Making his way through the front door, Jimmy stopped mid-stride when he looked over to find Fiona and Kerrianne on the couch. They were in their pajamas, curled up in plush blankets with a bowl of buttery popcorn between them.

A movie played on the television, their laughter coming to an abrupt end when they realized he'd be home for the night.

For a moment, Fiona and Jimmy held each other's gaze. Neither of them could stand to be the same room together, leaving Jimmy to wonder if he should walk right out the door to find another place to stay for the night. Before he could take a step back, he reminded himself this was his house. He paid the mortgage, paid the utilities, and his hard-earned money put food on the table.

If anyone were going to leave, it was going to be her.

Closing and locking the door, Jimmy went straight upstairs to their bedroom. The first thing he did was take off his suit jacket and shuck his shoes. As he tugged his shirt from the waistband of his trousers, he trekked across the hall to the bathroom to start the shower. At this point in the day, he couldn't care less about wrinkles in the Italian wool trousers so he stripped in the middle of the bathroom before stepping under the cascade.

Resting his forearms against the wall, Jimmy closed his eyes. The hot water did what it could to wash away the stress knotting the tight muscles in his back and shoulders. He relaxed his jaw which had been clenched since Eddie told him of the disastrous deal with SAMCRO, but it was something far different that had him wound up tighter than a snare drum.

No matter how hard Jimmy tried to shake it from his mind, he couldn't stop thinking about her. Once again Catherine figured out a way to burrow beneath his skin. When he saw her earlier in the day it looked as though her hair hadn't been washed in days, she was bloated from all the medications she'd been pumped full of, and her skin had broken out like that of a teenager.

And yet, she was as beautiful as ever.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, Jimmy imagined every one of her naked taut curves. He swore he could feel the softness of her skin on his fingertips. Remembering just how she bit her lip right before an orgasm drained the blood from his head to below his waist.

He missed her more than he ever thought he would. But then again, his yarning to press her head into the mattress as he plowed her from behind was more than likely a direct result of the fact he hadn't felt the warmth of a pussy in almost three months.

He didn't count the blow job he got a few weeks ago, seeing as to how he desperately wanted to forget it even happened. Not because it was unsatisfying - it was definitely in the top ten blow jobs he's ever had. He wanted to forget it because apparently, he had a specific taste when it came to woman, and as he came he accidentally called the redhead with an ample ass and heavy tits 'Catherine.'

In this undesirable dry spell, he couldn't bring himself to jerk off. Mainly because every time he got his hand wrapped around his cock, she was the first image to pop into his head. She was the last woman he wanted to cum to.

But having her in his arms for the first time in God knows how long, Jimmy realized there was no way he would ever be able to completely erase her from his life. It wasn't because she was the mother to his only child, rather because she was the most amazing woman to ever be in his life. She was cold and deceitful towards him for good reason. He fucked up what could have been a loving, stable relationship thanks to his insecurities. The moment things started getting comfortable, it was like an alarm went off in his head screaming at him to abort the mission.

To men like Dessie, commitment came easy when they had a good woman by their side. Jimmy envied that. It didn't matter how well any of his previous girlfriends treated him, he always found reasons to treat them subhuman. They could never do anything right; there was always something to yell at them for. He nitpicked Catherine just the same, but for some reason, she still stuck around.

Wishing she was there sharing the small space of the shower with him, Jimmy gave in to his carnal desire. Reaching for the bottle of conditioner Fiona kept on the high ledge of the glass door he squeezed a fair amount into his palm and curled his fingers around his stiffened cock. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, remembering how heavenly it felt to be buried inside Catherine.


Catherine sat on the edge of the bed, feeling helpless. She looked down to see the top of Dessie's head as he knelt to the floor to tie the checkered laces of her battered Chuck Taylors. There weren't enough words in the English, Irish, and Russian languages she could use to express to him how grateful she was for everything he's done while she was cooped up in Daisy Hill. He balanced work, the boys, and visiting her, doing it all with a smile even though she knew how stressed he was. Catherine was anxious to get back home so she could properly take care of her family.

