Author's Note: Alright so this is my first Boondock Saints fic and I am extremely nervous. So please be nice. I have probably written like eight different versions of this, before deciding to give this one a shot. In fact if it weren't for my dear old friend Eminemchick19, this probably wouldn't be up now. I am not going to lie I had an extremely hard time writing this. I never knew how hard it would be to write all everyone in character. Anyway so this is an Murphy/OC/Connor in case no one knew. Please review and tell me what you think. I appreciate Constructive Criticism, not anything else. Besides if you really hate this story don't read it or review, I'll get the message. Other than that unless someone really likes it, I probably won't continue.
"No question now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which." Hope recited aiming the gun.
"Animal Farm. George Orwell." Murphy guessed without pause, "It was one of the few novels I've read of yours."
"Aye. You weren't the only one." Connor mentioned, his eyes staring directly back at Hope. "Question is though, Hope. If we've become so much like the people we've tried to rid of, then how does you killing us make you any different?"
A small sad smile twitched on Hope's lips. In all honesty she didn't know what was right or wrong anymore. Since meeting the McManus brothers, her position on justice became skewed. Then again maybe it was always distorted to begin with. But in the end it was that same warped justice which kept her sane all these years. To compromise it for two men...for love..."I'm so sorry boys." Hope murmured, tears running down her cheek. "But nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose."
They gave her one last knowing look. "Frankenstein. Mary Shelley."
And she pulled the trigger.
Hope gasped lurching forward from her sleep. Besides her two warm bodies nestled near in a protective manner. She eyed them lovingly in the dark. Her small slender fingers ran across their body admiring their shape. It had been a approximately a week since she met the McManus boys and already Hope was having difficulties staying disconnected from them. Which no one could blame her for. The Saints were a not only amazingly clever, handsome and strong, but charming as well. And though it was Hope's job to ploy the brothers into trusting her, she couldn't help but be attracted to them. She sighed running a hand through her messy black locks, "Why am I going there now? Am I capable of that? Is that serious? It is not serious at all. It's simply a fantasy to amuse myself; a plaything. Yes, maybe it is a plaything."
"Now, I didn't understand much of what ya said lass, but being called a plaything wounds me." Connor's voice came from the dark.
Hope smiled a little. "Fyodor Dostoevsky. Crime and Punishment. Though I suppose this situation doesn't really do the quote justice."
"What situation, Lass?" Murphy asked sitting up beside her.
She felt her face turn red. Even in the dark she could feel their gorgeous blue eyes staring at her curiously. Hope swore silently to herself. The McManus boys were definitely getting too close to her if she was just opening up like a book to them. "Nothing. Just a little confused that's all."
"Confused? About what?" Connor asked incredulously.
Yes, what was she confused about? Her sudden impossible love that sprang for the two of them in the past week? No that couldn't be it. She might be infatuated with them, but love was a whole different story. Maybe it was the way Connor and Murphy had reacted upon meeting her. They saved Hope from a stage raping in an alleyway near the bar they always walked home from. It appeared being in supposed hiding didn't stop the Irishmen from drinking. However it wasn't them jumping head first to save her that surprised Hope. It was the way their eyes widened, the way they looked at each other after she quoted a line from Machiavelli's "The Prince." If Hope didn't know any better, she would say that they knew already who she was.
"This. Us. Whatever we're calling it, if we're calling it anything? It's only been a week after all." Hope half-lied.
"Well, this…" Murphy leaned over to kiss her neck, "Is normally what we in Ireland call a relationship."
"Aye, is it." Connor agreed capturing her lips, "And we're…what you normally would call boyfriends."
A groan escaped her throat as the two continued their attack on her. Their lips meeting and uncovering places on her body like no man ever had before. If they continued touching her like this then she might not be able to continue believing this was a simply a fantasy to amuse herself with. With a breathy sigh she pulled away drawing their questionable eyes to her. "I'm not so easily distract as you know." Hope breathed.
"Aye, you aren't that's for sure. Most women let things go by now." Murphy said humor in his voice.
Hope cocked an eyebrow. "I take it sharing women between you two is common."
"Not as common as ya like to think. The only other gal we ever shared was Alana Townshend, and that was not on purpose." Connor admitted.
