fic: I'll Be Your Alibi (part one)

[bonnefois]

Title: I'll Be Your Alibi (1/3 simply because wordcount limits)
Series: Team Fortress 2
Character/Pairing: Scout/Miss Pauling, family OCs, Scout's mother,
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 9180
Summary: He was on the run from the police, she wanted to be anywhere but the family barbecue. When he accidentally gatecrashes the party, she pretends he's her boyfriend, and gives him an alibi to save both their skins. What was supposed to be a one-time thing turns into more as they get tangled in a web of lies together.
Author's note: Inspired by this and a little bit of this

Boot camp didn't exist until much later, however in 1968 there was a military program which sought to reform repeat offenders in Kansas. It's considered a precursor to modern day Boot Camps.

Poppies as a VFW charity go back to the 1920s

Some references on Reagan slogans and such

Some sources I used on mafia during the 1960s-70s in Boston were Paddy Whacked: The Irish Mafia, Bullets over Boston, the memoirs of Kevin Weeks and John "Red" Shea.

The Bug House.

This sticks to canon fairly close, except it assumes Scout was never hired and goes fairly AU after the MVM arc would've come up. It's set in 1980.

(Some liberties are taken with places I couldn't physically have ever been because they closed down and few pictures exist of them, such as The Bug House.)

I told you I'd do it, Madie. It's all yours.


*

It was reasonably warm today--at least, it was warm for September in Boston. Soon, these kinds of parties would have to be sent inside, to country clubs or near the hearth. The punch bowl was filled with something fruity, and knowing her family, alcoholic. She had to try very hard to avoid the wine, but if her mother went on anymore about how cousin Judy was on her third child and was sponsoring the girl scouts, and still managed to keep her house clean like a good mother should, and by the way when will I get my grandchildren from you, she would empty the whole damn bowl.

Unfortunately, 'I make more than the gross income of many countries,' was not a possible answer. Then she'd have to explain why a simple secretary got paid that much. 22 ways to hide a body wasn't exactly dinner conversation. At least, not at her family.

She held her glass away from her. White really wasn't her color, but a chainsaw accident and splatter meant she'd had to wash a lot of her clothes. In her last job she'd worn purple. These days she'd aimed for dark red, the type that hid bloodstains. Today it was distinctly floral. She'd had to change in the car, and not get arrested for indecent exposure. She was still adjusting to the more urban environment.

Sudden jobs came up ever so often.

The sound of sirens grew nearer. Several of her family members had frowned, and muttered about crime getting worse in this area. She was just glad it wasn't her on the run. She'd already had the awkward moment of having to hide a bloody severed hand behind her back when stopped about a broken rear light. The last thing she wanted after a night with her family was an interrogation.

At least the red stains on her shoes were actually wine this time.

She heard a bunch of swearing and a crash. The sirens had gotten louder and closer, until he was drowned out. He crashed over the fence, with a wild look across his face. Tall and lanky, with a full sleeve of tattoos across both his arms, he looked like a lost street thug, or possibly mafia goon. A gun dropped out of his pants, and he scrambled to shove it back. It was so pathetic it rounded back into cute.

If he went down, she might as well. She hadn't had time to bleach her truck bed from that last decapitation. In fact, her bloody clothes were hidden right behind the seats in a used plastic bag.

He smiled when he caught sight of her. Something flirty and suggestive, even admit all this possible danger. In those quick seconds, she made her choice.

"There you are, honey," she said.

She covered his mouth with hers before he could say anything stupid to ruin the lie. He didn't stay surprised long. What she had meant to be a simple closed mouth kiss turned to something more. He gripped her arms, in a gentle, but firm way, and deepened the kiss until it was no longer the chaste public exchange, but dangerously close to a full on public make out. If he took her any harder, he'd be dipping her right there in the grass and pulling off her bra.

Pulling away was a surprising high. She hadn't expected the passion from just an fake kiss for the sake of the police line.

She leaned close to his ear to whisper. "Play along and I'll give you an alibi."

"I like the sound of that," he said in what she assumed he thought passed for a whisper, but was in fact loud enough to get the attention of her entire family.

"This is---" She gestured to him, and hoped like hell that he'd get the message.

Thankfully, he did.

"Dempsey, Liam Dempsey," he cut in, with a line stolen straight from James Bond. He smirked like he'd gone and done something particularly stunning.

"You didn't tell me there'd be company," her mother said.

"Oh, you know how my work is. By the time I get off it's three in the morning, and he's the same. I didn't know he'd crash in here, let alone literally. Are you allergic to using doors, honey? " she said.

"Hey, I don''t just come to parties, I make an entrance."

"Never a dull moment," she said.

"And you are in? Did you meet her at work?" Her mother asked. She looked at Liam with the sort of politely hidden disgust that one might for an insect trapped under a glass bowl.

"Nah, you could say we just ran into each other," he winked at her.

"Yes, and what do you...do, exactly?" Her mother persisted.

"Oh, I ain't had no jobs since I got out of the clink. Got me a slew of new tattoos while I was in there, see?" He pushed up his sleeves to show black dragons twisting over both arms. Pearls were held in their fearsome jaws. "Ma about had a cow, so I got this one for her."

He rolled up his sleeve to show off a heart with Mother written over a yellow ribbon.

"Oh," her mother said, paling slightly.

