-1A/N: Thank you readers for staying with me through 22 chapters and almost no porn at all… well, except that one chapter with the dream. Anyway, hope you enjoy this one and will find it in your heart to continue to stick with me.

Hugs from the Uncanny Sithy

"Kiss me, Murphy," Fey whispered softly, her face barely visible in the soft moonlight filtering in through the office's window.

Murphy was more than happy to oblige, fingers of his right hand buried in her silky dark hair while the fingers of his left smoothed up her spine beneath her blouse. He sat below her on the office's couch as she straddled his lap. The air in the darkness was cool, but he knew it wasn't the slight chill that caused the goosebumps across his skin. Fey's lips parted beneath his and he took it as an invitation to gently snake his tongue between them. She seemed just as eager to touch and taste him, tilting her head to deepen their kiss as she tugged at his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, Murphy pulled back and allowed Fey to peel the article of clothing off his chest. Before he could kiss her again, her lips latched onto his collarbone, sucking kisses and licks moving across his skin. He groaned gently as her soft tongue traced up the side of his neck. Her hips bucked against him a bit and he grabbed them to hold them close to his. The way she wiggled and squirmed in his lap made his eyes roll back as he hissed in pleasure, the friction causing an unbelievable amount of constriction in his jeans. When her teeth took to gently nibbling the soft skin of his ear, Murphy was sure he was losing his mind.

Fey's hands slid down his chest before she leaned away from him. A moment of confusion crossed Murphy's mind before he realized she was starting to unbutton her shirt. His hands slid up her stomach and over her breasts before replacing hers in their mission. His lips found her neck and she pressed sweet, soft kisses to his cheek even as he tried to de-clothe her.

"Careful, Murphy," she giggled huskily against his ear, making him sigh against her skin. "This is my favorite blouse. Try not to tear it."

"It'll be hard not ta," was his throaty response, his tongue tracing her collarbone as his fingers continued unbuttoning.

She pressed her hips harder against him, making him gasp and moan against her skin. "Not the only thing that's hard, Murphy."

"Why ye cheeky…" he began to snicker, but she pressed her lips hard against his, a moan slipping from her throat when he finally finished and brushed the blouse from her shoulders. His hands found their way to kneading her breasts even as he pulled away from the kiss to look at her. The sight of her skin glowing in the pale light, her partially lidded eyes that stared at him, the soft smile on her full lips; it all took Murphy's breath away, made his chest ache.

"Ye're so beautiful, Fey," he muttered, cupping her face in his hands almost reverently and pulling her down to kiss her lips gently. "Christ, ye're so fuckin' beautiful."

A soft moan tumbled from her lips as Murphy slid his tongue down her neck, adding sloppy kisses along the way, his hand inching up her thigh and pulling the skirt up along with it. Fey arched her back causing more friction where their hips met and her fingers gripped Murphy's shoulders as he nibbled just above her bra.

"Can I touch ye, Fey," he practically pleaded against her skin, his thumb brushing circles across her inner thigh. "Please, let me touch ye."

Though his hands had been almost everywhere else on her body, his fingers - and obvious other parts of him- ached for more. He wanted to touch her in just the right spot to make her go wild with desire, to make her want him as much as he wanted her. Glancing up at her, Murphy saw her biting her lower lip nervously as she looked into his eyes. Fey began to tremble against him, looking almost frightened. He was about to pull his hand away from her when he saw her nod slowly, leaning down to brush her lips over his softly.

"Yes, Murphy," she replied in a quivering whisper. "Please, please."

The way she kissed him them was almost maddening, tender and urgent at once. Fey's sweet taste filling his mouth left him light-headed as he held the back of her neck and slowly began to raise his hand up her thigh.

His fingers had just grazed over the delicate fabric of her undergarments when there was a sudden bang at the window beside them. Both jumped, startled by the loud noise, freezing their motions. They glanced at each other, gazes questioning and determined, before Fey slid off Murphy's lap to stand. Murphy was on his feet a second later when another bang rattled the window. There was no change in the thumping of bass out in the club, so apparently the noise hadn't been heard by anyone else. Fey was over at the window before Murphy had a chance to tell her to let him check it out. Murphy watched, wholly impressed, as she flattened her back against the wall beside the window and slowly pulled the curtain away, just enough to let her see outside into the back alley.

A second later, she let the curtain fall back, her face twisted in anger as her eyes met Murphy's. Then she whispered harshly "That mother fucker!"

"What is it," Murphy asked, walking over to peak out the window. He saw a man and a teenager standing outside, leaning against an old beat-up Pontiac. There was another car in that back alley, a black sedan that looked too ritzy for the neighborhood. Murphy squinted his eyes to try to see better and realized the man looked awful familiar. It took him a second to remember him as one of the men he'd seen at McGurk's the night he met Fey, one of the goons that had been following that creep Valenti around. He watched as the guy passed something off to the teenager before the teen got into the Pontiac and started to pull away.

"That was Richie Mineo," Fey informed hotly from behind him. Murphy turned to find her buttoning her blouse back up. "That's the bastard that had Antoine selling crack on the street corner. And that kid, that was Jamal who lives not three blocks from here and comes into my library with his little sister every other week."

Murphy could hear the agitation dripping from her voice as she wrapped her hair in a ponytail. He walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at his face. "Fey, love, calm down. Unless ye plan on goin' ta the cops right now, there's nothin' ye can do."

