Chapter Sixteen: Eight Years… Feels Longer

Her mouth felt dry and her brain went blank. Once Connor had finished telling the end of their story, Amy let her hands fall into her lap and her eyes closed for a short moment. There had been a lot of details in Connor and Murphy's tale about the last eight years; there had been a lot of processing for Amy in the past two hours. Amy stared at her watch – read it was six o'clock in the morning – and sighed.

She sat on the old couch in the apartment. Amy didn't remove the plastic covering and an old blanket that had been placed there. Her shins nudged against her chest and Amy felt her toes point to each other. Her hands rested on her knees and her eyes stared blankly at the pool table.

Connor and Murphy sat on the opposite sides of the young woman. Connor's arm rested above Amy's head while Murphy stared intently at the quiet female. While Connor inquired mentally whether he should pull the girl into his arms for comfort, Murphy struggled with the secret desire to just stare at Amy forever.

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Murphy had missed her. Damn she's gorgeous, he had thought while watching her listen to Connor talk.

He noticed that the eight years had been good to her. But Murphy knew better. Eight years was never easy. For anyone. Even for himself and his brother.

Her cheekbones were more defined – due to age and the loss of some weight. Her eyes were a different color; but Murphy was able to clearly remember those dark green eyes…

Despite the change of style and color in her hair, it had never been what made Amy, Amy.

Her physique was different. Not better. Different. But beautiful. Elegant. She was just as perfect as her teen years, but now, as a woman, she was sexier, bold, and charismatic.

The clothes suggested she was a business woman now. However Murphy had already known that. In half the time Amy had passed out, Doc had given a few details about Amy's life to the MacManus brothers.

The eight years had been tough. Murphy could never have imagined Doc and Amy having a falling-out.

Car accident… Amy could never have children…

Murphy then eyed the ring on Amy's hand. It wasn't an engagement ring – yet – but a question. A question Amy had not yet answered.

If Doc had known about the short-relationship Amy and Murphy once had, the old man wouldn't have delivered the news with such excitement and dismay.

"She can't let herself be ha-ha-happy," Doc had said. "The man is a good man. I think she loves him. She's j-j-just scared. Too many issues with the men in her life. I b-b-better see that girl married soon… for her own sake. Not that the g-g-girl needs marryin', she just needs a bit o' happiness. And a family of her own can do dat."

Murphy took a second glance at the ring. It was something a rich man would give to a woman just to impress her.

He didn't like the square frame surrounding the diamond.

And Murphy instinctively didn't like the man that had asked Amy to marry him.

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Connor stared at the silent Amy. He had just finished the story of his and Murphy's life in Ireland. She just needs a moment to let it sink in…Connor thought sadly. For the first time he noticed how his and Murphy's leaving had affected Amy. She was quiet and cold. Her body language alerted Connor that she was not to be touched in that moment.

He just wanted to hug the girl. Since the moment Connor saw Amy enter the apartment, he had just wanted to hold her and keep her in his grasp.

Amy was not the girl he remembered. Not exactly. Same girl, but older. He realized he was older in a much different way, yet Amy had changed in a surprising way as well. Connor understood that Amy was a healthy, fit woman with an obvious obsession with her work.

He continued to watch Amy think. She had not asked a single question during the time Connor had talked. If there had been anything to question about, Murphy had jumped in with a few more details to help explain any confusion.

But she had never appeared confused. Amy, during the whole story-time, had listened with her eyes staring at the pool table. She occasionally turned to Murphy and Connor – only when their story had focused on them for a bit: like when Connor told Amy about how Ivan the Russian had handcuffed him to the toilet in their apartment. Amy turned to stare at Connor. Or when Murphy had been put on his knees to face the Russian's gun. Amy turned to stare at Murphy.

And when the part about Rocco came up, Amy merely stared at her hands.

Connor's arm rested on the back of the couch. His hand was just inches away from Amy's head – he wanted to stroke her hair and wrap his arm around her shoulders.

But he held back. Connor knew the three of them just couldn't jump back into being friendly again – like eight years ago. Things were different. Murphy and Connor had their mission – and never, at any time, did their mission include her.

If anything, Connor thought, we're doing this to keep her safe…

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Rocco had been killed by Don Yakavetta.

Amy felt guilty. She had always scolded Connor and Murphy – mentally – about the court room shooting, but now she suddenly felt glad for it. But it was wrong. She thought it was still all wrong.