"Fast Vinnie gave them to me. Offered me a job, too, but like hell if I'd be joinin' some Italian mafia. Irish is really the only way to go. I ain't wearin' no friggin' monkey suit."

"If you keep squealing like that, they're going to put you in cement shoes," she said. She playfully tapped his forearm.

"Goin' to have to catch me first," Liam said smugly. He leaned back and put his arm about her waist. "I'm built like a Thoroughbred through and through." The wink stopped any thought that he might have not been making a dick joke while meeting her parents.

"Ah," her mother said. She adjusted her pearls. Even at a backyard family barbecue, she dressed like Jacqueline Kennedy, complete with pastels and pillbox hat. Poppy hadn't gained her pale blond looks, but she'd gotten her petite stature.

Which was unfortunate in her line of work. Though it did tend to make people underestimate her, which helped. No one looked at a 5'1 girl in a floral sundress and thought that girl is probably kills for money.

"What school did you go to---Liam, was it?"

"School?" Liam said.

"College, yes," she said.

Her father's attention was momentarily diverted from his wine. He could launch into monologues about academic pursuits for hours, if no one stopped him. It usually led to her mother drinking far more and having to be led out before she went on the I could've married a Greek shipping heir spiel that came with five glasses of wine.

"Pretty sure you gotta finish high school for that, and all of them expelled me, even this place down in Kansas after my last turn in the clink. Cages can't keep me! I talk my way out of this, I got a silver tongue." He winked at her, just to make his point all that much clearer.

And now an oral joke which was just blatant enough for her family to get. She'd have to give him a gold star for being the worst guy she'd ever 'dated' later.

He spilled punch, but laughed it off as he put his arm about her waist. "Nice digs you got here, babe. You goin' to show me around? I gotta take a leak, and I don't think your Ma wants me waterin' her rosebushes."

Her mother looked more than a little alarmed. Her father had downed more drinks than was probably healthy for his heart.

He was playing this brilliantly. Her mother wouldn't even touch the why aren't you married yet? talk for months, maybe even years, lest she actually marry him. Now all he had to do was flirt with her sister or mom and he'd win on some kind of bad boyfriend bingo. As it was, he was probably already there with the dick jokes and mafia mentions. And the night wasn't even over yet. She completely believed in his power to reach a level of infamy no boyfriend brought home ever had.

She led him past the patio, past her mother's alarmed looks and worries about her valuables, and inside.

She hadn't been remotely rebellious during high school or college. She'd kept to her books, and mini-skirts hadn't been her style. That was until a note from Mann co. had come in the mail, and instead of settling down into the brick and ivy walls of academia, and marrying someone with prestige and money, as her family would've wished, she took on a secretary job in New Mexico.

The job hadn't mentioned that the heavy lifting would be bodies, and the technical skills would be learning how to cut bones and pull teeth out of people who were usually, but not always, dead. But she'd taken on the job for all its challenges, and usually she had to have several glasses of wine before she regretted anything.

At least, she'd worked there until Saxton Hale lost the company in a drunken arm wrestling bet with a giant Russian mercenary. Now Mann co specialized in manufacturing large guns, medical supplies, bird accessories and cages, translating Russian classics, and sandwich making. An odd assortment, but from what she heard, they were doing fine. Perhaps not raking in millions, but enough to keep his sisters living comfortably, and keep the bodies hidden.

Water ran in the other room twice, and he came out grinning.

"I could kiss you," she said under her breath.

"Feel free to," he said. He smirked, boyish and mischievous. "In fact, feel free to do that any time you want. Like right now. You could kiss me right friggin' now. Lady, I don't know who you are, but you're one hell of a kisser."

I could say the same, she thought, but didn't say. She'd only known Liam for less than an hour, but he already had shown himself to be in the top ten of egocentric men she'd met. And considering that she'd worked for Saxton Hale, that was saying something. (Especially as he was numbers one through nine on the top ten egocentric list)

She had never been much for public displays of emotion, especially the physical kind. Still, she was half-tempted to get at least one more desperate kiss for the road. She had no clue when she'd get a chance to have even a hint of affection. Her job didn't leave her much time for dating, and once she'd spent her weekends burying bodies, she could never go back to talking about the country club.

"But, seriously. I don't even know your name. And since you're my girl, for at least the next hour or so, I kinda need it. I suppose I could just call you baby, but I'm goin' to look like one hell of an asshole if I can't even remember your name."

"Poppy Pauling," she said.

She expected the jokes; she'd certainly heard enough through her life. Had she been born a day later, she would've been likely named different, but she was born on Memorial day, so it won over other possibilities like Anna or Sophia. But a poppy given for a few coins changed everything.

But Liam didn't tease her. Instead, he burst into a big smile.

"Hey, you sound like you belong in the comics! What would your super power be? I mean, other than bein' a damn sexy and fine woman," he said.

"I never thought about it," she said.

"Seriously? What the hell, life ain't livin' unless you've thought about what your super power would be," he said. "I'm thinkin' like, maybe super cuteness. You make everybody you meet wanna bow down and obey you."

She supposed it had its draws.

"And what's yours?" she said.

"Me? I never had to wish. I was blessed with incredible good looks, charm, and super speed. Hell, my life should be a comic, because it's just that awesome."

"Ah, I see, being overconfident and a consummate liar is your super power, then," she said.

"That too," Liam said.

She guided him back outside, before her parents really did call the cops. On the way out, Liam dug into the cooler, and lifted out a bottle of beer.

