The Crates

[Banshee O'Hara]

Despite what his nickname might suggest, Banshee had never believed in the fairy stories and legends that seemed to define his country. The nuns that had raised him and many more like him in the orphanage were too intent on beating religion into them to be bothered with telling them bedtime stories of magic and leprechauns. By the time Banshee had made his escape into the world and began picking up bits and pieces of the romantic, whimsical myths that so many of his countrymen had been steeped in since birth, he had long since lost the wide eyed innocence and childish wonder that would allow such notions to take root and grow.

Or so he had thought until he rounded the last corner of the crate maze and emerged onto the open boardwalk that made up the Brooklyn docks. Shannon Murphy might have been soaked to the skin, and some might even say she looked bedraggled, but to Banshee, she was the embodiment of every fragmented legend and long forgotten myth, and his breath caught at the sight of her. She spun, arms outstretched, with her face tilted towards the weeping heavens. Her clothes were heavy with rain and clung to her body as she whirled, her feet working an intricate pattern on the boards beneath them. In that moment, Banshee knew there was magic just as sure as he knew he was breathing, and the look on his face was something akin to awe as he approached the swaying girl before him.

Romantic visions aside, Banshee was still aware of the damp chill of the rain and the swiftly approaching storm and though his mind near burst with a thousand praises he wanted to bestow on her, years of practicality were against him as he reached her side. “Sweet Mother Mary…. What in the bloody hell are ya doin’, then, love?” he questioned, his tone a bit gruffer than he’d meant, though softened slightly by the smile that teased his lips.

[Shannon Murphy]

Shannon had always delighted in the rain, found it cleansing in a way, and when the moment was right she had been known to walk or dance in it as she was now. Rain could make everything feel new, even here in the city that held dirt and grime in ways that Shannon had never seen, would smell fresh and clean in the moments after the storm swept away. The streets would be quiet and for just a few scant moments the world would be something close to perfection. It was why Shannon embraced it as it fell, relished in the freedom it offered, the sort that she wasn't sure she could explain to another soul, if she would really be able to find the words.

She was well aware of how it must look to someone, dancing along the dock as sheets of rain fell from the sky, a chill in the air and clouds from above indicating that the storm would get worse before it got better. Which was why she understood the look in Banshee's eyes when he spoke, words clipped and concerned, and she stilled her movements to turn and look at him. He looked roguishly handsome even through sheets of rain and Shannon couldn't deny that there was a tugging in her gut at the look of him, something alluring and almost forbidden, that appealed to her very soul. "Banshee, ach laddie, but ye are a sight," She said, smiling up at him even as she was certain that perhaps he might think her half out of her mind to find her as he had.

"What am I doin'?" Shannon said, feeling a smile crawling across her face as she looked at him, not concerned with the rain that continued to fall from above. "I'm dancin'!" She lifted her arms and did a little spin, looking back over at him expectantly to find him merely watching, that look of concern still on his face. Shaking her head, Shannon lifted a hand to wipe some of the water out of her eyes and push unruly auburn curls now plastered to her forehead out of the way.

"Ye said a walk in the rain did the trick to be clearin' yer head. But have ye ever danced in the rain, Banshee?" Leaning forward she grabbed his hand and tugged on it gently, pulling him closer until she could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating through his now drenched clothes. "There is magic in it," She said with a smile, guiding his hand to her waist and smiling up at him even as the rain continued to fall. "Dance with me, Banshee."

[Banshee O'Hara]

“I’m a sight, am I, Shannon?” he asked as he chuckled a little with a shake of his head. “You’re quite the vision yourself, love, an’ that’s the truth…..” There was no denying she made a stunning picture every time the lightning flashed enough to illuminate her, the rain darkening her auburn waves even as it plastered them to her head, forming a sleek frame for her eyes that, while blue like his own, were a darker, stormier blue that reminded him of an unsettled ocean. But for all that, it was chilly and only getting chillier the closer the storm crept, and he couldn’t help the slight hint of concern that shadowed his gaze as he would rather that she were inside somewhere warm and dry.

