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Author's Note: Listen closely to the part in the movie where the boys are talking about rope to see where Connor's nickname came from.(I'm proud of that one)
Nifty fact for the day: Cnawvshawling means complaining. It's a great word.
Special Thanks: to MKOLO for all your help, my brain would have exploded without it. (be sure to check out her fic Redemption!)
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Danae swiped her badge, nodding to the morning nurse as she left the building. It had been one of those nights and she was glad that it was finally over. She was looking forward to seeing Murphy and Connor, then going home to a hot bath and bed. No better way to end the day.
Stepping outside a flutter of uneasiness went through her. The sun had yet to rise and the street lamps cast unwelcoming shadows across the employee parking lot. Adjusting the strap of the gym bag she was carrying more firmly on her shoulder, she shook her head, trying to dispel the nervous butterflies forming in her stomach.
Calm down, she chided herself, There's nothing to be afraid of.
But that was a lie, something very real and very frightening had happened to her yesterday. There was plenty to be afraid of, and she had the bruises and the lingering headache to prove it.
Behind her, the growingly familiar sound of a lighter made Danae start. Uttering an undignified 'Eeep!', she whirled around, her heart in her throat, and came face to face with Murphy.
She shouldn't have been surprised to see him. In the back of her mind, she'd known that he'd show up to make sure she was safe. Protector of the innocent, she thought dryly, and then smiled faintly as she realized how true the statement really was.
"Jumpy, aren't ye?" he asked, smirking around his cigarette.
"Yes . . . No! . . . What are you doing here?"
Murphy shrugged, taking a drag off of his cigarette, and exhaling. Watching him, she noticed that he was making an effort to blow the smoke away from where she stood and the thoughtfulness of the gesture made her smile.
"I thought I'd walk ye home." He said at last.
"That'd be great, Thanks. We have to stop by the motel on the way though." Danae couldn't stop a chuckle from slipping out; she was quite pleased with herself.
He looked at her, raising a questioning eyebrow
"I grabbed Connor's painkillers on my break." She said, indicating the gym bag she was toting. "I took the rest of your guys' things from the hospital room too."
Murphy grinned, "Nicely done. Ye didn't have any trouble getting inta the room?"
Shaking her head and hurrying to match his long-legged stride, Danae said, "Things were still so crazy from yesterday; housekeeping hadn't even cleaned it. I just walked in and took what I thought you both would want."
"So ye're a regular cat-burglar now?"
"No question about it, now all I have to do is get one of those masks and some rope." She said making Murphy choke on a laugh.
"What's so funny?"
"It's a long story, luv." He said, still laughing as he flicked away the last of his cigarette. "Remind me and I'll tell ye sometime."
Reaching the motel, Murphy swiped his card through the lock, and pushed the door open, nodding for her to enter.
"How're ye feelin'?" he called out to his brother.
"Like hell." Connor was hunched over the rickety table, facing away from them. At the sound of his brother's voice, he sat up, turning to look at them, and Danae saw the gun in his hands.
Her first instinct was to recoil. She took a stumbling step backward, colliding with Murphy as she did.
"Whoa!" he said, planting his hands on her shoulders. "Are ye all right?"
Connor shoved the weapon into a black duffel bag and splayed his empty hands. "It was just a gun, Danae."
"I know, I know, it just surprised me, that's all." She said, taking in a deep breath, blood rushing to her cheeks. Coward, she thought to herself derisively. "Don't the motel managers frown on early morning target practice?"
"I was cleanin' it, smartass." Connor chuckled through a wince, rising from the chair. "Ow, fuck."
Murphy made no move to help his brother, but Danae could feel him watching, ready to lend a hand. Slowly, using the table for support, Connor straightened, his face strained.
"Look Ma," he said smiling painfully, "No crutches."
She barely had time to smile back before Connor's knees buckled, setting him down hard in the chair. Behind her, Murphy tensed, sucking in a quiet breath, but he still did not move. Danae got the feeling that when and when not to help his twin was something that Murphy knew very well.