Hope couldn't help, but laugh at the thought. Murphy and Connor exchanged glances, even through the dark they could tell what the other was thinking. They grinned to themselves pulling their woman back into their hold. "It ain't nothin' to laugh about, girlie." Murphy said tickling her, "I had to find out that my brother was dating my girl for myself."
"Ya, well you're not the only one who was surprised. How do ya think I felt being torn apart from my girl by my angry twin brother."
"She weren't yer girl, Con. I asked her out before you did."
"Did not. I asked her out during recess."
"Liar!" Connor insulted whacking Murphy. In a matter of seconds Hope found herself being squished by two wrestling brothers. She let out a grunt before pushing both them off the bed. They landed with a hard thud, before looking at her surprised.
"Some gentlemen you are. Squishing your supposed girlfriend…if that's how you're gonna treat me, maybe I'm better off finding new boyfriends. Ones who don't have a problem sharing." Hope joked, smiling at them.
"We have no problems sharing. Now do we, Murph?" Connor replied as they quickly sat back beside her.
"We don't. Not when it comes to you, Hope." Murphy concurred.
"And why exactly is that?" Hope asked eyeing them, "Like I said we only met seven days ago. We haven't had sex or anything, yet you already want me to be your girlfriend. Isn't that too soon? Not that I mind, but….why?"
They looked at each other for a second before turning to her with hang dog expressions. Hope felt her breath pitch in her throat. So they weren't as enamored as she thought they were. Well so much for an easy job, she would have to pull out the big tricks now. "It's probably best that we don't talk about it, love." Connor advised softly.
Murphy nodded looking away. Hope let out a frustrated sigh standing up. She ran a hand through her hair frustrated before turning to eye one of her books on the armoire. Midsummer's Night Dream…she closed her eyes. "The course of true love never did run smooth." She recited, then opened her eyes to look at them, "Look I got it-and it's okay really. Most people who look at me think because I am nerdy looking that I'm easy game-"
"We never thought you were." Murphy spoke up, "The thought's never crossed our minds."
Connor nodded, "It hasn't Hope. Nothing but the purest thoughts about ya have ever crossed our minds-okay well maybe not the purest, but never something disrespectful of ya."
"Then what is so big that you have to hid it from me?" Hope questioned. She bit the inside of her cheek hard trying to draw tears. Men always fell for the tears. Hell, Hope was pretty sure if she cried enough, she could get Connor and Murphy to admit to being the Saints. Or at least if that was what her boss so desired of her to do. But Baxendale wasn't like those petty Italian/Russian mobsters, he didn't go after simple-he went for complex. Sure killing the pimp across the road or the drug dealer in the alley was alright from time to time, but Bax liked to set his standards higher. Hence why the Saints had him so interested. The idea of a group being so opened about something he's been doing for the past eight years intrigued him. So he sent Hope out to collect information about the saints personally and if necessary-which was more than likely…kill them.
"It ain't that we're trying to hide it, Hope. It's just that we fear ya won't believe us or worse." Connor explained.
"Or worse?" Hope pushed.
"We'll scare ya off." Murphy answered frowning, his blue eyes stared off into the distance.
Hope frowned crouching down to grab both of their hands. They were so close to telling her. And while whatever they had to say might be unimportant-it would at least tell her how much further she'd have to play them up. "I don't scare that easily. You two should know that by now." She assured.
"Aye we could tell when ya hit that rapist over the head with a trashcan lid rather than run." Murphy smiled.
"He's right. Most women run even if they're rescued by two dashing young men." Connor agreed.
"But I didn't."
"No you didn't."
"Which is one of the reasons we liked ya." Murphy mentioned.
Hope looked at him, "What is the other?"
Connor sighed, "Of mankind we may say in general they are fickle, hypocritical, and greedy of gain."
She blinked recognizing the quote. Machiavelli. The Prince. The quote she had spat at the 'rapist' as the boys beat the shit out of him. But moreover the quote that caused Connor and Murphy to look at her with the expression of realization. "Machiavelli. The Prince." Hope mumbled, "It's what I spat at the guy-but what does that have to do with anything?"
"It wasn't the first time we heard you say that quote before." Murphy admitted, "We've been dreaming of you saying it for a while now."
"About two months actually." Connor muttered, "We just never thought anything of it until…"
"Until what?" Hope pushed.
Murphy shook his head standing up. "Now that is a story for another time, love."
"But you will tell me, one day won't you?"