The smile that moved over her lips was almost girlish and the innocence of both it and the action causing it tugged at his heart as she spun away from him before turning to look at him expectantly. The wanting of her was almost painful as he continued to watch her, though not in the way he was used to. This time, it was as if his very soul was doing the wanting, and for a split second, the concern in his eyes was for himself as he realized just how far past his walls Shannon had managed to slip. Swallowing against the tiny knot of fear that was forming in his throat, he nodded a little as he forced a smile onto his lips. “Sure, I can see that you’re dancin’, love, I just meant…..” he trailed off as he realized it didn’t matter what she was doing nor why, only that she was, and he wondered if maybe there wasn’t some truth to fate after all, as it didn’t feel like mere chance or accident that had placed her in his path unexpectedly yet again.

And in his path she was, as to say she were merely crossing it would suggest a momentary meeting and subsequent parting that every bit of him protested as he admitted that his own path was no longer relevant to him and he found himself wanting to merge with hers and forge a new one. The fact that she might not want the same tugged at the corners of his mind and he hoped that the fates he had so newly acknowledged would not be so cruel as to use her as a means to torment him for his scoffing at them in the past. Her hand strayed up to brush the water from her eyes and the hair from her forehead, the action almost an invitation of sorts, and one that he was quick to take as he searched her expectant expression for some trace of guile that might warn him away. Most of his fears quieted somewhat upon finding nothing but warmth and sincerity in her rain soaked gaze and the smile on his lips no longer felt forced as he gazed down at her.

Her question caught him off guard, though not nearly as much as her actions. “I have no’,” he replied cautiously even as her hand grasped his and he allowed her to tug him closer. The longing to be near her was overwhelming and if dancing somewhat foolishly in a cold spring rain was what it took, he was more than willing to lay both pride and common sense aside for the chance to do so. The instant warmth he felt as their bodies brushed ever so lightly had him nodding at her words as he curled his hand around her waist. The intimacy he felt with her was so much more than the night at the pub when he had held her in a similar embrace and he had no doubt that magic played a part in it despite everything his rational mind was trying to tell him. In fact, he was beginning to suspect that rationality had no place in any of his dealings with Shannon and though he felt the realization should have brought his fears screaming back to life, the reality was that his fears were no longer significant.

The feeling of liberation that followed close on the heels of his musings left Banshee with a sense of peace, and he smiled down at her as he tightened his arms and began moving with her in a slow waltz that seemed to need no music to keep them in sync. The rain no longer seemed to matter, and the chill in the air was vanquished by the warmth of the moment as he spun her out lightly before pulling her back even closer than before. If there was a lack of propriety in his actions, it wasn’t intentional, though in truth, what he felt seemed to transcend the constraints of propriety altogether and to continue to adhere to formalities held little appeal as he gave himself up to the inevitability of the feelings that had been set into motion upon their first meeting.

[Shannon Murphy]

There was a question in his eyes when she first insisted he dance with her, when she pulled his hand to her waist and stepped a bit closer - but by the time he began moving them in the slow, smooth steps of a waltz it seemed to have eased. She almost felt him relax a bit and she searched his face for the reason why as they moved along the dock in a dance like no other she might have experienced. From this close she could see the lines of his handsome face more clearly, not needing the aid of the bright flashes of lightening to see the intensity in his eyes or follow the curve of his lips with her gaze.

Shannon couldn't help but laugh when he spun her away from him, embracing the freedom and lightness in the moment. And then felt her breath catch in her throat as he pulled her back, closer than he had been holding her before and Shannon felt her heart skip a beat or two. It was a rare sort of feeling, in fact she couldn't be sure that she had ever experienced it before. Sure there had been the lad or two that might have made her heart race, with their bonny words and charming smiles - but never had there been one that made her stomach feel as though it were fluttering and her heart like it might burst. And that's just what Banshee had accomplished with his silver tongue, soft blue eyes and hints at romantic notions that were layered beneath them both.

