Author's Note: Happy Boondock Saints / St. Paddy's day!

This oneshot is sure to be riddled with typos because I got a bit too tipsy when I was supposed to be writing it yesterday. So I had to finish it today and I'm pressed for time so no editing was done.

Picture cousin Merkin as being played by Aaron Paul and enjoy! :)

Normally it was a stiff rod poking into her flesh that woke her in the morning. Or depending on the day of the week, rancid hangover breath. But that morning it was a gentle shaking of her shoulder that roused her out of a blissful sleep. She ignored it, faking slumber until a huff was heard and she could feel the weight on the right side of the bed leave. Until she felt the other body to her left begin to rock lightly in the same manner hers had.

She heard a grunt and then an irritated growl before a smack sounded through the loft and she heard Murphy let out a surprised "Ow".

"I swear if ya don' stop yer gunna get a punch right in tha shamrocks." Connor threatened groggily, blindly swinging out when he was shaken again.

She suppressed a snicker at that. She now knew how her parents felt when she'd come barging into their room at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning when she was a child.

"Uhn-uh." she nasally groaned when it was her turn to be shaken again.

She brushed him off, turning over and snuggling into Connor's back under the thick pile of blankets and comfortable warmth.

"Muuuuuurrrph." she whined when that warmth was stolen away and the blankets were snatched off their naked bodies, Connor's curses joining her sound of dislike.

She tried curling into Connor for more warmth, tucking her legs up against his back, wrapping her arms around her upper half. Resigned to stay in bed a little longer despite her shivering.

"Cumon, get up! It's St. Paddy's Day!" Murphy exclaimed, dropping all subtlety as he began jumping on the bed, bouncing them fully awake.

When the Murph-quake finally stopped she felt a foot and a hand sandwich in between her and Connor. Another set could be felt sinking into the mattress on the other side of her body, making her picture him crouching over her. She cracked open one eye with a raised brow only to find the giddy Irishmen an inch from her face before he creepily whispered "It's St. Paddy's Day." with a huge smile stretching across his face.

His genuine excitement was endearing and a little bit contagious she found as an unintentional smile snuck onto her face. Murphy just couldn't help himself. The holiday brought back memories of home. And the crisp winter air was losing it's bite, making everything feel fresh and lively.

"Aye, tit tis me wee lepra'chaun." she laughed with a bad brogue imitation while tickling Murphy along his sides, making him squirm and collapse on top of her.

Morning kisses were much appreciated until they became a little too heated, making her turn her face away.

"You'd better get off me if you want me to finish cooking all this gross food in time." she chided him, smacking a wandering hand away from her chest.

Murphy's small smile widened at the mention of what she'd consented to do for him on the day he deemed about as sacred as the twins shared birthday. He'd never be able to thank her enough for it.

"Ya got tha whole list from Ma? Right? Did ya make sure Connor got ya everythin' ya need?" he animatedly began pestering, moving clumsily to yank on sweats and let her get up.

"He forgot the kale for the coolac- colaca-whatever." she sighed as she sat up at the bed's edge, bracing her elbows on her knees to run her hands over her sleep crusted eyes.

"Colcannon." he corrected, launching her pillow at his half asleep brother.

She rolled her eyes as she layered on mismatched clothing to fight the loft's draft, some of which wasn't even hers. While Connor bitched up a storm and began a pissed off game of tug of war with Murphy for the blankets.

A growled "M'ther fucker!" was heard when the darker twin gave up his grasp to follow her to the toilet, making the lighter fly back into her headboard.

"So ya r'membered tha cottage pie, an tha mush pees, an-" he began hyperactively only to be interrupted, having no problem discussing food while she took her morning piss.

"And the soda bread. And the lamb stew for lunch. Yes Murph. And I already know you want honey glazed corned beef and Connor wants his regular with cabbage. I know. I remember." she broke in as she folded a length of toilet paper, proving she'd been listening to every detail he'd provided about the traditional feast their mother cooked back home.

