Title: When the past catches up to present

Disclaimer: I do not own George, Joey, Vincent, or pretty much everybody else. I do, however, own Megan Lezzari, but in the old case that Megan 'Maggie' Lezzari is real, I do not actually own her.

Summary: Three men, who form a hit crew, go to Las Vegas to get hired, but what happens when one of the men realizes that he knows the target? Will he try to make a mends or will he go through with the job?

A/N: This is based on the USA TV Christmas movie, three wise guys. It doesn't fit the story line exactly, but it does involve all of the characters.

A/N: This story probably sucks, but oh well. What author at one point or another doesn't think that their story is horrible? Anybody got some ideas for the storyline? I don't want to go along exactly with the movie, so if you want to give me ideas, just remember it's a mobster/criminal-type romance story.

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"What happened to you, sweetie?"

After the whole seeing Joey again thing, I did what I had always done: Ignored the problem, went to a casino, and gambled. For some reason, whenever I'd go to a casino and play a game or two of poker, my other problems outside of the table seemed pointless. When I had a nice beer and poker buzz going, I took my cue, and drove back to my apartment. Joey's face as I drove off earlier, was still evident in my mind. I walked back in to my apartment, and the first thing I heard was Shirley shreaking at me from the sofa.

"Hi Shirl."

"The way you ran out of the penthouse earlier made me worry. Are you okay?"

"I'm alright, I promise. I just needed some fresh air."

"I think you needed more than fresh air. I think you need room away from that Joey fellow that Murray's got working for him now. What happened between you two?"

"Nothing happened, Shirley. We just used to know each other, that's all."

"Sweetie, I know the look of a broken heart when I see one. You saw him and it's like your heart broke all over again. Now, sit down here on the sofa, and tell me what happened."

I went back into the bedroom, digging in the back of my closet until I found an old box, then I walked back into the living room.

"What's that?"

I ignore Shirley's question, as I open the lid to the box and take out the invitation on top, handing it to her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Robert Matelli and Ms. Lynda Garcia request your presence at the marriage of their children, Joseph Andrew Matelli and Megan Grace Lezzari. Oh man, Maggie,"

We each reached into the box, taking out pictures and other random memorabilia from Joe and I's relationship. One picture that I had was of Joe and I standing together in t-shirts and jeans, with our backside facing the camera. We both had turned our heads and were facing the camera, smiles plastered on our face. It was taken about a month before we split up.

"Joey and I have known each other since we were kids. We went to the same elementary school, junior high, and high school. We had been best friends since like first grade, and everybody knew not to mess with one of us because the other would be there in a heartbeat and would tear your into shreds. I mean, that's how much we cared about each other. In high school, we did start dating. When we went to college, Joe and I moved into our own apartment, and stayed together. My freshman year of college, Joe had said that we should get married one day. It was in no way a perfect proposal, but we didn't need perfect. We thought love was going to be enough. But, just like with my dad, the whole Las Vegas lifestyle was too much for Joe, and he ended up sleeping around with a showgirl."

"Sweetie, if I had known,"

"But you didn't, so it's okay. Let's just drop it."

We sat for the rest of the night, talking about random things, trying to keep my mind off of Joey. At about midnight, there was another knock on my door.

"Yeah?"

"This is for Maggie Lezzari. Some guy payed me to bring it up here."

The guy left and I took the flowers back into the apartment.

"Who are those from?"

"Joey. He wants to talk."

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

"For the first time, no."