Written by: Lourdes, a.k.a. I Fancy Hugh Dancy

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"If You Don't Believe"

By: The Class of '98

I like the way the sunrise ends this night
All I want to do right now is waste more time with you
All we have to be is human 'cos that's what we are
But for me, you're an angel

C'mon love I know that this was always meant to be
Say would you shoot me down if you just don't believe
C'mon love my fear right now this feeling might not stay
Oh, what can I say
So you won't walk away

When will this sun set in my life
'Cause all I want to do right now is waste more time with you
And all the roads lead to heaven led me to your arms
Where I feel like an angel


If you walk away right now, you'll silence the stars
And we'll fall like the angels

Oh,what can I say

So you won't walk away
'Cause all I want to do right now is waste more time with you.

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Rating: T – MA for violence, language and adult situations.

Genre: Romance/Drama/Angst

Summary: The Saints have returned to Dublin. When Murphy reunites with a childhood friend, will sparks fly, even amongst the bullets? Murphy/OC

Disclaimer: This story is pure fanfiction. People, places and names have been altered to fit into the plot. I do not own the Saints or any of the recognizable characters from the film. I own Lourdes and various other stock characters that appear in the story.

Author's Note: Hey everyone! This is my second Boondock Saints fic. I'm doing this for fun since I had a lot of ideas swirling about in my head. Check out my first BDS fic, "Path To Sainthood" if you have the time! I'll try to update both as much as possible. Enjoy!

I would love to hear from anyone and everyone. Any comments, questions, corrections, constructive criticism, suggestions and encouragement are welcome and appreciated!

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Chapter 1: Dublin Calling

"Bless ye, Lourdes lass, for comin' on such short notice. I'm already trippin' on my tits, for fuck's sake. I don't need a fuckin' heart attack to go along with it!"

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at Mrs. MacManus's expression, hands gesturing to her breasts, carrying them as though they weighed a hundred pounds each. As I placed my belongings in a nearby couch, I strode to her side, taking the greasy spatula from her hand, now looking after the cooking duties as she began to rummage through the utter warzone that was her kitchen. I had to bite my bottom lip in order to keep from chuckling once more, for she had began to curse and drink simultaneously while beginning to gather all the rubbish that she had collected the night before and empty them haphazardly into the bin. She had such a character, that Mrs. Annabelle MacManus – or what everyone called her, Ma MacManus – which is why I don't blame my own mother, a woman with a similar disposition, for forging a tight friendship with her.

My mother and Annabelle MacManus have been friends ever since I could remember, but they really became close when Mrs. MacManus' husband left. Nobody other than Ma or my mother knew exactly the story behind it, but I never really thought to ask, since it was none of my business anyway. From what I could remember about my childhood, though, was that I would always spend time with the MacManus twins. They had a couple of years ahead of me, and we never really had much in common, but when they were suddenly left with only a mother, I was practically forced to spend some time with them. It was perfect, in my parents' eyes, since I was an only child. Along with a few other neighbourhood kids, they would always cause a ruckus one way or another, and somehow, they would always manage to bring me along with them.


That was the case until they left Dublin. Again, the details are fuzzy, since the adults thought that I wouldn't understand, but when they were about 15, they were sent off to live in Boston somewhere with a few relatives from Ma's side. Ma thought that it would be the best for them since it was hard times in Dublin at the time, especially without their father, and whether she would admit it or not, her drinking problem wasn't helping either. But now, after a few years, she has thankfully managed to get a hold of herself. So, to celebrate, she thought it was a good idea to finally have her boys come home.

This is why she's a complete mess at the moment.

I couldn't blame her for having so much anxiety with her sons returning after all these years. I could only imagine how much she's missed 'the ungrateful pissants' and that she wants to make everything perfect for when they arrive.

Which, I believe, should be any moment now.

I must admit, though, that I myself am a little nervous about meeting them again. Hell, I don't even remember the last time I saw them! They were in Dublin one moment and gone the next. I haven't had any contact with them over the years, so I think it'll be interesting to see what actually became of the two boneheads. I wouldn't be surprised if they've gotten themselves into trouble of the past years! They seem to have a knack for doing that.

The sudden ring of the doorbell caught both of our attentions. Ma immediately began to stop her rummaging, straightening her back as she gave me a wide-eyed stare. I pursed my lips in amusement, commenting, "Ma, ye look like a doe caught in headlights."

"Fuck." She mumbled, pacing nervously as she took a peek through the window. "Must be them."

I raised an eyebrow in question, walking to her side. "And why are ye not answering the door? I would think ye'd be excited to see yer sons again after all these years!"

She let out a groan, running her hands slowly over her wrinkled face. "It's been more than 10 fuckin' years since I've seen 'em in person, lass! I don't know what to fuckin' say! For all I know they'd be kickin' my fat ass all over this place for pullin' that suicide trick on 'em!"

I let out an exasperated breath through my bottom lip, blowing away some tendrils of my hair from my face. I shook my head, "Ma, ye are definitely not acting the way ye should. Now open the bloody door! The boys must be as anxious to see ye as ye are about seein' 'em!"

"Ye open the door."

"Ma, ye can't be serious!"

Oh, she was serious. She made no effort whatsoever to walk towards the door, standing firm at her place. Rolling my eyes in mock frustration, I handed her over the spatula, giving her a mockingly pointed look as I strode towards the door. Reaching it after a few seconds, I swiftly opened it, slightly stepping back to see who was before me. I was immediately met with questioning blue eyes.

"Who the fuck are ye?"

Well, that's certainly a friendly greeting!, I snorted inwardly, meeting his inquiring gaze with an offended brow. As I continued to eye the male stranger, I found that I felt no sense of familiarity when it came to him. His short, brown hair was combed towards the front, spiking up ever so slightly in front. He wore simple blue jeans, a black shirt, and an all black tweed coat to top it off. His eyes, I must admit, were his distinguishing asset: sparkling blue with hints of green around the pupil.

After a few moments of surveying him, I rejoined, "The question in, sir, who the fuck are ye?"

"Murphy MacManus." He replied curtly, the unamused expression on his face not changing. He kept his stance firm. "So…who the fuck are ye and what the fuck are ye doin' in my Ma's house?"

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A/N: So what do you guys think so far? Should I continue this story or just keep writing Path To Sainthood? Let me know if you fancy a Murphy/OC romance:) Cheers! xx IFHD