She was more aware of him than she ever had been before: the heat of his hand at the small of her back as he pulled her closer, the strength she could feel in his arm as her hand drifted up to rest on his shoulder and the look in his eyes as his gaze caught hers. The rain had fallen away now, a distant memory even as it touched and slid over her skin, hair and clothes, all of it forgotten in the light of Banshee's eyes and the warm circle of his arms. Her fingers curled into the wet folds of his coat, lost to the moment as she was and knowing that was no place that she'd rather be then here in this moment - with him.

"Ach, Banshee..." She said softly, his name both a curse and a prayer as she felt something inside of her that she wasn't able to define. Something taking hold that Shannon knew was important and vital and real - and it had everything to do with the man whose arms were around her and whose eyes she couldn't look away from. Somehow she drifted closer to him as they continued to dance, drawn to the warmth of his body and she caught her lip between her teeth for the briefest moment as she looked up at him wondering - and perhaps hoping that she wasn't mistaking what she thought she saw in the blue depths of his eyes.

[Banshee O'Hara]

The way his name left her lips had Banshee wondering if she looked to him for salvation, or if dragging her with him to damnation was what she feared, and he wished he could say with certainty that it was the former. But he himself had given up hoping for salvation long ago, if he’d ever entertained the hope at all, and he had a feeling that loving Shannon might end up being as close to heaven as he’d ever get. Like any doomed man faced with the possibility of redemption, he knew he would be a fool to pass up what it seemed she was offering as she gazed up at him, her stormy blue eyes wide and searching. Hoping he was reading her right and too far gone to care if he wasn’t, he lowered his head, his gaze steady and not leaving hers even as their lips brushed.

The bright flash of lightening and immediate crash of thunder made them both jump, and Banshee swore softly as the sky let loose with a pounding torrent of rain. He pulled back slightly and his eyes held a mixture of regret and promise as he held her gaze for a long moment. With another soft curse, he broke his gaze and wiped the water from his eyes before scanning the area. He still held her tightly, sheltering her the best he could, and his gaze locked on a warehouse at the far end of the dock. It was one he had broken into and slept in the few times he hadn’t been able to come up with the money for a bunk, and he knew that it was rarely used. “Ya like dancin’ in the bloody rain so much, how d’ya feel about runnin’ in it, love?” he asked, flashing her a reckless grin as he reached for her hand.

[Shannon Murphy]

Their movement had ceased with the intensity of their gaze, Shannon knowing that they were caught up in some moment that she was far from wanting to run away from. There was a firmness in his hold in her, a certainty in his eyes that sent her hopes soaring and even as they lingered locked in that gaze, Shannon felt something shift inside of her. Then Banshee's head was lowering and Shannon felt her eyes drift shut, the barest touch of his lips enough to send wanting shivers down her spine. And it was at precisely that moment that Mother Nature decided to have a say, a bright flash of lightening followed immediately by a close rumble of thunder that had Shannon jumping unintentionally away from Banshee.

She saw his lips form a curse, though the sound of it was lost in the now pouring sheets of rain, the earlier lighter rainfall giving way to a pounding and beating sort that announced the threatening storm had fully arrived. Shannon saw that regret and promise in his eyes, knew that her eyes held much the same because moments before all her questions about how he might feel had been answered. The calling in her heart, that feeling deep in her gut that Shannon had long ago learned not to ignore were telling her that there were the answers in Banshee O'Hara - she'd be a fool to turn away and as she had noted to him before, a fool she was not.

But there would be time enough for examination later, as the rain was now falling at a rate that she could barely see the dock around them, flashing and rumbling all around them and she turned her face into Banshee's shoulder as he did his best to shield her from the downpour. "It is right up on me list of things to do in the rain," She shouted back at him, to be heard over the latest rumble of thunder, grinning up at him as he took her hand. Together they made a mad dash for the warehouse, stumbling into the confines of the battered walls and ceiling and out of the drenching mess that raged outside. "I think I like our dancin' better," Shannon said glancing over at him even as her fingers tightened on his, her voice sounding small in the large expanse of the building that stretched out around them. I liked our dancin' best, Shannon thought as her eyes found his once again.

[Banshee O'Hara]

“Glad t’ hear it, Shan,” Banshee laughed, as her hand gripped his. The feeling of annoyance at the storm had vanished, momentarily, as the lightening flashed again, so close that the electricity seemed to almost crackle in the air, and there was a heady rush that came with it. The wind had whipped up as well, blowing his rain soaked hair into his eyes and he gave his head a shake to clear them as he waited for her to sort out her long heavy skirt so as not to trip on it. A glance from her told him she was ready, and he tightened his grip just a little as they made a mad dash for the shelter of the building. It occurred to him, as they hit the halfway point, that their effort was pointless, as they were both already as wet as they could possibly get, but there was something almost exciting about the wild run with the rain pounding and the thunder crashing all around.

Moments later, they burst into the warehouse, sliding to a halt just inside the door as they tried to catch their breath. Though it was a little quieter, the thunder still echoed off the walls in the large, open building, and the rain on the roof sounded like a million drums. As the lightening flashed again, Banshee glanced around the momentarily illuminated area, glad to see that, at least at immediate glance, they were alone. Still panting slightly, he peered into the dark, waiting for another flash so that he could double check a path further into the building, as the first glance had revealed several crates lying around. He felt her tighten her fingers, and he squeezed her hand in answer as he chuckled at her declaration. “Did ya now? Better than a mad dash down a slippery boardwalk with a wild Irishman?” he teased, turning towards her.

The flash of lightening he had been waiting on revealed her features, and the chuckle died in his throat as he caught the look in her eyes. Though he only had the sight of them for the briefest few seconds, the feelings he had read in that short time were strong enough that he felt he could see them even in the dark, or perhaps it was his own mirrored feelings causing a stir in him. Turning fully towards her, he kept her hand in his as he rested his other hand on her shoulder, taking a few steps forward and backing her up until she reached the wall with nowhere to go. Only then did he let go of her hand, giving her a split second to duck away if she chose, before placing his hands against the wall on either side of her head and fencing her in. “Shannon…” he murmured, her name a ragged plea on his lips as he lowered them to hers, his tone daring God and man alike to interrupt a second time what had begun outside in the rain. The hard lines of his body pressed against her in a silent appeal to anchor him, as his soul felt as near to drowning as he, himself had moments earlier in the torrential deluge.

[Shannon Murphy]

"It's the wild Irishman I'm fond of," Shannon breathed out, not knowing if he could even hear her over the sound of the rain high up on the roof and the rolls of thunder that were now coming in close succession. She didn't suppose it mattered much, because he was looking down at her with an intensity that mirrored his gaze before - with purpose and intent and feeling that almost left Shannon breathless. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his as he slowly backed her against the wall, the pressure of his hand on her shoulder and the one still grasping her fingers like a guide that she dare not rip away from. When he released she knew that he was giving her an out should she want it, a chance to spurn the intent and desire she could see marked so clearly in his eyes when the lightening flashed in through a broken window. She would just as soon give up breathing than spurn the advances of Banshee O'Hara - which was why as he moved closer she felt her breath catch and she tilted her head towards him in invitation as he caged her in.

Her name was a breathy, ragged thing that slipped out of his mouth and she caught the sound of it as his lips brushed against hers, this time more assuredly and certain than they had managed outside. Feeling swirled and danced inside of her as his body pressed against her and she could do little more than gasp into his mouth. Shannon's arm slid around his middle, anchoring him against her as her other hand slid up to cup the side of his face as she opened to him. His lips were like a revelation; by turns demanding and gentle, pouring an emotion into this one action like it was all he had lived for and Shannon couldn't help but return it.

