DO NOT OWN. I think I'm using this word right: Lemons (?) in this chapter between ConnorXMeegan. And please REVIEW! Also lots of love to my reviewers and I tried to fix some of the grammar. Here's hoping it's better.

CHAPTER 4: Narrator

Meegan and Bridget sat on the foot of a bed. Each one had a wrist in a shining handcuff attached to a bed post, and one cuff between them. The boys sat across from them on a couch a bit more than arm's length away. Connor found himself staring at the black haired girl a lot. When he was searching her he wanted to lift her shirt, unbutton her pants, slide them down her legs… 'Wait, what's going on?' He asked himself as the girls and Murphy laughed.

"Aye, what's goin' on?" He asked in an adorable Irish accent. Meegan smiled at him. Bridget lost her smile. In her opinion Meegan was acting like a star-struck teenager. It wasn't professional, it wasn't smart, it was girlish and therefore strange behavior for Meegan. She hated it when Meegan flaked out on her like this. Bridget hated going out on the town with her because this was the way she acted, but she would never approach a guy. She would wait the whole night for someone to talk to her; it made for boring nights.

"Nothin'," Murph assured his twin. "Alright, ladies, we need names and no bullshit." They looked at each other, and Meegan nodded to Bridget. It was okay to talk. They had nothing to hide.

"I'm Bridget Kelly. I live in mid-town, but my family lives on the South side. They have an appliance store. I run a Dry Cleaner's my uncle owns." She said as best she could through her wires. Murphy listened to every strained word wanting to ask if she was with someone. It was relevant, but he didn't want to come off as hitting on her. For right now he could be perceived as friendly.

"And I'm Meegan McLeod. I live in Southie. My father is a piece of shit. I loved my mother. My brother's in the war. And I'm a boxer." Something dawned on Murphy.

"Underground boxing? Both of ya?" They looked at each other and nodded.

"Da talked about that match, between these two," Murphy looked at them wide eyed. "Ya tried to kill each other. You won." He gestured to the light eyed, dark haired, fair skinned Meegan and she looked at the floor and clutched the chain of the cuffs between her and Bridget. Bridget laid her eyes on the floor and let her fingers brush Meegan's.

"It was reputation fight. These things happen." Bridget said as sweetly as possible with a wired jaw. Meegan still couldn't look at her. This was the girl that got her a date to prom, walked her to school every day after 9/11, held her when her boyfriend of two years left her, bought her the pregnancy test that turned positive and drove her to the hospital when she miscarried. One fight wasn't going to change the fact that they loved each other.

The boys were each transfixed on the girl they were sitting across from. Connor wanted to put his hand on Meegan's head; wanted to comfort her at least a little. 'Meegan,' he thought, 'her name's Meegan.' She looked lovely in white, with the cross and plain jeans. Then it dawned on him that she was wearing the cross. His father had given it to her, he knew that. She said 'your father sent me'…

Murphy looked at all the colors in Bridget's hair, looked at her lovely pale hand rubbed red at the wrist by the handcuffs. He had the strong urge to uncuff her then, but these girls were dangerous. He repeated her name in his head. Bridget Kelly. He had heard it before when his dad talked about the match and it had a ring of destiny to it then. Bridget Kelly with sparkling blue eyes and red hair.

"Meegan," Connor had to keep his poker face for this, "you were there when our father was murdered." It wasn't a question, but she answered it like one.

"I wasn't there when he was shot, but I heard it. I was around the corner." She had to keep it together for this. "I ran around the corner and there was someone just booking it down the street. I was gonna chase that guy, but your dad stopped me. He was… just lying in a trash pile. So, I pulled him out of the garbage and laid him down on the sidewalk. Then he put this around my neck." She gestured with her head to her chest, raven hairs falling over her face. "And he said a prayer I won't ever forget… cause I'm pretty sure it was… about killing."

"Say it." The boys said together. Everyone looked at Meegan. Bridget looked in awe, and the boys' expressions were unreadable.

"And shepherds we shall be,

For thee, my Lord, for thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand

Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee

And teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti."