Poppy pushed it back into the cooler.

"Didn't think you were a teetotaler," Liam said with dismay.

"Do me a favor and save it until you leave. Most of the rest of my family is drunk. A few more and they'll be drunk enough for us to get out of here."

"Together?" Liam said suggestively.

"I'm your alibi for tonight, that's all," she said.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for tryin'. You're a real swell girl. Plus, I'm already drunk on your eyes."

"Then you better sober up, because we're going back out there in a minute," she said.

"Ouch, good one, though. I bet you're as tough as nails, and twice as sharp," he said.

Her mind wandered back to the teeth she'd found in her purse the other day. "You have no idea," she said.

"True, true. Though you could tell me, then I'd have an idea."

"Any longer and my family will assume you're making off with the dinnerware, or making out with me," she said.

"Hey now, I don't steal breakables, they break. Your lips though?" He licked his lips. His gaze was focused straight on her mouth. "Now that's somethin' I might think of stealin'."

She smiled. "You can't steal what's freely given."

He leaned down. "You got the best ideas."

The first time had been a desperate rush, but this was something else. Exploratory, even teasing. When he started to pull back, she leaned in and bit his lower lip. She could've kissed him a lot longer. Hours, the whole night, tangled up in sweaty sheets, but the sound of another siren made him pull away.

"They're goin' to be askin' questions soon."

"You'll be out of here long before that happens," Poppy said. She glanced back, and ushered him out the side door. From over the gate, she could see her mother well into weepy drunk territory.

"How could this happen?" her mother sobbed. She dabbed at her eyes with a balled up napkin. "You try and raise them right, and then, and then---this happens."

"Remember Icarus," her father said absently.

"Aand that's the cue to go," Poppy said.

For not he first time, Poppy was glad for the large flowering shrubs that had been planted so long ago. Ducked down, their exit was covered from both drunken parents and any passing patrol cars.

Liam paused with his finger on the door handle. She made a mental note to wipe the prints off when he left. He was already in the system, and possibly at the scene of a crime recently. She'd been careful enough to never get caught, but he could be the stones in her pockets to make her sink straight to the bottom.

He looked back one more time, and then hopped in.

"What are you goin' to do when your Ma asks about me? You made it sound like I was one step away from proposin'," he said.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. I could make you cheat on me, that's always a good one. Mother will say she always knew he would, and we can go our separate ways," she said.

"Oh, come on, I ain't goin' to have it goin' around that I'm a cheat, it'd ruin me," he said.

"Wouldn't you enjoy it adding to your reputation?" she said.

"You kiddin' me? It gets back to my Ma, she'll kill me. And I am not exaggeratin' here. I already live in fear that the girls I flirt with don't talk to her. She hears so much as I said a girl has a nice ass and she'll be kickin' mine."

"I like her already," she said.

"She'd probably like you. But, I mean, who wouldn't like you?"

"Liam, you've known me for less than a day. Hell, you've known me for less than eight hours," she said.

"It was a a pretty intense few hours. Besides, I met your family and everythin', how many boys you brought home?" Liam said.

"Not many. My job doesn't leave much time for dating," she said.

"See, I'm special," Liam said.

"Hmm, all right. I'll have you be jealous of how much I make and determined to turn me into some barefoot and pregnant stay-at-home wife," she said.

"Ma will really kill me then. Besides, I'd never do that," he said.

"It doesn't have to be true, it just enough to be plausible," she said.

"That ain't remotely plausible," he said. "Now c'mon, you can do better."

She rested her hands on the steering wheel.

"You hit on my sister?"

"Totally out of character. I may have dropped out of school back when I was fourteen, but I ain't stupid. Like I'd go for any girl after I'd met you."

"You've never even met my sister," she said.

"Unless she's an identical twin, no dice. I know me, and I'd never ditch somebody like you. I mean, you're smart and funny, completely hot and did I mention the smart? I bet you can read the fuck out of those books."

"Again, you've known me only a while. I can, however, 'read the fuck out of those books,'" she said dryly.

Liam smirked. "Knew it. Minute I saw you, I was like 'now there's a girl that can read."

She shook her head. This little lie was growing more and more complicated. "Fine, I'll dump you because you wouldn't get a job and were hopelessly immature, and I don't know what I ever saw in you, and I'm tired of having to break you out of jail. Is that better?"

"Don't know what you saw in me? He motioned to his face, his chest, and pointed to his biceps. "Hey, if you need a reminder, I'll take off my shirt. Like they'd buy that after I showed off these guns, and that ain't even mentionin' my devlish charm."

"I'm not going to tell my mother I used you for sex. Though it'd be implied," she said.

Liam smirked, and high-fived himself. He never let having no one to high-five get him down. Even now he was mentally congratulating hypothetical him for getting hypothetically laid.

"Really?'" she said. She gave him a sidelong glance.

"Little victories, Poppy. Besides, I was high-fiving for you, too. After all, you got to score with this," he said.

She rolled her eyes, but through it all, she couldn't help but chuckle at him. His stupid smile was getting to her.
Poppy started up the truck, and backed out.

"Where are we going?"

"Southie. You need directions?"

"It'd help. I spent most of my time here around Harvard Square," she said.

"Oh, you're a Harvard nerd?"

"Got my MBA a while back," she said.

"Really? What you managin'?"

"Let's just say I took a detour along the way, and got a more outdoorsy job," Poppy said.

