A/N: Thank you to IrishSaints, Jade Opal, wolfchick11 and Effigy for the reviews! I really appreciate that you're keeping this story alive. Unfortunately, though, "Even In Heaven" is taking more of my time because more people seem to be enjoying that particular story. I have a few more ideas for this story, but we'll see where it takes me. I have planned out the next three chapters, and it seems like it is a good idea to end this story in Chapter 23. This can be the end of "Season 1" of a TV show, in other words. I will leave it to that until I start having ideas for this particular story and the continuation - a "Season 2". Until then, hope you like the rest of what I have so far! xx IFHD

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Chapter 20: Beatification

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"Cry"

By: James Blunt

I have seen peace. I have seen pain,
Resting on the shoulders of your name.
Do you see the truth through all their lies?
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?
And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.

I have seen birth. I have seen death.
Lived to see a lover's final breath.
Do you see my guilt? Should I feel a fright?
Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?
And if you want to talk about it once again,
On you I depend. I'll cry on your shoulder.
You're a friend.

You and I have lived through many things.
I'll hold on to your heart.
I wouldn't cry for anything,
But don't go tearing your life apart.

I have seen fear. I have seen faith.
Seen the look of anger on your face.
And if you want to talk about what will be,
Come and sit with me, and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.
And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
Once again.
Cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.

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Lourdes had pulled the trigger first.

The bullet casing repeatedly bounced beside her feet. Following its fall, she dropped from the chair to her knees, holding the smoking gun upon her lap. Craig's body limped slowly, gun dropping from his hand as he fell over on his stomach, sporting a gaping hole in his skull. With a loud thud, his body hit the concrete floor, a pool of blood instantly appearing from underneath him in wild rivulets. Lourdes let out a shaky breath, hands on the cold floor, trembling arms barely supporting her. She could hear Isolde and Braden wildly murmuring through their gags through the ringing in her ears. Though, she had no energy to move and help them at that moment as she was still frozen, shaking, and cold on the ground.

Connor, Murphy and Sean appeared at the doorway a few moments later, guns all drawn in front of them. Quickly surveying the room, they spotted the bloody mess that was now Craig's corpse a few meters in front of them. Slowly lowering their weapons, they saw that the three agents were alive and breathing, much to their relief. Jogging to her side, Connor was by Lourdes immediately, holding her steady as she continued to sit upon the ground. Without a word passing between them, Murphy and Sean marched toward Isolde and Braden, untying them simultaneously. Craig's lifeless body remained untouched, avoided as though it were a plague, as it lay between them.

Isolde squirmed as Murphy touched her, untying her blindfold and gag first. "Shh, hey, I ain't gonna hurt ye." He whispered soothingly, placing his gun on the ground. As the blindfold loosened, Isolde's bright-green eyes met Murphy's instantly. As the ropes behind her fell, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him in utter gratitude, embracing him quickly. Murphy was taken aback by the sudden action for a few moments, but finally managed a smile, awkwardly embracing her in return. "Shh, 'tis alright. Yer safe now."

"Fuckin' hell, Flannagan." Braden groaned, twisting his neck and arms in utter pain. He eyed his fellow agent in both wonder and gratitude. "That was some shit ye pulled. First ye had me thinkin' ye were dirty, and then I thought ye were gonna kill the boss. Wanted to shoot ye down meself, I did!"

Sean grinned at him lopsidedly as he continued to untie him. He answered jokingly, "I deserve an Oscar for that shit, and a Nobel Prize for this entire set-up."

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Upon receiving clearance from all four of the agents, the Saints marched behind them as they all made their way through the Irish Embassy. Connor and Murphy were both a little agitated at being watched so closely by guards and having security cameras all over them, but both Lourdes and Sean assured them that everything would be fine. Throughout their journey, Isolde and Braden were filled in on what happened and what was currently happening, though Lourdes and Sean steered clear of anything having to do with the Saints. As they were all properly introduced upon arriving at the Embassy, Connor and Murphy remained quiet, admitting that they were just men who had helped a cousin in need. Thankfully, Isolde and Braden accepted this explanation for now, not pressing the matter any further by questioning the MacManus brothers. They were even informed about Connor's real name and the undercover operation that he had pulled, but they accepted it at face value and didn't question it either. At the moment, the two rescued agents were just relieved that they were alive and had more allies than enemies, no matter what their real names were.