"Aye, one day lass. But for now just remember Conn and I aren't with ya cause we think yer a fast lay. We're with ya for something so much bigger."
Hope gave them a questioning look. Her head was spinning with so many thoughts and questions. Things were getting more and more complicated. No longer did she know what to think about the McManus brothers. Were they telling her telling the truth? Did they seriously believe they dreamt of her before meeting her? Or was it some ploy to catch her off guard? To confuse her? After all it wouldn't be the first time. She opened her mouth to speak, but Connor cut her off. "The pager's beeping Murph, it's time to go."
Murphy nodded solemnly, he leant down to kiss her. Behind her Connor wrapped an arm around her waist as his lips kissed the spot behind her ear. "Sorry, lass. But work's calling and unfortunately we can't take off no matter how sexy ya may be." Connor whispered.
"It's fine." Hope murmured, she knew who was really paging them. Agent Paul Smecker of the FBI, brilliant genius yet had never been smart enough to pick up on her trail or Baxendale's for a matter of fact. Hope couldn't help but smile a little at herself. Teasing the Agent into a game of cat and mouse would be fun. Especially when Smecker realized that he was the mouse and not the cat. "I just wish you didn't have to leave so soon."
"Trust us. Neither do we, but we'll be back tomorrow." Murphy promised, "We'll even take ya out somewhere special, won't we, Conn?"
"Aye, we will. We'll take you to the nicest restaurant we know."
Hope raised an eyebrow, "Let me guess, I should be prepared to drink the finest beer on the Westside of Boston?"
Connor smirked at his brother than towards Hope. His arm around her tightened. "Normally yes, but tomorrow we promise to take ya somewhere that's not a pub…or yer kitchen."
There was a loud beeping sound. Connor chucked the obnoxious pager at his brother, who scowled at it. They cursed inwardly at it ready to toss it out the damn window. It didn't take neither brother two guesses what Smecker or their Da had to say. Both men were probably pulling hairs trying to figure out where the brothers disappeared this time; seeing how they weren't suppose to leave the safe house for no more than an hour or two every day. But after dreaming about Hope-after meeting her, they knew there was no way she could be ignored. Even if she were proven a danger to their lives. "You better get going before your boss has a heart attack." Hope insisted softly.
"Yer right, we better." Murphy said giving her one last kiss.
Connor pecked her cheek as he stood up. "We'll pick ya up as soon as ya get off-so be sure to where something nice to work."
"I looked forward to it." Hope replied moving to let them out the door. She watched as they walked out in unison, tugging on their coats to keep warm. Her eyes followed their retreating figures until she could no longer see them. Only then did she close the door. Slowly she made her way over to her house phone. This would perhaps be the only time she could so freely call work. After tonight Hope wouldn't doubt if Smecker placed a phone tap on her wire.
The phone rang. She counted til three before hearing Baxendale's voice. "Hello?"
"They just left my apartment." Hope informed, "More than likely to go see our dear old friend Agent Smecker."
"I don't doubt it. Especially thanks to the scene you painted quite beautifully for them recently."
Hope cringed. She really had hoped Baxendale wouldn't find out about that so soon. He had a strict policy about killing people under a personal intent. But the man she killed, went beyond overdue on his need to be eliminated. "I was really hoping you wouldn't find out about that this quickly."
"How can I not? It's all over the news."
"What?" Hope blinked turning on the TV.
Sure enough her little 'project' was the first thing that appeared on the screen along with some pretty red head reporter. "Just hours ago at the a gruesome scene was discovered by local police. Thirty-three year old Dominic Santoni was found not only poisoned, but bleeding at the wrists in his apartment earlier today. His body lying in a chair of his in front of what investigators says is a quote written in his own blood from Fyodor Dostoevsky's classic novel Crime and Punishment. The quote reads-"
"I wanted to murder, for my own satisfaction ... At that moment I did not care a damn whether I would spend the rest of my life like a spider catching them all in my web and sucking the living juices out of them." Hope recited in time with the woman, "I don't understand how the police already know about this though. It normally takes them a week or so to find one of my….artworks."
"I know. Which is why I tipped them." Baxendale enlightened, "You're right the Saints and Il Duce need a bit of a tease to keep them occupied, while you delve further into their lives . Perhaps you could even be somewhat of an assistance to them-after all you know better than anyone else who anonymous is."
