After dinner, Patrick retired to bed for the night, leaving Catherine and Darragh in the kitchen. She sipped her tea, while he nipped Bushmills.

"I heard from the doctor today—blood test came back positive. The ultrasound is tomorrow at the Royal."

Blowing smoke from his nostrils, he placed his elbows on the table. Unwaveringly, he stared at Catherine, impressed she was remaining so unfazed.

"What time?"

"One. Kieran's gonna keep an eye on Carrigan and I'll meet him after."

Darragh had been hoping her appointment was early in the morning so he could go with her. Painfully aware that the child she was carrying wasn't his, Darragh knew he'd have to step up if he wanted a life with Catherine. He tried not to let it depress him. Instead, he chose to see the brighter side of it.

"Ya plan on telling your Da and Jimmy anytime soon?"

"My Da, yes. Jimmy, absolutely not."

"Caitie," he sighed, "keepin' it from him-"

"Is the best thing ta do. If word gets out, think of that it'll do to Kerrianne, to Fiona. It'll humiliate my parents and my brothers."

On the surface, Darragh understood Catherine's rational. She had already dragged those six people through hell, this would devastate them even more. This was the only way Catherine could think to save face, but there was one person in the entire question who she was forgetting about. Herself. Darragh didn't want to see Catherine flounder her reputation even more.

"Ya can't do that. If people think you don't even know who the father is, they'll think of you as a whore and that isn't true."

"One of my court-martial charges is fraternization. They already believe I'm a whore. Besides, you're the one who told me yesterday that I shouldn't care about shite like that."

Swirling the whiskey in his glass, Darragh watched the last ice cube dissolve. He had said that only because he thought she would be including Jimmy in the equation. This wasn't how he intended his advice to be received.

"Have you even thought this through? When he finds out, your Da is gonna want a name. What are you gonna tell him?"

"When I was in California, there was a bloke-"

"You plan to pin it on one of the blokes from SOA? Honestly, you're bein' an eejit if ya think there's no way this type of news won't travel to SAMCRO. Then what are ya gonna do? Let the poor bastard believe he's got a wee one in Norn Iron?"

Catherine's silence told Darragh all he needed to know. Maybe she wasn't the woman of integrity he had thought she was. Times of crisis did show people's true colors and he felt as though he was seeing Catherine's. If this was how she planned to handle her pregnancy, then Darragh wasn't sure if he wanted her to be anything more than a subordinate. Who was to say she would be honest with him about anything.

He had nothing left to say. Swallowing the last of his whiskey, Darragh then stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair.

"Where you goin'?" Catherine asked, despairingly.

He patronized. "If it pleases the Crown, I'd like to go home an' get some sleep. I'll be in south Armagh, so can I trust you'll do yer job without fuckin' Jimmy, gettin' a court-martial or endin' up arrested while I'm gone?"

"Go fuck yourself, Darragh."

Even he knew that was a low blow. He didn't mean a word of it, but he was too repulsed with Catherine's decisions to care that he hurt her feelings. As he watched her storm from the kitchen up to her bedroom, Darragh was left conflicted.

How Catherine chose to handle her pregnancy and future was something he didn't have a say in. He just wished she would take a breath and think things over before going through with anything. Her impulsivity was what always got her into trouble in the first place. All he wanted was to see her make good decisions for the first time in her life.

Scratching a little deeper, Darragh knew his push to be involved was little more than wanting to make sure she didn't screw up. Admitting that he was not only empathetic for Jimmy but also jealous, tasted like acid on his tongue. Darragh didn't think it was fair of Catherine to be keeping a father from his child as his mother had done to him. Secrets always came out eventually. Keeping this quiet for the unforeseen future would only end up destroying everyone more.

But, what stung Darragh the most was knowing that once the truth did come out, Jimmy would push to part of the baby's life. He wasn't sure if he could stay in Belfast and watch Catherine raise a child with someone else. Especially when that someone was as odious as Jimmy.

Darragh wanted to chase Catherine up to her room, but his pride stopped him. He figured she wanted nothing to do with him, or else she wouldn't have left. Slinging his jacket over his shoulder, Darragh headed out the backdoor to make the short walk home.

Laying in her bed, Catherine hugged one of her pillows. She kept her eyes glued to the door, praying with her mind, body, and soul that there would be a soft knock on the door. In the heat of the moment, running off seemed like the best idea as she just wanted to avoid a fight. Hearing Darragh say those things to her was crushing. She knew him as a man who didn't have a single cross bone in his body. Then she realized how stupid it was to think he would never snap like that. He was an IRA man—of course, he was angry. Unlike Jimmy, Darragh was just far better at directing his vexation towards their adversary.