"Is he going to be like this every year?" she asked the glowering blonde as she flushed and headed towards the kitchen sink to wash her hands.

"E' will if ya keep fuckin' spoilin' 'em." he grumbled, trying to get comfortable enough to drift off again.

When Murphy made to go fuck with Connor some more for that remark she started bulldozing him towards the open doorway and into their loft.

"I know you're excited but let him sleep a little more. He's a complete queen if he doesn't get good rest. You don't want him grumpy and bitchy-faced all day do you?" she reasoned, bribing him with a cigarette and an open chair at the boys kitchen table.

She was mentally noting how thankful she was that she had two stoves and ovens to work with when she heard him asking about breakfast over the clatter of pots and pans. Her sharp look at him having the gall to foolishly expect breakfast to be cooked too made him look down bashfully. She was prepared for this though, knowing Murphy well enough. A purposely ironic box of Lucky Charms was sat in front of him before she headed towards her refrigerator. His eyes bulged wide and he looked like he was on the verge of happy tears when he spotted black pudding on a plate in the hand opposite the one carrying milk.

"Your mom told me how much you love these. I just about shat myself when she told me the main ingredient was pigs blood." she added with a disgusted face, watching as he happily devoured three of the little sausage patties cold before she had a chance to heat them.

His muffled "Thank ya" sent bits of meat flying onto the table as she returned from retrieve him a bowl and spoon for his cereal.

"Thank Connor too when he gets up. He helped me make them after you fell asleep last night." she told him sternly, her face changing as she remembered something and sat beside him.

"Speaking of shitting myself and your mother." she began, pausing to snatch up his discarded cigarette from the ashtray.

"I had to fake losing the connection when she asked me which one of her sons I was shacking up with." she informed him after taking a deep inhale, watching as he stuffed his mouth to prevent having to talk about that subject.

"That's what I figured." she muttered, shaking her head at him. "I don't blame you, she scares the shit out of me too.

"But I'm sick of being afraid to answer the telephone every time it rings. It's time for you two to man up and tell your mom that you and your brother are fucking the same woman." she asserted, flicking an ash into the nearby tray.

Something similar to "am a man" was heard through his bulging mouthful of cereal. A dribble of milk running down his chin and into the sparse hairs on his chest made her look at him flatly in mocking disagreement.

"I'm not saying you have to do it today but it needs to be done soon." she told him softly, moving to roughly kiss his temple and get a jump on the stew he wanted for lunch.

Connor woke to the delicious smells of native Irish food. Which made him sleepily think for half a second that he was back on the emerald isle before he opened his eyes. When he did he took in the sight of clothes everywhere all over the bedroom and sunlight streaming in through the industrial windows telling him it was his natural time to get up.

While his brother was a morning person through and through he definitely was not. A fact that was plainly evident on his face as he trudged into the conjoined loft they'd converted into the designated kitchen and living room. His ratty robe was pulled around his frame a little tighter as he threw himself down into a chair opposite Murphy and a shiver ran through him.

"Coffee?" she inquired, taking in his miserable bed ruffled appearance as he lit his morning cigarette, moving over to the pot when he grunted in the affirmative.

The half empty bottle of Bailey's Irish cream liquer was shoved his way when he made for one of the many bottles of whiskey hidden through out the loft.

"Little early for Mr. Jameson to come out and play, don't you think?" she pointedly asked, replacing one bottle of booze with the other, not giving him a choice.

At his cranky snarl of "Quit mothin' me woman." she rolled her eyes, joining them at the table now that she had time to indulge in the box of marsh-mellowed cereal. Connor declined her offer of making him a bowl as well, unable to stomach food after he'd just woken up.

"So what's tha plan?" he asked two cigarettes and three cups of spiked coffee later, his bad mood evaporating as it was replaced with a light buzz.

Normally he was the one on top of everything, getting all the details and plans in order. But on St. Patrick's day Murphy reigned king in the planning department.