They filed into Sean's room, each fatigued from the day's events. Plopping down tiredly on the beds and on the chairs, the six made themselves comfortable, a complacent silence enveloping the room. Lourdes, though, was not at ease, and had not been so ever since she had learnt of what hadreally happened to Colin. So, before any of the group began to speak, she quietly excused herself, swiftly heading for the door. With concerned expressions, the five observed her as she exited Sean's room and entered hers across the hallway.

Sean cleared his throat to break the silence. "So, now that ye've heard our story," he twisted his head towards Isolde and Braden, lying down on his bed as he gulped down a can of beer, "How'd he lure ye guys out?"

Isolde frowned at the memory. "Craig came in pretending to be all distraught. He said that Lourdes was in danger, so we followed him as quickly as we could, not notifying any of the guards where we were goin' because, well, we didn't know where we were goin'. Neither of us even thought that Craig was dirty, so we just followed him without a thought." She explained, though smiling thankfully at Murphy as he gave her a can of Heineken. "Of course we didn't doubt him and left without letting the Embassy guards know what we were doin'. We were more worried about Lourdes."

"He had a car waitin' out in front." Braden continued the tale, chugging the beer in front of him. "Just as we sat in the back, he pointed a gun at us. We didn't know what the fuck was goin' on, and it even crossed my mind that he was playin' some sorta prank on us, but he just told us to shut the fuck up or he'd hammer bullets in our heads. We cooperated as best as we could, and they just took us to the warehouse at the harbour and left us there, tied to chairs, for a few days."

"He was a mole in yer team, if ye haven't already guessed, workin' for Keiran O'Sullivan." Murphy was quick to interject, taking a seat beside Isolde. "We've been tryin' to find out who the mole was out of all of ye. Guess that's over with now."

"What about the bodies?" Sean questioned out loud, though his gaze growing distant.

"Our Da, Sean's uncle, was with Smecker the entire time, and he spoke with Smecker already about Sean's plan." Connor informed everyone in the room. "They're at the morgue. Smecker's coverin' for us, but he'll make everythin' about O'Sullivan public. The fucker won't be able to walk around Boston without being recognized." He took a long drag of his cigarette, blankly staring at the floor. "They're takin' care of O'Sullivan."

At the thought, Isolde's face scrunched in complete distaste. "I must say, though, that I would never have thought one of us would help these Unionist bastards."

"He must've already been dirty way before he joined the team." Braden mused, almost as if to himself.

Isolde only looked out of the doorway, seeing that the door was left half open. Through it, she saw that Lourdes' door was partly closed. Frowning once more, she sighed. "I just hope the boss is okay."

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Lourdes stared endlessly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as if trying to recognize who was looking back at her. She allowed the sink to run, its soothing whooshing noise the only sound that she could hear. It seemed so faint to her. Over and over, she would wash her hands, her face, her arms, scrubbing and scrubbing, but she still didn't feel clean. What was happening to her? What was she feeling? The words of a now dead man, whose death she was responsible for, haunted her. She knew that his words would haunt her more than his ghost ever could.

Craig Malley had killed Colin McDougall.

After the days, months, and weeks she had spent wondering and trying to uncover what had gone wrong, she had finally received her answer. She remembered all of those nights that she had cried herself to sleep, suffered through terrifying nightmares, all over the loss of the one who she had loved – still loved? She didn't know anymore. Maybe it was partly guilt that was responsible. Maybe she didn't grieve properly, didn't grieve enough. Maybe she just felt responsible for it. He had been her agent, not only her lover, and she had let him down by not being able to solve his death, but now, letting a snake of an agent join their team.