Though, it still felt bitter for her to be going home today. Danny wasn't swaddled in her arms, bundled up to make the journey back to Crossmaglen with them. Leaving the hospital with empty arms and an empty belly was soul-crushing and defeating. The worst part of it all came when she and Dessie had to break the news to Eamonn and Sean their baby brother would be left behind for a little longer.

"Ya ready to ditch this place?" he asked while getting back up.

She groaned, "Yes! You have no idea how much I'm lookin' forward to sleepin' in my bed tonight. And I'm lookin' forward to bein' an absolute lazy shite with ya for the next two days."

Slinging the strap of her duffel bag over his shoulder, Dessie agreed with her on both counts. He too wouldn't wait to curl up with her in their bed and then spend the weekend doing nothing. Still in a fair amount of pain from surgery, Catherine wanted to partake in as little physical activity as possible. She wished they could start their weekend a day early, but Dessie couldn't afford to take off the entire day. After he dropped her off at home, she was looking forward to spending a few carefree hours with Eamonn and Sean before Patrick picked them up for a promised camping trip.

"Believe me, I'm lookin' forward to that, too," Dessie said, holding out his hand for Catherine to take so he could help her up. "Now let's get ya home, my love."


By the time Dessie walked through the door of the house he and Catherine were slowly turning into a home, it was late evening. He was drained from work on top of running through his list of meetings.

Before leaving to pick up Catherine from the hospital, Connor dropped by the house. Over tea and cigarettes, they negotiated the final plans for a punishment beating on a local lad who was accused of stealing a car.

During his lunch break, he met with Kieran for a pie at the Cross Square Hotel in Crossmaglen. They discussed the latest intel the security unit had collected on Rory since he up and left Northern Ireland after Dessie was arrested on information that could have only come from the former True army intelligence officer. They had a hunch Rory hadn't completely jumped off the isle just yet. Turned out his wife was more loyal to the cause and every time she received a call or a cheque in the mail from him, she turned every clue to his location over to ONH.

On his way home, Dessie joined Aidan and Jack for a pint. They spent most of the time talking about the newly acquired players by the Rangers. As he downed the last mouthfuls of his beer, he casually mentioned - using a series of coded words - that he wanted them to lead the team on collecting the shipment of guns and cigarettes coming in from Eastern Europe the following night.

In the foyer Dessie kicked off his boots, smiling like an idiot. He could hear Catherine from the kitchen as she sang along to 99 Luftballons inbroken German. Even if the moment was only fleeting, Dessie was thankful she seemed to be doing somewhat okay for now. He expected to find her sitting in the rocking chair in the half-finished nursery.

The night was still young.

Strolling into the kitchen, Dessie made as little noise as possible while he stood in the doorway. Seeing her dance around the kitchen as she made dinner almost seemed surreal. Ten days with her gone were pure hell. And not just because he balanced the weight of the world on his shoulders. Rather, for the first time in life, Dessie felt like half a person. Catherine being gone meant he was without his best friend, his partner in crime, the absolute love of his life.

Life could start to slowly get back to normal now, and he reminded himself in two short months their family would be complete once they brought Danny home.

"You're home!" Catherine squealed excitedly as she paused her iPod. Dropping the wooden spoon on the counter beside the stove, she practically skipped to Dessie and wrapped her arms around his neck.

It had been so long since they last had a proper hug, the feeling of being back in each other's arms was like none other. They appreciated the moment.

When they pulled apart, Dessie gathered her face in his hands and planted about half a dozen kisses on her cheeks, forehead, and lips.

"Did your da come by and get the boys?"

"Aye. They were so excited. I made him promise me there would be no teachin' 'em how to use pistols or rifles. Not yet anyway."

Dessie chuckled and asked her how much longer until the food was ready. She glanced over her shoulder eying the doughy soda bread farls she had frying on the stove.

"Like twenty minutes."

"Perfect," he said, closing his mouth over hers for another kiss. "I'm gonna jump in the shower."

"Please do," she giggled, "I love ya, but ya smell god-awful."

Catherine set her fork down and folded her hands, resting her chin on her knuckles. She looked at Dessie unsure if she could bring herself to ruin their first night together, but Jimmy stopping by the hospital was something she couldn't keep from him any longer.

"Jimmy came to see me."