Liam draped his arm over the truck door. "If bein' your alibi means that I get to spend time with you, then sign me up," he said.

"You're more likely to be a liability," she said.

"Yeah, but I'm a cute liability, and we'll have a blast on the road down to hell and back," he said.

"Okay fine. Animal magnetism, I had a strange breakdown where I only date investment bankers. She'll be too thrilled to look too deep into it," Poppy said.

He nodded knowingly. "That works. Ma will totally buy that one. I mean, she's goin' to bring you up every time she hits the bottle, which is about every day and be all 'why couldn't you marry that girl, she was the best thing that ever happened to you,' but ain't nothin' I can do about that."

He leaned back in. "But, of course what you really saw in me was my boyish good looks, charmin' wit, great kissin', and amazin' skills in the sack."

"You already mentioned all that. Multiple times," she said.

"It bears repeatin'," Liam said.

The trip was shorter than expected. A mere fifteen minutes, until the sirens got duller and she recognized the Orange Line.

"For the record, it wasn't me," Liam said.

"I didn't ask, but okay," she said.

"I mean, the sirens. I was just visiting a buddy after prison, and it turns out maybe he got into somethin' a little shady."

"It wouldn't have mattered either way," she said. "I don't let a little something like a warrant for an arrest dictate who I associate with."

"Good. Hey, drop me off here, would you? We had to leave before I even got to try any food," Liam said.

"Of course." She pulled over to an empty parking spot, but left the truck idling. "Goodnight, Liam. Keep dreaming."

"Oh, I will. I will," Liam said.

He closed the door and walked up the street. He could barely walk past a person without calling out to them and stopping for a chat. She turned the key. The engine drowned out his voice.


*

To say that she put it out of her mind wasn't quite accurate. He'd come up in odd moments, where she wiped the blood off her hands and watched it wash down the sink. A joke, a compliment, or just the memory of his voice and the feel of his lips would bring a smile to her face.

But that's all he was, a thought in the back of her mind, until her mother left her in need of an alibi again, right in the middle of a phone call.

"Poppy dear, your sister's baby shower is tomorrow. Just in case you forgot, considering you're oh so forgetful about family affairs. You aren't taking a date, are you?"

Poppy stared at the phone. She'd be trapped in a room with mothers, toddlers, and tales of her sister, queen of the PTA. Poppy momentarily thought about turning herself into the FBI and admitting all her crimes. A life in Sing Sing would be nothing compared to twenty minutes with a group of stay-at home moms.

Then, the memory became clear. She could have an accomplice. Poppy smiled, and clutched the phone tighter.

"Poppy, dear?"

"He's coming," she said. "...I think it would be good to see children. Maybe give him some ideas. He's really good with kids."

"Children?" She heard a clink of glass, and the distinct sound of something being poured.

Silence came over the line for quite some time. That was several gulps. "C-children you said? Isn't it a bit soon?"

"Oh, we've known each other a while. I just hadn't the time to bring him home. You know how busy I am all the time. Besides, as you're always telling me: I'm not getting any younger."

"Poppy, I need to go. I'm quite thirsty. Goodbye, dear." She hung up without waiting for Poppy's response.

Poppy stared down at the phone. Here she was, back on the alibi.

But it wasn't until the call that she reconsidered those last few moments.

"Liam, I need you," she said.

"Just the words I want to hear."

There was a sound of someone making smooching noises just behind him.

"For fuck's sake, Michael, you're friggin' thirty. Stop soundin' like a schoolkid. Yeah, so I got a girl. You jealous? Beat it!"

"Hey, don't mind my brothers. Couldn't get enough of me, huh?"

"You've got a girl?" she said.

"Hey, you needed an alibi, I needed my brothers to get off my back. It's a win-win situation. Besides, what else was I supposed to call you? My parole officer? My AA sponsor?"

"It's fine. Um, actually, I need you for a this...this being a baby shower," she said.

"Wait, what? But we only kissed! You can't actually get knocked up from just some tongue action, right? Even if it was really awesome tongue action---"

"Relax, it's my sister's baby shower."

"Oh my god, don't scare me like that. I thought I was going to be the first tongue daddy in history!"

"Liam, pregnancy really doesn't work like that," she said.

"Man, am I glad for that, you about gave me a heart attack," Liam said. She heard something being dropped on the other side---his hat?---and his mother's voice in the background.

"Yeah, Ma. It's for me. Tell Michael to shove off. Yeah I'd tell you to shove off myself, but I'm talkin' to a girl. Yes, it's a girl, fuck off! Not you, Ma. Michael!"

She held the phone away from her ear for a few moments.

"Liam," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here."

"I need you to look like you just got out of the pit, like you just fought ten men, and wearing the tightest shirt you own."

"That's basically me every day. Except sometimes I fight twenty," Liam said.

"Good, I'll pick you up at noon," she said.

"Poppy, you can pick me up any time. I mean it."

"Noon it is," she said dryly.

*

She picked him up at the curb. He was lounging against a streetlight in a way which tried to be sultry, but made him look more like a heroin-addicted rent boy. Before stepping into her truck, he waved back at several other men on the stoop of other worn down brick buildings.

As he was climbing in, he gave one look back to them. "Told you!"

He buckled his seatbelt, and tried to turn the radio. The dial was nothing but static, and he quickly turned it off.

"It's broken," she said.

