A/N: Thanks again to goddesslaughs...the best beta a struggling writer could ask for!

Chapter Four

Murphy awoke, squinting against the sunlight that was coming through the bedroom window. He glanced over and saw Connor glaring up at the ceiling intently.

"That's the trouble with those things, you have to watch them every minute." Murphy said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Always a fuckin' comedian, ye are, even at eight in the fuckin' morning." Connor said without glancing over.

Murphy propped himself up on his elbow, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "Did ye sleep at all?"

"Not much. Been tryin' to figure out what we're gonna tell Luciana, when she gets around to asking questions. We're stuck between a fuckin' rock and a sinkin' ship, as Doc would say."

Recognizing his brother's half-hearted attempt at humor for what it was, Murphy smiled. "We'll just have to keep her distracted until Da calls. I wanna run all this by him before we tell her anything."

"Great, now you just whip us up a plan to do that, and we're home-free." Connor said wearily. "I'm gonna take a fucking shower."

"Maybe you shouldn't." Murphy said, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. "She'll probably head for the hills screaming like a fuckin' banshee if she sees how fucking scary you look this morning." He couldn't help but chuckle as Connor flipped him off on his way to the bathroom.

----

As it turned out, the brothers didn't needed a plan to distract Luciana after all. When Connor finally came down stairs, Luciana and Murphy had already worked it out. He was going to take Luciana to the cemetery to see Rocco's grave and Murphy was going to stay in and wait for Da's call.

At first, he had been pissed that he was appointed, by his brother no doubt, to be the one that had to sidestep her questions all day. He didn't want to lie to her, but he certainly couldn't put them all at risk by telling her the truth. He was about to suggest that Murphy go with her instead but when she looked up at him with those sorrowful dark eyes and he couldn't find the words.

They walked in silence toward the cemetery, each lost in their own thoughts. Two blocks away, Connor grabbed her hand and pulled her into a florist's shop that he had come to know well in the months following Rocco's death.

"Why don't ye pick something out for him?" he asked gently, steering her towards the case of arrangements.

"Thanks, I'd like that." She said. But as she looked at the prices of the different bouquets, her face fell.

Noticing her discomfiture, he grabbed the largest bouquet he saw and paid the bill.

"Thank you." She said, in a tremulous voice and Connor deliberately looked away so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks.

The rest of the walk passed quickly and before he knew it, they were standing in front of Rocco's grave. He picked up the dried flowers, leftover from his last visit and placed the new ones along the headstone.

Reaching over and squeezing her hand, he said, "I'll just give you some time alone with him." She nodded, never taking her eyes from the grave. He left her and made his way to the now familiar chapel on the cemetery grounds.

-----

He was kneeling in second row of the small church, praying, when he heard a slight rustling next to him. He looked over to see Luciana kneeling next to him, her long dark curls hiding her face. After a moment, he heard a small sob escape her and he reached over and pulled her up onto the pew. She leaned against him wept. It wasn't the hysterical crying that had gripped her at McGinty's, but tears of loss and grief that he hoped would ease her soul. He held her close, whispering soft words into her hair until her sobs tapered off and she was resting quietly against him.

After a moment, she raised her head, meeting his eyes. "Was it you?" She said in a small voice, barely above a whisper.

"Was what me?" he asked, puzzled.

"That beautiful headstone…the dried flowers…all of it."

"Murphy and I picked the headstone. And yes, I brought the flowers. I usually come out once a week, to talk to Roc and…" he trailed off, avoiding her gaze.

"And…" She prompted.

"And to pray." He finished quietly.

She leaned forward and kissing him lightly on the cheek. "I'm glad someone is watching over him. I can't tell you what it means to me that he hasn't been alone, or buried in some public cemetery surrounded by strangers.

It's beautiful here. Peaceful. It makes it so much easier for me knowing that David has a resting place where he isn't forgotten."

"Easier to what?"

"To move on. I can't stay here. As much as I'd like to be close to David, things are just too complicated for me right now." She rubbed her fingers over a light scar on her cheek. Connor noticed that she seemed to do it unconsciously whenever she was thinking. Impulsively, he reached over and touched the scar gently.

The haunted look from the previous night returned to her eyes as she said, "Vic."

He opened his mouth to speak but she stood abruptly, pulling away from him. "Let's go grab some lunch, and you can tell me what exactly happened to David" She said, changing the subject.

Fighting the urge to pull her back into his arms, he stood. "Italian or Chinese?"

-----

As they waited for their order to arrive, she asked, "How did you and Murphy meet David, anyway?"

Laughing, he said, "Now that's a fuckin' story. One night, at McGinty's, me brother and I were well into our pints when we heard someone firing up over at the pool table. It was Roc, of course. He had just lost a pool game to the biggest fuckin' guy in the bar. He was pissed at losing his twenty bucks and was letting the guy know about it in typical Roc fashion…loudly and with lots of expletives."

She had laughed at that. "David never did know when to keep his mouth shut. He always seemed to come out worse than the other guy, too."

He grinned at her. "He hadn't changed much then. In all the scrapes we've had at McGinty's, Roc played his part. I still can't go in there without thinkin' of him."

The smile left her eyes as she got around to asking him the question he knew was coming. "Why was David shot? He said he was doing good work with you in his letter. What was he talking about? I know before that he had been small time with the mob up here, right?"

He chose his words carefully before answering her questions, "Aye, Rocco had been a package boy for the Yakavetta family. Murph and I were working against the local mafia, and when Rocco found out, he decided to help us."

"Oh my god, you're not cops are you?" she gasped, eyes widening. "Undercover or something? Oh my god…"

Realizing she was terrified, but not understanding why, he leaned forward and put his had on hers. She jerked away as if stung.

"Luciana, we're not cops." He said, still perplexed by her reaction. "Seriously now, do we look like cops to ye?"

"What was David doing for you then, if he wasn't an informant?" She demanded, still perched on the edge of her seat.

"Listen, I can't go into that here, but I promise you, we're not cops. Wait until we get back to the apartment and I'll explain. Have I given ye any reason not to trust me?"

Before she could answer him, the waitress walked up with their lunch.

"Can we get this to go?" She asked, sending the waitress away, muttering under her breath. Giving him a long hard look, she narrowed her eyes, "Ok, but when we get back I want some answers."

"Not a problem." He replied huffily, sliding out of the booth. "Why'd ye get so upset when ye thought we were cops?"

Her answer stopped him in his tracks.

"Vic is a cop." She said, in a resigned voice. "He's going to be looking for me."

A/N: props to anyone who picked up the quote from The Big Chill in the opening scene. Can I just say that not giving Murphy a lady friend is killing me. It's only a matter of time, but I'm still coming up with a way to introduce her into the story.

Also, please, please, please review! I know there are people reading this story, so tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome!