The Crates

[Shannon Murphy]

"Oh aye, sensible lads indeed," Shannon scoffed good naturedly, knowing that sensible wasn't exactly the term most would use when describing Sean. "Sean is no more sensible than the lass ye be lookin' at," She explained, shaking her head as she thought of the messes they had gotten in over the years and figured that Sean had dragged her into just as many as she had him. It was their way and Shannon supposed they wouldn't know any other way to be. "Which leave you, Banshee," She said, looking over at him with an amused sparkle in her eye. "And seein' as ye just danced in the rain with a daft lass, yer sensibility is brought into question as well, aye?" She arched an eyebrow at the implication in his voice, then down at where their hands lay tangled in their laps - any dance was it? "Careful lad, ye may just end up with more than ye bargained for."

Shannon smirked even as she was on her feet and she carried it with her out onto the cold warehouse floor, scrambling to grab as many crates as she could as quickly as possible, longing to return to the warmth of the office. They made quick work of the effort, dragging more than ample amounts of firewood to the office doorway and then worked together to pile it into the office. A short time later, Shannon was exploring the confines of that office, nothing more contained inside of it than the desk, stove and rickety chair that Banshee had set just to the side of the stove. But it was serving it's purpose for them well enough and Shannon was grateful for chipping paint, and dusty wood far more than she might have ever admitted.

Turning, she found herself faced with the image of Banshee unbuttoning his shirt, long masculine fingers working on the buttons and for half a moment, Shannon felt her breath catch in her throat. He let the shirt hang open to reveal his undershirt and more muscles more sharply defined through the thin material and she felt her face flush a little as she finally tore her eyes away and busied herself with digging underneath the heavy material of her skirt to remove her boots.

Soaked with water it took a bit for her to work them off, but she managed it well enough and set them aside, close enough to the stove that they might dry off in time. "No," Shannon said as she shed her shawl, tossing it over the chair beside his coat before turning to look at him, his eyes catching hers and she smiled. "Not bad at all," She agreed, settling down on the floor beside him and after a moment's pause shifting over closer to him and reaching over to take his hand again. "I can't think of a better way to spend an evenin' other than with a handsome lad in front of a fire, aye?"

[Banshee O'Hara]

Banshee grinned. Maybe she was right about his sensibility being in question, but as he had spent the last year trying to be somewhat sensible with little to show for it, and all it took was a very ill advised dance in the rain to bring about one of the more pleasanter nights he’d spent in a long time, he wondered if perhaps he hadn’t been looking at things the wrong way over the past year. He returned the caress of her thumb by brushing his own against her palm, his mouth quirking into a full smirk. “Maybe that’s what I’m countin’ on…” he murmured under his breath, not really loud enough for her to hear over the rain on the roof, but not really caring if she did either.

He watched her as she rid herself of her shawl, his eyes traveling the length of her even as he removed his boots to place them beside her own. Her clothes were still wet enough to cling to every curve of her, and though he though he respected her enough not to comment, he wasn’t so much of a gentleman as to ignore the view either, though by the time she turned to him, he had forced his gaze up to her face. She settled beside him, though a bit further away than he would’ve liked, and he decided to let it go for the moment. A moment was all it took, however, for her to move closer, and a slow smile spread, growing wider as she reached for his hand yet again. Some men preferred the quiet, shy, reserved type, and Banshee had dallied with his share of those, but he had always favored a bold lass, himself, and Shannon had boldness in spades.

Her words did nothing to erase the smile that was becoming an almost permanent fixture around her, and he loosened his hand from hers to wrap his arm around her waist, drawing her a bit closer. “Can ye no’?” he asked softly as his free hand caught hers and drew it into his lap. His fingers twined with hers as he met her gaze. “I’m glad ye think so, Shan, for I’m much o’ the same mind.” He studied her a moment longer before leaning in to brush his lips lightly across hers with a lingering sweetness that was far different from the earlier kiss, but no less deeply felt as he drew back.

[Shannon Murphy]

Shannon had always been a bold sort of lass, she supposed it was because she had been raised alongside brash, mouthy O'Malley men - but also knew it was simply part of her nature. She was never going to be one of those lasses who sat quietly and watched life pass them by, and she was certain that any man who might want to find his way to her heart would have to appreciate that about her. Judging by the way Banshee smiled as she took his hand, he didn't seem to mind and it made her even more certain in her newly discovered feelings. Especially as his arm went back around her waist and pulled her closer so she could feel the heat of his body once more - now more intensely with a few layers removed and the fire to warm them.

His fingers tangled and locked with hers and Shannon was struck with how easily and natural all of this felt. As though perhaps she might have known Banshee most of her life rather than just the few weeks that was the reality, her thumb naturally slid over the back of his hand in a caress, deciding she rather liked being in his arms like this. "Aye, seems as though we are of the same mind on a great deal of things, laddie," Shannon said softly, a smile drifting across her features even as his mouth dipped to take hers.

It was perhaps a sweeter kiss than before, less demanding in pressure and intensity, but Shannon still felt the need in her soul as she shifted to get a bit closer. Savoring the touch of his mouth, a hand lifting to touch his cheek just as he had before, though this time she felt like she had the time to linger. To explore the curve of his jaw with her fingers and trace the line of his lips with her tongue, to sink into the kiss in the sort of way that she might have dreamed of doing before this moment. There was the softest of sighs as his mouth claimed hers, the sort of unexpected and subconscious action of surrender as she gave herself over to him and allowed him to have tiny pieces of her soul.

"Ach Banshee," She breathed out, pulling away just slightly even as her hand slid up into his hair to toy with some of the longer pieces. "I do like it when ye kiss me," She admitted with the smallest of smirks, the light in her eyes a sparkle as she looked at him. Finding his eyes with her own, she held his gaze even as she used the hand in his hair to pull his mouth down to hers and claim him in a kiss of her own.

[Banshee O'Hara]

She slid her hand into his hair, and Banshee leaned into the touch, his eyes closing briefly as a tiny smirk flickered on his lips. “Well, as I like kissin’ ye especially well, I’d say it’s a mutually beneficial enjoyment, aye?” His gaze met hers and he could see the sparkle in her eyes as he felt her hand tighten in his hair, pulling him towards her. The pressure of her hand in his hair and the feel of her lips as they pressed against his had his eyes sliding shut once more and turning his body more towards her. He tightened his arm around her waist as he loosened his hold on her hand so as to be able to cup her cheek.

Tilting his head a bit as he deepened the kiss, he slid his hand into her hair, his fingers cradling the back of her head as he poured his feelings into the moment. He had never met anyone like her, and something told him he never would again. Shannon Murphy was one of a kind, and every part of him recognized her for the rarity that she was. He’d never lost himself in a kiss as he seemed to do with her, and he found himself clinging to the feeling, trying to prolong it, even as he knew they should pause.

Banshee finally found the will to pull away, though only far enough to break the kiss. His forehead rested against hers, his eyes still shut and his breathing slightly unsteady as he continued to caress the back of her head. “Christ, Shannon…” he murmured, still unprepared for the reaction to her nearness that continued to leave him shaken.

[Shannon Murphy]

Shannon was trying to catch her own breath, her eyes flickering over his face as his forehead pressed against hers and it seemed that he was feeling the same things that she was. That inevitability that seemed to hang over them ever since he'd found her dancing in the rain, the rightness of his touch and the feeling that flowed through her at his kiss spoke of something bigger than them both that she couldn't explain. "I know..." She said softly, extracting one of her hands from his hair so she could caress his cheek and the line of his jaw with gentle fingers. "Perhaps it is a bit o' insanity Banshee," She began, tipping her head forward to brush a brief gentle kiss against his lips. "But I feel as though I might have known ye a lifetime ago and then some."

