We're on a mission from gods...Part 1

(from Brendan's journal)

I was really hoping Aisling could help us in this upcoming assault. Alas the contractor info on who built this compound was sketchy, and I had trouble trying to track it down. I'm convinced I could've done it if given enough time and ability to concentrate...but having Jack, Nate and Gunnar asking me "didya find it yet?" every five FECKING minutes was NOT helping me. I'd be damned if I was going to send Aisling in blind without proper intelligence. Unless I could tell her exactly where to go, exactly what to do, and exactly where to hide, there as no way I was going to risk her life on this mission. Aisling, Ogma bless her, protested, argued she could find the power switch on her own...her loyalty to me nearly brings me to tears at times...but I said no. She started to cry and I switched to the soothing Irish Gaelic of our native land...

"Aisling, a thousand pardons my sweet, but alas, a thousand times no. I must ground you for this mission; I can't risk your life. I've asked Laurel to look after you if I should die in the battle ahead. She will ensure your safe passage back to Erin's shores...back to County Galway."

Aisling burst into tears and sobs and said "No! Brendan no!! ...I...Brendan, I love you!"; I was really glad to be having this conversation in Gaelic, to spare Aisling any embarrassment. Or perhaps myself...I could hear the sincerity in her voice and read it on her face. This was more than sisterly/brotherly love in her eyes, and I found it unsettling. At least this was all in Gaelic, sparing the others the awkwardness of this at least somewhat.

"I know, sweetness, I know. And because I love you, too, 'tis why you're going to sit this one out. You are to listen to Laurel and do whatever she says if I untimely pass. I trust her, and I ask you to as well." I said to Aisling, brushing her hair our of her eyes, wiping her micro-sized tears with my littlest finger.

"I don't like the way you look at her..." blurted Aisling in a huff, averting her eyes from me. I blushed myself, feeling a pang of discomforting embarrassment mixed with unexpected reactionary jealousy of my own and butterflies in my stomach.

"Aisling, she has another, there's nothing between us." I reassured, lying like the two-bit North Dublin hoods I arrest regularly back home.

Aisling glared at me, her green eyes burning holes into mine.

"I KNOW you like her Brendan."

"What's this?" I protested. "What are ye like? Do you think me to be the Son of Angus? A regular Fenian Casanova for feck's sake??"

"Brains are sexy to some women, Brendan...and she's a doctor; last time I checked humans had to be pretty smart to make it through any medical school, much less UCL-of-Feckin' A.", Aisling shrieked.

"That's enough, Aisling!" I roared. "...'Tis decided, yer sitting this one out, and Laurel's to ensure your safe passage back to Ireland if I die; I don't plan on dyin' so you can continue this tirade then, once the Scion kids are safe and not one minute before."

With that, I grabbed Aisling quickly but gently yet firmly in my fist and put her back inside my flask that is her home away from home.

I looked up and noticed everyone else look away quickly, and there was nothing but awkward silence for a while. Even though our conversation had been in Gaelic, I'm sure Laurel heard her name, and "UCL-of-feckin' A" Aisling had said in English, for emphasis. Whereas up until this moment I found it hard to take my eyes off her, for the time being, I just couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with Laurel for at least an hour afterwards.

We prepped for the assault. Gunnar had *acquired* a new, if beat-up looking white van with...Tijuana license plates. Nate rolled his eyes and just muttered "Don't tell me; I'm sure I *don't* want to know..."

It was going to be a long night ahead of us.