The three shall spread their blackened wings…

A/N: I don't own them (though I wish I did) they belong to Troy Duffy...Yadda yadda yadda...

Warnings: If you are on this site, you know what to expect but if you don't read and find out..hahaha!!!

Chapter POV: Faith

Deich Á Ceithir

. Oh God, she thought as she tried to stretch beneath the blanket that had somehow made it’s way to her chin, my muscles are so sore, like I was working out or something. There was a slight cramp in her shoulder near her neck and she reached up to massage it out. Just then a sharp pain ran up her arm as if a nerve was pinched. Faith winched and sighed as she flexed her arm to get the feeling circulating again. She sat up and looked expectantly towards the chair where she last remembered Murphy being.

. It’s empty, she gasped as she frantically searched the room with her eyes. In her one day with Murphy shd red realized that he was quickly becoming one of the best friends that she would ever have. Her eyes finally settled where Conner had been earlier that night and the bed was now filled with a shirtless Murphy. His back was to her, so she crept out of bed and over to Murphy’s sleeping form. She peered over his shoulder and cringed at the sight of his moderately black and blue face. Oh my God, Faith was swept up in an overwhelming feeling of guilt as compassion filled her gaze, I did that to him and he didn’t even complain. She moved away from his bed and looked around the room for something that would help the swelling. Faith made her way to the mini refrigerator and opened it to find almost all of the beer that had been there the night before gone.

. Slightly laughing to herself, Faith looked in the freezer, Irish guys can drink and they must have used all of the ice last night. Scanning the room again she found the spare key to the room and Murphy’s extra pants that she had worn the day before. After slipping them on, Faith tiptoed barefoot out the door and after listening for the quiet click of the lock, she made her way towards the ice machine. She returned not a minute later and slipped back into the room with a filled ice bucket that looked more like an empty ice cream container. Faith sneaked into the bathroom, grabbed one of the thin washcloths, filled it with ice and returned to Murphy’s side.

. Faith, with makeshift ice pack in hand, just stared at the lightly tanned expanse of Murphy’s back. There was a tattoo on his right shoulder blade of two winged demons crawling out of a hole that they had ripped open the flesh of his back and though slightly sinister in design, it said something about Murphy nature. It told her that he had his own demons that he dealt with them the same way that everyone else had to. It proved to her that he was human, just like everyone else; he just lived life with the vengeance of God in his mind, body and soul and the fact was oddly comforting. Faith had this uncanny urge to trace the imbedded ink with her tongue. To taste Murphy’s salty flesh as the muscles of his back flexed beneath her inquisitive mouth. She swallowed hard as her tongue swept across her suddenly dry lips, trying desperately to moisten them.

. Catching her breath and shaking her head to rid the thought, Faith leaned over Murphy a little more in order to get him to wake so he could put the icepack on his bruised eye. She didn’t notice that there was a big drop of ice-cold water that was about to fall from the bottom of the moistened ice filled towel.

. “Murphy,” Faith whispered as the drop precariously drooped further towards Murphy’s naked chest, “Murphy, wake up.”

. The droplet fell and Faith didn’t know what hit her. She had been perched over Murphy’s shoulder one second ago and now she was pinned under his weight with both her wrists held high above her head by one of his hands. Murphy’s other had was fisted, ready to fall across her face if he thought that he was in any sort of danger. The icepack was forgotten as it spilled ice and water across the pillow and Faith only could watch in horror until Murphy’s eyes focused. I hope he doesn’t hit me, Faith thought as she shut her eyes tight as if waiting for the blow that she hopped wouldn’t fall.

. “Jesus fucking Christ, Faith,” Faith heard Murphy exclaim, “are you alright? Did I hurt you? Fuck me. Oh God, I’m so sorry, Faith, so fucking sorry. Did I hit you?”

. Faith’s eyes opened gradually as Murphy let go of her wrists. His hands were flying across her face, checking if her had hit her. He continued swearing to himself as he gently prodded the swell of her cheeks and the curve of her jaw. Faith couldn’t answer him; she was too lost in the delicious feeling of Murphy’s hands on her skin. Her thoughts drifted lower as she could feel the heat radiating off Murphy’s chest through her shirt and the feeling of his hips pressing hers further into the mattress. Mmmm, thought Faith as she focused on the slight brush of his hips as he straddled her, so soft, so strong.

