked, looking around. Connor shook his head, depositing a couple slices of bread on everyone's plate. Gwen busied herself with cleaning the pan she had used to make the stir fry in while Murphy set a bottle of beer at each place setting. Just as she was rinsing the pan, the door opened and Da walked in.

"Somethin' smells good," he greeted, draping his coat over the back of a chair and coming to stand just outside the kitchen area. The four of them squeezed in around the small table, and Gwen looked over the make-shift meal. It wasn't high dining cuisine, but it looked good nonetheless.

"Are ya alright, Gwen?" Da asked suddenly and in his usual blunt way, and Gwen glanced up quickly, startled out of her thoughts. Had she been wearing her thoughts on her sleeve again?

"What? No, I'm fine. Sorry, just thinking," she answered, hastily covering up by taking a few eager bites of hot stir fry. It seemed to be enough, because the three men went back to their own meals, leaving Gwen to pick at her own in peace.

-------------------------------

"I'm going for a walk," she announced, pulling on her trusty lime green coat and tying the belt around her waist.

"I'll go with you," Connor and Murphy chorused together, both shooting each other annoyed looks as though the one had purposefully copied the other.

"No," Gwen declined, looping a scarf around her neck. "I want to go alone, if that's alright. I'll stay close by, and you showed me the neighborhood on the way home. I'll just make the block." It was obvious by the looks on the twins' faces that neither one were comfortable with the idea, causing her to sigh. "Look, I just want some fresh air and room to think. And I still have my pepper spray!" She pulled it out of her pocket and wriggled it in her fingers as proof.

"Gwen, this isn't exactly a safe part of town," Connor began, rubbing his chin and frowning at her.

"Aye, it's no fucking cake walk," Murphy agreed. Gwen was beginning to feel annoyed; all she wanted to do was take a short, quick walk, by herself. She needed the space! And yet, she knew they meant well and that they were probably right; she shouldn't be going anywhere by herself, especially at night. But it still made her feel trapped, which made her restless, which made her irritable. All of which led back to her need to be by herself for a bit.

"Please," she pleaded, trying not to sound annoyed. "If I'm not back in five minutes you can come looking for me, but please just let me take a quick walk alone."

"Alright." It was Connor who hesitantly agreed first, followed by a reluctant nod from Murphy. She gave both of them a grateful smile, grabbing her cell phone out of her purse and heading out the door.

The night air was frigid, and there was ice on the steps as Gwen picked her way to the street, her breath coming out as a puff of steam. Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Gwen started off down the street, her arms pressing against her body in order to keep some heat. A stiff, icy wind whipped past, tugging at the loose ends of her hair and causing Gwen to shiver. It was freezing and damp and miserable, but at least she was alone. Cold air was always good for clearing thoughts anyways.

Pushing the swarming net of thoughts to the back of her mind, Gwen inhaled a deep breath, blinking against the cold and turning her head up to the overcast sky. Her pace was kept brisk, and soon she was turning the first corner of the block she was making, striding quickly down the darker street. Connor and Murphy were right about their neighborhood, if Gwen could go off looks alone. It didn't bother her, though; this was, after all, the girl who took shady back alleys as a shortcut to and from work. Then again, she reasoned, that same girl had gotten kidnapped by the mob, mistaken for someone else, shot, saved, almost kidnapped again, and was now living with the most infamous outlaws since Billy the Kid.

Christ, a lot could happen in just two weeks.

Again, Gwen frowned, her thoughts inevitably returning to her current situation. It was impossible to live with the Saints for any extended amount of time. She had her rent to pay and cell phone bill and other such things she couldn't just drop. Then there was her family to consider, and Clover, of course. She had her job to maintain, and friends to keep in contact with. If she just dropped off the face of the earth, she was certain the entire Boston Police Department would be forced out onto the streets to look for her.

No, something would have to be done. She could not stay with the Saints indefinitely, and she'd have to make time to see her friends and call her family. Gwen turned the next corner. Perhaps she'd give her mom a ring right now, just to let her know that she loved her. Pulling out her lime green phone, Gwen flipped it open and pressed the button that opened her address book.

It was like getting hit with a truck. The sheer force of the impact sent her flying into the brick wall of the building she had been circling, her phone flying out of her hand. Dancing dots of color exploded before her eyes as her head made sharp contact with the stone, and for a moment she was completely disoriented; up was down, down was up, and the world was tilting. Or was it just her? Rough hands grabbed at her arms suddenly, turning her around and shoving her, hard, against the wall so that her cheek was pressed against cold brick. Both of her arms were held tightly behind her back, and she tried twisting her neck around to see who was holding her, but the effort was futile; it was too dark and it was too extreme of an angle.

The world froze. It was strange; part of her was terrified, but another part was totally serene. She knew she should be freaking out, that she should be struggling with all her might to escape, but for some reason she really wasn't that afraid. Maybe it was the redundancy of the situation, or maybe she was just getting better at handling these things.

