you can never look back

For a moment, she forgets to breathe when Connor looks at her.

This is not how this is supposed to go. And she realizes she's been saying that to herself over and over and over again ever since the MacManus brothers entered her life…ever since Connor entered her heart.

Forget what would've—could've—should've happened in that motel room. The evil they are chasing is bigger than whatever they are feeling.

"Ye sure about this, lass?" he asks her again, his body visibly tensing up under his peacoat as they stand in the dark alley behind the bar.

Elena fluffs her hair, letting it fall carelessly around her face. She rubs her lips together, licking them enough to create a sheen of glossiness over her pout. "You have your big guns, I have mine," she says with a mix of confidence and flirtation.

Murphy chuckles as he pats Connor's shoulder. "Aye, remember? Girl can take care of herself."

She sees the jealousy in Connor's face, the urge to protect her from something that hasn't happened yet. But there's no way their usual Saints-like approach to apprehending a bad guy will work here. She relaxes her shoulders and her voice, "Cops are all the same. Especially the dirty ones. And if there's one thing guaranteed to lower their guard, well…" But Elena hesitates as she watches Connor's jaw tighten, the anger growing in his face much like that night they killed Lombardo. "Connor…"

He shakes his head, his features softening ever so slightly. "Just…be careful, yeah?" his tone is warm, vigilant. And Elena forgets to breathe again.

"Always," she finally exhales. She adjusts her shirt, making sure the low V-neckline cradles her cleavage perfectly. Despite her self-assurance, a sliver of doubt fills her throat, and she raises her eyes to look at the boys. It's been so long since she's dressed more feminine, since she's sought a man's attention.

Murphy smiles, raising his eyebrows yet keeping his gaze from lingering down her body. "Ye look great, lass."

Blushing, she diverts her hopeful eyes to Connor. His mouth falls open as he stares at her, slowly bringing his eyes back to hers. He doesn't need to say anything, it's written all over his face.

Elena bites her lip, swallowing the urge to kiss him as she reviews the plan. "And if I'm not out within half an hour, you two go back to the church." Both MacManus brothers press their lips together, still not entirely in agreement with leaving her behind if things go awry, but they nod in compliance anyway. "Good," she exhales a bit of relief and turns back down the alley to round her way to the entrance of O'Malley's. "Muinín dom."

. . .

"Men are fallible," Smecker reminded her over the payphone a few days before. His words echo in her head as she moves into the bar, and she smiles. The place reeks of spilled beer and cheap aftershave. Several pairs of eyes fall on her, following her body as she leans against the polished wood and orders a Jameson.

She carefully looks around, her face seductive as she scans for the cops from Billy Valencia's list. The bartender sets her Irish whiskey in front of her and announces the amount owed, but as she reaches into her pocket for cash, another man sets an empty glass next to hers. "I got it, Mikey. Just put it on my tab," he says with a wink. "And I'll have what she's having."

The line makes her want to laugh, but she holds her tongue as she thanks him. "You really shouldn't have," she smiles, entirely in character, as she recognizes his face. "My name's Megan." She offers a handshake, but he takes her hand and kisses it like he's some stereotypical knight in shining armor. Hopefully, he doesn't feel her nerves vibrating with disgust under her skin.

She keeps smiling, though, because she has to for all of this to work. The man holds her hand, rubbing his fingers over her knuckles, the touch briefly reminding her of Connor.

"Name's Johnny. Johnny Beck."

Why some men, cops especially, always want to give their full names, she'll never understand. He lets go of her hand to raise his glass, waiting for her to do the same, and they tap their whiskeys together. Elena keeps her eyes on him as she takes a small sip, enough to wet her lips again.

His eyes not so subtly fall to look at her mouth, and he draws his voice out. "So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

She lays the lie on thick. "Oh, my boyfriend just broke up with me, and I had nowhere else to go."

He takes another sip of his drink. "Well, sounds like he's a damn fool. I can help you forget all about him, sweetheart."

Elena flutters her eyelashes. "I already have."

Beck inhales with a smile. "That so?"

"Mmhmm," she hums as she takes another conservative sip of her whiskey, keeping her eyes locked with Beck's brown gaze. He is attractive, she'll give him that, with his '70s-era Robert Redford aesthetic. But her heart is somewhere else, even if she can't admit it. And she has a job to do…for the greater good.

"Is there somewhere where we can talk more…privately?" she drops her tone, leaning in closer and grazing her fingers along his forearm.

"Absolutely," he purrs, taking her hand and leading her to the back of the bar.

They dip into the hallway that runs between the restrooms and the door to the alley. Beck pushes her against the wall and kisses her. But Elena doesn't let his lips linger, as she pulls her mouth away to coax him to her neck. She rubs his shoulders, making all of the motions as if she actually feels lust for this man. But she has to get him outside somehow, so she takes his face and presses her lips against his again, clumsily pushing him toward the back door.

