Author's note: Thank you for your help, your input and general awesomeness, UntilNeverDawns! (aka best beta in the world!)

Thank you, dear readers. You're pretty awesome, too. Wanna know how to increase your level of awesomeness? Hit the review button. That should do the trick. :)


When they came back, Tim greeted them with the words: "What'd you do in there? Drink a whole bottle of Scotch?"

"No, I had to console your sister because she was bloody devastated by the news you've just given her," Stephen told Tim, which shut him up effectively. No wonder, when you're told off by a man twice your size and stature that usually does the trick. Also, behind Stephen's scolding words there was the not so subtle subtext that he thought Nina's brother to be a complete wanker.

Inevitably two sets of eyes landed on him. Neither one of the Stewart siblings had expected him to say that and with quite so much vehemence to his tone. Their reactions, though, varied extremely. While Nina beamed at his remark, Tim pulled a sour face. His expression took a serious turn towards moroseness when he noticed how close his sister and Stephen were sitting on the couch and that they were holding hands.

"So...," Nina scooted to the edge of her seat. "How did it happen?" Despite of what had just transpired, both men shot her amused looks. Did she really want a lecture about the facts of life? "Oh, shut up! Of course, I know how. That's not what I wanted to know. I mean why didn't you use protection?"

Tim smile sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. "We did. It just wasn't very effective. Funny thing is it turned out that I kind of washed my trousers with the condom in it."

Nina let out a disbelieving groan. "Timmy..."

"Yeah, I know."

"What are you going to do now? Why did she throw you out anyway?" she asked, managing to suppress her anger in favor of some much needed compassion.

Tim seemed to sense that too because his posture relaxed and his tone of voice grew much less defensive. "I got frustrated with the situation, so instead of talking to her, I started chatting with some friends online."

"Female friends?" Tim confirmed her suspicion with a nod. "And she somehow ended up reading your chat history?" Nina supplied. Tim nodded again, looking down at the carpet with something akin to shame. Unwittingly, his mannerisms catapulted his sister about 15 years back into the past when her obnoxious little brother had still been a child and it had often been up to her to console him whenever he fell and bust open his knee or lost his favorite toy. She was his fix-it person and because she loved him, despite the fact that the years had taken away most of this closeness, she was still willing to act that part in his life. She reached out to grab his hand. His head shot up in surprise. He hadn't expected her to do that.

The baffled look on his face made her smile. "Hey, Tim, it's going to be okay. We're going to see this through. Remember? After all we are a team, you and I," she told him and actually made him smile for the first time since he had walked through the door.

"So you're really going to help me?" He asked sort of desperately.

She nodded. "Of course, you're my baby brother after all..."

"How? I've got no idea how to pull this off...," he said, raking his hand through his blonde hair.

"Well, I don't either," she sighed. "The only thing I know is that now it's too late to cook up a decent battle plan. Let's just sleep on it and tomorrow we'll see what we can do... One thing, though before we call it a night," she interjected before the conversation had the chance to dissolve before her very eyes. It was time to ask a question that had been bugging her ever since they'd started talking and it was about time she asked it. "Have you tried talking to Sandra?"

"There was no talking to her what with all the angry screaming she was doing...," Tim said and made both Nina and Stephen cringe in sympathy.

"So maybe we should start there. You should try to call her tomorrow when she has calmed down and if we're lucky and she agrees, we can maybe drive over to her place and try to fix things," Nina suggested with a shrug. "But," she added in an afterthought, "I definitely think you should not go there empty handed. Flowers, teddy bears, chocolates... pull out all the stops. You're lucky if she takes you back."

"Don't I know it," Tim growled under his breath, which made Nina smirk.

"Well, it's kind of late now. Do you have a place to go?" she asked her brother, hoping and praying deep inside that he would say 'yes'. After all that would buy her and Stephen a couple of hours of alone-time. Of course, no such luck.

"No. Can I crash here?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course, you idiot. My couch is your couch. You know that," she sighed. Did it make her a bad sister that she wanted nothing more than to grab him and shove him out of her apartment? She shook herself, trying to get rid of those egotistical thoughts. Fortunately she managed, to some degree, which enabled her to get out of her seat to give her brother a genuine and heartfelt hug.

Stephen observed the whole scene with a smile. He was quite proud of Nina and how she had managed to keep her temper in check in favor of helping her brother.