"Marco knew you hadn't left the city," a harsh voice whispered at the back of her neck. "He told us to keep an eye out for you." He pressed her harder against the wall, his face so close to her ear she could feel the prickling of his stubble against her skin. "He'll be so pleased when I bring him your dead body."

"Andretti will want me alive, not dead," she answered coldly, still feeling shockingly calm. Maybe numb would be a better word for it, but she didn't feel the heart pumping adrenaline coursing through her veins like she had the last two times.

"Shut up!" the man snarled, slamming her harder into the wall. She felt something sharp prick at the back of her neck, and an involuntary shudder run through her body. "Marco doesn't give a shit about you. I'm going to-"

But what exactly he planned on doing, Gwen never found out (though she could guess). He had stopped abruptly, mid sentence, and after a brief silence Gwen felt his hold on her slacken. Energy suddenly pouring back into her, Gwen pushed off the wall, and to her surprise the man stumbled backwards, dropping to his knees before finally collapsing altogether, face-first, on the sidewalk. Gwen stared at his limp form, eyes wide and confused as she stood there, unable to move. It was the clicking of heels that finally caused her to snap her gaze back up.

The lithe figure of a woman was walking towards her, swathed in a strapless red satin gown that hugged her gentle curves and then split at the knee to expose her slender legs. Her black hair was left loose without any ornamentation, and the iron grey eyes that peeked out from behind a few stray strands of hair were completely unreadable. A gun was clutched in her right hand as she walked right up to the guy and pulled his shoulder out of the way, exposing a dart sticking out of his neck. She yanked it out and moved back to the street, tossing it in the drain gutter before finally turning her attention to Gwen.

Surprisingly enough the woman smiled, an action Gwen wouldn't have been able to manage even if she had wanted to. "Hi, Gwen," the woman said, her words almost kind. "My name is Salem, but you might know me better as Sophia."

---------------------------

"How long has it been?" Murphy asked his brother. Both were sitting at either end of the couch, pretending to watch what was flicking across the television. At the question, Connor turned to look at Murphy and shrugged.

"Not five minutes," he answered, seeming completely calm save for the stiffness in his shoulders. That had always been the way things were; Murphy would fidget, tap his foot, or chew on his nail when anxious, and Connor would simply sit statue still, totally immobile as though he had been petrified.

"Do ya think we made a mistake, lettin' her go by herself?"

Again, Connor just shrugged, turning to stare at the commercial flashing on the TV screen. "We didn't have much of a choice, Murph. We can't hold her fuckin' hostage."

"I just have a feelin'," Murphy continued, watching his brother instead of the TV. He noticed a flicker of worry cross Connor's eyes, along with the very brief furrowing of his brow.

"Aye, myself as well."

"Maybe we should go look for her," Murphy suggested, his foot tapping about a mile a minute.

"We'll give her a couple more minutes, like we said we would. And then we'll go lookin' for her."

Murphy sighed, knowing his brother was right. He still couldn't shake the intuitive feeling that something was happening, though, and it made him restless. Running a hand across his dark hair, he leaned his head back against the couch, forcing himself to try and sit still. There had been something in the way Gwen had acted all afternoon, ever since they had started the walk home from McGinty's, that had set him on alert. Both of them had noticed the difference in her, and although neither knew what the fuck had happened, they knew it couldn't have been good. And now she had run off by her fucking self? Aside from the typical dangers of a run-down Irish neighborhood, there were those fucking mafia bastards to think of. The chances of them finding her here were slim, but there was always a chance.

Chewing nervously on his thumb, Murphy cast another glance at his brother, watching him stare unseeingly at the television screen. He was just as fucking worried as he was.

Fuck it.

Standing up, Murphy grabbed his jacket off one of the chairs and started pulling it on, ignoring the look he was getting from his brother. He pulled the gun out of the pocket and checked to make sure it was loaded before slipping it back in. If there was one thing he learned from being a Saint, it was that you should always, always trust your instincts.

"Where the fuck are ya goin'?" Connor asked finally when Murphy refused to look at him.

"Where the fuck does it look like I'm goin'?" Murphy shot back.

"Murph-"

"It's almost been five fucking minutes, Connor! Jesus fucking Christ!"

Connor sighed, running a hand over his face as he stood up and grabbed his own jacket. "Fine, but I'm coming with you."

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((AN- Okay, another ridiculously late update. School is out in like three weeks, and then I'll be updating lots more, I hope. This chapter is short, I know, but I'm hoping the excitement made up for it! Thank you ALL for the wonderful reviews! I hope, Nyah, that this is an acceptable "higher level." And betty? You made my day! Also, upon scanning over some "Da" sequences, I think I agree. He should be a bit gruffer, so I'mma try and add that in more. Again, thanks to ALL my reviewers for your words of compliment and critique! I truly appreciate it!))