. “Faith, seis cailín, talk to me,” cried Murphy worriedly, brushing the hair out of her eyes and forcing her away from her thoughts. Her cloudy eyes focused on Murphy’s beaten face as a slight blush crept up her cheeks. What am I thinking, she shivered as she swallowed hard, Murphy’s my friend and he saved your life. He’s off limits, Faith, definitely off limits. Even if he is very appealing.

. “I’m alright, Murphy,” she replied, nodding, “really, Murph, you didn’t hurt me.”

. “Thank God,” sighed Murphy, his deep exhales bringing his lips only centimeters from her own and pressing her body deeper into the mattress. His forehead was resting against hers as his turbulent brown eyes closed to get a better grip on his racing heartbeat. It scared him as much as it scared me, maybe even more; Faith thought smiling as Murphy’s rapid but slowing breaths warmed her lips.

. Murphy’s eyes opened as he asked, “What were you trying to do?”

. She blushed and replied, “I was trying to get you an icepack for your eye.”

. Faith watched as Murphy reached up and gingerly felt around the aforementioned eye. His wince sent another wave of guilt rolling through her system, causing her to clear her throat of the lump of apologies that threatened to spill forewords, knowing that in her heart Murphy wouldn’t want to hear them. Misinterpreting her throat clearing, she watched as Murphy’s cheeks became slightly pink as he realized that he had Faith under his weight. Faith giggled a little then sighed softly, already missing the feeling of Murphy’s warmth engulfing her, as he rolled over to his side facing her. He seems to be very embarrassed, observed Faith as she tried searching his discomfited features; best thing is to change the subject.

. “So, Murphy,” she began as his eyes met with hers, “are we doing anything today?”

. He shrugged at the question, “don’t really know yet. Have to wait till Conner gets back and then we’ll figure it out.”

. Faith nodded as he continued, “You know, he got you clothes. Conner doesn’t dislike you, Faith; he’s just a hard ass. The clothes he bought are in the blue bag if you want to change.”

. Nodding again, Faith sat up swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, back to Murphy and toed the threadbare carpet a little before whispering, “Thank you for last night, Murphy. It helped a bit. It doesn’t feel like it’s completely my fault anymore.”

. Without thinking she was back on the bed, wrapping Murphy up in a hug. Faith blatantly buried her face in his broad chest, hands twining lightly around his neck as she inhaled the scent of his skin. I hope he doesn’t mind being touched, prayed Faith, I’d hate to have him push me away. Her fears were banished when, with a little bit of effort but without hesitation, Murphy’s arms came up around her body. She sighed as his hands splayed across the thin t-shirt, gently rubbing.

. “’S ‘alright, seis cailín. Anything you need, just ask,” said Murphy as he placed a light kiss on her forehead.

. Faith pushed all possible thoughts of romance from her mind with an unabashed lie into straight denial; these feelings are all due to the fact that you are hungry. She untangled herself from Murphy with a grin and made her way to the blue bag that Conner had left on the table. Peeking inside she squeaked with delight; it was filled with women’s clothes and it all looked as if it would all fit her fine. She rushed into the bathroom with an armful of clothing, oblivious to the fact that Murphy was looking at her with an amused smirk as he propped himself up against the still damp headboard.

. Once changed, reemerging with eyes down in a black shirt and a pair of jeans, she picked at the curve-hugging ribbed t-shirt stating, “Conner has good taste and how did he know my size?”

. “I have no clue,” came a voice that wasn’t Murphy’s. Faith’s eyes shot up as her heart began to race in fear. The voice belonged to another man and he was sitting at the table, facing her as Murphy’s back was to her. The man had a black mask on and his gun was pointed at Murphy.

. “Come here,” he said without an accent that she could recognize. She slowly made her way over to the chair that the masked man had directed her to sit down in. Her heart was in her throat as her eyes closed of their own accord.

. “Open your eyes,” said the man with the gun and Faith tried to swallow her fear as she inched them open to glare at him with daggers in her eyes.

. “She’s got spunk,” he laughed as he pushed the gun against Faith’s nose, “but spunk won’t save your life.”

. Faith tensed as she heard the gun click.


A/N: Haha....Cliffhanger!!!! Not for long, tho, I'm already halfway done wit the next chapter *wink*. But now I need to study for a final so, GOODBYE!

Gaelic: The only one is Murphy's nickname for Faith
cai cailin = sweet girl