Tim let go of his sister and shot Stephen a somewhat suspicious look. "What about him? If I get the couch, where will he be sleeping?"

"Well, where do you think?" Nina put her arms akimbo and stared at her brother pointedly. "You really wanna argue with me about sleeping arrangements after what you just told me, genius?"

"No?" he said and grinned at her sheepishly.

"Thought so," Nina gave him an approving nod.

"Listen, I've got nothing against you, man," Tim decided to address Stephen.

"Yeah, I know. No hard feelings. I get it. I've got two sisters meself," Stephen raised his hands in an appeasing gesture.

"If it helps any, we're surely not going to do the nasty with you next door," Nina tried to calm her brother.

"Nina!" Stephen looked at her in surprise. "I'd never... Not with him around," he spluttered in indignation. It didn't come as a big surprise to her that that was one of the things Stephen was rather traditional and conservative about. Nina had to laugh at the expression on his face and patted his cheek in reassurance. He swatted away her hand with an exasperated eye roll, which didn't manage to hide the affection that was also present in his gaze.

Tim chuckled quietly. "Guys, you have no idea how surreal this whole thing is!"

"Surreal?" Nina asked in surprise.

"Nina, you're dating the Celtic Warrior for crying out loud!" Tim motioned at Stephen who inevitably buffed his chest. Almost out of reflex Nina slapped Stephen's upper arm (a preemptive strike to keep his ego from inflating) and he just shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

"He's the Celtic Warrior? Wow, I had no idea. I thought he was just some Irish guy I bumped into at work. And there I thought he just was on all of those posters because he was cute. I kind of feel silly now. Nobody's ever told me anything about that..." The irony was practically dripping off each of Nina's words.

"Cute?" Stephen repeated with a grin. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. But be careful, Tim's such a fan boy, he'll steal one of your T-shirts while you're fast asleep and have you sign it during breakfast..."

"Please," Tim scoffed, "I'm not that much into wrestling anymore."

"Right," a lot of sarcasm was condensed into that single little word. "I just had to watch every single episode of Raw with you when you were a kid." She turned her head into Stephen's direction, feeling the need to clarify. "Mum didn't allow us to watch, so we had to sneak down to the TV late at night to watch the reruns."

"Really?" Stephen asked in wonder.

"Really," Tim nodded gravely.

"Well, that's a kick in the bollocks, mate," Stephen leaned forward and slapped her brother on the shoulder companionably.

"Sure is," Tim agreed.

Nina sighed. They were already starting to bond. She had a suspicion that once they became friends, her life would become a lot more difficult. Her brother alone was trouble, in combination with Stephen he would be absolute mayhem.

"Okay," she yawned, "I don't know about you two, but I've been awake since six this morning, I kind of need some sleep right now."

Tim gave the couch a speculative look. "Do I at least get a blanket and a pillow?"

"No, you get to sleep on the ground," Nina drawled at Tim and shook her head at his stupid question. "Of course you do, you idiot. Let me quickly get everything ready for you. If you're hungry, which I'm sure you are, because you're always hungry, there's some leftover pizza in the fridge."

"Salami?" Tim called at his sister's retreating back.

"Yeah, Diavola," she called back and disappeared.

"Yum," Tim grinned at Stephen before he disappeared in the kitchen to pillage his sister's fridge.

Stephen stood up from the couch and walked over to the door to pick up his duffle bag and carry it into her bedroom. Last time he had been here, he had just been able to throw in a brief glance. But now he would actually do more than just look at her bedroom. He'd share a bed with her. While that was what he had been fantasizing about for the last two weeks, he hadn't counted on her brother staying at her apartment as well. He was still hovering in front of the door, when she breezed out again, her arms laden with blankets and a pillow.

She almost collided with him. When she noticed the expression on his face, a blend of pensiveness and skepticism, she actually had the nerve to laugh at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Steve."

He still hesitated.

"Get in there!" she followed up that order with a slight nudge of her head in the direction of the door.

He complied. He had just placed his bag on the floor next to the door when she was back.

"Goodnight," she called out in the general direction of the living room and the salute sounded back to them in Tim's deep voice. She closed the door with a satisfied nod.

Suddenly they were alone inside her bedroom and it was sort of awkward. Awkward, because in order to go to bed, they would both need to undress first.