Slipping the gym bag off of her shoulder, she offered it to the lighter-haired man. "Here, I think you might want this."
"What is it?" Connor asked, opening the bag and looking inside. "Very nice, thank ye, Danae." He said relief evident in his voice as he pulled out an orange prescription bottle full of painkillers.
"Aye, thanks Danae," Murphy grinned, "Now I don't have ta listen ta his Cnawvshawlin' all night long."
She smiled as Connor batted at his twin. "Shut it. If I remember right, ye were no angel after ye were shot either."
"Ye're mighty fuckin' narky this mornin', Mitu." Murphy said.
"I'm not fuckin' narky!" Connor protested, "And for Christ's sake don't fuckin' call me that."
"Mitu?" Danae asked, fighting a smile. "What does that mean?"
"It's what Ma used ta call Connor when he was little." Murphy grinned, his eyes sparkling and mischievous.
"Murph," Connor began, warningly.
"Ye see, when he was a lad he didn't like to be alone. Neither of us did, really, but Conn was the worst about it by far."
"You shut your gob, Murphy, or I swear ta fuckin' Christ . . ." Connor's threat was accompanied by a swinging fist.
Murphy evaded the blow easily, completely ignoring his twin. "No matter what Ma or I were doin' he'd always be right there with us yellin' 'Me Too! Me Too!' at the top o' his lungs."
"Ye fuck!" A blush had started to rise out of Connor's shirt collar, inching up his neck.
"The name kinda stuck after that," said Murphy, laughing at his brother's discomfiture.
"Don't listen to him, Danae." Connor said, struggling to remain stern, "its all fuckin' lies."
"He's just sayin' that 'cause he's narky."
"For the last time, I'm not fuckin' narky! I'm fuckin' exhausted is what I am."
Murphy gave his brother a brief, scrutinizing, glance, sobering. "Ye should pop a couple o' those pills now and have a kip."
"Perhaps I'll do just that." Connor said smiling tiredly, and Danae noticed just how worn out both brothers looked.
"I should get going." She said quietly, "I'll stop by tomorrow, okay?"
"Tonight," They said in unison and she stifled a laugh with her hand.
"Tonight it is."
Murphy exchanged a swift look with his twin, and Connor nodded. "C'mon, luv," Murphy said, "I'll finish walkin' with ye."
Danae nodded her goodbye to Connor and allowed Murphy to press a hand to the small of her back as they stepped out of the motel room and into the dawning day.
The sun was starting to rise, staining the autumn clouds with blazing pinks and golds. In the hush of the morning, the city seemed tranquil and clean. Danae closed her eyes for moment, inhaling the scent of fallen leaves and damp pavement as they walked.
Today was going to be a good day; she could feel it.
"Are ye okay?" Murphy frowned at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just enjoying the morning. Sunrise is my favorite part of the day."
"Why?"
The breeze picked up, and Danae smiled into it as it ruffled her hair, feeling better than she had in quite a few days.
"It's like no matter what happens during the night, when the sun comes up it's a new beginning. Watching the sunrise is kind of like watching the slate being wiped clean. A fresh start every day."
Realizing that he was staring at her, she looked down, suddenly sheepish, "It sounds kind of stupid out loud, doesn't it?"
"No," Murphy's voice was soft, "It doesn't sound stupid at all."
"So tell me something about yourself." She said self consciously, changing the subject as quickly as possible.
"Ye already know all ye need ta about the Saints."
Danae couldn't quite place the tone in Murphy's voice; it was a little wistful and a little exasperated all at once.
"I don't want to know about the Saints." She said, threading her arm through his, and giving him a wry smile, "I want to know about Murphy."
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". . . and so then she turns right around and gives Connor a shot ta the nuts, just like that."
"You're joking!" Danae grinned, eyes wide as she listened to Murphy's story. "What did he do?"