A sudden knock on her door startled Lourdes from her thoughts, causing her to slightly jump. Taking the towel and quickly drying herself, she finally turned off the faucet, making herself as presentable as she could before she answered the door. She opened the door slowly, tying the strings on the bathrobe that she had slipped on. Connor appeared, his form overshadowing hers as he leaned his elbow on the doorframe, curiously looking down at her. He entered slowly, closing the door behind him. Without a word, he swiftly cupped her face in his hands, enveloping her lips in a hungry, passionate kiss. With a sigh and a whimper, Lourdes returned the kiss, though much more gently, as she gingerly wrapped her arms around his neck. Slowly, Connor pinned her upon the back of the door, pressing himself upon her, though careful not to crush her. He continued his assault on her senses, feeling her, tasting her, breathing in her scent. He rested his warm, calloused hands upon her cold neck, his thumbs lightly caressing her cheeks. Pulling away a few moments later, Connor rested his forehead upon hers, still holding her closely.

"Ye alright?" he whispered almost inaudibly as he continued to caress her cheek with the back of his long fingers.

With a trembling sigh, Lourdes managed to nod her head as she lied, "Yes."

He rubbed the sides of her arms, gently kissing her forehead, resting his lips there. "Yer shakin'."

Lourdes couldn't keep this façade any longer. With a sob, she embraced Connor tightly, clutching onto him as if for dear life. In between shaky breaths, she sputtered, "I murdered him, Connor. I wanted revenge. I…I wanted to kill him!"

Connor tried to soothe her as best as he could, admitting to himself that he had only comforted others in rare occasions. He rubbed her back softly, pressing his lips upon hers once more as he stated in all honesty, "The fucker deserved it, Lourdes. He deserved it."

Silent tears ruthlessly cascaded down Lourdes' cheeks as she rested her head upon his strong chest. Feeling his arms tighten around her, she said, "He wanted to know where my father was. He sought me out so that I could tell him where he was!"

"What?" Why would they want Riley Villamor? Connor himself was confused by this, having no answer to give her. Sifting through the unanswered questions in his head, he continued to hush her. "Look, ye've had a rough night. Sleep on it, alright? We'll talk about it in the mornin'."

That was all it took. Lourdes felt so comforted, felt so reassured, by his mere words. With her misty eyes looking up at his alternately, she whispered, "Stay with me tonight?"

Connor's curious gaze landed on her flushed face, his eyes as searching as hers. After a while, he finally gave her a simple nod, releasing her slowly, reluctantly. As he made his way to the bathroom to prepare for sleep, Lourdes languidly walked towards her bed, feeling so emotionally and physically drained. She needed – wanted – Connor to be with her tonight. She just wanted to be held again - as Colin has held her, no matter what she was going through. Right now, she felt so cold, so distant from the world – so alone.

Maybe Connor could be the one to help her.

Emerging from the washroom after a few minutes, Connor's bright eyes immediately landed on the bed. Lourdes laid underneath the covers in her satin nightgown, staring up at the ceiling. Hearing him approach, her eyes fluttered to his form, which stood, hesitantly, a few meters away. In response, she innocently pulled the covers off the bed, motioning for him to join her.

Connor gulped. Why the fuck are ye nervous? He chastised himself. Yer acting like it's yer first time sleepin' with a woman! Continuing to angrily chide himself as he began to move, he slowly and awkwardly made his way towards the bed. As he sat upon the edge, Lourdes slightly turned away from him, making herself more comfortable. In a swift motion, Connor removed his rosary, then his shirt, placing them both on the nightstand beside him. After this, he finally joined Lourdes underneath the covers. Peering down at her in the dim light, he could see that her eyes were again turned towards the ceiling, as if concentrating on a particular spot.

"Should I feel guilty about killing him?" Lourdes questioned almost inaudibly, gaze finally flickering towards Connor's form.

He turned on his side, propping his head upon his hand. Ever so gently, he brushed tendrils of her hair from her face, giving his head a slow but firm shake. "No, Lourdes, ye shouldn't. He was an evil man who was responsible for the death of yer agent. There's nothing you should regret."

She gave him a nod of understanding, mindlessly caressing his cheeks and lips with her dainty fingertips. "I'm glad that you're here with me."

