THANK YOU for your wonderful reviews! ToughGirl and CatalystCos, you made me so happy I could have cried...

So, as promised, this epilogue is a set-up for a sequel (but not only).

The sequel is a Boondocks Saints / Walking Dead crossover titled "Don't Let Go of my Hand" for which I'm going to post a first chapter right away.

So, check it out and see you all there!


Epilogue: After Laughter

(Wendy Rene)


I throw another log into the fireplace, cursing at the cold and yearning for our summer spent swimming in the river. The wind is howling outside; it's been raining for days now. Not that I mind that much, but I guess I miss my boys spending the whole day walking around in their birthday suits… Then again, snuggling in front of the fire isn't that bad either. I'm certainly not going to complain. Or just enough to get fussed over by those competitive brats that are too easy to trick.

I'm trying to put together a list of things we need to withstand winter here. I'm making a run to the city this afternoon since I have an appointment with my doctor for a check-up. I've been feeling a bit nauseous lately, and they fear a pellet might have been forgotten in my stomach, even after all this time.

Except, I can't focus while Murphy keeps distracting me.

Connor drew the short straw and is doing the dishes. We just lunched with some boiled potatoes and carrots we harvested a few days earlier. Lasts of the season probably. There's not a lot of money left from the Russian briefcase, though we're not worried. We truly don't need much. And next year, if our Lord permits it, we'll start living off our sheep's wool.

"I still think we should get some dvds for the long winter nights…" Connor says from the kitchen. "We'll go watch them at the house or something."

I don't know, since we're usually exhausted by the end of the day. None of us was particularly used to the country life before; it's harder than we thought, even though we love it. Each night, we all fall into an early righteous sleep after an entire day spent outside, fixing up the place, tending crops, watching sheep or chopping wood, whatever the weather. And of course, all the sex we're having.

Apparently, there is no getting bored of each other. Each day, my boys seem to find new ways to take care of me. Right now, for example, while his brother is putting away our plates, Murphy managed to remove my shoe and sock so he could knead into the sole of my foot. Although he keeps tickling me on purpose between moan-inducing massages.

Then, his fingers graze up my calf and I jolt, kicking him involuntarily. He uses that as an excuse, however, to grasp both my legs and lock them in his arm, while his teeth retaliate on my thigh. Crafty bastard. My hand is instantly in his hair, tugging on it unabashedly; he deserves it.

But he's already pulling me down to him, so his lips can find skin at the hem of my pants.

"I'm going to be late…"

"Uh-huh." He doesn't care.

His sneaky fingers are already crawling under my shirt to find me braless and shivering. His tongue skims the edge of my panties and my body treacherously arch under his touch. He doesn't undress me. He just nuzzles between my thighs and fools around with my nipples until they're hard and tender. Damn, I can't help it; he's playing me like a fiddle.

My eyelids are heavy with want when he looks up to me. And I can distinctly see a smug smile that I'd want to slap off his face. Though those piercing eyes, watching closely as I squirm under him, could be enough to push me over the edge. And that tongue swiftly licking those thin lips have my breath hitching in my throat.

But his fingers, which were digging in my skin a second ago, suddenly disappear. He softly slaps my ass before standing up:

"Ye're right, hun, better not be late."

Motherfucker.

"Connor!" I whine like a spoiled child, hoping his twin will swoop in like the savior I know he is.

And of course he does. Connor finds my lips with his, like they're just landing home. His kisses are always passionate. He pushes me further into the couch and ravish me with his tongue until I'm left breathless.

I push back. I want to straddle him, to make sure he doesn't escape like his brother did. I want to make Murphy sorry he ever taunted me as he watches me fuck his brother silly.

Though Connor just lifts me up and gets me on my feet easily, before he slaps me lightly as well:

"Come on, love, ye wouldn't want ta leave that doctor waiting."

I don't fucking care!

They're both laughing at my dismayed expression. But, despite their jesting, I know what's going on in their pants.

"Well I hope ye both remain hard as hell until I come back. That'll teach ye."

"C'mere, hun, don't sulk." Murphy reaches for me but I dodge him deftly, going for my coat.

"See, ye two can jerk each other off for all I care!" I stick my tongue out at them.

They both groan in frustration. Good. They don't like it when I joke about that, but I know if I keep bringing it up, they'll end up more and more on board with the idea. I can't help my fantasies going overboard; I'm only human and, let's face it, they're too pretty for anyone to keep their sanity. So, I'm playing the long game on that one…

I snatch my list of groceries: "So, anyway. That's it?"