It was perhaps an unlikely thought to explain, one that sounded even more foreign when said aloud, but with the glowing fire nearby and the feel of his arms around her as they were tucked away in the warehouse - it didn't sound near as crazy as she might have thought. For Shannon believed in magic, in the fates and the whimsical things of Irish lore, and perhaps there was something to all those things if she had found Banshee in the middle of the city - a lad who felt so right and sure and perfect that there seemed no other explanation. She traced the line of his jaw again, her eyes searching, wanting to memorize the lines of his face to call up later when she needed a thought to keep her warm.

Her eyes fluttered closed after a moment, her forehead still resting against his as she soaked up the moment - the warm glow of the fire giving the room a cozy feel and curled in his arms, practically in his lap and Shannon felt safe and completely at ease. It was this feeling that had her brushing her lips against his jaw, along the line she'd just traced with her fingers and then shifting so she could put her head on his shoulder, feeling the cold and events of the evening catching up with her. For the first time in a long time she was bone tired and felt like she would sleep, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she shifted a bit closer.

[Banshee O'Hara]

If any other lass but the one beside him had uttered those kiss accented words, Banshee would have bolted for the door then and there. Prior to Shannon, he hadn't had time for fanciful notions, nor had anything in his life encouraged the belief that they could even happen. But as he leaned his cheek into her caress, insanity was the last word he would use in describing her thought, as he too had felt the inexplicable draw that seemed to defy all logic, and there was magic in the way she had worked herself into his soul past walls he'd spent years building. Her stormy eyes danced in the firelight as they seemed to search his face and he couldn't have torn his gaze away if he'd wanted to. He knew in the morning they would have to part, to go back to seperate lives and worries, but he hoped that luck would continue to follow them, and that their paths would continue to run parallel until one day merging. Smiling softly, he turned his face into her hand, brushing a kiss across her fingertips. "If it's insanity, Shannon, then it's a madness we both share, an' since it's far better than anythin' I've found as o' yet, it's a madness I'll continue t' embrace."

Banshee could feel her beginning to relax against him, her forehead resting just a little heavier against his own as her eyes drifted shut. His own eyes slid shut as her lips brushed his jaw, and he shifted, drawing her even closer, as her head lowered to rest on his shoulder. The cheery glow of the fire as it spread its warmth through the small room seemed to have a drowsying effect on the lass, and he couldn't blame her as his own body was beginning to feel the strain of the day, eyes and limbs feeling pleasantly heavy dispite the hard floor and uncomfortable position. Grinning sleepily as she cuddled closer yet, he shifted again to rest against the wall behind them, his arms drawing her more snuggly against him until her head rested on his chest, her body partially pillowed on his own. He trailed his fingers absently through her hair as his other hand found hers where it lay on his stomach and he leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes again closing with a deep, contented sigh. "Sleep, if ye've a mind, Shannon, love, as I'm no' sure but that I'm no' bound for it soon myself," he admitted as a yawn escaped him.

[Shannon Murphy]

His offer was tempting, especially tucked up around him as she was, with her head on his shoulder and his fingers in his hair - the warm steadiness of his presence the strongest invitation to close her eyes and forget the world for a bit. Perhaps just a few moments, long enough to dry off and then they could work on getting back home, she sighed softly at the thought, her fingers curling with his as his hand covered hers on his stomach. There was such a pure innocence in this moment, the connection between them real and defined and yet not - Shannon didn't know what this was, what she felt for Banshee exactly, she only knew that since he'd danced with her outside in the rain it felt as though everything had shifted.

It was those thoughts that danced in her mind as her eyes drifted closed, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat like music to her thoughts, giving them a dreamy sort of life as she lingered somewhere between waking and sleep. She hung on as long as she could, wanting to savor the warmth of the moment, the security of Banshee's arms and the intimacy that lay between them despite the short amount of time they'd known each other. But the events of the day proved far to much for her weary body, already worn from long evenings at McGinty's and nights of little sleep, and it wasn't long before she gave in fully to sleep. Her body curled against his, fingers wrapped tightly around his and the sound of his heart beating solidly against her ear as dreams slipped in and consumed her.