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Author's Note: Thanks to MKOLO for letting me borrow her Karate Kid idea.
o(16)o
Connor leaned back into the couch, his leg propped up on a well-used coffee table, and took a gratifying swallow of Guinness.
Across the room, Murphy knelt in front of a bookcase, perusing Danae's selection of movies.
"How about 'Clear and Present Danger'?" he asked and Connor shook his head.
"Too long."
They had offered Danae first run at the shower, and she had taken it gratefully. Every once in a while he could catch bits and pieces of the melody she was humming and smiled at the variety of songs she knew. So far, she had gone through Moonlight Sonata, the Macarena, and Anesthesia Pulling Teeth. Right now, he was pretty sure that she was humming that Tubthumper song he liked.
"Suicide Kings?" Murphy inquired.
"Too many twists."
Connor's leg was throbbing, but the pain wasn't as bad as it normally was. The Aloe that Danae had smeared across his thigh, and the cold rag covering it, had taken a lot of the fire out of the wound. A couple more beers, enough time for the aspirin to kick in, and he would be feeling grand.
"She's got Karate Kid!" Murphy exclaimed happily holding up the case.
"Absolutely not."
"C'mon!" he protested, "I love this movie."
"I'm not listenin' ta your fuckin' 'Wax on, Wax off' shit for the next week. No."
His twin gave an offended snort and turned back to the movies, settling on the floor comfortably.
Letting his head fall back, Connor reflected on the day's events. Someone had found them; there was no doubt about that. And the bastards had found them with a vengeance.
He knew they should call Smecker, and he wanted to take up his guns, go out and deliver these fuckers, but right now, but what the three of them needed most was a chance to regroup and recuperate. It did no good to make plans when he could barely stand without the pain making his head swim.
"She's got Platoon," Murphy said in astonishment, "I can't fuckin' believe that she fuckin' owns Platoon. What kind of girl owns a movie like that?"
Connor shook his head, chuckling at his twin, "Maybe she fancies that fella who plays Sergeant Grodin."
"Not fuckin' likely." His brother muttered, and Connor took another drink of his beer.
Tomorrow they would make plans; he and Murphy would sit down and figure out just exactly what they were going to do, because running wasn't an option anymore. They would definitely call Smecker and find out what he knew, they would buy supplies, and then they would hunt the Street Priests down and reap motherfucking justice like the fuckers had never seen before.
"I've got it!" Said Murphy triumphantly, holding up another movie case.
"What now?"
" Indiana Jones."
"Very nice." Connor nodded his approval; you couldn't go wrong with someone that could handle a whip like he could. It was almost as handy as the rope Charlie Bronson used in his movies.
Danae came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her hair wet around her shoulders.
"Don't look!" She exclaimed, rushing through the living room and into the bedroom beyond. "Don't look! Don't Look!"
Connor chuckled at the way his twin's eyes widened as she hurried by. Murphy sat up a little straighter, his jaw dropping slightly.
"She said not ta look, ye dope. Ye might want ta put yer eyes back in your fuckin' head."
"Shut it," his brother said, flushing, "or I'm takin' yer fuckin' turn for the shower."
Laughing, Connor downed the last of his beer and struggled to his feet. "Not a chance."
"Clean towels are in the cabinet left of the sink!" Danae called from the bedroom, toweling the water from her hair, and wishing ardently that she'd invested in a bathrobe during her last shopping trip.
Nothing quite like traipsing around in a bath towel in front of your house-guests. She thought wryly, although the expression on Murphy's face had almost been worth it.
"If you both want to throw your clothes into the hall, I can run them through the wash"
"Just want to see us without our clothes on, don't ye?" Came Murphy's teasing voice from outside her door and Danae raised an eyebrow.
"Yes." She called back, "It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you're filthy and you stink, it's all about naked MacManus men."
"I figured as much." Murphy retorted and she just barely heard him add "Smartass," under his breath
Tugging on a comfortable pair of lounge pants and a shirt, she flopped across her bed, staring at the ceiling. The cuts on her arms hurt, and her entire world was in shambles, but for some bizarre reason, she was in a remarkably good mood.
Connor and Murphy's being there took away some of the loneliness her apartment too often seemed to be steeped in. Having them nearby made her place a little warmer and a little more welcoming.
The notion surprised her, she'd had no idea how much she missed interacting with other people since moving to the midnight shift. She wasn't much of an extrovert by nature, preferring a good book or movie to a night out on the town, but surely, she hadn't been that isolated these past few years.
Had she?
Sliding off the bed, Danae pushed open the door and almost tripped over Murphy as she stepped out of the bedroom. He was lying on the floor, hands behind his head, eyes closed, his face relaxed and peaceful.
Common sense told her not to get involved, that he was a killer and a criminal; it told her that getting mixed up with him would cause more trouble that he was worth.
She took a moment to really look at him. Even dirty and spattered with blood he was still attractive, not conventionally handsome, but intriguing in a way that was all his own. He was unique in every sense of the word, never ceasing to amaze her with some new facet of his character.
Staring down at him, Danae realized that her common sense was wrong. Everything that had happened so far, whatever came to pass; having Murphy MacManus in her life was worth every bit of it.
