Author's Note - The Muse is back. I wanted a couple of days for Walking to sink in, but when She speaks, my fingers listen. Welcome readers! I hope this finds you well. I hope you enjoy the start of this epic two part piece. Please note that I do not own any part of The Boondock Saints one or two, that is all Troy Duffy, brilliant man. The only one I can lay claim to is Quinn.

I would like to throw some love at DeDe324, who I adore and who is an amazing writer herself, you should check out her stuff. I am being fueled by her words of encouragement in her reviews, on Twitter and through PM's. Thank you, you majorly rock my sock and I love you to pieces!

Please read and review, I would love to hear how I'm doing or how I can improve, thank you all again!

Eight blissful years had passed, Duffy and Quinn were tremendously happy. They had a 5 year old red headed child named Rosaleigh, named after both of their grandmothers. Duffy still a detective and Quinn graduated and became a first grade teacher. Neither of them had heard anything about a MacManus in those eight years, both extremely thankful that was the case. Paul Smecker had passed away a few years ago; it was a sad, sad day for those that knew him. Dolly and Greenly were still partnering themselves with Duffy. Things were amazing until one September morning.

The shrill cell phone pierced the silence of the dark house. A hand fumbled to find the annoying convenience, grabbing the rectangular shape and silencing the ringer. Clearing his throat, "Yeah," he looked at the time 2:47 AM, the detective rolled his eyes and thought, "Fuck." The frantic voice on the other end was loud, scared and scatterbrained, "Whoa, whoa Green Beans, slow down. What happened?"

Quinn rolled over, covering her naked torso in a sheet, shielding her eyes when Brendan pulled the chain of the table lamp. Once her green eyes adjusted, she smiled at her husband's serious face, such a sexy beast, even when his lips were pulled into a thin line and brow furrowed. That face full of neatly trimmed beard made it better. The red head pressed her naked skin against him forcing a smile out of him, "What's up," she whispered chin on his shoulder. Brendan put a finger up, it was serious.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," he hung up with Greenly turning to Quinn, "We might have a problem."

Concezio stomped around the table waiting for the phone call. Looking at the still object every five seconds, the waiting seemed to take forever. Slumping down in the leather chair face in his hands the cell phone finally vibrated to life. An anxious look crossed his face as he answered, "Yeah?"

"It's done," the thick Italian accented voice said then hung up.

Yakavetta looked at the phone then sprang into action. Bursting into the large formal dining room where his crew was eating. The door flew open with a bang and everyone stopped turning to the boss, some with food halfway to their mouths. Crumpled in his hand was a picture of Quinn, he slammed it on the table, "I want the bitch dead."

Quinn was glad the day was over, still recovering from the phone call a week ago. Brendan was at work constantly with Eunice Bloom and the guys. A priest? Why now? And who would be that stupid? The conversation with Eunice replayed in her head.

"So this is Mrs. Duffy," the auburn agent said with a drawl, her face was pointed but very pretty. Blue eyes narrowing as she took in Quinn's appearance, circling her like prey. She turned to Brendan, "Nicely done detective," spinning back to Quinn, "Have you heard anything from the MacManus brothers?"

"No, but this," Q slapped the newspaper on the table, "was never how they operated," the anger seeping into her voice.

Eunice nodded, "I know, it's not them. But unfortunately it looks like them," she narrowed her eyes again, "I want a protective detail on her," she ordered the three detectives.

"No," Quinn said crossing her arms.

"Q, baby," Duffy his strong hands on her face trying to plead with her, "Please," eyes glued to hers.

"What about Rosie? I've tried to keep the details of what you do away from her. You think I'm gonna want someone following two steps behind us everywhere? She's a smart kid Bren, she'll figure it out. Let me see if I can get a sub for a month, take a sabbatical. I'd rather be cooped up at my parent's house than followed everywhere."

Her husband opened his mouth to protest but Bloom cut him off, "That's a better idea, get it done."

Coming from the principal's office after having granted her request for a month off for 'family issues', she picked up Rosie from the class down the hall, "Hey Red, you ready?"

"Mommy," the little girl squealed running and hugging her mother around her legs.

