Thanks ShazzyZhang for beta reading my fic.

My first attempt in this fandom, all fluffy and nonsense, but aren´t those the most fun to read? Enjoy.

Afterglow

She is sitting on the bed with bare breasts, lighting up a cigarette. He is on the edge, his feet touching the soft rug while his elbows are resting on his thighs, turning the back on her. Her dark eyes are examining the tattoo that covers his back, the feet of crucified Jesus Christ. The air is thick with the smell of their bodies.

They were sitting in the corner of McGinty´s, at their usual table. Rocco was trying to remember a joke he learned the day before, his first attempt failed because he missed out the punch line, or maybe they just did not get it either, as drunk as they already were. That was when she entered the pub.

He remembers that he saw her first, looking up incidentally, noticing the movement of the opening door from the corner of the eye.

She is half covered by the white sheets. The smoke of her cigarette lazily drifts to the ceiling, blue in the dimmed light of the bedside lamp.

He feels the urge of a smoke, too.

She shifts and he realizes the warmth of her body near his skin. She runs a hand up his neck and through his messy hair and holds the cigarette in front of his mouth.

He takes a puff, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs. It burns a little in his throat.

"Strong", he says with a hint of surprise.

"You thought I was smokin´ lights?"

He shrugs.

"Don´t really know a great deal aboutcha, do I?"

She rests her head on his shoulder for a brief moment.

"Guess not."

Then she slips from the bed, pulling the sheet with her so that he only gets a short glimpse of her bottom.

"Murph." Connor pushed him with his elbow. "Yer aren´t listening ter one fuckin´ word we´re sayin´, ain´t that right?"

Murphy forced his attention away from the tall brunette, back to his brother and Rocco.

"I´m listenin´", he lied, taking a sip of Guinness.

"Then who´s the chick you´re stalkin´?" Connor asked. Rocco followed Connors outstretched finger with his eyes.

"Nice", he said under his breath as he saw what the brothers were talking about.

"I ain´t stalkin´ her", Murphy replied. He took the cigarette from behind his ear and lit it up.

"Yer gonna hit on her ternigh´?", Connor asked. He watched his brother closely, with interest but without jealousy.

"What if?"

Connor raised his arms at the sharp reply in joking surrender.

"Should be fine by yer, shouldn´t it? Married bastard that you a´e."

Murphy stood up, ignoring the naughty grin on his brothers face.

"I´m not married just because I have a sex life", Connor replied casually.

"Fuck off", Murphy snarled. Connor and Rocco exchanged looks of astonishment, than broke out laughing.

"I think he really is in need of a good fuck", Rocco said, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh boy." Connor lit up another cigarette, watching his brother as he paces to the bar were the brunette waited for her drink. "I think you´re damn fuckin´ right. Can´t stand this sour mood of the unfucked any longer."

They began giggling again.

She flashes him a glance over her shoulder and he gets aware of the words tattooed on her right shoulder blade. He has not noticed them before because she was lying on her back while he was over her. The memory of it sends pins and needles through his crotch.

She smiles broadly at him and closes the bathroom door behind her.

He stretches out for the pack of cigarettes on her sideboard. Camels.

"Wouldcha mind if I buy yer a drink?", he asked, leaning on the bar right next to her. "Or a couple of ´em?"

She looked up in surprise..

"Already got one", she said with a slight British accent. "Thank you."

Doc approached and placed a Guinness in front of her.

"T-t-t-ter ya health", he said. She smiled at him.

"Aye Doc, mind if yer give me one of those too?"

She clasped her hands around the glass. She wore a pair of blue jeans, Chucks and a simple black shirt.

"This bein´ yer first time in an Irish pub?"

She shook her head, then smirked and he thought that maybe she was not as innocent as he had assumed.

"No sir, it isn´t. I´m well aware of the dangers of being surrounded by drunken Irishmen."

"Hope yer know that being surrounded by sober Irishmen isn't so riskless either?"

Doc handed Murphy the drink.

"Slainté", he said.
"Cheers", she replied. They drank.

"Yer okay in there?"

He lies on the bed, legs stretched out, lighting his second smoke.

"I´m perfectly fine", she says while opening the door. She wears a short, peach colored kimono know, her breast moving in what Murphy finds a very appealing way under the fabric as she approaches. He exhales and she leans over, the tips of her hair tickling on his bare skin. Her lips are soft and warm as she kisses him lightly.

"Love what you´ve done to me before", she says in a low voice. Her cheeks are not blushed any more. He could tell that she has composed herself in the bathroom.

"But I have two rules."

He meets her gaze.

"I´m curiouser and curiouser."

She smiles. He has recognized the words written with black ink under the bend of her left arm saying We´re all mad here. She decides that now it is even more important for him to know the rules, so maybe they could meet again.

She gets her lips near his ear, her hot breath touching his ear cup.

"I make no plans", she whispers, "and I make no breakfast."