It was by no means the first time he found himself inside a woman's bedroom. What was new about it though, was that they would be sharing the bed without having ever 'shared a bed', which made him more self-conscious about the whole thing.

She laughed and the sound effectively ripped him out of his thoughts. Actually he had a feeling that for once she was laughing at him, not with him. "You know that you prance around in little more than swimming trunks in front of millions of people on a twice weekly basis, right? So who of us should be nervous about taking off his clothes?" Apparently she was not only a writer, but a skilled mind reader.

His indecisiveness, he still hadn't budged an inch, made her roll her eyes and encouraged her to lead him over to the bed. "Sit!" she told him and he complied with a look of surprise on his face. She nudged his knees apart with her legs, so that she could stand between them. Her palms briefly came to rest on top of his chest before they started undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. There was something so intimate and personal about the moment that for once he did not dare speak or make a joke. He just let it happen. The look on her face was difficult to read. She was smiling, but there was something in her eyes that he hadn't seen this up close and personal before. Longing? Her eyes wandered over his pectoral muscles down to his stomach. She licked her lips. Longing - yes, definitely. He was sure that when she looked at his face, she saw it there as well.

Still holding his gaze, she slid her hands down his shoulders and she pushed back his shirt. He got out of the sleeves and placed the shirt on the mattress next to him.

For the second time tonight his fingers grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. It was like they were hypnotized by each other. They held eye contact the whole time, which was only broken for a short moment when the shirt blocked her line of vision. Her chest was rising and falling in short intervals now. The atmosphere in the bedroom was becoming heated despite the fact that they did little more than look at each other.

She gingerly placed on of her hands on his naked chest. "Let's not go near the pants," she said her voice sounding somewhat breathy. "I'm not sure I have that much self-control."

"Come on, you started this," he smirked. "If we're going to torture each other, let's at least do it properly. Or are you scared?"

She grinned back at him. "Scared? I eat boys like you for breakfast!"

"Boys?" He stood up and took a step closer. His fingers untied the knot that held up her sweatpants. His eyes were firmly settled on her face. He saw her look down as if she was waiting for his next move. He slowly pulled those pants down. With surprising gracefulness she stepped out of the trouser legs, first the right one and then the left.

Her face was hard to read, despite the little smirk she was wearing. It didn't have him fooled though. By now he was able to see past her false bravado. Her poker face was a little too well practiced. There was a slight unease to the way she tried to tuck her short hair behind her ear that didn't need tucking back, because it was too short. Still it was hard to tell for him whether standing around in her underwear in front of him made her nervous or not. Only when her trembling and rather cold finger brushed against his sides, he knew for sure. She was very nervous. "Cold!" he sucked in his breath and reached for her hands to warm them between his own.

Nina only smirked. "A real man wouldn't mind if his girlfriend has cold hands or not."

"Those are not cold hands. They are bleedin' icicles," he deadpanned. "And let me assure you, darlin', I'm more than man enough for you."

"Big talk, though guy." Despite the fact that she was nervous like hell, she had to chuckle at his remark. It was probably that brief moment of levity and the challenge his words issued that managed to give her enough courage to reach down to undo the top button of his fly. "Let's check on that, shall we?" She slowly pulled the zipper down. A brief tug at his trousers and they fell down to his ankles. She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch, a sign that his self-control was waning, just like hers.

"So are you happy now that we've managed building up enough sexual frustration to last us for two lifetimes?" she asked him. Her voice was low and breathy to the point of almost sounding sultry. It made all kinds of naughty thoughts pop up in his head and conjured images that were definitely X-rated.

"Take a step back," he told her in a low voice. It was a precaution, because heaven knew what would happen if she continued standing this close. His fingers were itching to touch her and remove those pesky last remaining articles of clothing. He was only barely controlling himself. One more touch from her could be his undoing.

Nina eyes were unfocused. At his words they snapped back to his face. She noticed the way he was looking at her like he wanted to eat her all up. Pure lust. She licked her lips nervously. His eyes inevitably focused on her mouth. If he kissed her now, she would die. Then again she would also die if he didn't. They were standing too close to each other. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his naked torso, close enough to see his pupils dilate and close enough to notice that there were also less subtle and more prominent anatomical signs of his arousal

She finally took a cautious step back, but couldn't tear away her eyes from him. They lingered a bit too long on his muscular torso. He caught her watching and didn't even try to hide his triumphant smile. She quickly looked away. Black boxer briefs, her mind whispered to her.