It seemed anger flared in Fey's eyes for a split second before she nodded in defeat. "I guess you're right. But fuck, Murphy. I'm so sick and tired of seeing my-- the kids from the neighborhoods being sucked into this. Fucking Valenti keeps getting his claws into everything and everyone. Ties to the mob, fueling gang violence, kids OD'ing in the streets. It's just… just…"

By this time, frustrated, sobless tears began to trickle down her cheeks. They glistened in the moonlight from the window and Murphy felt compelled to hold her cheeks in his hands and wipe her sweet face dry. He kissed her lips softly, then her forehead before pulling her into a tight embrace, the top of her head tucked beneath his chin.

"I know it's terrible, sweetheart," he soothed gently. "But I promise ye, it'll get better. Ye have me word."

She pulled away from him, her eyes darting over his face quickly before giving him a forlorn look. "It's sweet of you, but you can't promise me something like that, Murphy. It takes a lot more than wishful thinking to change things."

Right then, he wanted to tell her more than ever that he and his brother were the Saints. He wanted her to know that it was their mission, their divine Calling, to take care of the evil in the world. Something about the way she spoke screamed out at him that she would understand, maybe even welcome it. Something said she needed to know there was still hope in the world.

"Connor and Laura are probably worried about us," she said quietly, bending to pick his shirt up from the floor. "We should get back to them."

Murphy took the shirt and slipped it on over his head. Fey smirked at him when he shook his hair out. She started turning away, but before she got too far, Murphy gently grabbed her chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to him. His eyes scanned her face quickly before he pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss.

"It's a good thing somethin' keeps stoppin' us, Fey," he chuckled a little. "'Cause one time, I may start kissin' ye an' never be able ta pull me lips from ye."

Fey giggled sweetly, making his heart flutter. "Well, I guess that wouldn't be half bad. Like I've told you before, you're a pretty good kisser, Irishman. And I'll probably have the hickies to prove it tomorrow."

A grin spread across Murphy's face as she took his hand once more, only this time she led him back to the rest of the club. They found Connor and Laura rather quickly, the two of them having made their way over to The Dutchman. Fey said he was earlier than usual, and Murphy figured it was because he knew the four of them would be there. They converged at the bar, Connor and Laura greeting them with raised drinks.

"Fey, Murphy," The Dutchman chuckled. "What were you two doing back there?"

"I was giving Murphy a tour," Fey smirked before Murphy had a chance to stutter a response.

The Dutchman's knowing look was not reassuring to their little cover up. "Ah, I see. And did you like what you found?"

It was just a cheeky enough situation, plus Connor was grinning like a fool because brothers always know, that Murphy couldn't help but chuckle. "Aye, ye could say that."

Fey raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she gave him a gentle smile, sending a shiver up his spine again. Then, her face lost its amusement as she turned to the Dutchman and Laura. "Can I talk to you guys alone for a minute?"

"Excuse us, gentlemen," Michael nodded with a smile. "Please, enjoy drinks on the house."

"Ye should never say tha' ta an Irishman," Connor chuckled, Murphy joining in.

"Friends of Fey and Laura are friends of mine, and my friends drink free," the Dutchman patted his shoulder before walking off a ways with the girls.

The brothers both ordered another Guinness each, Murphy spinning in his stool to look over where the other three were. They were standing in a sort of triangle, all facing each other as Fey's hands and fingers motioned furiously, her brows furrowed in anger. Tapping Connor's shoulder, Murphy motioned for him to turn around to see what was going on.

"Ye see tha', Conn," he asked. 'They're movin' their hands 'round like they're crazy."

"So they talk with their hands," Connor shrugged, sipping his pint. "It's nothin' all that fascinatin', Murph."

The darker twin nodded, but something still didn't set right with him. He was even more unsettled when Michael gave both girls a nod and started walking back toward the bar. But the girls weren't following. They started walking through the crowd toward the back, shoulder to shoulder with a fierce determination. Murphy stood as if to follow, his curiosity wanting to take hold of him. Yet, Fey turned her head in his direction, their eyes locking for a moment. Her expression was uncommonly cold, making him stop dead in his tracks. Then they had both disappeared.

"Where're the girls goin'," the lighter twin asked when The Dutchman had joined them at the bar.

"I do apologize, gentlemen," Michael replied. "The ladies were called away to check in on Mr. Haloran at the hospital. They said you should continue to enjoy yourselves while they're away and that they will meet you back at the apartment later this evening."

"Was it an emergency," Murphy sounded somewhat worried.

Michael gave a reassuring smile. "Everything seems to be alright. Mrs. Haloran just needed someone to sit with her."

"Right kind a them ta keep 'er company," Connor mused with a grin, raising his glass in a toast. "Ta Fey an' Laura."

"Ta Fey an' Laura," Murphy repeated, lifting his pint as well before both took deep drinks of the dark beer.

Michael patted them each fondly on the shoulder. "I must be going now, friends. There is some club business to take care of. Please, enjoy yourselves."

"Thank ye," both twins replied simultaneously as they nodded their appreciation..

The Dutchman went off to the offices, leaving Murphy and Connor to themselves despite all the people surrounding them at the bar. The darker twin's eyes scanned the crowd as Michael left. His jaw set harshly when he caught sight of the man he had seen through the back window, handing drugs to a young man in the alley behind the club.

"Conn," he hissed in a low tone. "We've got somethin' we need ta take care a."

A/N: Okay, hope you enjoyed this chappy. I'm on to a few more one-shots that have been piling up. Hugs -Sithy