"You can't even enjoy Tom Jones while you ride? That's a huge shame. So, you goin' to show me off to even more of your family? Not that I blame you, of course---"

"I have to pick up something first," she said.

"You haven't even gotten the gift yet? You're playin' it dangerous, Pops. I like that in a girl."

"If you're going to give me fake endearments, save it for when we're around them, and try to avoid the ones which make me sound like a balding old father," she said.

"You'd pull it off, balding and old, but sexy too, you know? Like MILF, but Grandma. GILF? GILF could totally be a thing," Liam said.

"I'm just going to ignore that you said that," she said.

"It's goin' to catch on, mark my words," Liam said.

"You seem pretty happy for someone who about had a heart attack thinking you got me pregnant from kisses," she said.

"Hey, I got a great tongue. You could even say it's got superpowers," Liam said.

"So you keep telling me," she said.

Liam lifted his eyebrows suggestively. "When you got gifts like mine, you just gotta share 'em with anyone who will listen. Besides, you already got a taste," Liam said.

It had been a pretty good kiss, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction.

She hopped out, and headed towards the store. Liam followed after her.

She went straight past the lines of pink and blue, and went for the sides of yellow. She held up a little onesie.

"It's so small," Liam said, his voice filled with wonder.

"You should see the baby shoes and socks," she said.

She held up a little sock with yellow duckies on it, and a pair of the tiniest little rain boots imaginable.

"Oh my god, that's the cutest thing I've ever seen--other than you. Except I don't wanna take a baby boot out dancin'."

"No worries, I wasn't threatened that you'd leave me for a pair of boots, no matter how small they are," Poppy said dryly.

She grabbed several pairs of both. After all, there would be a subtle jab that she'd missed the last shower and several birthdays. She'd been across the country in the badlands of Nevada with her last job. Which was a lot like this job, except it wasn't the mafia, and she didn't get weekends off then. Or any time, for that matter. That one day a year had been killer. Which summed up most of her job there, actually.

*

A pile of colorful and pastel wrapped gifts were all wrapped with care in a corner of the kitchen. After depositing her gift, she'd made straight for the living room.

It was going better than she could've imagined. The women her sister had invited were both giving him disgusted looks and ogling him, sometimes in the same glance. She was fairly certain that almost all of them would've kissed him just as hard as she had, even as they pretended otherwise.

He also made the perfect excuse to avoid the main battlefield in the kitchen, where Gina traded recipes like gunfire and Harriet had to be the best at everything, continually one-uping everything, Judy always had tales of past PTA meetings, and June continually mastered the art of passive aggression.

She wondered how Harriet would've one-upped her job. I kill people for living would likely have her jump up on the table and declare well I'm a serial killer, I have dozens in my basement!

The house was improbably clean, considering the number of children that lived there. The couch was gingham, not plaid, as her hostess assured her. Poppy really wasn't feeling the avocado colored kitchen, and the couch that matched the drapes. Worst of all, white carpet. She couldn't imagine the amount that got spent on carpet cleaner a day.

She sat on the couch, as far away from the crowd of Stepford Wives as possible. Her mind was filled with escape routes. She could fake an emergency. No, her sister would bring it up next time she went to family dinner. Maybe she could have Liam fake an emergency. None of them would want to associate with someone from Southie.


Liam casually put his arm about her shoulder. Her plans were cut short by the distraction, and the nearness of him.

She raised her eyebrows.

"I thought that was the idea?" Liam said in an undertone.

"You're right, it's a good idea."

Poppy glanced back towards the bag near the door.

"I am never having one of these," she said. "Such a waste of time."

"Kids? They're cute, though," Liam said.

"I mean that," she said.

She motioned towards the bag. The animals on the diaper bag had smiles that verged on robotic and creepy. "I can find my own bibs and diaper bags, and they won't be as hideous as those."

"Jeez, they're goin' to scar the poor kid for life, can't anyone just get baseball stuff for their kids like any good parent would? I sure as hell am gettin' mine baseball onesies. Nothin' scary about that," Liam said.

She glanced at him. "You want kids? You didn't seem to want them when we talked this morning," she said.

"I mean eventually I would. I want a ton of them, enough to have my own baseball team. I'd rather actually get some to actually have them, though. Surprise tongue babies ain't a good thing to wake up to."

"I doubt you'll be saying the same thing once you've had one. I've never seen better birth control than spending time at my sister's last year. Her baby was teething," she said.

"Poppy, I got seven brothers. I know loud. Didn't have any cryin' babies, though. I'm the youngest."

"Try babysitting sometime. You'd probably take up celibacy," she said.

"Take up what? I ain't joinin' no baby cults," Liam said.

"It means to stop having sex, like a priest," she said in an undertone.

Liam let out a laugh loud enough to draw the attention of the women at the table in the kitchen.

"Not happenin', not for all the teethin' babies in the world. Besides, I can tell you ain't Catholic, because you don't know nothin' about priests. They sure as hell ain't stoppin' havin' sex, vow or not. Anyways, they're just kids, how hard can it be? You say that like I ain't ever watched kids. I play baseballs with all the little guys and gals down the way. Vicky's, got one hell of a throw. I totally taught her all she knows."

She studied him, but couldn't tell if it was his usual exaggeration, or even a hint of the truth.

"What about you? You want kids?" Liam said.

She thought on that a moment. Laughter rose up from across the room. The party had just begun, and yet they were already deep into the second glass of wine.