"I thought your underwear would be green," she said. Mentally she gave herself a slap. "Don't talk about his underwear! You want to deescalate the situation. Not set fire to the fuse." She felt so shy and embarrassed she didn't even dare to glance at this part of his body longer than just a fraction of a second, which was stupid, because deep down she also was flattered. It looked like undressing each other had been as much of a turn on to him as it had been to her.

He surprised her with his laughter. It was a warm and pleasant sound and reassured her in a situation that had left her feeling somewhat self-conscious and insecure.

"Is that why you've been ogling me for the last five minutes? Cause you're surprised me knickers aren't green?" he teased.

"No," she licked her lips. "That's not quite it," she chuckled nervously. It was unfair how he could pull off being self-confident so easily in a moment like that.

"Care to explain?"

"Let's say I'm just finding out how much I'm actually physically attracted to you...," she told him, still staring at his torso.

"Hey, eyes up here, lass," he joked and tilted up her head with his fingers under her chin. She was surprised to look in a pair of blue eyes that were halfway serious, instead of completely mischievous like she had expected.

"So how deep exactly does that attraction run?" he asked her. His voice wasn't teasing. He really wanted to know. The air between them felt heavy with tension. She gulped. Her mouth had run dry.

"Please, don't make me answer that question..." Her voice sounded strained when she said those words.

"Why not?" Now of all times he had to smirk? And a sexy little smirk at that too?

"We don't want this situation to escalate, do we? You know how I have a tendency to let my mouth run away with me..."

"Tell me," he actually beckoned her with his hands to do it, "I can take it."

His cockiness actually got her a little angry. Now angry and turned on, that was a nasty combination. "You want to know how deep that attraction runs? Fine. I'll tell you. I think the last time I've been this horny and frustrated was back when I was a teenager. No, actually it's worse than that, because you standing around like this...," she motioned at his scarcely clad body, "in front of my bed is really unfair. It's like 'Hey, look at all that hunkiness you can't have!' It's so fucking frustrating. Because it makes me realize...," she momentarily stared at the carpet, then raised her eyes again to meet his, "It makes me realize how much I want you."

He moved very quickly. She let out a surprised squeal when roughly 260 pounds of aroused male pinned her to the wall and kissed her senseless. She responded eagerly. Her rational mind waved 'bye-bye' when he playfully bit her shoulder. She let out a soft moan that was muffled in a kiss as he backed her further into the wall until she was sandwiched between the cool stone and his warm muscular chest.

"Oh, God!" she breathed. His hand cupped her breast through her bra while the other one hooked up her leg. His breath tickled her ear. Her heart was racing and her body was shivering in anticipation of what was to come next.

Only that nothing came next. His hands abruptly stopped touching her and he banged his head against the wall behind her repeatedly. A muffled 'aaah' left his mouth followed by an impressive row of curses.

"Steve? Are you okay?" she asked timidly. He shook his head. "But you said you could take it," she said softly, unsure of what to do now. Obviously touching him wasn't a good idea at present. She awkwardly patted his back, trying to keep it platonic with a man she had distinctly non-platonic feelings for.

"I fecking lied," he said gruffly. "Don't go around saying stuff like that to a man with a massive bugle, unless you wanna go all the way!"

"You asked me to tell you, I told you," she said stubbornly.

"Well, what are ya doin' listenin' te me fer? Nobody listens te me! Do ah bloody look like a fella ya should ask fer advice on anythin'?" His Irish accent was more pronounced now, probably because he was aroused and irritated. Also not a good combination.

"You're right. Your advice is pretty stupid. 'Yeah, luv, let's go ahead and turn each other on till we almost can't take it anymore'," she did a little mock imitation of his voice and accent there. "Great, thinking indeed, Farrelly! Now we're on the same page again! Looks like we always end up frustrated and horny as hell when we see each other."

He laughed at her display of temper. She reminded him a lot of himself. Except that she was cute and female and had a deadly pair of knockers. "I don't think it was that bad of an idea. At least we know we're looking into a rosy future, right?" he hooked his finger under her bra strap. He pulled it a little away from her skin and let it snap back.

"Ouch, stop it!" she exclaimed and made a face.

"A particularly rosy one, by the look of your face," he grinned. She automatically touched her cheeks with her hands. They were glowing.