She tried to picture it… Yakavetta approaching Rocco…Connor and Murphy screaming, begging… Rocco being shot…hitting the floor… telling them to never stop…

She closed her eyes.

And their father… Connor and Murphy's father had been the third, older man with them. The third Saint.

And they were much older now…

But they both looked good in her eyes. Amy had been stunned by Connor and Murphy's appearances. Their faces…their bodies…

It was shocking to her. The skin beneath their eyes was proof of their old age. They were still physically fit, however they had the bodies of thirty-five-year-old men – not the twenty-seven-year-olds Amy had remembered.

Amy embarrassed herself by picturing Murphy's body. She mentally picked him because he was the only MacManus brother Amy had seen everything of…

They were no longer quirky, Irishmen in their late twenties; Connor and Murphy MacManus were men in their mid-thirties – almost forty – and they were wanted killers.

Amy took in a deep breath. Her shift in her seat on the couch made Murphy and Connor alert of her actions.

They readied themselves for her to say something…anything…

Amy finally said, "You do…this…" Amy turned to Connor, "because God told you so?"

"Aye," Connor nodded. "Granted us permission, if you will. 'Destroy all that which is evil'…"

Amy turned to Murphy. He spoke softly, "'So that which is good may flourish'…"

She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in confusion. "I… I don't think I'll ever understand…that…"

"Look love, we're not lookin' for approval here," Connor reminded. "We just wanted to tell ya the truth. Finally. We've told ya everything. Everything about what happened here in Boston…"

Murphy: "In Ireland."

Connor: "We just want ta be straight wit' ya."

Amy nodded slowly. "Straight with me…" she repeated. "And…why couldn't you be straight with me…eight years ago?"

Murphy: "'Cause we thought it be best to protect ya." He rubbed his mouth on his wrist. "Didn't want to involve you with it."

Her eyes sank sadly. Amy looked at Murphy tenderly and tried to hold back more tears. The urge to cry more infuriated Amy. She stopped herself from crying, again.

Amy turned her gaze back to the pool table.

"So you told me now…" Amy questioned bitterly. "How did you know I wouldn't go to the cops, right now?"

"If you had wanted to tell the police, you would have done it by now," Connor grinned. "And if ya had run away screamin', we woulda had Romeo chase afta ya and tie ya up."

"No gag. We don't believe in gaggin' a woman," Murphy joked.

"Oh yeah, Romeo…" Amy thought aloud. (The new recruit was downstairs with Doc at the bar.) "I get how he got involved in this… but…" Amy looked at Murphy. "Rocco died. Aren't you afraid of getting another man killed?"

"Rocco didn't die in vain. And we didn't get him killed," Murphy said gently, trying to cover the harsh tone in his throat. "He made his decisions."

"Right, but he didn't have God's permission, now did he?" Amy thwarted. "You guys got the heavenly 'OK' but Romeo…and Rocco…" She shook her head angrily.

She stood up and hugged herself. Her body language was so stiff and harsh. Connor and Murphy remained in their places.

Amy laughed quietly to herself. "Even if I had gone to the police, you got special friends inside right? Three detectives?"

"More like the Stooges," Murphy laughed. "But we haven't gone for help or anythin' from them."

"Yet," Connor thought aloud. He and his brother stared at one another silently.

Amy noticed the ominous stare. "There's one thing you guys haven't told me…" She stared sternly at their faces. "Now that you're here…what do you plan on doing?"

Connor began to stand; Murphy slowly stood up from the couch.

"Do you really want to know love?" Connor asked.

Amy pressed her lips together and her eyes widened as she thought. "No," she said quickly. "Or at least…not right now."

"Good, because right now we don't have a fuckin' clue yet of what to do actually," Murphy added. He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "It's why we got Romeo. He's a bit more familiar with Boston-nowadays."

Connor approached Amy gently and rested a hand on her shoulder. He leaned in and whispered, "Listen love. It's been a long night. You need sleep."

"Work, right?" Murphy asked.

Amy nodded her head.

Connor looked at Amy, then Murphy, then went back to the young woman. "I'm gonna go downstairs and have Doc call ya a cab."

Amy: "I can walk-"

Connor: "Not wit' ya faintin' tonight. You're getting a ride."

The concerned twin left Amy and Murphy alone in the living room. Connor took a look back at the two before he trotted down the stairs.

Murphy bit his lip as he looked at Amy. Her eyes were frozen on him, suddenly, and Murphy took a step closer toward her.