"I don't know. I know for sure I don't want to be a housewife who does nothing but care for children and clean," she said. She twirled a dark strand between her fingers. "But I can't even imagine having kids at this point. I guess you could say I've got too much on my plate."

"Hey, it's a modern world If Wonder Woman can save it it nothin' but a swimsuit, you can do whatever the hell you want. Bonus points if you do it with a cute swimsuit and tie people up in the process."

Well, she had tied to pieces of that body in the tarp last night, so it at least half counted.

"I don't think the swimsuit and heels are feasible, though tying up is negotiable," she said.

Liam raised his eyebrows suggestively. "I like where this is going."

Before she could respond, there was a crash down the hall. A little girl stumbled into the living room. She had chubby cheeks, wispy whitish blond hair which seemed to go everywhere at once. Her little pinafore was already stained with juice. Her serenity only lasted a moment as a whimper turned out into outright bawling. Before any of the mothers could even make their way, Liam had already leapt up from the couch and lifted her up.

"Hey, no worries, I got this," Liam said.

She was sniffling so hard. Only the sight of his tattoos made her stop, and reach out to touch his arms. me too, Poppy thought, though she wasn't about to let Liam know that.

"Yeah, my tats are pretty cool, eh?"

"You draws them? You doodles on your arms? Mommy said if I made a face like that, it'd stick. Is draws like this?"

"Nah, it's ink---You like to draw? I bet you draw a mean sun, with some really rad sunglasses."

She bobbed her head in something that Poppy supposed counted as a yes. The tears had slowed, but not entirely ceased. The origin of her sadness hadn't become apparent, but Liam had overshadowed whatever had caused the outburst.

The mothers looked about half captivated, half ready to call in the police.

"He may not look like it, but he's great with kids," she said.

"Yeah, I was voted most likely to have a ton of children by multiple mothers last time in the prison yearbook," Liam said.

Now they leaned more towards calling the police.

"He's kidding," Poppy said.

Liam shook his head, but she gave him a silencing look.

"Liam, you better not join the mafia, or you'll be buried before the night is over for squealing," she said in an undertone.

"That's what my Ma always says," Liam said. "I got good bids back in the day, but she never let me go be one of the boys."

He pulled out some notebook paper and a pencil from his bag. They had a sweet smell, but not like a woman's perfume, or stolen kisses. Given the faint sticky residue, she'd say they'd been stored near candy that had come out of its wrapper.

"I never figured you of all people would be an artist," she said.

"Artist? Please! I just doodled my way through classes. I keep it up because I gotta keep my hands busy. Teachers were always on my case for jigglin' my leg all the time. Besides, I found some great tattoo ideas. Here, I'll sketch you my absolute favorite," he said.

He drew fast, all quick lines that he erased with well-worn baseball shaped novelty eraser.

She expected something sports, or some superhero. But what she saw was a fairly accurate rendition of her, except in comic book form. Catsuits and whips really weren't her type of preferred fashion, and she was pretty sure that she could barely walk, let alone run in heels like that.

The little girl widened her eyes. "You drew?"

"Yeah, I did that. That pretty lady is all my doin'. And you know what?" Liam leaned in closer. The girl looked utterly rapt. "She's my girl. I'm almost as lucky to have her as she is to have me."

She held out her little sticky hands towards the paper, but Liam pulled it away.

"Whoa there, Nelly. I'd rather keep this one myself. But hey, I'll draw one special for you of these guns. I'll even throw in some abs, because I'm such a great guy."

He quickly jotted down another drawing of a superhero in tight spandex. Some kind of runner based superhero, with a lightning theme and a whole lot of tattoos in his sleeveless suit. She had it crinkled and held to her chest in a moment.

"How about you put it up on the fridge?" Poppy said.

Liam lifted her up. Poppy smoothed out the wrinkles and put it on the fridge. She would've bet money that this drawing would be 'mysteriously' lost into the trash before the night was over, but at least kids had short memories and were easily distracted.

"Really, I don't know where the nanny is. I precisely told her to watch the children," said Harriet.

Poppy's mouth twitched towards a grimace, but she forced a smile.

"It's okay. We'll take her back."

The wary gaze of the women followed them. In a few moments, the chatter started up again as the wine poured freely.

In Liam's arms, the little girl had completely calmed down. He patted her back, and started to rock back and forth. She seemed on the verge of falling asleep right there in his arms.

Poppy couldn't help but smile. It was such a wonderful little scene. She almost wished she'd brought a camera. But in her line of work, cameras would make the rest of the group antsy, like she was stocking up blackmail.

Instead, she tried to commit every detail to memory. Her little face rested against his tattoos, the blond curls and the way he smiled. All of it was etched somewhere deep inside her.

*

After the baby shower, she didn't hear from him for a couple weeks. She settled into a life of butchering and dumping, occasionally cut between trips for new clothes to replace the ones that had been ruined in the process. He never really left her mind, but she always came home too late to call, and what would she say?

I think about the way you held that little girl a lot. You'd be a wonderful father.

That wasn't exactly something she could just outright say to her alibi partner. Hell, she barely wanted to deal with this thought, and all it could entail.

And so it went, except one day, she received a call just as she got home. She kicked off her muddy, bloodstained shoes and rushed to pick up the phone.

"Phew, there you are. I been callin' all day," Liam said.

"I was just at work," she said.

