"I somehow feel like you are uncomfortable. Is there something you want to tell me?"

This question came out of the blue for the twins, who just stared at their big brother sitting behind the desk, faintly and knowingly smiling at them.

The two shared a look, lying on the couch in Michele's office, legs on the back rest.

"No" they responded in unison. "Not really."

"Well then" Michele said before focusing on the papers in front of him again. It weren't much, just the little information he had gotten about the O'Connel Clan as company and notes for making a contract. Notes on how to make it in his favour without the other spotting it immediately. Or at all, as a matter of fact.

"And what do we do if he says no?" Lorenzo asked and the older one glanced over to them once more, Marco shrugging and raising his hands, palms upwards:

"I mean, what then? We forget Ireland and all, looking for other North Europeans?"

"I think this would be our Plan B" he answered. "Or rather Plan C or D, because I won't take no for an answer when we can still convince them. That no would eventually just mean back to the bargaining table with the others."

"And if that doesn't work out, we forget about it?" Marco asked and Michele sighed with a smile that froze when his brother added:

"About it all?"

Now he frowned at them: "It's still all about O'Connel, am I right?"

They both jerked upwards, legs slipping from the backrest and getting stuck with each other midway, causing Michele to have a quiet laughing fit.

After untangling the two sat up properly and synchronously gave back:

"Yeah, because you are all about O'Connel!"

"And since when is this of your business?" he said cold, making the two cringe.

He put his hand over his mouth, closing his eyes and leaning back, before gesturing with the same hand: "Hey, boys, look – I can't help it that I find him fascinating. But I am honestly curious what your damn huge problem with him is."

They looked away, mouths pressed shut and Michele suddenly felt sorry that he had been so harsh. The Twins might have been adults, but he was still 'their big brother'. "Please just tell me, I want to get this vexed topic solved."

"We just don't" Lorenzo muttered.

"Don't get it, okay?" Marco added quietly in a huff.

The other exhaled heavily picking a few times at the skin on the back of his hand:

"You said that before, please explain it this time, will you?"

Maintaining the sulking child look for a few more seconds, they looked at him:

"You haven't liked that kind of look before" Lorenzo explained.

"You haven't liked that kind of person before, plain rude and arrogant" Marco continued.

"Pardon me, but first of all, maybe I did before I knew you?" Michele answered and both of them cocked an eyebrow.

Lorenzo: "You had a thing for freckled gingers with eyebrows bigger than their freaking fingers?"

Marco: "Or just people who were incredibly hot tempered, stuck up killjoys?"

Both: "What a weird teenage taste in people."

Michele opened his mouth, attempting to interrupt the two, but they couldn't stop:

"Where did you even find gingers down here?" Lorenzo asked and Marco nodded enthusiastically, joining:

"Like, don't people with that kind of skin burn so easily, natural selection sorts them out?"

"Man, I bet the people here make a mint out of all the sun lotion the leprechaun must have bought."

"No wait – what if he gets so freckled that no sunscreen is needed?"

"That must look so ridiculous."

"Yes!"

They both giggled, finally a chance for the older one to pipe in:

"First of all, would you stop being so nasty, you two? Yes, nasty, goddamn nasty" he added after earning eyes widen in surprise as reaction.

"Instead of just taking my answer as one, you make fun of it. If you're not taking me seriously, you don't want to understand."

They muttered out a "scusi", scratching their heads and eyes on the ground.

Michele still looked at them displeased: "Second, it was just an example. I liked a lot of the tourists, of the people I saw that were different, yeah, but that's not important. You know why I really want him? Because he is not a stuck up killjoy." He focused back on the things on the desk: "I know things you don't, just accept it."

And again, silence filled the room. Only the buzz of the flat air conditioner and the rustling of Michele's papers were heard.

"Then, well, what is he?" Marco muttered and he glanced over to them once more.

"We're listening" Lorenzo backed his brother up.

Their big brother sighed, sitting up straight: "And you will take my explanation as it is, even if you don't agree with it?"

"Sí" they replied.

"And won't try to convince me of the contrary? Really, no telling me how 'wrong' I am" he inculcated and they nodded with another "Sí!"

