A/N: The Winter Hill Gang actually did exist. It is unknown whether or not they are still active in North Boston. I do not own them, nor do I affiliate with them in anyway. Any and all portrayals are purely fictitious and any similarities are by pure accident. Jimmy Simms is a real person who was deeply involved with the WHG; his whereabouts are unknown at this date. I do not own him either. THX :D

P/S: This chapter gets a bit steamy. Quite descriptive too. Just a warning!

Chapter 9: Jimmy Simms

"Ok, so you need to find this Colin Fitzpatrick." Romeo said.

They were seated at a small card table in the back storage room of the restaurant. Connor and Murphy had put Branna between them. She was one who needed to do all the talking. She'd explained who Colin was, what he was good at and whom he'd worked for. She even described in detail what he looked like. When she got to the description, Romeo had said "Ok, tall dark and handsome. Got it." She'd stolen a glance at Murphy when the Mexican made the comment. His face had betrayed nothing but she could see the fire in his eyes.

"Ye think ye've seen who we be looking fer?" Connor asked hopefully.

"Well, I can't be too sure, but I have heard word on the street that there's a new guy in town helping out the Winter Hill Gang, but I've not seen anything come of it yet." Romeo replied thoughtfully.

"I thought the Winter Hill Gang had all but retired. Most of them are just racketeer junkies, fixing the horse races." Murphy looked confused.

Branna had no idea who any of these were. It was apparently quite evident on her face, as Connor turned to her to explain.

"The Winter Hill Gang are responsible for the great Gang war in Boston during the sixties. They didn't cause too much trouble for civilians, they were too busy drinking beer, fighting each other and betting their money on fixed races."

"Don't forget the drug trafficking," Murphy added. His twin nodded,

"Aye, the cocaine. Anyways, why the Winter Hill Gang?" Connor asked in confusion. "They're just old timers. What good would a bomb maker do them?"

Romeo stretched his neck. Leaning forward, he stretched his left leg out. From what Branna could tell he'd appeared to have healed well enough from the back injury to be able to stand and walk even, but not without heavy reliance on the cane.

"From what I've been able to glean from my informants, Jimmy Simms is missing. The men are having trouble keeping rein on their bookies and this new guy is helping them enforce the street." He said casually.

"Enforce the street? Branna, ye said Colin was their arms dealer. This guy can't be him." Murphy questioned.

Branna chewed her top lip. It didn't register. It wasn't making sense. Colin hadn't been an enforcer with the R.I.R.A. He'd been the main bomb builder. She didn't know of anything else Colin Fitzpatrick was better at.

"I don't know, he was more than an arms dealer Con, he was their number one bomb maker. His speciality was highly explosive nail bombs. It was a nail bomb that –" killed me flesh and blood. She finished in her head.

Murphy looked over sympathetically. The expression made Branna's heart hurt more. She wanted to take his hand in hers. He understood the pain this caused her. He may not have liked how she dealt with it, but at least he finally understood. The look in his eyes made her chest tighten. All she wanted to do was fall into his arms. All she wanted was for him to kiss her as gently as he did last night, before he'd turned into a pseudo-Freud. In an instant, she was fuming. If Colin hadn't killed her brother, if she hadn't been hell bent on a mission she wasn't even sure she'd be able to finish, she would have never left Ireland. She felt like such a fool. She'd given up the only thing that had made her truly happy after the death of Seamus. Given it up to chase a phantom.

This was all happening because Colin Fitzpatrick had made a nail bomb. He'd made a nail bomb, detonated it in public and killed not only her baby brother Seamus but also ten other civilians. It had been the worst attack from the R.I.R.A in over a decade. She could feel the tears coming. They were burning against her eyes. She had to move.

"I've got to powder me nose. Excuse me." She stood abruptly and walked out into the front of the restaurant.

* * * *

Murphy watched as Branna stiffened, trying to stifle the tears. It was hard for her to bring up her brother. He knew the story. She'd told him long ago. She hadn't told him that it was Colin's bomb, or that she was undercover in the R.I.R.A trying to find him, but she'd told him how the young man had died. She'd told him of the gore. He could see the distress in her eyes as she tried to maintain her composure. When she stood to leave, he knew why. Sometimes you just needed to cry it out alone.

"What's her problem?" Romeo asked thumbing the direction Branna went.