The arm around his middle tightened, fingers turning to curl into wet clothing and finding herself needing the solidness of his body to remain standing. The hand at his cheek slipped further up, fingers sliding into the wet strands of his hair and finding purchase as she responded to his kiss, embracing the moment until she was certain she might never be the same again. It was the need for exhaustion that finally had her pulling away, pressing her forehead against his shoulder for a moment as she tried to calm and right her reeling senses. "Ach Banshee..." She whispered, uncertain of what it was that she felt but knowing he was at the center of it and she didn't want to let it or him go.

Lifting her head, she found his face so very close to her own, having not moved from their positions except for the parting of their lips. She could see the strong line of his jaw, outlined every time lightening cut across the sky, and the curve of his lips that she now knew and wished to taste again. Perhaps it was a bit of madness, a touch of magic that had led them to one another - Shannon didn't really care for the reasons, just that it had happened at all. "Been wantin' ye to do that laddie," She admitted finally, combing her fingers through his hair and letting her hand fall to his shoulder as she felt herself growing a bit steadier.

[Banshee O'Hara]

Banshee had kissed many lasses in his life. To say he was merely kissing Shannon Murphy would insinuate that there was no more involved this time than the countless other times he had found himself in the embrace of a willing lass and nothing could be further from the truth. The moment she opened to him, it was as if every abandoned hope and long forgotten dream had not been abandoned or forgotten at all, but merely lay dormant, awaiting nothing more than the key that would unlock all the promises they once held. Shannon was that key, and as her arm curled around him and her hand caressed his cheek, he realized she was the promise as well. Banshee had no defense against the nameless emotions that swept through him unchecked as the last of his walls crumbled in the face of what she offered.

Her fingers slid into his hair, and Banshee deepened the kiss, urged on by the gentle pressure as they tangled in the rain soaked strands. Off balance and scattered, he leaned into her, grateful for the welcome tightening of her arm that seemed to be the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely as everything he thought he knew shifted and reformed within him. His hands trembled against the wall with the effort it took to keep them off her, but he knew if he didn’t, he would be lost entirely and he wanted so much more with her than a frantic moment of desire.

Banshee was almost relieved when she broke the kiss, for though he knew they both needed a chance to regroup, he didn’t have the willpower to pull away himself. He took several deep, steadying breaths as he gazed down at the lass whose head now rested against his shoulder. “I know, love…” he murmured, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over the storm outside. The chaos that had raged within him was starting to calm and the notion that was rising out of the aftermath was almost just as alarming in its certainty. He was unwilling to call it love, as what little he had known of the word in his life seemed cheap and tawdry compared to the depth of what he felt for her, but regardless of whatever he chose to call it, the feeling was no less real for the lack of a label.

He met her gaze as she tilted her face back up towards his, though his eyes closed briefly at the feel of her fingers combing gently through his hair before dropping to his shoulder. Opening his eyes again, he gave her a soft smile. “Been wantin’ t’ do that since I saw ya,” he confessed, finally feeling steady enough to lower his hands from the wall and he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. A shiver ran through him, as now that the heat of the moment had cooled, the cold was starting to seep through his wet clothes, and his earlier concern for her flared back to life as he gathered her closer. “There’s an office o’ sorts in the back,” he began, thinking back to the times he had stayed here. “There’s a stove…. No’ a big one, but enough that we should be able t’ dry out some.”

Taking her hand, Banshee led her through the scattered crates, their path lit by fewer flashes of lightening as the storm began to move on. He grabbed one of the crates as they passed, dragging it along with his free hand until they reached the open door of the tiny office. True to his memory, there was a small, wood burning stove in the corner, and he set about breaking the crate apart and piling some of the pieces into it. A quick search of the desk produced some abandoned ledgers, and he ripped out a few pages, crumpling them up and adding them below the pile of wood.

The wood was old and dry, a fact of which Banshee was grateful for as he reached into his pocket for his matches. The box was soaked like everything else, and there was a moment of concern as he tried several before one caught and sputtered to life. Touching it to the paper, he shut the door when it caught and turned to where Shannon had dropped to sit on the floor before the stove. “Shouldn’t be long before the wood catches, love,” he said as he closed the office door to trap whatever heat they could. He lowered himself beside her, not hesitating to wrap his arm around her and draw her against his side. “Soon as it does, we can work on dryin’ out, aye?”