"Does that make her a Saint?" Murphy asked his brother in Italian. Meegan looked at Bridget in surprise. They recognized Italian but they didn't know what the boys were saying.

"I think it does. Why else would he have said our prayer and put the rosary on her?"

"He made her a Saint." Murphy said resolutely.

"So… does that mean she's a saint too?" He asked, meaning Bridget. They looked at her and Bridget looked away like she was busy observing the room.

"No, but she's important. I don't know how yet, but she is." They nodded in agreement.

"Isn't that just like Dad to leave us with women, wondering what to do?" Connor added, running his hand through his hair.

"It is, but they're not bad looking. So, maybe he did us a favor?"

"A back-handed favor." Then everyone was quiet.

"What now?" asked Bridget, knowing just from their tone that they were done privately speaking. Murphy eyed her seriously. It was his brother's call, but since he spied their wrists were getting sore he'd wanted to release them. Anyone who was close with the boys would agree that Murphy had a couple more feelings than his brother, but it was a sacrifice Connor had made when they became Saints.

"We can't have you running off tellin' everyone where we are, but we don't want to keep prisoners."

"What does that mean?" Scoffed Bridget.

"Means no handcuffs, but you can't leave. Not yet." Murphy responded harshly. She was pretty but she was fiery like her hair.

"We can't leave?" Piped Meegan as she looked into Connor's crisp blue eyes with a desperate look on her face. Liam was calling from Iraq tonight. He was calling her house phone. He shook his head resolutely.

"Bridget, what are we going to do?" Asked Meegan in Greek. Murphy and Connor looked at each other astonished.

"I don't know. They're armed and it's not like we can just promise to keep quiet. They wouldn't believe us." She responded logically.

"Liam is calling tonight." There was silence between them as Bridget turned white. There was no way she was going to miss Liam's call. The call she'd receive at her apartment.

"Look at them; it's not like they're heartless. Just tell them what is happening." The boys listened to the Greek but didn't understand.

"And give away our weakness?"

"We already know their weakness."

"Each other," they said at the same time. "It will show trust if we let them know about Liam. Plus he is in Iraq, what can they do?" Continued Bridget. Murphy and Connor were feeling a nicotine craving about the same time as they watched their 'captives' come to some secret agreement. They would love to trust the girls. It would make their lives so much easier to let them go home, but about half of the public loved them and half of the public absolutely hated them. Which half they were hadn't been revealed yet, and it wasn't like them to ask.

"We can't stay here." Claimed Meegan.

"Oh al'righ then, we'll just let you walk right out o' here." Said Connor with as much sarcasm as possible, throwing his arms out and leaning back on the couch. Murphy held in a chuckle.

"My brother is calling from Iraq tonight." Everyone got quiet and watched each other. 'Dammit,' thought Connor, 'she's not lying'. He shook his head and swept his hand over his mouth; his subconscious motion that meant he was thinking about smoking. "He's calling me at my house and Bridget at her apartment. Usually he'd call us both at my place, but he thinks were not speaking because of the thing where…"

"The thing where you tried to kill her," said Connor trying to finish her sentence.

"Right," said Meegan, narrowing her eyes at the handsome Irishman. Connor rolled the idea over in his mind. If Murphy approved his plan he would be spending the night alone with Meegan. That was too good to pass up, 'and to be honest,' he thought, 'Murph and I could stand to spend some fucking time apart.'

"Okay." He said.

"Okay?" Responded Bridget.

"Okay, we'll take you home, but Murphy's going with you. And I'm going with Meegan." Instantly Bridget didn't like that. She'd seen what a guy could do to Meegan especially one with loose morals and there's a huge difference between murder and loving-and-leaving a girl; leaving a girl is easier.

"I'd rather you come with me Connor." She snarled.

"Look at you in handcuffs tryin' to make the rules. A-fucking-dorable." He said mussing her hair. Bridget had half a mind to bite him. Meegan didn't think about it. She just wanted to hear from her brother. Her monthly phone call was like a holiday.

"Do what you think is necessary. Just get me home." She finally said.

"Can do, love." Said Murphy jingling the handcuff keys and smiling. This plan was perfect.