"The reason we're chasing this man is because he killed Branna's brother. Her only family left in this world. She's been hunting him for over ten years. She left –" Murphy caught himself. "Ireland to track him down. It's how she ended up here. She couldn't find him, and we ran into her. Somehow, Colin was able to find her in Boston, and the day he did, he saw her with us. She got a letter and photos with a warning. We got to find him Rome."

"What, do you guys like know her or something?" Romeo asked.

He looked in Murphy's direction and something in Murphy's face must have tipped him. Murphy could see the realization coming in waves across the Latino's face.

"Ahh, I get it. You used to bang her! Nice man! She does have a sweet little body on her –" Murphy cut him off, pointing a finger.

"Shut it. Don't be talkin' like that about her. She's more than just a body. Got it?" his temper flared. Romeo leaned back in his chair.

"Fair enough. I'm going to guess she's spoken for then?" he said pointedly to Murphy.

"Not quite." Connor interjected. "But I suggest ye leave it to Murph here. Branna Ferguson is a bit of a sore spot with him." He smirked.

Romeo nodded in understanding.

"Ok, I see. She jilted you didn't she?"

Before Murphy could answer, Branna appeared beside him.

"Actually Rome, yer right. I jilted poor Murph here. Ran out on him is more correct. But he did more than just 'bang me' as ye so put it," she made air quotes with her fingers. "Ye see, I was engaged to him." She said curtly taking a seat, silently revelling in the shock registering in Romeos face.

"And thank ye, I do have a quite a nice figure if I do say so meself." She continued without skipping a beat. "Do ye have any photos of this new guy? Because Colin knows where I am. He knows who I'm with. If I could just see who this new guy is whose working for this Winter Hill group."

"Sorry Chiquita, I don't have any photos right now, but gimme a couple of a days and I can get someone on the job. I got a cousin who does some investigation work and he owes me a favour." Romeo wiggled his eyebrows.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Murphy spoke.

Branna nodded in agreement. She looked over to Connor and Murphy saw his brother also agreed with the plan.

"Three days then? We come back in three days ye think ye might have something fer us?" Connor asked. The Mexican nodded.

"Leave it to Romeo. I'll take care of it."

The boys nodded. Murphy felt much better seeing Romeo face to face. It had been well over eight months since he'd seen the little man, and then he'd been gravely injured. To see him walking, albeit with a cane, but walking! That made Murphy smile even more.

* * * *

When they left the Silver Peso, Connor had said his adios and taken off. He cited that he had business to attend to. Branna had looked confused, but Murphy knew that Connor was going to troll the downtown to scope out any potential problems. He secretly hoped that Connor would get a glimpse of Colin. He should remember well enough what he looked like. The brothers had been pub friends with the man. They had frequented enough of the same venues that they learned in short order of his deeper dealings. It was then that they'd distanced themselves.

Back at the apartment, Branna had sat down at the kitchen table with a cigarette and a cup of coffee. Murphy walked into the small living room and flopped down on the couch. Swinging his legs up, he leaned into the worn furniture and folded his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes, hoping to catch a short nap.

"I wasn't happy." He heard from above him.

Opening his eyes, he saw Branna sitting on the short coffee table. He sat up, cocking an eyebrow.

"I wasn't happy." She repeated, folding her hands in her lap.

He didn't say anything. She was answering his question, but it wasn't the answer he had expected. When he didn't reply, she sighed.

"Ye asked me last night if I was happy, without ye. Ye didn't say that exactly, but I could tell it was what ye meant. I want ye to know, that the answer is no. I wasn't happy. It was the single hardest thing I ever had to do. Leaving ye was…" she trailed off.

Standing, she ran her hands through her hair that had fallen loose of its traditional knot. The long waves floated around her shoulders and down her back. Murphy stood and followed her paces. She stalked back and forth. He stood still. She was working herself up into a tizzy. He was afraid to step in and stop her lest she scratch his eyeballs out of pure adrenaline. Suddenly, she spun on her heel and faced him.

"Well God damn me all to the devil. Murphy, leaving ye broke me heart. The last ten years I've spent replaying that night over and over in me head. It's like a broken record; sometimes I just want to blow me own brains out so that it'll stop. It kills me. I know how much I hurt, and I can only imagine in me worst dreams how much it musta killed ye. I don't know how ye feel about me any more Murphy MacManus. I have no bloody clue." She took a breath and stepped towards him.

His breath slowed. He was speechless. For the second time in as short a period, Branna Ferguson had him at a loss for words.