[Shannon Murphy]

...since I saw ya. Shannon wondered at the admission as his arms finally dropped to settle at her waist, pulling her slightly against him. A thousand questions plagued her mind about the hows and whys and whens, of what he felt and did it match how she did - had the kiss meant everything to him that it had to her? A look in his eyes at the next flash of lightening suggested that it had, but the time for questions and discussions would have to be later, as Shannon felt the icy chill of a early spring night slipping into her bones. Even with the heat generated by Banshee's body pressed so close to hers, Shannon couldn't help but shiver as the air sliced beneath her damp clothing and chilled her skin, and demanding her attention and focus.

She was relieved when Banshee professed knowledge of the building, and the promise of a stove in which they might find some warmth and solace from the storm - because though it sounded as if the worst of it had moved on, she could still hear the steady patter of rain from above. "Aye, sounds promisin' enough," Shannon said with a smile, allowing him to take her hand and lead the way through a maze of crates towards the office at the back of the building. As Banshee set about breaking up the crate he had snagged and searching the abandoned desk for anything else of use, Shannon ventured back out to drag in a crate of her own, figuring the extra firewood would be needed eventually.

By the time she settled on the floor in front of the stove, Banshee was striking his third match and Shannon could see the smallest spark of a flame as he threw it into the stove and could see the very edges of the papers begin to curl and ignite. Rubbing her hands together, Shannon tried to still the shiver that threatened as the cold now clung to her damp clothes and seemed to be struggling to sink deeper still. "Ye would think someday I would remember that dancin' in the rain does have it's downsides," She smiled up at him as she spoke through chattering teeth, knowing that this was all just another classic example of what Sean often called her 'act first, think later' philosophy. Not that Shannon was about to trade any moment of what had transpired that afternoon and despite the bone chilling cold that was currently trying to dampen her spirits, Shannon knew she would treasure it just as much.

She moved closer to him willingly when he settled beside her and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her next to him. "Aye," Shannon said softly, giving into temptation and desire and resting her head on his shoulder as she reached out a hand to find his free one and play idly with his fingers. She could tell herself a whole parcel of stories about what this all meant, that what she felt was some hazy, rain-soaked mirage - but the truth was deep inside her, in a place where that cold could never reach. And the truth was that she wanted to be close to Banshee.

[Banshee O'Hara]

Banshee could feel her shivering as she relaxed against him, and the hand that reached for his shook slightly. Frowning, he tightened his arm a little more, curling his fingers around her side and rubbing at the wet fabric as he laid his cheek against her wet hair, more than willing to bleed whatever heat he could into her. “So dancin’ in the rain lost some o’ its charms, huh?” he asked softly, referring to her comment that he had only grinned at earlier. She was quiet, for her, and as cold as they both were, he figured maybe a bit of distraction would help until the fire that was trying to catch even now began to push its warmth out into the room. He twined his fingers through hers more securely, trying to warm both them and his own at the same time. “Seems t’ me, the rain itself is no’ the problem, but the temperature, an’ I wouldn’t be against tryin’ it again on a warmer night,” he admitted with a soft smile.

Dancing in the rain was not something he had ever felt the need to do before, but now that he had with her, it had jumped up on his list of likes despite the chilly aftermath, and he was far from adverse to sharing many more such dances with her. “Although, cold aside, ye’ll no’ be hearin’ me complain about where this night has brought us…” The words were slightly broken as he couldn’t hold back the shivers in his own body anymore, and the loud crackle that came from the stove as the first bigger piece of wood caught had a breath of relief leaving him. The growing fire produced a healthy flame that had a shadowy, flickering light dancing into the room through the grates in the door. “Shouldn’t be long now,” he mused, thinking that it could be none too soon for the shivering girl beside him.