Just hearing that name sent a chill of indignation down Dessie's spine. He dropped his fork and ran a hand through his hair trying to stay as calm as possible.

"When?"

"Three days ago."

"Three days ago? You hid it from me for three goddamn days?"

Catherine could feel her cheeks grow hot at having been confronted. This was the exact reaction she expected in general and the reason she waited to tell him. It only would have made things more tense and uncomfortable if she told him while still at Daisy Hill.

"I didn't say anything because he came to talk about business. I wanted to wait until we were in a place where we could freely talk about it."

"The fuck did he want? He didn't lay a finger on you, did he? I knew I should've told Mickey to stay with you."

"He was surprisingly calm the entire time," she said. "He…he wanted me to ask you for a meeting. Eddie fucked up in Northern Cali and told SAMCRO they could have the Russian surplus-"

Dessie jumped up, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer in the ring.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" he shouted. "He carves my face half to bloody hell and then expects me to give him access to my surplus? He's a fuckin' halfwit, so he is. I ain't doin' it, no fuckin' way."

Catherine stood and rested her hands on the table. "This has nothin' to do with Jimmy. We took SAMCRO's only source of rifles, which they use as income, too. We need to make this right, Dessie."

Dessie lit a cigarette, beyond irritated Catherine was even trying to push him in the direction of actually meeting with Jimmy.

"I don't give a shite about Jimmy, and I don't give a shite about the bloody Sons of Anarchy either. If they want AK's, they can get 'em elsewhere because we're not in the business of sellin' guns."

"Jimmy promised this wouldn't be anything permanent. He needs only a few months' supply from us to keep the lads in Cali happy until he can find a distributor. Please, please take the meeting. I'm askin' ya to, for Filip."

Dessie took a drag from the cigarette as he stared deep into Catherine's eyes. He could sense there was more to the story than she was alluding to and he couldn't figure what or why she was keeping something from him. This was the first time he saw her defend the True army's deal with SAMCRO as she always believed they could find someone else to pay higher prices for the stock.

He crushed the cigarette in the ashtray then folded his arms across his chest. "Why do you want me to meet with Jimmy?"

"I told you why."

"I'm not playin' your fuckin' game, Catherine. I've got enough on my fuckin' shoulders now that I have Danny to worry about because you couldn't even manage to take care of yourself for nine-goddamn-months. I don't have time to try and figure out why you're pushin' to get Jimmy and me in the same room when that man has done everything in his power to bring us down."

She thought they were over the blame game, agreeing this entire situation was no one's fault. That wasn't the case.

Realizing her initial plan to try to convince him by using Chibs as an excuse wasn't going to work, Catherine had no other choice but to tell him the real reason.

"If you just agree to meet with him, he said he'll let me go to Belfast whenever I want. No strings attached."

"He is such a tool," Dessie said, shaking his head. "Do you have any idea what kind of position this puts me in?"

"Aye, that's why I didn't bring it up! I don't want you to feel like you have to."

"No, I do have to. Because unlike him, I don't see you like a fuckin' pawn in the bullshit mind games he gets off on playing. Even though your life is here with me now, your home is still Belfast and it would make me the biggest arse in the world if my actions kept you from being able to go there again." Grabbing his pack of smokes off the counter, Dessie stuffed them into his back pocket. He crossed the kitchen where he grabbed his keys and wallet off the top of the fridge. "Let him know to pick the day and I'll arrange for a safe house outside Norn Iron."

It took Catherine a second for it to register that Dessie was walking towards the front door. She dashed after him, tears bubbling in her eyes as she watched him slip on his boots.

"Where you goin?"

"Forkhill for a couple of days," he apathetically mumbled. Bending down, he tied the laces.

"A couple of days? Why? This is my first night back, Dessie; I don't wanna be here alone."

"Because I need space to think, okay?" he snapped.

"What's there to think about?"

Catherine's voice was shaky and thick with panic, which Dessie somehow seemed to miss.

"For starters, how I'm gonna deal with this mess with Jimmy, and then I'm gonna see my son."

Before she had a chance to get another word in or stop him from leaving, Dessie was out the door. He slammed it shut behind him, causing the picture frames nailed to the wall to shake.

