Being back in Ireland wasn't all it had cracked up to be for the boys; at least so far. The cottage was in shambles when they returned, and so many things had changed in the time they had been abroad. The scenery was different, familiar shops had closed down and newer ones opened their doors to the public, bringing in new faces as well. The Anvil was still around, However; it had changed a bit now that it was sans Wilson. A lot of the townsfolk agreed that under Sibeal MacManus' management it had changed for the better, being that he was also an ordained minister, and business was up that year to boot. Connor and Murphy hadn't had a chance to stop by since they had returned though; they'd had a lot of cleaning house to do, mentally and physically. But the cooler summer weather here made it much easier to ease back into rural life that August; they'd all be baking if they were still in Boston.

The twins bought a few new things for the cottage, including a television, albeit a crappy one. The two of them sat together on the overstuffed couch with their feet propped up on the hand-carved coffee table in front of them. Their father would have had a cow if he'd seen them sullying his work with their dirty boots. He was in the back yard, passing his time playing carpenter; skills left over from years ago, passed down to him by his father. Aside from making some new furniture for the house, he was able to make some decent money by selling a few of his pieces.

A futbol match had just gone into overtime while Connor and Murphy watched the players dash up and down the field, Murphy with an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth and Connor sipping a warming beer. Connor's features were squished as he stared at the TV, not really mentally digesting what was going on in front of him; his brows were furrowed together in discontent. Murphy glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, wondering why his brother seemed in such sour spirits today. He nodded to get Connor's attention and grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth so he could speak clearly. "What crawled up your arse and bit yeh?"

Connor took another swig of his beer and glanced toward the door, then back at the television set, salty look never leaving his face. He shrugged. "I don'e know." He grumbled. Murphy rolled his eyes and punched his brother in the shoulder. "Stop being such a-"

"I just fuckin' miss her, alright!" Connor burst up out of his seat, knocking his empty bottle to the floor. Murphy only looked down and nodded, then returned the cigarette to his mouth, letting the conversation lie. Connor fell back down into a sitting position, not saying another word. There was nothing else to say.

Murphy laughed all of a sudden, and Connor's head whipped toward him angrily. "What the fuck is so fuckin' funny?" he spat, but Murphy only returned his glare with a bewildered visage. "That wasn' fuckin' me." He mumbled through his cigarette. They both turned around to face the back door and their mouths dropped open.

Chrys beamed at them from the back of the house and burst out laughing again, bending over and clutching her sides. "You guys really are a useless mess without me!" she said, walking toward them and brushing faux tears from her eyes. "Look at this mess!" She said, motioning to the vast array of litter on the floor. "I was only gone for the weekend, and I was at the Buckley's, not in Bangladesh!" She leaned over the couch and kissed them both on top of their heads. Connor's face flushed, he was embarrassed that she'd heard his little outburst.

"I thought you were supposed to be gone another day?" Murphy said, pulling her from the other side of the couch and onto their laps. She shrugged. "The ewe wasn't in labor for that long, surprisingly. They didn't end up needing me any longer."

"So when do we get to bring the little lambs home?" Connor asked, snatching Murphy's fallen fag and putting it his own mouth, then lit it. Murphy gave him an evil stare, to which Connor merely shrugged as if to say "You snooze, you loose".

"They should be ready to come away from their mother in four or so weeks. They're giving us two females and one male so we'll have more than enough to start up with. We'll be sheering 'em in no time." She said, nuzzling her head into Murphy's neck.

Connor snubbed out the half smoked tar and went to kiss her neck, being careful of the scar tissue around her left shoulder. She'd been lucky, because the bullet had gone right through. It punctured her lung and missed her heart by inches. If Concezio hadn't been distracted by the other man calling to him, he would have gotten her in the head, where he'd originally been aiming.

But none of that mattered anymore. Not the pain of almost losing the most important person in their world, not the holes inside of them all that was left by the death of their best friend, not even the sinking feeling that they wouldn't be able to lay low back home forever. The only thing that mattered was that they were all alive, all reunited, all together as a family; however unconventional.

Chrysanthemum's mouth tweaked into the shape of a soft smile as she drifted off to sleep that night, cocooned between her rough and tumble twin lovers, thinking that even though so much shit had been thrown at her in her life, in spite of everything she'd lived through these last few years, she wouldn't trade one damn moment of it for anything; and at long last they were all back where they belonged.

-Fini-