[Shannon Murphy]

"Ach no laddie," Shannon said, waving off his comment with a slight laugh. "Takes more than a bit of a chill to chase away the charm for a lass like me." It was truth enough, for Shannon had always found a magic in the action and none of that was lost by the biting chill that now crawled beneath her clothing and against her skin - it lingered still, in the soft glow of the fire building in the stove and the light of Banshee's eyes. Downsides there might be, as her body protested her thoughts with another shiver, there was much to embrace about the experience and Shannon's mind was holding fast to those truths. She looked down at their hands, fingers entwined and instinctively her thumb moved to caress the back of his hand, strong and masculine against her own smaller one. "Besides, I daresay this turned out alright, aye?" Shannon asked, knowing there was a tremor in her voice from the cold, but her smile and gaze were steady and there was a certainty that with time the chill would pass - her newly discovered and embraced feelings, would not.

The slight break in his voice caused her to pull away slightly and look at him, concern furrowing her brow as she knew he had to be just as cold as she. There was a promising pop from within the stove as the fire seemed to be taking life and building and though she might not mind Banshee's closeness or the firm, reassuring pressure of his arm around her; she wished for it's presence only as a pleasant show of affection rather than a need to chase away the cold. But tucked away from the rest of the world as it seemed they were, fire flickering in the stove and the newly found intimacy between them, Shannon found herself embracing and treasuring every movement and touch. She smiled as the fire kicked a little more to life and she could finally feel a tiny wave of heat beginning to reach them and she turned to look over at him. "Aye, so it would seem," Shannon said softly, before lifting their hands and pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand. "I'm glad it twas ye that found me tonight, Banshee."

[Banshee O'Hara]

Banshee was cold, wet, and edging towards tired, but he wouldn’t trade this night for anything, and to hear her voice that there was still charm to be found in it for herself made him smile. He hadn’t been surprised at her answer, as he was quickly learning that she was a lot heartier than most lasses, but still, hearing her voice it aloud was nice. Her thumb caressed the back of his hand, and Banshee was struck by the simple, comfortable gesture. So many things with Shannon were pleasant surprises… Not just the lass herself, but the nature of their budding relationship. He’d never been one to make friends easily, and even with the few he had, there were still boundaries to the friendships that none of them were willing to cross. With Shannon, however, there wasn’t that feeling of guardedness, and Banshee found himself relishing all the little things that might seem meaningless to most.

The warmth that Banshee felt as she brought his palm to her lips had nothing to do with the heat that was starting to curl its way out into the room as the fire burned brighter. He gazed down at her, his eyes twinkling in the dancing light of the fire. “Aye… I’m glad o’ it m’self, though I’d like t’ think that ye’d no’ be dancin’ in the rain with just anyone that came along.” He smiled down at her, his fingers playing lightly with her own, and he was glad to see some of her trembling had ceased. Shaking his head lightly and breaking his gaze before he drowned in her, he glanced around the now brightened room. It was bare, save for the stove, the desk, and a decrepit looking chair. Whoever had used the office had long since cleared out anything of use, though Banshee found that with the door shut and the way the crate had caught, the room was warming up quick enough.

The downside to the now cheery fire was the fact that to keep it going, they would need more wood. Gently, he detangled his fingers from hers, though he kept his arm around her for the moment. “Gonna go drag in some more crates, love… Figure if we have enough piled up, we should be able t’ get comfortable an’ no’ have t’ worry ‘bout leavin’.” He studied her for a moment. The fact that she had gone out on her own to drag in a crate had not escaped him, and he realized that maybe he had made a bit of a mistake in assuming she would be content to sit and let him take care of things. Now that he actually thought about it though, it occurred to him that nothing about her had ever indicated that she would be content to be idle when something needed done. He gave her a little squeeze before letting her go and getting to his feet. “If ye’ve a mind t’ help, we could be back an’ settled that much quicker,” he invited with a shrug and an easy grin as, though it wouldn’t bother him a bit if she wanted to stay by the fire, there was truth to the statement and he wouldn’t mind the help nor would he turn down even that much more time in her company.