Drained of all emotion, she didn't have it in her to run out after him and convince him not to go. Maybe time apart wasn't such a bad idea. Or at least that's what she tried to convince herself.


Jimmy came home after a long day to find Catherine sitting cross-legged on his couch. She was dressed in joggers, a zipped up sweatshirt twice her size with the hood pulled over her head. He caught her with her hand digging inside a box of Coco Pops as she watched trashy late-night television.

For a brief moment, it felt like 1996. A couple of times when Catherine was a teenager, Jimmy busted her playing hooky because she snuck into his house under the impression he and Fiona would be away until at least four o'clock.

Never once did he tell Patrick about her self-appointed days off. Once or twice he wrote her excuse notes.

For reasons he couldn't necessarily explain, Jimmy always appreciated the fact he was Catherine's safety zone; the one she turned to when she needed an escape from real life. At sixteen she looked to avoid the pressures of academia, the neverending headaches which came along with the bullshit of being a teenage girl. Now thirty with three children, a husband, and the responsibilities of maintaining the cash flow of a designated terror organization, it wasn't so hard for Jimmy to believe even now she still needed to play hooky once in a blue moon.

And maybe he did, too.

Closing the front door behind him, Jimmy said nothing as he crossed the length of the family room. Catherine swallowed her mouthful of chewed cereal, no longer paying attention to the television. Rather, she focused on the slight scuff sound Jimmy's Oxfords made along the hardwood floor. She was thoroughly convinced he had every intention of rag-dolling her - slapping her around a few times. After all, she did technically break in and it was safe to say their relationship still hadn't returned to the pre-Glasgow smile days.

Nevertheless, Catherine hung on to a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, her latest hospital stay was the turning point to better times.

Halfway between the door and the couch, Jimmy shed his Hugo Boss suit jacket not caring the wool garment - which set him back six-hundred pounds - landed in a ball when he tossed it onto a chair. Catherine almost jumped up to save the jacket from a wrinkled fate knowing just how particular he was about keeping his German and Italian made suits in pristine condition. It was Jimmy's blasé attitude keeping her unmoved.

He plopped down on the couch beside her. Catherine didn't question it for a second when he draped an arm along her shoulders. Instinctively, she rested her head against him, feeling surprisingly more relaxed now than she had in the hours by herself.

Jimmy snatched the box of Coco Pops from between her legs and put it the middle of them before diving in for a handful of the overly sweetened breakfast treat. Between Catherine's head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, the mind-numbing nonsense of the reality show, and overall peaceful ambiance amongst the two, he decided there would be no more business for the night. Doing nothing but melting his brain and rotting his insides with junk food with the one woman he truly loved more than life was all he wanted.

"Where the boys?" he asked, funneling cereal into his mouth.

"With my Da and brother. They took 'em campin' for the weekend."

Jimmy didn't want to know the answer to his next question, yet for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"And that husband of yours? Find it hard to believe he's lettin' you wander about Belfast all by your-wee-self."

She rolled her eyes; thankfully he didn't see. She debated whether or not to tell him the truth or feed him some bullshit excuse about how he was in the Republic for the weekend doing business. But what was the point? If she started lying about the riffs in her marriage now, that would only give Jimmy ammunition later to say 'I told you so,' if it fell apart.

"Forkhill," she said with embarrassment. "We're takin' a couple'a days apart."

Jimmy couldn't help his mocking laughter, which almost brought Catherine to tears.

"Trouble in paradise already? Its been what? A month since yous got married?"

"It's not trouble." Catherine hated the fact she now had to defend her marriage to Jimmy, of all people. "We just had a baby ten weeks early and he's not happy about you comin' to me to ask for a meetin' because he feels like it's putting him in an awkward position. Just a lot of stress is all."

Hearing Danny's early birth was causing tension in her and Dessie's relationship surprisingly hit Jimmy harder than he expected. The arrival of a child was supposed to a joyous time. Instead, overwhelming pain and uncertainty were swelling in their home, and he couldn't even begin to imagine how it was tearing Catherine apart.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Catherine cut him off, "Don't be sorry for anything that goes on in my life. I don't need your pity. And by the way, Dessie agreed to meet with you; I wanted to tell you in person. He told me to tell you to pick a date, and he'll pick the location. Somewhere neutral, outside of True army and ONH territory."