As if hearing her thoughts, he opened one eye and smirked at her. "See somethin' ye like, luv?"
Busted! Danae thought, unable to stop the heat that flooded her cheeks, or the embarrassed grin that split her face.
"I was wondering where you got your shirt."
He shook his head, smiling, "Smartass."
She nodded, trying to fight the sappy grin, and failing.
"C'mere I've somethin' I want to tell ye."
Danae leaned nearer to him, and his warm hands closed around her upper arms, carefully avoiding the cuts that marred her flesh.
Sweeping out a leg, he knocked her feet out from under her, twisting so she landed with a slight jolt, one knee on either side of his hips.
Chuckling at the shocked expression on her face, he released her arms, sliding his hands down to her waist, fingers caressing the bare skin under her shirt.
"I want ta tell ye that I love yer smile."
The line was corny, and coming from anyone else it would have warranted an eye-roll or caustic retort, but leaving Murphy's lips it took on a whole new implication.
He was so sincere, looking at her with that smile, the one that made her heart speed up, still lightly brushing his thumbs against the skin of her hips, and Danae realized that she was holding her breath again.
She wanted him to kiss her, to feel his hands whispering over her skin and to feel the heat of his skin under her own hands. She wanted him to make the horror of the day disappear, to wrap her in his arms and make her forget that he had come terrifyingly close to dying, make her forget how close she'd come to losing him. She wanted him to surround her, flooding her senses with smell and taste and touch.
She wanted him.
Murphy's smile faded away, his eyes darkening and he shifted slightly, his hips rubbing under her. Sliding both hands further under her shirt, he traced senseless designs across her back and ribs with his fingertips.
Danae bowed her head, letting the sensation swallow her, splaying a hand across his chest, she gently outlined the ridge of his collarbone as her other hand wandered behind her, tickling across Murphy's thighs.
He drew in a sharp breath at her touch and wrapped his arms around her, pulling their bodies together and capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.
Through the sensation of Danae's body pressed against him, her mouth exploring his, Murphy felt his twin's presence. Breaking the kiss he looked up, just in time to see Connor turn away, hobbling toward the kitchen. Danae followed his gaze and sat back, still straddling him, and smoothed her hair, the mood effectively broken.
Fuckin' Connor! He thought angrily, but his aggravation quickly turned to concern as he saw his twin's shadow pause, swaying slightly, and place a hand on the wall for support.
He made a move to slide out from under Danae, but she was already getting to her feet, moving towards where Connor was leaning, and he felt an odd pang of that she cared about his brother so much, some strange mix of jealousy and appreciation.
"Are you okay?" She asked reaching out to Connor and Murphy relaxed hearing his twin's low laugh.
"Aye, I just have ta go a little slower so I don't tear the burn." A pause, "I don't suppose ye have any more o' those aloe leaves, do ye?"
"I have a whole plant, outside. I'll go grab a few more for you." Danae said, and Murphy noticed that she didn't meet his brother's eyes, instead looking fixedly at the floor of the hallway.
Although the fact that Connor was wearing nothing but a towel probably had something to do with that.
Murphy couldn't resist giving her backside a swift smack as she brushed by, laughing at her surprised 'eeep!'.
She turned and shot him a narrow look, her cheeks reddening, making him laugh even harder.
"You'll get yours." She promised, and he sincerely hoped so.
Slipping back through the door, Danae offered a few more of the fat green leaves to Connor, still avoiding his eyes.
"I guess that means I'm next for the shower." Murphy said, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. "Ye'd better not have used all the fuckin' hot water, Connor." He said, stripping off his clothes and tossing them out into the hall.
His brother chuckled from the other side of the door, "Shut it, and have your shower."
Danae gathered both brothers' clothes into a bundle in her arms, "I'll get these washing." She said softly.
Connor reached out and touched her elbow gently. "It looks like things were gettin' a bit serious in there."
She looked away from him, a blush staining her cheeks once again.
"Ye don't have ta be embarrassed about it, Danae." He said. "I knew that ye two had feelin's for one another before ye did. I just want to make sure you understand what ye're getting inta here."
"Vigilantes, guns, and exploding buildings?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean my brother. Murphy doesn't fall for someone very often, but when he does, he falls hard. I don't want to see him, or you for that matter, gettin' hurt."
Danae looked at him, her eyes solemn and Connor was taken aback at how wan she appeared. "I would never hurt him." She said softly.
"I know ye wouldn't on purpose. Just remember that Murph loves like he does everything else, with his heart and soul on the line. Promise me that ye'll be careful, all right?"
Giving him one last keen look, her eyes searching his, Danae finally turned away, securing the pile of bloody clothing more firmly on her hip. "I will, thanks, Connor."
"Hey, wait!" He said, reaching out, and she paused. Connor fumbled through the bundle of clothing until he found a pair of jeans. Making sure they were his, he dipped into one of the pockets and pulled out a worn scrap of paper.
"Can't be losing this." He said, smiling.
"What is it?"
Connor smoothed the piece of paper out, revealing a hastily scribbled phone number, and grinned seeing that it was still legible.
"It's Remi's phone number."
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