[Shannon Murphy]

"Ach and now ye sound like Sean," Shannon said, waving off his concern for her possible dance partners just as she may have if they'd come from her best friend. A smile glinted in her eye as she considered the number of times she'd had this same conversation with Sean, stubborn thought meeting stubborn thought - as was often the case when it came to her best friend. But to hear the words from Banshee took on a different tone somehow, perhaps because she knew there was possible caring that laced beneath the words. Not that Sean didn't care for her, there wasn't a doubt in her mind that he did as the man was a piece of her very soul and she'd wager the feeling was mutual - but it was a different kind of caring. Meaning and intimacy woven into the teasing tone of his voice that she somehow knew was uniquely reserved for her; the idea warmed her more than she dared admit. "Don't ye worry laddie," Shannon said, looking over at him as she slid her thumb along the curve of his own and allowed a smile to play across her features. "I do believe all me dances in the rain are reserved now."

Warmth was seeping into the room now, seeming to stretch out around them in a slowly forming cocoon and Shannon was grateful for it because brash words aside, she was chilled to the bone. And she knew there was prudence in his suggestion if they intended to milk the warmth of the fire, sustain it until the clothing was dry against their skin and had chased the cold away completely. He'd used most of what they'd already dragged in to start the fire and stockpiling would serve the added bonus of keeping them moving until the office was even warmer. When he stood she felt the loss of his body beside hers more than she was prepared for and she shivered subconsciously, both from actual cold and she supposed, from the metaphorical one as well. And since she was not a lass to sit with idle hands when there was much to be done as it was, she smiled up at him and scrambled to her feet. "Aye, a little movement may help things too, don't ye think?"

Walking over she inched open the office door and noted that she could already feel a marked difference between the air in the room they stood and the vast openness of the warehouse. "Seems the fire is doin' it's job already," She stated with a smile, slipping out and heading over to the nearest stack of crates and hauling two of them over in the direction of the office.

[Banshee O'Hara]

Banshee chuckled at the affectionately exasperated look on her face and rolled his eyes in mock despair. “Oh, aye… Must be a terrible trial for a daft lass like yerself t’ find herself surrounded by such sensible lads, aye?” he teased, though in truth, he was glad of it, as he was sure she could take care of herself, though he had noticed a bit of a wild streak in her that might benefit from the occasional voice of reason. He did have to admit that he loved her wild streak, however, even as he realized she would more than likely drive him to distraction with it. He was aware of how her hand was warming in his and the way she caressed his thumb, and the not so subtle insinuation behind her words had his pulse jumping just a little. “I think ye’ll find the lucky lad a very willin’ partner in any dance ye wanna save him, love,” he stated with the hint of a smirk.

He watched her scramble to her feet, as he had been almost certain she would, and gave her a nod. “Might help keep our minds off the chill anyway,” he said, following her to the door. The cold breath of air that greeted them as she opened it had him shivering all over again. “I’d say so, yeah…” he agreed, following her out and closing the door behind them to keep the heat from escaping. “If we pile ‘em all up outside the door, we can open it once and just throw ‘em all in,” he suggested as he drug a couple crates of his own towards the office before leaving them beside hers and heading into the darkness once more. Though the storm had moved on, he was glad it was still close enough that the lightening continued to light up the warehouse semi regularly.

A short time later found them once more ensconced in the now cozy office with a large stack of wood for their troubles. Banshee opened the stove door to pile more wood in, leaving the door open for the added heat before moving the chair in front of it. Though it looked too rickety to use for its intended purpose, Banshee figured it would be perfect to dry clothes on as he shrugged out of his still sodden coat and spread it over the back. Beneath the coat he was soaked to the skin, and after glancing towards Shannon, he unbuttoned his shirt in hopes of drying the undershirt beneath it, though for propriety’s sake, he left it on as he dropped once more to sit beside the now roaring fire. A sigh of contentment escaped his lips as his chilled body greedily soaked up the heat radiating out from the cheery blaze. “Now this…” he began with a smile, his eyes lit up by the glow of the dancing flames as they caught hers, “This is no’ so bad t’ be sure…”