"Em… Soap." Connor is the one sulking now, but he's also the practical one of us three.

"Right. I'll get a different one for each of ye, so ye can't trick me anymore…" See, I can be practical too.

"That's right, do that. Then we'll just swap and fool ye even more." Murphy laughs.

"Except we can't now ye told her, ye eejit."

"Well, now she won't know if we did or didn't, so we can drive her as crazy as we want, brother!"

God! They're evil.

"Why am I always the one being tortured is what I wonder…" They both shrug with a mean smile. "Next time," I muse, "I vote for Murphy's turn. I'm sure he deserves it for some reason."

Connor laughs before he's interrupted by his brother: "Or, we could tie Conn' up to a chair and force him to watch us."

"Hey-"

"I like that," I cut in. "Only if it's still yer turn afterward and I get to tease ye till ye beg."

"Wait-"

"And some more." I insist.

I'm ready to head out now that they're both a little riled up. No one messes with me and remains unpunished...anymore.

I have learned from experience, however, to never leave them without at least a goodbye kiss. Last time I did, I was deprived of them for three months. So I slow down; that's my first mistake.

I'm suddenly pushed against the cold stone wall, and my hands fly flat against it so I'm not crushed. Then, instead of swiftly escaping while I still have the time, I wonder which one it is and try to turn their way. Second mistake.

Connor's soft stubble brushes against my ear: "No one ties me up."

It should have sounded like a statement, but all I can hear is provocation. Like he's daring me to do it. So I raise my eyebrows and turn a defiant smile his way. Damn. Third and last mistake.

His hands violently yank down my pants and my knickers with it. He's possessive, demanding, dominant. And damned if I don't love it. I can barely brace myself before he enters me. He fills me completely. Though I'm already wet for him. Then starts a fierce back-and-forth, sliding and slamming inside me. It is blinding and sublime. Dirty and wild. It's fast and strong, up against the wall. I take it with my eyes shut tight, goading him to be rougher even. He obliges gladly, and I end up scratching my cheek against the bare stone, yelping and moaning with each forceful thrust.

He unloads inside of me with a loud bestial growl that has me shuddering. I came; I'm breathless and hazy; yet I still lust for more.

I already want him again while I can feel his sperm pooling between my legs. The fact that he is removing his shirt to wipe it certainly doesn't help. And I moan again when his knuckles brush the tender skin inside my thighs.

Though he briskly pulls my pants back up. Then he kisses me softly on the cheek, almost an apology for his bad manners. Almost. Neither of us is sorry.

"See ye tonight, love. Don't take too long."

Oh, I'm definitely coming back for more as soon as possible.

When I turn to find Murphy, he is right there. Leaning against the wooden door, his eyes darkened and his saucy smile promising trouble.

Though when I extend a hand to him, he only takes it and opens the door.

A whirlwind of thin droplets whooshes inside, but Murphy is already leading me out. So, I promptly put on my raincoat to follow him to the truck. He goes to open the door like the gentleman he's usually not.

However, his wet grown hair is sticking to his face, beads of water dripping on his skin, making him damn irresistible. As if I could ever resist him anyway. So, I figure I must still have a few minutes to spare.

I push him against the truck's door. He's surprised enough to let me. So I can rise on the tip of my toes to crash my lips on his. I can feel him chuckle. Our faces are drenched by the storm. But I'm not letting him slip away from me this time. I know he's still hard from before, from teasing me and from witnessing his brother and I. I simply need to take advantage of it.

My hand is already snaking on his abs, pushing up his soaked woolly sweater, while I suck on his pulse point. And I hear a low groan when I clasp the bulge growing between his legs.

"Did ye like what ye saw, Murph?"

I don't wait for his answer, my fingers already slipped inside his loose pants. I start caressing and slowly pumping him. When his head falls backward, with his eyes closed and his lips parted, I know I won. Though I'm not yet satisfied.

I manage to wrestle one leg out of my pants without letting them touch the mud. While I'm bent there, I can open the buttons of his jeans and let my tongue wander for just a second. When I straighten up, his frustration is visible. So, I hook my bare leg around his ass; now his erection is pressed between us. Thus I can, once again, prop myself on my toes to reach his ear. And I whisper the final blow:

"D'ye reckon ye can do better?"

That does the trick.

In an instant, he has lifted my other leg over his hips, spun us around, and slammed me onto the hood of the truck. Now we don't waste any more time. I position him to my entrance so that he only has to push in. And when he finds me damp, and not just from the rain, he doesn't need more persuading.