They stumble into the alley, and Elena leads Beck away from the light. She shoves him against the brick wall, kissing him and sliding her hands under his shirt. And in one smooth movement, she breaks the kiss and cocks his off-duty gun at him.

He laughs in the dim glow. "You're making a huge mistake, sweetheart. Holding a New York City Police Officer at gunpoint behind a bar full of cops?"

"I'll take my chances," she smiles back, knowing that Connor and Murphy are now standing behind her as Beck's face falls in defeat. "Let's go somewhere where we can talk…sweetheart."

. . .

"Ye know who we are, yeah?" Murphy asks the crooked cop, shoving him to sit in the chair in the middle of the abandoned building. Their only light source is the constant glow of the city filtering in through the dusty windows, casting a subdued array of colors over everything.

"We know what you did, so we can deliver you right fucking now if we wanted to," Connor threatens cooly.

"Okay, fine. I'll talk," Beck concedes, dropping his shoulders. The twins have their guns pointed at him from both the left and the right, with Elena standing face-on, forming their now signature triangle stance around their hostage as he shakes his head. "I thought Lombardo was just blackmailing me to cover up his drug and sex trafficking rings. But it turned out he was part of this secret organization called Obsidian."

Elena feels her eyes slightly widen. She pulls the paper with the geometric design drawn out from her pocket, holding it for Beck to see. "Is that what this symbol is? For Obsidian?"

He nods. "They had recruited some other cops to join. Sold it as working with the mafia 'for the greater good.' I didn't…" he trails off, dropping his head again almost as if he's holding something back. "I didn't know they're actually angling toward something…bigger. What exactly, I don't know. By the time I realized that, it was too late. They control everything."

Elena, Connor, and Murphy all look at each other with confusion, and maybe a hint of fear. Connor speaks up, asking, "What the hell does that mean?"

Beck doesn't turn his head, but shifts his eyes to the side and takes a deep breath. "It means, they have powerful people working for them, people who can make things disappear from existence."

"Like they work for the government or something?"

He shrugs. "Surely, but I don't know who or how. All I know is one guy I knew, a vice guy from Brooklyn…he was a part of this too, but something happened, and he just…no one knows where he is, if he's dead, nothing."

Elena feels her skin crawl from the vague information, remembering that vice cop who helped prep her all those years ago was from Brooklyn. Hopefully, that's just a really fucked up coincidence.

The thick silence between them breaks when Beck's cell phone rings in Elena's other hand. She holds it up to him so he can see the caller ID, and his eyebrows go up fast. "Shit, it's my lieutenant."

Elena nods slightly, handing him the phone. "Go ahead. Answer it."

"Yeah, boss?" The twins cautiously step around toward Elena, adjusting the angle of their triangle so they can face the cop better. Beck's eyes widen with worry as he listens to his boss on the other end. "Jesus…yeah, yeah I'll be right there." He flips the phone back shut, his eyes darting around as the concern builds on his face, erasing all of the arrogance he had displayed earlier. "Saint Agnes is on fire," he says in a somber tone.

Elena feels her very being hollow out, emptying every last remaining bit of faith she barely hung onto. The church that took in those girls…

The boys' telepathic conversation vibrates around her, but she can't bring herself to move. "Anyone get hurt?" Murphy asks, his voice having softened almost in an instant.

Beck shakes his head. "I don't know yet. Doesn't sound good though." He rubs at his jaw, and looks at Elena. "I'm sorry. I gotta go."

Her eyes unfocus, staring through the cop, only to finally blink when Connor says her name. "Let him go, Elena." She feels Connor's hand carefully take Beck's gun from her. "He won't talk."

"I won't," the cop calmly assures. "I promise."

He moves to stand up, but Elena suddenly shoves him back into the chair. That silent rage fills her lungs again, and she grabs at Beck's shirt collar with both hands. Connor just as quickly hands the cop's gun off to Murphy, wrapping his hands around Elena's upper arms. He tries to pull her back firmly as she leans her glowered face in close to Beck.

"If anything happens to those girls, I will kill you."

"Elena, come on," Connor urges in a low voice.

She feels Connor's hands still holding her, and she releases her grip on Beck, allowing her Irish counterpart to draw her back. Returning the cop's gun, Murphy quietly signals for him to leave, while Connor wraps an arm over Elena's clavicle and pulls her against his chest.

Her heartbeat steadies under his grasp, allowing the anger that had bubbled up inside to slowly dissipate. Connor rests his cheek against her hair and rubs her shoulder in small circles with his thumb.

And for a moment, she remembers to breathe as Connor holds her.