He picked a few times at the back of his hand again before smiling faintly:

"Yes, he hasn't gotten the most beautiful face, especially now he has a tooth gap but it's still cute. I don't know, I think everything just fits where it is, you know? Can't explain it, whatever" he said with a silly grin and a wave of his hand: "I like the way he looks in general, maybe I REALLY do have a thing for gingers and didn't know. And he has really nice, trained arms how I noticed today. So much for the way he looks."

His grin faded: "I talked about the sunshine already, didn't I? He is kind, hell, has he even been really rude in your presence? Yes he is hot tempered, yes he probably doesn't has much patience, but he can be incredibly funny and nice, too, you know? And he isn't heartless, oh my, he seems to care a lot for his sister and his friends."

The twins shared an irritated and mildly alarmed expression, Michele clearing his throat: "This is however just my first impression, I can still be entirely wrong about it. If he turns out not to be Prince Charming, you are free and in the right to tell me 'Told you so.'"

He picked up a fountain pen, turning it between his fingers before removing the cap: "But for now, let me be a lovesick teenager, will you? The feeling is quite nice and I am not wearing that much of rose-coloured glasses that I won't separate him and business."

"Sure?" They asked and he didn't even stop his writing to answer them:

"Very Sure. I won't do anything incredibly stupid just because of an interesting individual I have known for three days."

They exchanged another look, not confident enough to start whispering; Michele would catch them anyways and there was plenty of time to talk about it once they were alone.

The phone rang, Michele grabbing it and checking the number, cocking an eyebrow before answering:

"Pronto?"

The twins couldn't hear who was on the other end of the line – even though when quickly shuffling to the closer end of the couch – but the excited smile on the other's face made them guess who it was.

"My invitation for dinner?"

He started to play with the pen in his other hand: "I am pleased to hear that."

"A date" Marco and Lorenzo whispered at the same time, not exactly looking joyful.

"19.30 sounds fine, I'll send somebody to pick you up. I'm looking forward to tonight, ciao bello" their big brother ended the phone call, a dreamy smile on his face.

With a sigh fitting his expression, he started to write again.

"Lorenzo, Marco, the next hours are going to be a little stressful, I guess."

"Sí" they answered, not exactly sounding joyful.

"Free Dinner? Free Dinner sounds good, I propose you should go!"

Even though it had been a joke, it clearly had not been the reaction Harry had wanted to hear from the older man.

While Harry had been throwing glares, Paddy had chuckled lowly: "Essentially, it's a good idea – to meet and talk about our deal."

"Yes, essentially" he had given back. "Essentially communism was a good idea but look at the execution!"

That had caught both, Paddy and Charlie, kind of guard. Latter had a laughing fit and even the older one had grinned slightly so Harry couldn't do anything but having gotten more annoyed.

"I don't think you can compare a date –" Charlie had started.

"Don't call it date yet" his friend had interrupted and Charlie had given him a judging and unbelieving yet amused frown before having carried on:

"You can't whatever you're about to have with Vento compare with communism." He had grinned: "Don't think he's going to share you with anyone."

"Oh shut the fuck up" Harry had snarled, having been tempted to throw the pillow sitting behind his back at him.

"We still have no idea what happened in the box, but come on Frecky" he had continued with the same grin: "From what you told us – even if it wasn't too detailed – I get the idea that Vento would have fucked you right there on the table two days ago."

The pillow had flown fast in the direction of the bed, having hit Charlie's arms when he had wanted to catch it.

"And boy, a few of the looks that I caught yesterday! That guy isn't going to be 'What is mine is also yours' anytime soon!" he had laughed.

"I'm not 'his', no matter what the bloody outcome of the meeting tonight is!" Harry had snapped and Charlie's eyes had widened before having chuckled shortly:

"Yeah, that was a shit comparison, sorry. Got carried away a bit and stuff."

While he had picked up the pillow, Harry had crossed his arms and had leant back.

"Let's check the list of concerning things though, hm lads?" Paddy had said and sighed, having run a hand into his hair. While having scratched the skin beneath, he had carried on:

"Poisoned Food, being held hostage, being pressured or tricked into signing a contract, being pressured or tricked into other things, getting hurt in general, the English interfering again."

