staring down the sun

[22] 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.