If he had come up, Catherine wouldn't turn him away. As badly as she didn't want to fight, it was a fight that needed to happen. He never would have made a big deal of it if he didn't think she was making the wrong decision.

Still, she couldn't understand why Darragh had gotten so defensive about her idea of making people believe the father was someone from across the pond. Between the details of her court-martial slowly starting to leak, along with the clear fact that she'd never see any of the SAMCRO men again, it seemed like a nice easy way to wrap it.

And Darragh was wrong, word would never reach—True Army business stayed within the True Army, and SOA business stayed within SOA. As far as Catherine was concerned, this was True Army business.

Not one to back down from a fight, Catherine wouldn't be able to sleep unless she said her piece to Darragh. Tossing the pillow aside, she jumped out of bed and raced downstairs. Before she even reached the kitchen, she started talking,

"I don't expect ya-"

When she crossed the threshold to find he was gone, Catherine felt like she had been kicked in the gut. Her stomach rolled with nausea, she could feel bile burning the back of her throat. She had been so confident Darragh had stayed. He never walked away from a disagreement, but she changed the rules when she ran away and hid first. The blame couldn't be placed on him—she made him believe the conversation wasn't worth having.

Half-collapsing into a chair, Catherine hung her head. The moment those two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test, her intuition told her it would be yet another wedge keeping Darragh and her apart. She had wrecked Fiona's family with her selfish need to have Jimmy, it was only karma that the universe was keeping her from having what she wanted now.

They made better friends anyway.


Catherine grabbed her bag and keys, trying to sneak out before Patrick realized she was on the move. She felt awful for avoiding him as much as she had, but that was easier than lying to him if he asked where she was going.

Stepping out the front door, Catherine locked it. When she turned around, she couldn't believe who was there. Resting against the side of her car, Darragh wore a smile. His eyes were hidden behind a casual pair of aviator sunglasses.

They wouldn't be able to avoid each other forever because they enjoyed one another's company too much. It wasn't the first time they had quarreled, but it was usually about IRA operations.

Hearing Darragh make point of her past mistakes made her wonder if that's what he thought of her—someone who couldn't be trusted to stay out of trouble.

"I thought ya were supposed to be in south Armagh."

Darragh unfolded his arms and pulled her in once she was close enough. He planted a kiss on her lips to shut her up. Missing an arms dump was a rare occurrence for him, but making sure Catherine wasn't going to the Royal on her own took precedence. Plus, he had to apologize to her. Leaving on such an ugly note had been eating away at him for the night. He barely slept, and even got up and dressed at three in the morning to walk over and talk to her. The fear of Patrick beating his ass for upsetting Catherine stopped him.

"I'm an asshole and I'm sorry for sayin' that shite ta you last night. It wasn't fair-"

"No, you were right to say those things." Admitting defeat was tough for her. "I stayed up all night thinkin' and I realize it's selfish if I don't tell Jimmy. It would also be the worst mistake of my life to pin it on some other bloke. I made so many excuses during my relationship with Jimmy…it's time for me to finally grow the fuck up and take responsibility for what I've done."

"I wasn't bullshittin' when I said I'll be by your side. Every doctor's appointment, every ridiculously food cravin'. I'll even be there ta hold yer hair back when ya barf."

She chuckled at the adorning man, quickly blinking to subdue the tears. He was killing her with his ever-giving heart. "I don't want ya to feel like ya have to do it."

"I know; I just want to. I'm nearin' thirty and I'm ready to settle down. There's no one else I'd rather try and do that with than you."

"Jesus, Darragh. Why couldn't ye have said that to me, I don't know, five bloody years ago?"

"We weren't ready for each other." He took the sunglasses off his eyes and hooked them into the collar of his shirt. "You'd just gotten together with Lorcan, and I had a serious girl in Donegal. Then you needed to get Jimmy outta your system, and I was a total dick when I got out of Maghaberry. We both had a lot of growin' we still needed to do."

"Aye. Ya were a dick, so you were."

Darragh snorted at her agreement.

"Besides, ya don't even know if a relationship would work between us-" Catherine was cut off.

"I'm not askin' you to run down to St. Peters with me and get married. All I'm sayin' is that we owe it to ourselves to try. Somethin' grand can build between us and I know I'm not the only one who thinks that."

Catherine took a breath and averted her eyes to the street for a moment. He was right. That lust she had felt towards Jimmy had never been there with Darragh, and she mistook its absence as a sign there was nothing between them. It wasn't just sex that she had craving with him, it was an emotional connection that went deeper than sexual appetite.