"Look, I need a solid. I accidentally squealed. I gotta call on a favor, just like you did that time," he said.

"Liam, next time you feel like doing something stupid, call me. Don't say what it is, knowing you it's illegal and the last thing I need is to have us both incriminated. Just say 'Poppy, I feel like doing something stupid' and I'll say Liam, don't do it."

"Does it count if it's less stupid than some of the other stuff I've gotten up to? Because on the stupid scale, it was maybe a 2 tops, and I gotta tell you, I have done some level ten stupid shit in my life. Hell, I've done stupid stuff which broke the stupidometer. I should get an award for livin' through some of that," Liam said.

She clutched the phone tighter. "It still counts! I told you to keep your mouth shut! There isn't a mafia around which likes their secrets blabbed out in bars because you had to brag."

"Nah, man, I can take the mafia. It's my Ma. I got ticked off at my brothers teasin' me and talked about you. Now I may have overdone it a bit, because Michael was bein' a jackass, and now she thinks I’m one step away from buyin' a ring. Ma thinks I'm holdin' out on her and is demandin' to see who I'm serious about."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

"We have got to stop with these accidental engagements," Poppy said.

"I don't know, they're pretty fun. Next, we could go to Vegas and pretend to be married, we'd never have to deal with a borin' family affair again," Liam said.

"I'm sure it'll be just as fun as telling your mother you lied to her," she said.

"And see the look on her face when I tell her that she ain't gettin' a daughter-in-law after all? Yeah, that'd kill me."

"As opposed to the look on her face when you have to lie away said daughter-in-law after meeting her and getting her hopes up?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Liam said.

She sighed. "I guess it's only fair. I did drag you to a baby shower."

"You don't owe me for that. It was a great time. I got some good sketches in, and I got a good idea what to ask for my next tattoo. I've still got my back and ass to go," he said.

"I'm sure your mother will be thrilled. How are you going to lie out of this one?" she said.

'You're tellin' me, Ma was tellin' me that I better propose because you were the best I'd ever get. And she ain't even met you yet."

"You sure have gotten us deep in this one."

"Yeah, but you're good at getting' me out of stupid stuff I did. Like, huge talent. It'd be a waste not to use a talent like that!"

"All right, I'll come. What time?"

Liam listed off times, until they both agreed. When Poppy put down the phone, she let out a long breath. Just another day with her fake ex-convict boyfriend pulling off another alibi.

*

She knocked at the door. A dog was insistently barking down the street. Old brick, the sound of the sea. There was a faint scent of mildew with the salt in the air. The apartments of the projects looked on the brink of falling into ash. Like the next Nor'Easter might blown it down. Clothes flapped in the wind on the rusted fire escape. From blouses to house frocks, the water dripped from them like there was a sudden rain storm only from that side of the building.

She muttered to herself 105, 105.

At least it was a ground floor apartment. She heard yells, and blaring television as she passed down the hall. The frayed carpet was filled with burn marks and the scent of cigarettes.

She knocked three times, loud enough to go over the television from the room over. A woman in red answered the door. Her apron was covered with flour, and there was a wine glass in the other hand. She smirked, perfectly coiffed as she caught sight of Poppy.

"Sorry, we're Catholic. You ain't goin' to get far in Southie goin' door to door. Maybe you'd have better luck in Roxbury."

Maybe she'd worked a little too hard to come off as clean and family friendly for his scheme, and come to think of it, she probably should've left those pamphlets in the car.

"Actually, I'm here for Liam. Did he write the number down wrong? I'm looking for the Dempseys," she said.

"Wait, you're the girl Liam was serious about?" She gave her a serious once over. Yet, under the intense scrutiny, she seemed to pass some kind of invisible mother test.

"Come on in, he'll be there in a second," she said.

There was something harsh in her beauty, a cynicism that had faded her throughout the years. No gray streaked her hair, and either she had the best regime she'd ever known, magic, or amazing genes, for despite having eight large, rambunctious boys, she looked a good twenty years younger than she was. Or at least, how old Poppy assumed she had to be. Liam was well into his twenties, and he'd mentioned being the youngest of eight boys.

"Sit down, sit down. You're just in time for dinner. Don't mind the mess; my boys are animals. As soon as I'd tidied up, one of them is walklin' around the kitchen with muddy boots lookin' for a snack."

"Liam! Your girl is here!"

It wasn't just Liam who came, but a veritable horde of men, each larger and more scarred than the last.

Liam was the smallest of the bunch, but hardly the least feisty. One of his brothers grabbed him into a headlock.

"Lemme go, you fuckin' asshole--"

"Language, Liam," his mother said.

"It's no problem; I've worked with a hard crowd before," Poppy said.

"Well, I'd guess. No one else could handle Liam otherwise"

"I didn't raise them in a barn, but heaven knows they don't seem to realize that."

A heaping plate of chicken and potatoes was placed before her.

"Ma's a great cook," Liam said proudly. He lifted a spoonful of buttery mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"With all you boys, I certainly get lots of practice," she said. She bent down and kissed Liam's head.

But when she turned to Poppy, just above Liam, there was something intense in her gaze. Protectiveness, or some kind of motherly intuition that could smell a lie.

"You don't seem from around here," she said.

"Yeah, she's from the Harvard Square types."

"Didn't think you went around there much. You ain't been hangin' on Beacon Hill tryin' to scam the rich kids again, have you?"