His stare had gotten lost before he had spoken up again: "That's all I can think off on top of my head."

"You're really encouraging me, wow, can't wait to go" Harry had said and Paddy had shifted his eyes to him.

"And now we check on how likely they are to happen.

"Poisoned Food? Possible, a crude and obvious attempt to take you out, but possible."

He had gotten lost again for a few seconds, having looked right through Harry before he actually focused on the younger man again:

"Being held hostage? I don't know why. To be honest, he could let us not leave the hotel if he wanted to, so why bother now.

"Being pressured into signing something, well, possible. I don't know how possible, but you need to be aware of it. If it's done really slyly, I don't know if we could be a help even if we'd be there as well. You can try, you
should try to contact us, though or simply retreat if you can."

"Retreat, you are using big words here old man" Charlie had said with a smile, but the older one had just shrugged:

"It's what you are ought to do in that situation. Get the hell out, but in a coordinated, tactical manner."

"Since when is a dinner a battle?"

"Since our lives are a war."

Paddy had glanced over, grass green eyes unimpressed but Charlie had avoided eye contact anyways, having stared at the ground.

"And we haven't even talked about what happens when he wants to make me do … other things" Harry said.

"We should probably consider this too, but now I am at relative a loss and you have to answer me – How likely is that going to happen?"

Vento would have fucked you right there.

"Well … I can't really get a grasp of it. He does actually seem like a very okay bloke, maybe needs a lesson in how to respect personal space. I could teach him that one."

"So you don't worry much about this?"

I want to go there to figure out if I like him, of course not! If he behaves like a rapist, I will be straight out of the door and off this godforsaken island! But I need to go if want to know!

"Yeah, I am pretty sure this is not top priority to worry about" he had given back. "I can deal with that, if something happens at all."

"Okay then, what were the other points again … "

"Getting hurt, but I think the only thing that could happen is him burning his tongue with Pasta" Charlie had joked and Harry had rolled his eyes, yet having remained silent.

"And then the English. And to be honest, I think that's the biggest threat here. I mean, consider: We know that Vento wanted us to come down here to deal with us, to cooperate. But Kirkland and Co. are just around to get Harry killed – and Vento, and after that it would have been me and you, old man. Vento's intentions are fishy, but they are fishy okay, okay-ish, while Kirkland is crystal clear about why he is here – to put us all six feet underground."

"Nah, would have been rather a sleeping with the fishes in my case" Harry had commented and Charlie had frowned at his friend:

"I beg your pardon, but no matter what we think about Vento, he is still very human. I said his intentions are fishy."

Harry had groaned and leant his head back: "Oh my god Charlie, really."

"Also, I didn't know you slept with the fishes. The kiss was just the afterglow, eh?"

Harry slammed both arms on the armrests of his chair: "I swear to god Charles!"

"I admit, I should stop with the shitty puns. That is your territory after all."

"He got a point, we should really worry about the English the most" Paddy had interrupted. "They are still around, aren't they?"

"Well, don't think they should have left too soon with Van Gogh" had come from Charlie.

The older man had snorted shortly. "Then how do we approach this problem?"

"Maybe we don't need to take care of this. I mean, Vento will, right?" Harry said.

Before one of the others could have said something about it, Harry had ruffled through his hair and continued: "I know, we should still think for ourselves and prepare us too. I just … "

"Maybe we should go home if we are approaching it like this. Here we are playing on a foreign board, on Vento's board, without exactly knowing the rules. And both of the other parties are outnumbering us."

Paddy had looked back and forth between the boys: "Any opposing ideas?"

"We would get home without a solution. Without a good one at least and I guess that the mice already play while we're away" Harry had muttered, fingers having rubbed against the lean of the armchair. Paddy had nodded; the next seconds were spent in silence. "And we would give Kirkland time. Yes, we are the smallest party, but the English bastard messed with Vento as well and that man has home field advantage." Harry had looked upwards: "If I go tonight I could find out what he plans to do with Kirkland. Or try to …. Make them a bit more in our favour. Suggest and convince, that I could try."