"Sometimes, when ye have yer hands on me, or when ye look at me like ye did at Romeo's… sometimes I think that maybe there is still something there. Then ye run cold as the heart of Lucifer and it's like ye can't get far enough away from me."

She touched her hand to his forearm. Her fingers felt like fire on his bare arm. Murphy stood stoic. He watched her face as she tried to think of something more to say. It seemed as if she had something else to tell him, but she held her tongue. She swallowed hard. He watched her take a deep breath. Mirroring her, he gulped as she stepped in.

* * * *

Branna was sweating. Her heart felt like it was about to explode out of her chest. He stood like a frozen statue. His clear icy eyes were boring a hole into her. He hadn't said a word. After the last few days, all she wanted to do was hold him. She'd come to realize that she missed him more than her head would let her believe. Her heart had however, had a mind of its own.

Stretching up, she pressed her lips against his. His hands instantly were around her waist pulling her in. Wrapping her hands around Murphy's neck, Branna felt him deepen the kiss. She trailed her fingers up his neck and cupped his face. He moaned into her mouth and clutched her tighter. She sighed in his ear as his kisses trickled down her neck.

They pulled at each other, hardening the kisses; it became a mashing of their lips. Branna nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. Murphy groaned and in return clipped her collarbone shortly thereafter. His hand swept up into her hair and he closed a tight fist. He tugged her head back and kissed down her chin, planting kisses and the occasional nip down to her throat. Branna gasped at the force of it. She was used to his passion, but there seemed to be something more to this. She felt a fire burning in her belly, moving ever lower.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt, she pushed him back. Forcing kisses on him as she felt his hands roam up under the hem of her shirt. His fingers traced rough patterns on her naked back. It sent shivers up her spine, raising gooseflesh. Her breath was coming quicker. As they backed up, his legs finally hit the edge of the couch. In a tumble, she fell down on top of him. He pulled her close as she straddled his lap. There didn't seem to be a flow. One minute he was biting and scraping his nails down her back and pulling at her hair, the next he laid gentle kisses over the bite marks, gently pressing himself into her.

She groaned as she felt his hand move over her left breast. He cupped it gently and kissed down her neck, nudging the collar of her t-shirt out of the way to her shoulder. Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt and pulled. He lifted his arms and flipped the black top off with ease. Within seconds his arms were around her again. This time his hands moved up her back, fiery hot on her skin. He pushed her shirt up. She understood his meaning and leaned back to pull the shirt over her head.

* * * *

Murphy was having trouble breathing. His eyes roamed over her nearly naked body. A black satin bra covered her breasts. He didn't know the name of the style, but he knew it made them look even more delicious. Reaching up, he slid an arm around her to pull her towards him again. He wanted to feel her body heat. It had been so long. God he missed the way her body felt. Her brilliant green eyes pleaded with him. He saw the worry, the pain and something that terrified him. He saw her love.

She still loved him. That was what she'd been trying to say. That had been what she'd been trying to explain to him. The thought tightened his chest. What was he doing? She just finished telling him how confused she was. She'd been right. He had been running hot and cold on her. It was because he didn't know how much of what he felt was nostalgia, or really truly love. He couldn't do this. God, this was going to hurt.

Branna was busy setting kisses to his shoulders. Her hands were encircling his waist.

"Branna," he said quietly. She didn't answer.

"Branna, we have to stop this." He said a little louder. She still didn't answer.

"Stop it Branna. What the fuck are we doing?" He had finally had to resort to this.

She sat bolt upright. She was frozen like a deer in the headlights. Lord, please spare me the pain of what I'm about to do. He prayed silently. He looked at her, and he saw the lust of the moment wearing off and recognition coming into her eyes. He had to be quick or it'd be too late.

"Get off. We can't. It isn't right." He started to say when all of a sudden he saw stars.

She'd slapped him! Reeling from the impact, he felt the pressure of her body shift off his legs. Blinking, he saw her grabbing her shirt from the floor and tugging it over her head. She wasn't ranting. Or raving for that matter. She was deadly silent. This was not good.

"Branna look –" he started to say as he stood up. She glared at him.

"Don't. Just don't ok? Leave it be. We'll pretend this never happened. Obviously that is what ye want. Just don't ever look at me the way ye looked at me today. Don't give me fake sympathy. Don't pretend to love me to make me feel better. Just don't."

In an instant she was out the door. Murphy stood in the living room, rubbing the burning out of his cheek unsure of exactly what had just transpired.