"I hate you!" she announced. In an attempt to hide her blush she turned around abruptly and stormed off towards her walk-in wardrobe, a little something she had inherited from the previous tenant of the apartment, who had obviously been female and a little bit too much into Sex and the City.

"Are you actually pouting?" he called after her.

"No," she growled back as she pulled an old Nirvana T-shirt over her head and quickly and discretely let her bra disappear inside the wardrobe with the grace and prowess of an escapologist. She put on some cotton shorts as well, which disappeared under her loose T-shirt. Clad like that, she returned to the bedroom, still pouting.

"Definitely pouting," he observed with a grin. He even topped up that teasing remark by lifting her T-shirt to check whether she wore any pants underneath. She swatted his greedy hands away with a little growl.

"You're too cheeky, Farrelly. Tone it down a notch!" she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. As she glared at him, she noticed he had regrettably put on a T-shirt, one of his trademark gray ones, and a pair of jersey shorts.

He leaned down, so he looked her straight in the eyes. She was expecting a kiss, an apology, what she got was a cheeky grin and the word "no".

"Oh, you...," the rest of the sentence was muffled by a kiss. He pulled her down to the bed. She landed on top of him. His hands were underneath her T-shirt and roamed over her back. Wait a second. There was something missing. She was completely naked underneath that shirt. His hands came to rest between her shoulder blades.

He broke the kiss to ask the inevitable question. She was lying on his chest, happy to watch him with her chin resting on her hands. She secretly enjoyed seeing that mischievous, slightly mad sparkle in his eyes. It gave her a pleasant thrill, especially that up close.

"No bra?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

"No bra," she confirmed.

"I kinda like that," he smirked triumphantly.

"You like everything that involves me and fewer clothes," she told him matter-of-factly.

"You're wrong. I like everything about you."

Most of the time she managed maintaining her tough chick facade and then he went around and said things like that. Things that were so unexpected and cute they almost made her tear up. It was uncanny how he managed to do that.

She could have kissed him now, instead of finally saying those inevitable words she had already said over the phone and texted him plenty of times, but had never told him face-to-face. But it was about time she finally got it out of her system. The only problem was that was kind of hard. It cost her a lot of courage to actually come out and say it. Because, honestly, how much more vulnerable could you make yourself to someone else than by saying those words? And how long had it been since she let someone this close to her?

She determinedly shoved those doubts and worries back where they belong: into her subconscious. "I love you," she said softly and felt her own heart quicken its pace just as soon as those words had left her mouth.

She could see the immediate impact of her words. The expression on his face changed. The mischievousness disappeared and was replaced by a real smile that made him look much younger than he actually was. What she saw in his eyes was joy and exuberance. At this point his 'I love you' had become redundant, because she had already learned everything she needed to know just by looking at him, but it was still good to actually hear those words. "I love you," he told her and she felt her heart skip a beat.

They kissed impatiently, smiling into their kiss like the idiots in love they were. But they had already tortured each other enough for one night and the amount of resulting sexual frustration was just as much as they could take, so they didn't let this go any further than just a kiss and eventually broke apart.

She snuggled up against his side. The idea of going to sleep in his arms was unusual and strange and yet it somehow felt familiar and just right. They were still lying on top of the comforter, but she didn't mind. Her fingers were tracing lazy patterns on his chest. After a while she let out a content sigh, at which he pulled her even closer and started stroking her hair. Her eyes drifted shut.

"Don't fall asleep yet. Stay with me just a little while longer," she opened her eyes to look directly into his bright blue ones. She smiled and touched his cheek; his face was hovering over hers. He was leaning over her and she quite liked the view.

"You've got quite the romantic streak, too," she said, her voice soft and languid and somewhat sleepy.

He touched his forehead to hers. When he exhaled, she felt his warm breath on her skin. It was nice being this close to him. She felt safe, at home, warm. Her eyes drifted shut again. She felt him lift her up a bit to drag the comforter out from underneath her and then something warm and soft was placed on top of her. A blanket. For a moment she was afraid she would be lying under the blanket alone, but then she was engulfed in his embrace again.

"Night, Steve," was all she managed to mumble before she drifted off to sleep. Some last sensory information managed to get through to her. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head and his soft voice whispered something very close to her ear. "Oíche mhaith, a stór." Whatever that meant, it sounded just wonderful.