Suddenly he's pounding inside me as if nothing else ever mattered. He's pushing me against the coachwork as if I could be molded into it. I hang on to him and meet him thrust for thrust. I can't get enough. But when I try to incite him some more, I find that I have no voice. He's taken everything. And he's giving everything back tenfold. I just have to take it.

It builds inside of me to its peak. And as if it wasn't enough, he pushes up my coat and shirt, exposing me to the cold rain, snaking his head under and finding my tits, pinching them with his lips, whipping them with his tongue. I'm completely lost in the sensations.

I open my eyes wide at once, when I feel it unravelling. But that's when I discern Connor's shape in the threshold. He just stands there watching. With his big bright eyes unblinking, his hand in his pants and a naugthy smile on these luscious lips. And I come crying.

Murphy follows closely, growling and panting. He peppers kisses on me, everywhere, sucking the drops of water streaming down my face, making me laugh giddily, as always.

"Was that what ye had in mind, hun?" he asks.

"Just about." I wink at Connor behind him, and Murphy follows my glance back to his brother.

His tongue in my ear draws my attention back to him, so I gaze at his stormy eyes when he smirks: "We're still definitely tying Connor up when ye get back, hun."

I beam at him: "Ye and I are just one mind, my love."

I finally jump back on my feet to reach for the truck's door. I get another peck on the cheek before I leave. And a wave from Connor.

I laugh. I'm only leaving for a few hours but we're so used to being together that it seems like we're saying goodbye for months to come.

"Drive safe, Tin'."

"I'll be back before ye know it."

"I doubt that…"

When I drive back to them that night, however, it truly seems to me like I've been gone for much longer. Probably because my world has had time to change. Everything will be different now. And I don't know how I'm going to tell my boys.

I park near the house. I can see candles have been lit inside; night falls earlier each day. The rain has stopped. So, I'm a little surprised no one is coming out to greet me. They must have heard the truck's engine.

I take a deep breath before entering. I'm scared to give them the news. Even though I can already surmise how they will react. For once, I'm not scared for them; I'm scared for myself. Then again, as I tread towards them, my mind is assailed with images of our future here. Of what we will become. Of how I know they'll grow and rise to the occasion.

And suddenly, I can't help a silly grin widening on my face. Suddenly I can't wait for our destiny to unfold.

Then I walk in.

My smile fades as I'm immediately struck by the weight of the atmosphere.

Noah is here. And the twins have traded their warm country clothes for the black pea coats they used to wear. They have cut their hair and shaved. Their rosaries are hanging around their neck.

And just like that, all my dreams shatter.

"What happened?" I hear myself ask in a blank voice.

Murphy's eyes are to the floor, of course. But Connor is staring back at me. In his wide anxious look I can read how sad he is. His clenched jaw tells me how angry he feels. And in his whole posture I can see his determination. But he can't bring himself to tell me.

So, Noah speaks up: "Sit down, child. We received news from Boston."

I don't move. But Connor pulls a chair for me. Maybe I'd rather be seated for whatever I'm about to hear.

"I'm sorry, Tine," he finally finds the courage to say. "It's Father McKinney. He's dead."

Tears well up in my eyes immediately, and I swallow hard, trying to take the blow with some dignity. The Monsignor had been a good friend, truly a father figure to me, during my whole stay there. But the twins had known and loved him for way longer. I have to be strong for them. This time, I have to be there to help them through their grief.

But then, in their silence, I understand that I missed something. They're leaving. Why?

"Why-" But then it hits me: "Who killed him?"

"Someone that wants to draw us out," Connor admits.

It's a trap. And they have no choice but to run right into it. Because there is no way they'll let this pass. It's bad enough that they'll feel responsible for another friend's death. They cannot let anyone think they can get away with that. I understand:

"Then ye have to kill them."

Connor nods and throws two pennies on the table. Murphy finally raises his eyes to meet mine.

"Every last motherfucker that had anything to do with it."

I nod too. Then glance at Noah. He is not trying to talk them out of it. I won't either. Though they're all looking at me expectantly.

"We've made our choice," Connor adds. "And we would rather ye remain here." He darts a glance at his brother before continuing: "But ye're free to do as ye prefer, Tin'."

Of course, I would prefer to go with them. Of course, I too want to avenge my friend and mentor. Of course I would never dream about abandoning them in their hour of need.

However…

However, I have a few words to say, that will tip the balance a certain way. Without the shadow of a doubt. So, it hurts as I say it. Because it has to mean we will be separated once again.

"I…" I gather my strength and wait for them both to look me in the eyes.

"I'm pregnant."


To be continued…


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