"Go down an get drunk while we watch tha St. Paddy's parade. Then we're gonna come back here an get drunk some more so she can cook supper. Then after we eat we'll head ta Doc's." he surmised with a proud grin, keeping it simple.

"Won' 'ave a very good spot this year since 'm not out there savin' a spot fer yer ass an freezin' mine off." he commented, dumping a bit more Irish cream into his coffee.

"Murph has Roc and your cousin Merkin out there saving us a place in exchange for feeding them lunch." she explained, tilting her head towards the massive pot simmering on the stove and talking through a mouthful of milky mush before she swallowed.

Connor was intrigued to hear that their cousin had arrived on a freight from Ireland just the night before last. Said cousin was one more reason why she was adamant that the boys come clean with their mother about her. Merkin was good fun albeit hard to understand when he spoke. But he was a horrible gossip and would surely spill the beans about them as soon as he returned home. Maybe even sooner once he found out if there was a telephone around for him to call his aunt Annabelle.

"An what're we gonna do while she cooks all yer food. Jus sit 'ere an watch 'er?" Connor asked lamely, not keen on doing exactly what they did in their mother's kitchen every year back home.

"Nah, thas tha best part." he beamed, knowing his brother would particularly enjoy this part of their day. "They're airin' tha Leprechaun movies on TV half an hour after tha parade ends."

Connor's nod of approval was interrupted by a gasp. They both looked at her when her spoon clattered against the glass bowl from being dropped as well.

"Hell no." she protested, eyes wide with terror. "I went to go see the first one in theatres because it had Jen Aniston in it and that evil little fucker gave me nightmares for a week. I don't even want to hear his fucking voice!"

She looked genuinely petrified which was the only thing keeping the boys from outright laughing at her.

"Don' worry lass, we won' let tha evil Leprechaun getcha'." Murphy cooed, leaning over to rub his hand over her thigh reassuringly.

"Aye, we could never let anythin' happen to ya, yer our little pot of gold." Connor quipped, leaning in to attempt kissing the scowl off her face.

After they were showered and decked out in green they made their way down to the pre-determined parade spot. The boys towing a beer-filled cooler between the two of them, her clutching the back of their pea coats as to not get lost in the crowd.

"I can already hear 'is mouth." Connor noted with good humor, looking over to his delighted brother.

Merkin O'Donnell mirrored his cousin Murphy in spirit and personality with a bit of quirkiness that was all his own. But he looked more like Connor as far as family resemblance went except for his hair being a true golden blond and his eyes being green.

When they finally reached their destination an even rowdier commotion broke out at the sight of the twins. All their closest friends from McGinty's were there dressed for the occasion but Merkin took the cake. He was bare chested with Ireland's flag colors running evenly down his body from head to hips in three lines of paint.

Once hellos were said and manly hugs were given all around the boys parted, shoving her to the front like they were presenting their most prized possession.

"An whicho' ma basterd cousins does this fine litl lass belongta." Merkin asked, bringing her in for a hug.

She stepped back into place between the boys, elbowing each in the ribs before hooking her arms through theirs. They both struggled to find the words, each beginning sentences that never finished.

"Both of them." she answered for them eventually, pinching them through their coats for chickening out.

"Ya mean.." he gestured between the brothers, trying to figure out if he was just too drunk to hear her correctly.

When they both confirmed it with nods of their heads their cousin looked a bit green around the gills for a moment and his mouth dropped open.

"Yer ma's gonna kill tha boltha yas" he assured them once he got his bearings and he was done catching flies.

That comment sent Murphy off on a rant, making him threaten to cut Merkin's shillelagh off if he dared breath a word of it to their mother. He agreed to keep his trap shut, still looking between the three of them in awe and slight disgust before his expression changed and he looked as though he'd come to a conclusion.

"Ya two're 'appy right?" he asked, getting "yeah"s and "of course"s in answer.