"Come on Rosie, let's go home."

"We're not getting Daddy?"

"Not today, honey," she said picking up the tiny girl, "Just us girls, thanks Gina," she said to Rosie's teacher being met with a nod.

Quinn carried her baby to the gray minivan, putting her in the back seat. She heard two sets of heavy footsteps behind her getting louder and closer. Heart racing, she blew out a breath and closed the door as nonchalantly as possible. She turned to see two huge Italians coming her way, guns drawn. Quinn froze at the sight, flashbacks of eight years ago raged against her memory. The smell of Chappy's foul breath as he taunted her, the pain, the torture it all toppled back on her. She braced herself against the car as best she could and pulled up to a standing position. The Italians grinned, "You Quinn Cavanaugh?"

"Who wants to know," the ginger's voice sounding braver than she was.

"Concezio Yakavetta," the taller one growled out.

That name did her in. Yakavetta's face, smiling and charming as he killed Rocco and the silent threats in the courtroom; Quinn's knees buckled. She grabbed the handle for support, "What's he want with me?"

"You testified, which means you and your brat are dead," guns leveled at her head when a man of medium height muttering in Spanish walked in between her and the mobsters. His hair was one long strip down the center and shaved on the sides. He turned to the frightened ginger and winked at her. Questions flew across her face until she saw two ghosts. The looming figures of Connor and Murphy MacManus stood behind the two Italians, guns aimed, ready and waiting.

"Ya might want ta rethink this," Connor said, voice still like music.

The Italians turned around facing down the two Irishmen they had at least 5 inches on the twins. They're face turned white at the sight of Connor and Murphy with sights set. When the backs of the mobsters turned the medium height man turned to Quinn, "Hey chica lets go."

She froze, "What the fuck is going on," she spat out in a harsh whisper.

"I'm one of the good guys, now move girl," he grabbed her arm pulling her around the van to open the door on the other side to get Rosie out.

The little girl in tears, "Mama," she whimpered out.

The red head snapped out of her frozen state, "Come on baby, it's gonna be ok," she pulled Rose from the seat into her lap covering her trembling little body, waiting for the gunshots that never came.

"Hey Q," Murphy called, "All clear."

The Mexican helped the ginger up still cradling the little girl before handing her over to Connor. Quinn stared at the Irishman, for what seemed like a lifetime. How he had changed, his face still so handsome, but rougher, weather aged. The scruff on his face had a few gray hairs. His blue-green eyes hadn't aged, still the same irreverent and youthful look. He smiled at her and the squirming child between them.

"Mama, put me down, I can't breathe!"

Quinn was unresponsive to Rosaleigh, hypnotized by her former paramour. Strong arms on hers, his smile a mile wide as he whispered, "Ya better put her down."

"Huh," she questioned before the present caught up with her, "Oh Red, I'm sorry," she put the girl down. Rose looked at her mom, wide green eyes curious about the three men she tugged at Quinn's dress, "What baby," she asked her attention pulled from Connor.

"Who is them?"

"Who are they," she softly corrected, "This is Connor, his brother Murphy and I'm not sure about the other guy."

"That's our Mexican, Romeo," Murphy called.

"Mommy, what's a…"

"Don't pay attention to that, his name is Romeo," the twins laughed loud at her dismissal. Quinn threw a look at the two of them, but couldn't help cracking a smile. She hadn't heard that laughter in a very long time. "What are you doing here," she snapped back to Connor. The look he gave her said it all. "Right the priest. Do the boys know you're here?"

"Nah, hopin' to surprise 'em," Connor grinned wider, "Still married ta him," he asked staring at the ring on her left hand then back into her eyes, awaiting the answer.

"Very happily thank you. Speaking of which I need to call him," pulled out her phone and Connor grabbed it.

"Wouldn' want ya ta ruin the surprise, Q."

Green eyes flashed a glare at him, "You expect me to," she looked at Rosie then whispered, "Lie, to my husband?"

"No, I expect ya ta come with us," his smile getting bigger by the second, Murphy and the newly acquired Romeo joined the smile fest.

Quinn heaved a sigh, "Foxtrot…"