Everything hurt. Her head, her arms, her legs, her right hip, and a suspiciously tender spot on her ribs as she breathed. Face pressed into the soft warm down of the pillow she contemplated and catalogued her pains, noting each and trying to recall how it happened. The hip, for instance, was struck by a badly aimed dive for cover, misjudging the distance between bed and wall. Walls, she would hasten to remember then, were not forgiving when impacted. Cover had been achieved as she had slid, biting her lip, down into the slim space, breathing dust and fear. A rosary in one hand, a gun in the other, and hope that neither would have to be used as she half sat, half crouched, peering over the bed, waiting. Her lips pursed against the pillowcase. Her shoulder probably ached form that same collision that had done in her hip.
She breathed deep, inhaling the light scent of lavender. Another bed, another place that was not her own. Steeling herself for her actions, knowing that her head would protest any movement, Aislinn rolled over. She was grateful to find, once she had managed to open her eyes, that the room was dim. Lines of bright light shone on the ceiling, spilling around the top edges of dark drapes that shaded the window. It was a guest room of the type you'd find at Aunt Martha's- well appointed and littered with throw pillows on any surface for sitting or sleeping. Obviously being in the employ of the government was not a bad thing. Slowly she sat up, her head throbbing, and she sat still, eyes half closed, staring at her hands in her lap, trying to reconcile the events of the past twenty-four hours.
.-.-.-.
Monsignor McNamara smiled benignly at his flock. 'The Mass is ended, go in peace.' He pronounced, adding a typically Irish wink at the end, earning smiles from even the most Stoic parishioners. The pianist struck up the opening chords of the tune 'Simple Gifts' as the cantor asked the congregation to open their hymnals, that today's recessional would be 'Lord of the Dance'. Aislinn sang the familiar tune, a smile lighting her face. The Monsignor nodded at the little trio, a hint of curiosity in his features, as he passed back up the aisle with the rest of the celebrants. The second verse had just begun when the brothers slipped out of the pew, both kneeling and crossing themselves. Linn stuttered through a line, edging to the end of the pew, wondering where they were going and if she was to follow. She watched, intrigued, as they approached and bowed before the altar. The entered the sanctified space and each bowed to kiss the great Christ's feet. A beat, they stood, reverent, then stepped from the altar space, bowing again and retreating back up the aisle. Aislinn noted no one even blinked or missed a note as the brothers had gone through their motions, as if they were all familiar with the ritual. Linn couldn't imagine Father Macklepenny allowing something like that, no matter how reverent and pious it was, to occur in his church. Murphy motioned her out of the pew as they approached, the brothers slowing as she stowed the hymnal and knelt, crossing herself, as she stepped from the pew.
Outside the brothers were quite, following with another ritual- lighting their cigarettes on the steps, as Linn waited in her borrowed sunglasses for them. They trotted down the steps, agreeably chatting with each other, Aislinn feeling left out in their wake. They didn't seem to notice the monsignor watching them as they passed the rectory, but Aislinn caught sight of him in the window, and locked eyes for a moment. She wondered what he knew about the brothers, if he'd heard their tales in the privacy of the confessional. She tore her gaze away, focused ahead as Connor punched Murph in the arm for something, both of them laughing. It took her a second to realize something.
'Not to be picky, but don't you guys live in the opposite direction?' she asked, hurrying her steps to push herself in between the brothers. Murph laughed, and turned to grin at her.
'Aye, but doncha want breakfast?'
'Oh.' Now Connor laughed. Aislinn hated it, she never realized in the mornings that she was hungry until someone mentioned it to her. The brothers led her a few blocks up to a small restaurant, and Connor held the door for her, ushering her into a hole-in-the-wall place that smelled absolutely wonderful. It was obvious the MacManuses were regulars, being hailed with a chorus of greetings from various patrons and most of the staff. Aislinn watched, bemused, as the lone waitress came up and delivered a peck on Murphy's cheek before leading them to a booth in the back of the restaurant. They sat, and as the boys chatted with the waitress she devoted herself to perusing the menu. Obviously she missed something when she felt a light kick against her leg. Her head snapped up, eyes wide as the waitress, Beki, according to her nametag, repeated herself.
'Coffee, hon?' Aislinn returned the smile, forcing her senses down from overdrive.
'Um, no. Tea, please.' The waitress scribbled and said she'd be right back. Aislinn looked across the table as the brothers relaxed, Murphy leaning back in the booth and Connor leaning forward with his elbows on the table. Aislinn, toyed with her silverware, and smiled at Connor. 'So this is where you guys sneak off to every morning, I was wondering why Mass suddenly took about two hours.'
Connor grinned. 'You've found us out.'
Murphy muttered, 'Next she'll want to go to the bar with us.'
Aislinn was quick to shake her head. 'Nah, breakfast is fine, and I'm sure you and your buddies don't want a woman ruining the fun.' She abruptly forced herself to stop finger her knife, and picked up the menu again. 'So what do you guys recommend?'
