My apartment was no where close to, oh, what's the word? Large, yeah, that's it. In fact, sometimes it seemed too cramped for me by myself, so with the boys and Rocco all staying there it was a little close. Close enough that if Rocco hadn't already known that I was sleeping with them both, being no idiot himself, he would have figured it out within the first couple of hours.

So he didn't take it personally when we all went to bed in my room and he was left alone in my living room on my less than comfy couch with a couple of blankets and a pillow. Knowing that there was only one bathroom and that it was two feet from my bed, he also stopped all liquid intake at about two in the afternoon. I felt bad, but the boys seemed to think it was funny. I rolled my eyes thinking about it as I spat toothpaste into my bathroom sink. Slurping water out of my hands I rinsed my mouth as I rinsed my toothbrush, put it away and spat again.

Taking my hair down from the ponytail, I turned off the light and padded into my bedroom.

Murphy was already laying, with his back to the wall, smoking and talking to Connor who sat beside the bed, an ashtray between them. The conversation, in Gaelic, I think, paused as I walked into the room, and they turned to look at me. I wiped self-consciously at my mouth, worried I still looked like a rabid dog from the toothpaste as they resumed their discussion.

I took a step towards the bed as Murphy lifted the ashtray, flipped down the bedspread and started smoothing the sheets, absentmindedly, still staring intently at Connor as he spoke in what I think had become Italian after the pause.

I stopped short of standing between them and slid my sleeping pants off of my hips, before dropping into the space Murphy had prepared so I could peel off my socks. I got the first one off, before Connor grabbed my other foot and peeled the other off, rubbing the ball of my feet with his thumbs. I inhaled deeply, curling my toes. A soft, vaguely smutty sound rolled out of my throat, as I slid my foot out of his fingers and laid out on my back beside Murphy, tucking my feet under the covers. Murphy flipped the covers over me, covering me to the waist, then laid the ashtray on my stomach. I should have been offended being used as the equivalent of a park bench, but I wasn't. The boys were still immersed in a conversation in French and both of them leaning over me to flick ashes almost made me feel part of it.

Blanketed by their voices I must have nodded off for a few minutes, because the next thing I knew, Murphy's hand was resting lightly on my hip, shaking me slightly, breathing in my ear, "Come on, girl."

"Hm?" I said, blinking, heavily.

"Move over, lass," Connor said from the floor as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled rolling closer to Murphy as Connor climbed in beside me and I curled instinctively around him, my leg over his, my head on his shoulder, my hand in his on his chest. A brief moment of panic at how well this fit was quickly snuffed out as Murphy's chest fitted to my back, his hand over my hip and the other arm under my neck searching for my fingers with his own. My spare hand fitted into his and squeezed and he squeezed back. A small contented sigh escaped my lips and I melted into them both, as my eyes fluttered shut.

"Have ye figured it out, yet, lass?" Connor asked, suddenly.

My eyes shot open and I stared at the tattoo on his neck, "What exactly?" I asked, stupidly. I had an idea of what he was asking but I wasn't gonna jump in.

"About what we've been doin', girl?" Murphy chimed in from behind me.

I swallowed and I felt my body tense up between them and they pressed closer to me, their heat willing me to relax. "You two take off that first night and the next morning there's nine dead mobsters. Three dead at the Lakeview the next morning after you stayed the night at Roc's. Then three more at that peep show palace the next night. I haven't watched the news tonight but you three come back today full of holes and missing appendages, smelling like blood and gunpowder, I'm sure I'll see a big body count in the morning." I shifted my head up and met his eyes looking down at me. "I'm not an idiot, Connor."

"I know that, lass," he said, using his index finger of our shared hand to brush a lock of my hair out of my face.

"We know that," Murphy added and I arched my hips against his groin.

"The thing is," Connor began.

"That fed that cleared us of that thing with the Russians?" Murphy's breath whispered against my skin.

"He's working this new thing, too," Connor added.

"And he'll figure it out soon," I said. "That was the whole thing with Roc earlier."

"Aye," Connor agreed, turning his head to the ceiling.

I paused, pressing my lips together. I had to know. "So what were you gonna talk about later?" I asked half turning my head to meet Murph's eyes. "What is it time for?"

I felt Connor shift beside me and I knew he was looking at Murphy. Murph's eyes shifted up to meet his, another wordless conversation, then returned his gaze to me, met my eyes and held them. "We had planned to head to New York if things got bad here."

My stomach dropped. I swallowed. "And things are bad."

"Not yet," Connor said.

"But," Murphy began.

"They will be," I said my eyes sliding from his as I turned my head and buried it in Connor's side. I wasn't gonna cry.

"Poppa Joe will be the last here," Connor began.

"And then," Murphy added.

"You'll go," I concluded.

"Aye," Connor agreed. There was a trace of emotion in his voice, but just a hint. He wasn't asking permission. He wasn't going to draw it out. This was how it was. Business.

And beneath the despair that I was feeling a tiny flicker of pride flared. I knew, deep down, I knew that they harbored the same kinds of feelings for me as I did for them. If they hadn't worried about how I was gonna take this decision they would have told me this afternoon, just hit me right between the eyes with it, to hell with how it would affect me. Or worse yet I could have just come home one day to find all their stuff gone, but they didn't.

If they could man up and keep this straight up business, then I could too. I cleared my throat and raised my eyes to Connor's. He was straight faced, every line and muscle in his body relaxed with an air of indifference, but I could see the conflict in his eyes and twisted bitch that I am, it made me feel better. I felt my lips curl up slightly in a trace of a smile and the conflict eased a bit. "When do you hit him?"

Murphy's hand slung over my hip loosened and Connor grinned, opening his mouth to speak.

Of course it was that precise moment when all hell broke loose in the other room.