A/N: So here I am again posting another chapter. I thought I had expressed this earlier, but I'm going to say it again anyways. I am not forgetting Trista's pregnancy. Also, everything – and I mean everything – will be explained very soon, this week, I hope. I did not expect the reaction I have received, but it is a fun one. Here's a tip: broaden your minds.

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McGinty's was packed by the time the trio entered. It had been a week since Connor's incident, and the three had been back to their old selves, gallivanting around together all over the neighborhood for the past four days. Now the three musketeers made their way to their customary stools at the bar. Three Guinnesses slid across the bar to them from the other side where Patrick was deep in conversation with a rather done-up girl. "How long d'yeh tink before we have ta get our own drinks?" Trista joked.

"Half an hour," was Murphy's bet.

"Twenty minutes," put in Joseph Delaney, the man sitting to Murphy's left.

"He's not gettin' wif her!" called someone from behind them. "No way!"

Trista turned to see who it was: Thomas. She waved him over, and he accepted the invitation gladly, grabbing a stool next to Joe as it's occupant stood for the washroom. "Why d'yeh say dat?" she asked him.

"She may look cheap, but she's too good for him."

"He's right," this from Terry O'Donough, coming up behind them and slapping a hand on Connor's shoulder. "She's been out for this one here for ages."

"Oh aye?" Trista asked, thinking this far too good an opportunity to pass up. "Yeh got yerself an admirer dere, Connor! What d'yeh tink o' dat?!"

Murphy cackled with laughter. Trista was catching onto this bantering thing all too quickly and all too well. "Aye, Connor! D'yeh hear that?!"

"Aye, I 'eard it. I fuckin' 'eard it," he said, smiling and shaking his head. He took a swig of his beer.

"So how long before she's got Connor inta bed?!" Thomas called out now. Trista turned back toward the bar and her beer, sobered a little by that last comment. Joe and Terry were arguing over their bets. Murphy had quieted and was watching her. She gave him a look, an honest look, a hurt look. Then she looked away, and would say no more. She'd never admit it verbally, but Murphy knew what he'd seen and he knew what she'd meant.

Trista stared into her glass. It was empty, and Patrick was too busy with that girl to bother filling it. Suddenly, she rose from her stool and leaned over the bar, groping under the counter for a bottle. She found one, grasped the neck, and pulled it up over the bar. "Twenty minutes!" she declared. There was a roar from the group around her before the went back to their conversations. A moment later there came a tapping on her shoulder. "Not interested," Trista told the man, without even turning about. She received taps on her shoulder all the time, thought nothing of it. Another tap came quickly after, which she ignored. Apparently this was not what the tapper had envisioned when he'd approached, because now a hand gripped the back of her stool and spun her roughly around to face him.

"Hey!" came the shout from Connor and Murphy in unison, and they both spun around seconds after Trista. "Back off!" Murphy barked at him, Connor standing close behind him in silent agreement. But the man did not budge, and then Murphy hurled himself off of his stool and tackled the man to the ground; two beers, a shot, and a quick temper produced such effects now and again. Connor might've had the same response -- one beer and a highly protective nature produced similar effects -- but, luckily, he recognized the man. He stood from his stool and moved quickly to pull his tin off of Andrew. "What the fuck are yeh--"

"He's not ta be touched, Murphy," Connor insisted flatly. At Connor's tone, Murphy backed off.

Andrew straightened out his coat -- an obvious sign that he didn't belong if not attacking Murphy back right then and there wasn't enough -- and turned to Trista. "We need ta talk," he told her decisively.

Trista looked around at the faces of her friends and nodded, touching Andrew's arm as she moved through the crowd toward the back door in an invitation for him to follow her. Moments later, when they were safely outside and out of hearing range, Trista said, "What?"

"I thought you were off this story," he stated coldly.

"I am."

"Then what are you doing here?" and with that he crossed his arms and cocked his head satirically.

"Andrew, I lived this life for three months. Do you really expect me not to have made any friends?!"

"I didn't."

"You didn't get an in, either."

"I didn't because I'm not here to make friends. I'm here on a job."

"Right."

"You weren't here to make friends either."

"Well, I made them. I didn't come in thinking to make them, but you have to get close to people in order to learn anything. And in getting to know the people around here, I found friends, and better friends than ever I've had."

"You shouldn't have."

"No one can live without friends, Andrew. Contrary to what Art and Paul claimed, they were not rocks and they were not islands. Neither am I. Neither are you."

"I could live without those two." Trist knew he meant the MacManus twins.

"Murphy thought you were harassing me. He didn't mean it."

"That's beside the point, and not what I was referencing."

"What exactly were you referencing, then?"

"Trista, I've been working on the web. I may not have an in, but I have eye and I've been using them." Andrew shifted and took a breath. "Those two are dangerous. You should stay away from them."

"All Irishmen are dangerous," Trista retorted, "but they'd never do anything to hurt me."

"How sure are you of that?"

"Positive."

"Positive enough to bet your life?" Andrew challenged, knowing he could do no more than challenge.

Trista pursed her lips, shifted on her feet, and bore her eyes into Andrew. He was stepping on dangerous turf now, and it wasn't the twins he should be worried about. Trista shook her head at him, gathering her revulsion into one phrase: "You betchyer arse!" And then she was gone.

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A/N: Yay, Trista! I know you were all looking forward to Andrew being told off. I was too. Yay! Review please!