Their story was the furthest thing from love at first sight, but in a strange way that filled Catherine with more hope. They had the foundation of friendship. She was curious to see where it could go from there.

"Let's do this, then. Let's try. But, Jimmy won't let me go easily, especially when he finds out about the baby." She warned.

Darragh wrapped an arm around her shoulders and slipped his aviators back on. "I had the UDA all over me in prison. I think I can handle Jimmy O'Phelan."

I don't know, Catherine thought, even the Ulster Defense Association dreads confrontation with Jimmy O'Phelan.


"Are ya sure you wanna be here?"

Sitting in the waiting room, Darragh looked at the handful of heavily pregnant women around them. He shifted slightly in the chair, feeling out of place in the sea of estrogen. The question was asking about more than just his comfort. All eyes had landed on them the moment they walked into the clinic. Catherine tried to ignore the hushed gossip, as she knew they were talking about her and Darragh showing up together.

"They're talkin' about us, ya know that right?" she asked.

Darragh rested his elbows on his knees, tapping his fingers on his mouth. Of course, he knew they were talking about them. The side glances made him feel as though he were an animal in a zoo. Not for a second did he regret his decision to come along with her because he couldn't imagine how she'd do, sitting there alone. Kicking his legs straight out and crossing them at the ankle, Darragh leaned back in the chair.

He lowered his voice so only Catherine could here him. "They're just tryin' ta figure out what you're doin' with a rare lowlife from Donegal. Even you were skittish of me when Liam brought me over."

"Honestly, that was because I couldn't understand ya. I wasn't sure if it was English ya were speakin', so I just smiled and nodded for the first two days."

Darragh didn't take offense to that. It had taken several months of living in Belfast for his thick Donegal brogue to dilute.

"What are ya thinkin' about?" he asked, noticing her expression of distress.

"Nothin' appropriate."

With the images from the other morning still running through Catherine's head, the only thing she had her mind on was taking him for a ride. Built like a heavyweight, Catherine knew he could annihilate her in bed. And the thought of that excited her to the core.

Leaning in, Darragh brought his lips to her ear. "As soon as we're done here, I'm takin' you back to mine where I'm gonna strip ya down and French kiss that sweet cunt of yours. If you're good, I'll let ya come."

Catherine's breath hitched and she was left struggling to formulate a basic thought. Sure, she had been spoken to like that before, but hearing it come from Darragh burned her cheeks.

Inside the cramped room, Catherine hopped up on the padded bed. With Darragh seated in the plastic chair directly across from her, she could sense the tension radiating off of him. He was going above and beyond what she could ever want from him, but she had to admit his presence did bring her comfort. If Jimmy were there, all he'd do is stress her out.

A technician took more blood from Catherine. She didn't have an issue with needles—as was evident by her tattoos—but it was the whole idea of watching her blood spurting into the plastic tube that made her squeamish. Keeping her eyes on Darragh the entire time, he eased her anxiety by making silly gestures behind the technician's back.

Once that was done, it was explained to Catherine in full detail what was to come next. Just as she had pulled up her shirt and unbuttoned her jeans to expose her belly, the doctor came in.

"I'm glad to see you've brought the boyfriend," Doctor Gallagher smiled, squirting cold jelly onto Catherine's stomach.

Catherine let out a bit of an awkward laugh, and Darragh stayed silent. During the short walk to the antenatal clinic at the Royal, they completely avoided the conversation on how people would think he was the father.

As the doctor brought the ultrasonic wand down on her belly, Catherine wasn't paying attention to the screen, she was focused on Darragh. He moved the chair beside Catherine, his eyes never once leaving the screen. Sliding her hand into his, she locked their fingers.

"Right there." She snapped her head, following Doctor Gallagher's finger to a jellybean sized spec. "There's the wee one."

Catherine burst out into both tears and laughter as she covered her mouth with her hand. "That's my baby?"

"That's your baby," the doctor confirmed, matching Catherine's enthusiasm.

Darragh's breath seized. Watching that little speck on the screen made him realize for the first time how much he wanted one of his own. For a man who lived life as fast-and-loose as he did, he never thought children were a good idea. As an IRA man, he knew the chances of leaving a wife abandoned or widowed were high, and he couldn't bring himself to put a woman he loved in that position. But, as he saw the excitement wash over Catherine, he could feel it too.

"About how far along am I?"

"I would say, eight weeks." Grabbing her pocket calendar, she gave Catherine an estimated due date.

As the doctor was finishing up and telling Catherine when she should schedule the next appointment, Darragh held the sonogram that had been handed to him. There was only thought in his head—no way could Jimmy ever know he's the father.