"So flight forward? That's your suggestion?" Charlie had asked and Harry had nodded:

"Guess so. Yes. I want to go tonight and get some things in line. I want it to be done."

After a while, both of the younger Irishman had stared at Paddy who had cocked an eyebrow:

"What?"

He had rubbed his chin and exhaled loudly before having answered: "Can't say anything against it. I still can't think of any other risks beside the ones already said and your points are valid as well. If you think going will help us, then we should let you go."

He had sighed once more and had added a bit quieter: "Although I still don't like the thought of you going all alone … Should we really play that ace ..."

"Ace? Paddy what ace?" Harry had asked, having already gotten up but Charlie had smirked and answered before the older one could:

"The ace of hearts, using your incredible sex appeal" Charlie had snorted shortly, "to get us what we want."

Harry's glare just intensified: "It's just a business dinner, not a date, wanker!"

A few hours later, a frustrated moan slipped from his lips and Charlie tried to look into the bathroom: "What's it Frecky? Trying to pluck your eyebrows for once and they ate the tweezers?"

They were alone now, Charlie only in Harry's room to see if he could help his friend get ready for the dinner tonight. Paddy had decided to report a few things about the recent events back to Ireland in the meantime.

"Shut. Up" his friend answered and Charlie laughed while the other came out of the bathroom, hair wet and only wearing a pair of underpants.

"Then why the moan? If you are trying to practice for later, I have to say it didn't sound very sexy."

An "Ouch!" followed when the metal buttons of the jeans Harry had thrown at him hit him in the face.

"I don't know what the fuck to wear, you tosser" he answered before continueing to go through his suitcase.

The other just had gotten the pants of his face when the answer put a confused expression on it instead. And then he cracked up once more.

"Oh my Frecky…" he whispered and the other shot him a glare:

"What, Charles, what."

He smiled, one side of his face rested against his hand:

"And you keep telling me it isn't a date. If it would be only a formal dinner, you'd slap on a suit and that's it."

"It is a formal dinner, just in his house and – Oh who am I kidding here" he muttered the second half and sat down in front of his suitcase: "I am not too sure if it is more of a formal thing or a date. Fuck it, I wouldn't even know what to wear to a date."

"Could you speak up a bit? I think I got something with date but could you repeat it?" Charlie smiled broadly and Harry bristled angrily:

"I don't the fuck know what to wear for Dinner. For christ's sake, it could have 'date' written over it in fat, bloody, blinking neon letters and I wouldn't know what to wear. That it is only partly a date doesn't help at all."

After an oddly quiet time, Charlie spoke up, staring at Harry with eyes wide open:

"Did the proud Frecky just peek out of the closet to say that he doesn't has anything appropriate to wear in there?"

"Yes, I am probably not straight and I don't know what to wear to this business meeting / rendezvous bullshit! Like, can I go anything without stains, do I need a suit, do I need a bloody tie?!"

Harry looked over his shoulder when he heard footsteps. His friend had gotten up and walked over to him, hunkering down behind him and putting his hands on his friends shoulder:

"Then welcome on the MS Queer, if you plan to stay on board you may sort yourself into the bi, pan or gay department, enjoy your test trip" Charlie said with a grin before looking into his suitcase: "You can't go wrong with a shirt and suit trousers for a fancy date. You can also wear a waistcoat and a tie to make it even more formal."

"So I should just go all out?"

"Formal dinner, date, you can never go wrong with a shirt and a nice pair of pants."

Harry sighed before starting to collect the clothes the other mentioned:

"Let's hope you're right…"

"Although it is easier to get you out of those clothes if you are only wearing a T-Shirt and jeans" Charlie whispered.

And had to experience once more how bad trouser buttons could hurt his pretty face.

As the landscape rushed by the train window, Sophie wondered how her route would look like once she had a car. Then she reminded herself that she surely wouldn't be able to pay attention to the outside when she had to focus on the street.

And that brought her to wonder if the people she knew could actually say what a route they had driven a thousand times looked like. Not just what to see while also paying attention to the road, but what she had noticed when she was with them.