"He fuckin' fell over, is what he did; that shit hurts."
"Especially coming from a big, fat, angry lesbian?"
"Aye, but I made sure she got hers in the end." He said raising his eyebrows, mirth barely contained.
"Please tell me you didn't hit her."
Murphy beamed proudly, "Of course I did, I fuckin' knocked her out besides."
"She was a girl, Murph!"
He snorted, "Just barely, Connor swears that she was pre-op and I'm inclined to agree. Besides, yer missin' the point here, the point is that she kicked me brother in the balls."
"I think the point is that you shouldn't mess with big, fat, angry, lesbians."
Murphy chuckled, shaking his head as they rounded the corner leading toward her apartment complex. It was a looming orange monstrosity with delusions of innovation. A single stunted tree sprouted from the cracked pavement bordering her patio, surrounded by several potted plants.
Pulling a set of housekeys out of her pocket, Danae stepped up to her front door, unlocking it and giving it a small push. "Well, this is my stop." She said softly, "Thanks for the company."
Murphy nodded, his gaze never leaving her face, and she found herself staring back into the guileless blue of his eyes. Someone could get lost in eyes like that. She thought, fascinated.
Reaching out, he took a strand of hair that had fallen from her haphazard bun, rubbing it between his fingers before tucking it back behind her ear. Smiling, he brushed a hand across her cheek, running his thumb slowly over her bottom lip.
Danae couldn't catch her breath, couldn't think, as the sensation of fingers on skin swallowed her whole. Murphy's hands were rough, calloused by years of hard work, but his touch was gentle, fingertips whispering over her face as he traced her features.
Bringing her hand to his, she felt a tiny shiver run through him as she explored the peaks and valleys of his knuckles. She liked his hands, they were deft and graceful, covered with scars leftover from an uncountable number of fights and instances where he'd lost his temper, unleashing his wrath on some unsuspecting wall.
They were hands of someone who worked hard for a living, someone who would look you in the eyes when he shook your hand, someone who could find all the right places to touch to make your knees turn to jelly and your head fall back . . .
It was only when she began to feel a little dizzy that Danae became aware that she was holding her breath. She exhaled with a nervous laugh and Murphy shot her an amused half smile, raising his eyebrows.
"What?"
"I guess you just take my breath away." She whispered, smiling up at him.
Chuckling, he slid his hand up to cup the back of her neck, sending sparks throughout her body as he caressed the sensitive skin along her throat and behind her ear.
She moved nearer to him, intertwining their fingers, and Murphy bent down, brushing his lips across hers. It was the barest of touches, warm and soft, and it made Danae's heart start pounding in earnest. Pulling away, she felt the beginnings of a huge mawkish smile tugging at her lips; she fought it for a moment, and then gave, rising up on her toes for another kiss.
This time, kiss was a little harder, less sweet and more wanton. She pressed her hand against Murphy's cheek, feeling the stubble along his jaw prickle under her fingers.
Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled their bodies together and she could smell smoke and wool and the subtle spice of his cologne. The scent was cool, heady and distinctly Murphy.
He surrounded her, making her safe in the circle of his arms while his mouth made safety the very last thing on her mind.
Breaking the kiss, she moved back, trying to reign in her freewheeling emotions. Part of her wanted to invite him inside and continue what they had started. The idea sent a bolt of sensation to her core, making her blink at the intensity of it. She was aware of Murphy watching her closely, and blood rushed to her cheeks as she saw the heat in his eyes.
Oh God, she was in way over her head with this. Common sense won out over her desire and she smoothed her hair, taking another step away from him.
"Good night, Murphy." The words trembled slightly, but she managed to get them out.
He gave a short chuckle, looking down at his shoes. "Sweet dreams, luv, make sure ye stop by tonight."
"I will." Slipping inside, she shut the door and rested her forehead against the painted wood, sighing, her thoughts tumbling over themselves. Two in particular warred to be heard.
Way, way over her head, and
A very good day, indeed.
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