"Very funny." Hope muttered twirling the cord around her finger, "If you want me to kill them just say it. Cause playing this whole lovely dovey bullshit for no reason, other than to place a matching set of bullets in their brains is utter crap."
She could hear Baxendale sigh over the phone. "Hope, you've always been a strong believer in justice-in repentance- an eye for an eye remember? It what I like best about you. So believe when I say death is far too sweet of a punishment for Il Duce or for the Saints if they're anything like their father is. Besides I would think out of everyone in our 'company,' you'd understand the most. Seeing what you did to Santoni and many others. "
Hope felt her blood boil. "You're right the damn bastard deserved something worse than death for his punishment. Especially after what he did to all those poor girls- after what he did to Katya and Ophelia…after what he did to Mina…that bastard is only one of many who deserve worse than death."
"I'm not disagreeing with you, Hope. Those men are pure evil and need to be dealt with as just. Which is exactly what you need to remember when dealing with Il Duce and his sons. If they are truly evil as we believe them to be, then death would be way to easy of a punishment for them."
"No it wouldn't."
"Now where the fuck were you two fellas!?" Smecker snapped.
He tossed a file towards a bored looking Connor and Murphy. Neither one of them looked at all remorseful as they thumbed through the packet, which drove Smecker insane. It was no surprise to him that the Irish twins wouldn't contently stay indoors as much as Smecker wished. However the fact that they went missing doing Lord knows what for six hours was beyond logic. For fuck's sake they were wanted by every mobster in Boston-plus the local authority. Smecker would think such brilliant men as themselves who orchestrated such vigilantism would think more.
"What's this about?" Murphy asked, closing the file.
"Sometime yesterday a man named Dominic Santoni was murdered by a serial killer, the Feds have dubbed Anon-short for Anonymous." Smecker informed.
"Anonymous? Isn't that all serial killers?" Connor questioned in disbelief.
"Yeah, but this one likes to leave the Fed's little quotes from classic novels. Quotes that have no fucking meaning as to who he is." Smecker grouched.
"I take it you had a run at this fellow yerself? " Connor suggested.
"Back in 1994, I got on one of Anon's murder scenes. It was one of the more gruesome cases I ever seen. The man-Damon Gazzo was decapitated slowly by being hung through his ceiling raptors with razor wire. In front of him written in sharpie was a quote from Dante's Inferno." Smecker muttered, "Nel mezzo del camin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura che la diritta via era smarrita."
"In the middle of the journey of our life, I found myself again in a dark wood, that the straight way was utterly lost." Murphy translated, "But what does that have to do with him murdering the poor bloke?"
"That's what we couldn't figure out. We guesses but no real definitive answers. The quote is Dante's opening before he enters the cave into hell, where he is later convinced to stray from his path which would lead him into hell." Smecker explained, "For a while we thought it was the killer's way of saying that somehow they were doing justice by killing this guy, but it didn't make sense when matched with his earlier and later quotes."
"So what does he do? Go around quoting Dostoevsky and Dante?" Connor asked, "Doesn't sound like he has much of a life."
"Careful, there." Murphy advised, "Don't let Hope hear ya say that, she'll go ballistic. Especially with her always quoting from books and shit."
"Aye, but ya gotta admit it's rather adorable. It's like a cheat sheet to her emotions-as long as you can translate what she's saying" Connor said lighting a cigarette.
"And as long as Hope has the right quote for the right situation as she'd put it." Murphy added.
Smecker glanced at them slightly confused and slightly angered. He glanced over at Il Duece who sat in the sofa chair silently listening. The Duke already knew about Anon, having never left the safe house. In fact it was him, who suggested Anon to be the next target of the Saints. Especially since Anon didn't just target men alone, he killed innocent women just as mercilessly as he did men. A big no in both the Duke's and the Saint's book. "Now who's Hope, boys? She wouldn't happen to be the gal you spent the night with, would she?" Smecker questioned.
"What you guys got a prostitute?" Greenly's voice came.
The scrawny Irish walked into the room, his arms filled with groceries. Behind him, Duffy and Dolly followed, each wearing a look that said the same thin 'Greenly was one day going to get his ass kick thanks to his big mouth.' And by the irate looks on the McManus brothers' faces, today might just be that day. "Greenly, I suggest you shut your mouth before the saints here make you their next target." Smecker suggested.