"You alright, Amy?"

She blinked several times before she answered, "I think." Amy forced a smile. "I'm glad you're back…"

"But…" Murphy continued for her…

"It's just…" Amy allowed a small laugh to come out, "you're here…because you've been framed. A priest is dead and somewhere out there is a man who wants you here…" She shook her head. "I remember the men that drank at this bar every night… the men who watched me hit puberty…the men who I always pictured in my life…" She looked at Murphy sadly. "I remember the Murphy MacManus from eight years ago."

"Still here, love," Murphy whispered. He took a couple of steps toward Amy. Their faces were just inches apart and Amy could feel Murphy's breath on her cheek.

"I don't know what to do from here…" Amy asked. "You're back. But… probably not for long."

"Aye, we're not sure what will happen…" Murphy explained softly. "Once we're finished with this…"

"Go back to Ireland?"

"Maybe."

"Can I ask something personal…and probably ridiculous?" Amy asked with a shy grin.

Murphy relaxed his shoulders. "Ask anything."

Amy tilted her head to the side. "What were you thinking…when you saw me tonight…for the first time in eight years…"

The dark-haired MacManus brother smiled slyly and said, "What I really want to say…would be too inappropriate to say to a woman…" His eyes stared directly at the ring on Amy's finger. "Who is spoken for."

Amy looked down at her hand. She raised it in front of her chest and Murphy took her wrist into his grasp gently.

"Lucky man," Murphy noted. His eyes looked into Amy's. "Are ye happy?"

The woman looked up into pair of blue eyes. She looked into the older, familiar face with the same beauty mark. Amy recognized the small lips that had always been her favorite aspect of the man, physically. Her breath mingled with his in the air.

"Yes," Amy lied. Murphy knew immediately she wasn't telling the truth. Amy smiled – a fake smile – and shrugged: "It's all this work that's keeping me from making a definite answer."

"If you love the man, marry 'im," Murphy advised gently. "You do love the man, right?"

Amy took her wrist back. She hugged herself quietly and nodded.

"You do have the characteristics of a woman in love," Murphy added sarcastically.

Amy looked up sharply. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always…"

Amy continued to stare into Murphy's face. She didn't want to admit it, but Amy enjoyed the closeness. During her time at university, Amy had daydreamed of what it would have been like if Murphy returned and found her…

Her dream had finally come true.

"I'm not the little girl you once knew, Murphy," Amy explained. She took a step away from the man. "I want to say how happy I am that you're here… and to explain my joy in the fact that I now know everything…"

"But…"

"But things change," Amy sighed. "You have. Connor has. I have." She allowed her arms to rest by her sides. "I don't know if I'll come back here. To…catch up…some more…I guess. I do have work to do and I can't jeopardize myself by visiting Boston's Most Wanted…"

"Amy-"

"However…" Amy added in quickly. "If there's time to spare…I'll call Doc first…and if the time is…appropriate…I'll stop by."

Murphy nodded slowly. He watched Amy retreat to the apartment door and stairs. Before she disappeared-

"Amy!" Murphy called.

She whirled around with her foot down on the next step.

Murphy: "When I saw you…I didn't see the little Amy Jensen I met when I first arrived at McGinty's…I saw the woman from eight years ago…the school-college-obsessed perfectionist…the prettiest girl I've ever-…the one that asked me to take her to see a dirty movie…" He smiled slowly. "I saw you."

Amy returned the smile. "I'm not sure that was me. Goodnight Murphy." She skipped down the stairs.

Murphy could hear her explain the same visiting-plan to Connor: "I'll come by when I'm not busy. And when you're not busy." He heard her say goodnight to Connor, Romeo, and Doc. The sound of McGinty's door closing told Murphy that she was gone.

His eyes were wide as Murphy stared blankly at the floor. His rear leaned against the pool table and his arms were crossed over his chest.

Connor ran up the stairs and found his brother remaining quiet and still.

He stuck his hands into his pockets and Connor approached Murphy slowly. Five feet away, Connor stared at Murphy questionably. He couldn't tell what was going on in his brother's mind...

"Good seein' her, aye?" Connor asked. "After all this time…after talkin' about her for eight years with Da in Ireland…felt good to see her."

"Aye," Murphy agreed quietly. "It's just…"

"What is it brother?"

Murphy looked up with a surprised expression on his face. "I didn't realize I had missed her so much."

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Author's Note: More to come! Promise!

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