Soph was pretty sure she could describe the way to several beaches around Dublin. But maybe she would mix the different beaches up.

Soph frowned when her thoughts drifted away even more, thinking about if her dad had taken her to a beach when she was little and she simply couldn't remember it.

Not that it would matter; she remembered tons of other beach trips with her family.

She scratched her head and leant against the window when something in her chest tightened.

But she let it be, didn't try to distract herself and get rid of the knot inside of her. Instead she revelled in memories, pictures of a day in December years ago playing in front of her eyes.

Both, she and Harry, had been disappointed by the weather, Soph way more than Harry though. It had been a nice winter day, but the long awaited snow had still refused to fall.

"I am going to show you two something" Aaron had said, grabbing both of his kids and his car. And both had asked what their father wanted to show them – again, Soph way more than her brother.

"Just wait princess, will you?"

"Yeah right, calm down Sheep. Wouldn't be a surprise if dad would tell us."

And she remembered how both were disappointed when it was just a beach. Nothing special there.

"Dad, what the fuck? – "

"Harry!"

"You make such a fuss about nothing!"

"You got to be more patient. Hey Sophie, how about we three collect shells?"

And then after some time, it had gotten really cold and windy and Aaron had hiked with them on a cliff next to the beach.

And Soph still remembered how the waves had crashed against the shore, the noise like a thunder and foam having danced on top of the water like clouds. She had never seen the sea being like this before.

Harry had liked to remind her of her first reaction to it; having stared with eyes wide open at her father, she had asked:

"Are there now unicorns coming out like in the movie? Is that why you brought us here dad?"

And Aaron had liked to remind both of them of Harry's response:

"No, but the big red bull is gonna break out of the cliff and gonna eat you alive!" he had growled with a grin, having chased his screaming and laughing sister around the cliff.

How old had she been this day? Seven, eight years old? Something around this.

She felt like crying, but not enough to actually do so. After four years without her father, the tears didn't come so easily anymore, despite the memories of him making that knot appear in her chest.

And even that nasty feeling didn't come every time she remembered; sometimes, she was far too busy about laughing about what happened for crying that it was over.

"I wonder if Harry went to the beach" she muttered to herself while staring out of the window again.

It was a silly thought, considering why her brother was there in first place, but who knew? She didn't. She had no clue how a "work day" looked for her brother. If it would include fun time at the beach, she would be way less worried. And envious if the reason why they didn't tell her that fun times are indeed part of the schedule was to keep her out.

The reason they didn't tell her was to keep her out. Out of trouble and out of pain.

She decided that fun time at the beach was a good thing to do though once they were back. It was summer after all and Ireland's beaches maybe couldn't compete with any beaches down there but it was enough. Enough to swim and sometimes enough to tan. Or to get a sunburn which were two sides of the same coin – while Charlie and Paddy would get tan, Harry and Soph would resemble a lobster in the same amount of time. She honestly couldn't remember having any other skin colour than bright red or extremely pale. The only thing the sun could manage beside burning the O'Connels was making even more freckles appear.

In conclusion, Soph didn't like the sun very much. All it ever did was making her skin weird.

But she still liked nice beach weather and swimming in the ocean and being sent flying by Paddy when he threw her into the water, she liked building sandcastles and trying to bury Charlie with her brother, and she liked just sitting under a parasol, reading a book.

She would definitely make them all go to the beach once they were back.

When or if?

"So you're going to come home tomorrow."

"Yeah, don't worry, it'll be just some more formal crap, nothing bad."

"… Then can't you do the formal crap at home?"

"Because I have to do it

now. It's just formal crap, nothing you should lose your head about."

And she would wait for them at the airport tomorrow.

Only thinking about seeing them again made her beam, if there weren't those nasty thoughts again.

If they even come home.

Frustrated with those little, unwanted, pessimistic visitors, she got her phone out. She still had one hour left before the train arrived in Dublin. An hour that was likely better spent with failing at every single game she had on her phone.

All you do is lying anyways. You'll see tomorrow at the airport when they all are back home, safe and sound!