'Eggs' pronounced Murphy firmly, with Connor suggesting 'Pancakes.' Murphy rolled his eyes at his brother. 'How can you eat those things? First ya drown 'em in butter than pour on a gallon of syrup.' Murphy made a face.
'They're good that way!' Connor objected. 'At least I don't cover mine in an inch of salt. Gonna give yerself a heart attack, Murphy.' Lissie giggled at the good natured arguing, thinking she probably would go for eggs, usually avoiding heavy, sweet breakfast items, unless it was a cinnamon roll. Cinnamon rolls were her weakness in the mornings.
Murph sat up and puffed his chest out, 'Never happen. 'Sides, got me a good scare when that bugger popped out 'round that corner. Yer more likely to keel over from all that butter. Leavin' me and Da to do everythi…' Murphy shut up quickly, and he jerked as if he'd just been hit. He glared at Connor and muttered an apology at Aislinn. 'Sorry. Monopolizin' the conversation. Talk not fit for breakfast.'
Aislinn shrugged, but kept her mouth shut for a moment as Beki returned bearing coffee and tea for the table. 'The usual, guys?' she asked Connor and Murphy as she poured their coffee for them. The nodded, and Beki smiled at Linn. 'And for you?'
Hesitation, then 'Do you have cinnamon rolls?'
Beki winked. 'Only the best.' And Aislinn nodded, which sent Beki back on her way again. She opened poured hot water over the teabag in her cup, leaving it to steep as she got back on the subject it was obvious the brothers, Connor at least, wanted to avoid.
'Murph,' the darker haired twin looked up from doctoring his coffee with a couple packets of sugar. 'Look, I know you two aren't saints, that there's something going on. I don't know what, I have an inkling, but I'm not going to say anything. I owe you guys, so don't worry, I'm not going to go shout it from the rooftops or anything.' Connor was looking hard at her, and she calmly met his gaze.
'What we do, Aislinn…' he grimaced and reconsidered. 'We'll talk later, okay? You've got enough on you're plate without worrin' 'bout us.' She shrugged again, turning her attention to her tea. Murph leaned over to whisper in Connor's ear.
'Keepin' secrets from yer girlfriend ain't wise, Con.' Connor caught the smirk on his brother's face and replied in the same hushed tones 'Shuttup, Murph.'
.-.-.-.
contented after breakfast the three headed back to the MacManuses apartment, Connor carrying a little Styrofoam box containing a cinnamon roll for his Da, at Aislinn's insistence. The elder MacManus had been quiet and reserved since her arrival, perhaps more since their prior connection had been revealed. Connor and Murphy had admitted to her that he had been spending more time out of the apartment in the few days she'd been there. Aislinn felt guilty about displacing the old man, and was hoping the cinnamon roll would be some sort of a peace offering. Feeling that she'd overstayed her welcome put her a little ill at ease, but something else was adding to that now.
Even though she'd only smoked for a short time while she was away in California, the need to to focus on something else was overwhelming her. At a crosswalk she pestered Connor for a smoke, to the amusement of Murphy. She took a short experimental drag on it, trying not to cough. God, they were still awful. She looked away from the brothers, who were trying not to laugh at her. Her heart stopped as her eyes swept the opposite corner of the intersection. She coughed, and almost lost her cigarette as she tried to recover her voice. 'He…' she croaked, and the brothers instantly turned serious, 'He was in church.' Murphy rolled his eyes as Connor looked across the road to the man Aislinn was trying not to stare at.
'Aislinn, I think most of this neighborhood goes to that church.' Connor told her, trying to reassure her. The man across the street looked perfectly ordinary, nothing marked him as being out of place. Aislinn, looked back at Connor, disbelieving.
'No, he was in church. Came in late, sat in the back, didn't go up for communion. He…'
'Could've been sick, could've been going through RCIA, I mean, Aislinn, there's a hundred things that could've kept him in his pew.' Aislinn's argument was cut off as Murphy started to cross the street, Connor grabbing her arm and towing her along in step with him. 'You don't know, and you can't go around jumping at shadows.' Aislinn looked up at him, feeling as if she'd just been scolded.
'But…' she said lamely, but Connor gave her the same look that her father used to give her when she'd decided to pursue a dead argument. 'Fine, maybe you're right.' She conceded, sighing. Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulders, nodding at her feigned acceptance. Aislinn fought the urge to look over her should the last two blocks to the ramshackle apartment, but gave in as Connor held the door open for her.
'Its nothing, Aislinn.' He told her again, getting a sulky look in reply. He sighed, and followed her up the stairs. She had a right to be frightened, but whenever they did get out of the house, she did jump at shadows. Maybe it was time to call an old friend and get his help with the situation. He'd know what to do to help Aislinn out. That idea would return to him later, when Aislinn's concerns would prove not to be unfounded.
.-.-.-.