Jimmy cleared his throat, setting the box of Coco Pops on the coffee table before jumping to his feet. He strolled in the direction of the stairs.

"Come with me," he instructed. "And bring the cereal with ya."

With the box tucked under her arm, Catherine stood in the doorway of the bedroom Jimmy shared with Fiona. Of course, the bed was made, with the pillows perfectly fluffed, absolutely zero clutter, and not a single trace of dust to be found.

She nervously rolled her bottom lip between her teeth trying to figure out why in the hell he summoned her upstairs, to his bedroom, nonetheless. He was rummaging through the drawers of his dresser.

"You can come in," Jimmy said over his shoulder. He casually tossed his thumb in the direction of the bed. "Sit."

Reluctantly, Catherine scuffled into the room. She set the box of cereal on Fiona's nightstand and sat on the bed, tucking one ankle under her knee. Her stomach twisted with so many unresolved emotions. The last time she had been in Jimmy's bedroom was when she was pregnant with Eamonn and they fought so badly it resulted in them not speaking for years.

The time before that she was nineteen; Fiona had taken Kerrianne to Paris for a holiday. It was the only time she and Jimmy ever had sex on that bed. Catherine wondered if Fiona knew.

When Jimmy found what he was looking for, he rolled up the sleeves of his blue-gray shirt to his elbows.

"No more talk of business or Dessie, or Fiona, or even Eamonn. For the rest of the night we're gonna relax like old times, and then tomorrow we can go back to hating each other."

Catherine smiled and chuckled. "What are you hidin' behind your back, O'Phelan?"

The corner of Jimmy's mouth curled into a mischievous grin. Onto the bed, he threw down a small Zip-Lock bag. Catherine picked it up. Her jaw nearly fell to the ground when she realized what Jimmy had been hiding in his underwear drawer.

"And where did you get these?" she asked, holding up the bag with two joints inside.

After grabbing a lighter, Jimmy laid down on the bed sideways. At first, he ignored her question just taking the bag from her hands and fishing out a joint. He tucked it into the corner of his mouth.

"O'Keefe found a bunch on a lad after they shot him. He gave 'em to me and I may have kept 'em for myself."

The stark difference between Dessie and Jimmy had never been so obvious for Catherine. Despite Dessie's hypocritical, dangerous habit of mixing half a handful of narcotic painkillers with copious glasses of whiskey, he made it clear under his command the sale and procurement of dime bags of any kind in counties Armagh, Tyrone, Derry, and the southern portion of Down, wouldn't be tolerated by Oglaigh na hEireann.

Belfast under Jimmy's iron fist was a little more liberal. He often turned a blind eye to those seeking an herbal form of stress relief, though he had zero tolerance for anything else.

He lit the joint, and then took a long drag. He held the smoke deep in his lungs for several seconds and exhaled. Not once did he cough. It was the first time in thirty years she saw him smoke anything other than a Marlboro and Catherine struggled to accept the sight before her.

Considering how high-strung he was, she wanted to tell him he wasn't smoking enough.

Jimmy held the joint out to her. Her gaze ping-ponged between him and the joint clasped between his fingers. A part of her wondered if this was meant to be a peace offering as he knew exactly how staunchly anti-drug Dessie and Patrick were. All Jimmy would have to do was tell Dessie she took a single hit and she'd be scrubbing rusty bullets in no time. She guessed it was mutually assured destruction to prevent her from opening her mouth about having been sixteen when their sexual relationship ignited.

"C'mon," he urged. "I know you've done it at least once in your life and I promise I won't say anything."

Licking her dry lips, Catherine pushed the hood off. She knew for a fact Dessie planned to spend his weekend alone at the bottom of a bottle of Powers, so she shook off the feeling that she was doing something wrong. If that's how he wanted to unwind, then this is how she was going to.

Taking the joint from Jimmy, she took a drag. It had been nearly a year since she last smoked with Chibs in Oakland and as expected she made herself look like a rookie. Smoke poured from her mouth as she broke out into a coughing fit.

Determined to not let the joint beat her, Catherine inhaled again. This time she didn't cough.

It was just like riding a bike.