It a move that slightly surprised Connor, Lourdes began to nibble on his lips. Her kissing became more erratic when he returned the favour, sliding his body closer to hers, the lengths of their bodies now touching. With slight hesitance, Connor enclosed Lourdes in his arms, fingers hovering over the small of her back, then down to her bottom. Meeting her stormy eyes, as if asking for permission, Connor began to trace the line of her spine, feeling her shiver beneath his fingertips. When he heard no word of protest, he then brought his fingers to the hem of her nightgown, hiking it up higher and higher. Lourdes felt so undone by his wandering touch, her breath audibly shaking as she exhaled.

Connor was lost. Something had taken over him, his actions uncontrollable, automatic. He pushed away the memories of what had transpired the last time he was in bed with her, believing that circumstances were now different. He must admit though, that he didn't mind being under her control once more. Feeling her strong thighs, Connor pulled her leg around him, abruptly rolling her over upon her back and hovering above her. Though she gasped in surprise, no words escaped Lourdes' lips. Her fiery orbs told Connor all that he needed to know.

A small, mischievous grin appeared on Lourdes' face as she bucked her hips upwards to meet Connor's. He let out a low hiss at this, aroused by the sensation of her body beneath his. His hands greedily cupping her breasts through the thin fabric, Connor covered her lips with his once more, letting out a low, throaty groan as she pleasingly shifted below him. Raking her fingernails down his exposed back, Lourdes let out a moan, reveling in the feeling of his warm, perspiring skin upon hers. Lourdes herself was thinking about the last time she was in this position with Connor. Disregarding the outcome of her little plot to expose the Saint, she had to admit that the experience was morethan pleasurable. Even though she had meticulously planned her moves, she didn't expect the heightened emotions that Connor had evoked, the raw pleasure that he had ignited within her. His body, scent, his abilities intoxicated her, the curiosity as to what this man was capable of embedded in her mind. Without so much as a thought, Lourdes pushed upon Connor's broad chest, wanting him to roll over so that she would be able to straddle him. Though, what she didn't account for was the size of the tiny hotel mattress.

In an instant, Connor rolled off the bed and fell with a thud upon the ground.

With a gasp, Lourdes' eyes shot open. Resting her hands upon the edge of the mattress, she peered down towards Connor, who groaned and writhed upon the carpeted ground with his eyes closed. The shocked expression plastered upon Lourdes' face immediately disappeared. Feeling the ticklish sensation within her stomach, she placed a hand upon her mouth, though unable to fight her giggles. When Connor recovered and propped himself upon his elbows, Lourdes couldn't control herself any longer and began to laugh boisterously.

Eyeing her with a mocking brow and pursed lips, Connor mumbled, "I'm glad yer 'avin the time of yer life up there while I'm down 'ere rubbin' a bruised arse."

"More like a bruised ego." retaliated Lourdes, earning a shocked expression from the Saint.

"Oi!" he cried out with a laugh, standing up so quickly that it evoked a slight shriek from Lourdes. Now bent upon 'revenge', Connor mounted Lourdes once more, this time releasing a barrage of tickles upon her body. Kicking and screaming in delight, Lourdes unsuccessfully tried to halt the Saint, the ticklish sensation weakening her. All she could muster were a few slaps on his shoulders and chest. Connor chuckled to himself, nipping and biting at the side of her neck as he continued his attack on her.

After a good minute, Connor finally halted, with Lourdes breathing heavily and erratically. Looking down upon her flustered face, he commented, "I didn't think I'd make ye hot and sweaty by…tickling ye."

Lourdes pursed her lips seductively as she caught her breath. "There's a first time for everything."

"That's true." Connor mused, then said to himself, But it shouldn't be tonight. Not tonight. So, with another kiss on her forehead, Connor rolled (carefully) to her side, wrapping his arms protectively around her. She automatically moved closer to him, drawn to his warmth, strength and kindness. Finding a comfortable spot to place her head, she finally closed her eyes, resting her hand upon his chest. With a last look at the woman that he held in his arms, Connor outstretched his hand, turning off the lamp beside him.

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A/N: Oh Connor, what a cutie! Hope you guys like it. Like I said, the end of "Season 1" of this story is almost at an end, but hey, "Even In Heaven" will get even better. I promise! xx IFHD