She brushed her leg against him. He looked to her, with an unsaid question. She shook her head. His mother was too close, so she simply mouthed let me.

"You could say we just ran into each other," she said.

"Literally," Liam said.

Poppy smiled. "Very literally."

"And I knew this girl was special. Real special. I had to bring my A-game out," Liam said.

"If that was your A-game, I can't believe what your B or C game looks like," Poppy said.

"Talkin' about chicken," Michael said.

"Shut it," Liam said.

"Wait, I made a cake. An old favorite. I'll get you the recipe," she said.

"Trust me, you'll want the recipe," Liam said.

When his mother left, Liam nudged her with his foot.

"She never shares the recipes. Always said she'd take it to her grave. Guess she really likes you," Liam said.

Poppy knew exactly what this meant. The alibi had gone to far, and now his mother was starting the in-law preparations. By the next time, there'd be baby pictures out and mentions that just maybe, she'd fit in her old wedding dress. She glanced back. No, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd asked him to be her alibi. Now she just had to figure a way out of this without hurting anyone.

*

His mother--who had insisted she call her Colleen--had sent home a piece of cake she'd somehow managed to keep away from her many boys. Liam chattered on about something, but she didn't hear him.

She chewed on her lower lip. Her escape plans usually involved death, dead bodies, and disposing of said dead bodies. None of which were viable options for what they'd gotten themselves into.

"You're thinkin' again," Liam said.

"It happens," she said.

"Lemme guess, 'how lucky am I to meet this great family, and man I wanna kiss Liam again, he is such a great kisser.' I'm totally hot, right? I mean in guessin'; me bein' hot is a given."

"More like how can I end this. She was practically about to give me your grandmother's ring," she said.

"You could just kiss me," Liam said.

"And what would that solve?" She said.

He shrugged. "I'd be gettin' kissed, you'd be gettin' kissed. Win-win. Perfect plan, if you ask me."

Usually she was so good at killing things, but this lie was getting a bit hard to squash.

"All right, all right, the getaway plan, right? I got it, your Snooty McRichpants ex came and took you back to richville, and I was just the fling to make him mad," he said.

"That makes me sound completely shallow, your mother won't even want to talk to me again if you say that one," she said.

"Whoa, you can't still be friends with ma. She'll just keep harpin' on us getting' married," Liam said. "Unless this means you're down with bein' kissin' pals, because I could definitely be down for that."

"She'll get over it," Poppy said.

"Hell no, I lost count of the amount of times she's brought it up. She really, really likes you," he said.

"She's something else," Poppy said.

"Hmm, okay, how about this: I'm going to take a job overseas," Poppy said.

"And when she sees you by accident? I mean sure she don't get out much, but you're in the same city. It could happen, especially if you go to Fenway," Liam said.

"The job fell through, but we didn't reconnect because when I came back you were flirting with every girl in the bar, flexing like your muscles were spasming," she said.

"She'd kill me, but she'd buy it," he said.

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. "You are really hard to fake breaking up with."

"I know, right? You just can't bear to leave me, even when we're pretendin'," Liam said.

"I freaked because you came on too fast and proposed too early?" Poppy suggested.

"Yeah! I mean, that'll get me yelled at, but at this rate anythin' I do is goin' to get that. But I gotta go ask for her ring first."

"Can't you lie and say you stole a ring, and fenced it when you were utterly heartbroken by me?"

"Nah, she'll rag on me for not takin' the ring and riskin' another prison sentence."

She let out a sigh. "Okay. Take the ring for a while, but just keep it a day. Then return it to her, and play it up. Make it look like I really stomped on your heart. Then our alibi will be complete."

They both fell silent.

"So... That's it?" Liam said.

"That's it," she said.

Liam looked out towards the window. The streetlights, and teens in ripped jeans walking by.

"Last time we said it was the final goodbye, but that didn't happen. I'm just---I'm goin' to keep on believin' and hopin' that this isn't the last time either."

"I just hope it won't be in a line up," she said.

"Nah. Between my legs, and your smarts, the cops won't stand a chance," Liam said.

"Your legs? What are you going to do, try and distract them with a striptease?"

Liam put his leg on the dash, and rolled up his pants to reveal some seriously muscled thighs and calves.

"Champion track master, these legs won medals. I could've taken my school to the big leagues, but the assholes threw me out for gettin' into too many fights. Tried a couple other schools, but I kept gettin' in fights. Eventually, I just gave up and stopped goin' entirely. Hop on me and it's like ridin' a mustang. Ain't the only thing I got in common with that mustang, either," Liam said.

"And you wonder why you have so many people asking if you were raised in a barn," Poppy said.

"Nah, I know. Because I'm fast, handsome, and everyone wants to ride me."

"Well, that's one way of putting it."

"Funny, you ain't denyin' it," Liam said.

"If you change your mind about that getaway, you know where I live," he said.

"Goodbye, Liam," she said. She chuckled. "I guess I should say goodbye again."

"With luck, I'll get another chance to say goodbye to you," Liam said.

She pushed her dark hair behind her ear. "Who knows? Anything could happen."

"Even you and me," he said. he winked, and made a couple of finger guns, before he turned off. She watched him disappear down the lane, his hands in his pockets as he walked. For a second she felt a twinge of something, like a nostalgic ache. She didn't allow herself to focus on the what ifs, and instead turned the key. She'd spent her life burying her feelings in her work; she wasn't about to stop anytime soon.

*