"Aye. Whoever this Hope is, she's no prostitute. For my boys know better than help disrespect a woman, and there's no worse a way to disrespect a woman then encouraging her in such a degrading occupation." The Duke spoke.
"Our Da's right. As much as we wish, we'd never be able to live with our conscious if we slept with a prostitute." Connor agreed.
"More like Ma would kill us if she ever found out." Murphy muttered.
"That too. Side's Hope is a librarian. She fucking works at the library just six blocks from here. Nothing really dangerous if ya ask me." Connor said.
Smecker raised an eyebrow. "And you just so decided to go to a library one day-and Bam! You three meet each other? How come that doesn't sound like something you would do?"
"Hey, we're smart. Ya even said it yerself," Murphy defended, "But yer right we didn't met her at the library. Truth is we saved her from being raped-though admittedly she could probably have handle herself."
"Aye. She did wail on the guy with that trash lid of hers, after we pulled him off. Fierce little thing she is." Connor smirked.
"So what? You two just save some girl from being raped-and she what? Asks you guys to spend that night at her house? Doesn't sound like someone who was almost raped to me." Duffy mentioned.
"No it doesn't." Smecker said eyeing the boys. There was something they weren't telling. It was obvious by all the missing pieces. Plus as Murphy mentioned they weren't stupid in any shape or form. They knew better than to fall for something as dumb as Duffy was implying. No something was definitely missing here.
"Cause she didn't." Connor replied. "Hope is a lady. A smart one at that. She allowed us to walk her home that night, but that was about it. Said she'd offer us coffee, but after what happened she didn't feel too comfortable letting strangers in right then. However she asked us to join her breakfast the next day at a dinner nearby-Angelou's I think was. Pretty good place actually."
"And you two just went-without a second thought. What if she was an assassin or something-what if she is an assassin?" Dolly panicked.
Smecker looked at them reading their expressions. They knew-he knew they knew somehow…just by talking to her that she wasn't a killer. It was the only reason they agreed to go-Smecker shook his head. That wasn't right. The Saints weren't the type to feel the need to be compensated for their actions. If this woman was simply just an innocent attractive young maiden, they would have kindly declined her offer. So what was their reason to risk the chance of being caught? "You two had a dream about her didn't ya?" Noah inquired.
A surprised expression crossed their faces, while confused ones crossed everyone else's. Noah smiled, crushing his cigar in the ash tray besides him. Although he hadn't been a part of their lives for the last twenty-four years, there were some things even he knew just by looking. From the minute his boys walked in with expressions mixed with irate and mirth, Noah knew they both a special girl-though as it turned out it was really just one girl for the both of them. "How ya know that, Da?" Connor asked.
Noah's smiled widened a bit more. "Dreamt of yer mother before I met her. Never actually saw her, but I heard her voice enough to know it was 'er."
Smecker's jaw moved unsure what to make of this. Luckily for him though Greenly spoke before he could. If there was one thing Greenly could do, it was speak plainly. "Wait so you're telling us, that you guys just dreamt of this girl and poof she appeared? Isn't that kind of crazy?"
"Aye, that's what we thought. But we've dreamt about Hope, even before we got our dream from God telling us to be Saints. So it wouldn't surprise us, if our dreams of Hope were just another message from God." Murphy answered.
"But your dream was to do some great deed-you fellas sure your dream wasn't trying to warn ya or that God doesn't want you to kill her?" Duffy suggested.
Connor snorted, "Kill Hope? For what? That woman made us kill a spider for her yesterday. She doesn't have the guts to kill someone."
"That she doesn't. Plus if God wanted us to kill her, he wouldn't have us dream of little of our kids." Murphy mentioned.
"Your kids?" Dolly asked in disbelief.
"Aye, so far there's four of them: Scarlett, Antonia, Simon, and Jay." Connor listed, he gave them a sheepish look, "Murph and I didn't name them. Hope did."
"All after literary characters." Murphy mumbled, "Didn't even let us have a chance to suggest anything."
"Wow those are horrible names." Greenly nodded.
"Fuck you! Those are our kids you're talking about!" Murphy snapped. Beside him, Connor had an equally insulted look.
A sigh escaped Smecker. How the hell did their conversation diverge from a serial killer to some random woman and the saints' future children. The two didn't even have any relation to each other for fuck's sake.