"Den fock it, fock anyone 'oos gotta pr'blem wit it! Welcome ta tha fam'ly lass!" he bellowed, getting behind the relationship with conviction, pulling her in for another rough hug.

Beers were cracked open in celebration and the parade began shortly. The sound of bagpipes and Celtic music filled the air and everyone was in good spirits. She was enjoying a group of river dancing girls dressed in traditional costumes as they jigged past when she felt Murphy hug her from behind. His hands rested on either side of her on the metal street blockade in front of her. The boys took turns doing so, keeping her warm as the crisp pre-spring air whipped around them.

As they became more intoxicated they became more comfortable being themselves with their woman in front of their cousin. Kissing her freely when a 'Kiss me I'm Irish' button was thrown from a passing float and caught to be pinned on her jacket. Taking turns stuffing their frigid hands down her shirt to make her squeal. Joking about putting some Irish in her later that evening.

Watching Boston's parade with the boys had been quite the experience but by the time the giant shamrock balloon passed that signaled the end, they were all half frozen. Even with the helpful alcohol in their systems to keep them warm. The crowd had Murphy worrying about missing the beginning of the first leprechaun movie until Merkin got to organizing them. He took the lead, yelling for everyone to link hands before he began barreling through the crowd. Murphy came up second with her wedged between him and Connor. Rocco took up the rear with the empty cooler trailing behind in his free hand as they all charged through the masses. Thanks to Merkin's unabashed rudeness they made it back to the loft with a few minutes to spare.

She kept herself busy in the other room washing dishes and ladling out bowls of stew that reeked like rotting garbage so she didn't have to listen to the television. But she was begrudged to find that they intended to eat in front of said box and she was forced to join them.

'O'ly shite, tastes jus like yer ma's." Merkin commented, giving his complements to the chef in the form of vigorous slurping.

When the boys hummed in agreement she rested easy, relieved the disgusting smell was natural and that she had done a decent job of imitating their mother's cooking.

"I know." she sympathized when Rocco gagged on his fist spoonful.

They looked at each other, in harmony in their wishing for something pasta-y and covered in tomato sauce. After stomaching half a bowl each she hurried away hers and Rocco's, desperate to get away before the three foot tall bane of her existence made his grand entrance on the screen. At commercial her kitchen was invaded with pleased Irishmen looking for second helpings before she was left alone again to begin the preparation for cooking dinner. She had enough to do that she was spared from watching the first movie but as she layered the mashed potato topping on the last shepherd's pie she knew she wouldn't be so lucky with the sequel.

"Tha lep'rachaun's lookin' fer a bride, get in 'ere missy!" an inebriated voice called out as the second movie started.

"Go fuck yourself Merkin!" she yelled back, adding that she was going out to pick up the kale for the colcannon.

Once she returned she really had no other option than to sit alone in the kitchen. She trudged into the living room sourly, pushing aside empty beer cans littering faded red carpet as she walked over to where the twins were on the two-seated couch. Glancing over she could see the little bastard yanking a gold tooth from a bum's mouth on the screen. With a deep sigh she flung herself onto the boys laps, resting her head in Murphy's and her bent legs in Connnor's. She knew it was just a little person actor in makeup but she still jumped here and there, making the beer Connor kept resting on her thigh spill. Her reactions proved to be more entertaining that the movie itself, making them all laugh at her. Murphy stroked her hair and Connor laid a comforting hand on her hip, hoping to lessen her anger at their enjoying her fear.

Murphy disappeared once into the other room claming to be taking a piss but taking far too long for that to be the case. She thought nothing of it until Merkin and Rocco had been shooed away by the twins around dinner time with promises to meet up again in an hour at McGinty's. She noticed one pie in particular had a slit in the top and Murphy was particularly adamant that she eat that one.

"What did you do to it?" she demanded, suspiciously poking the top with a fork as though she were afraid Murphy had rigged a leprechaun to come popping out of it.

"Nothin' jus eat it." he insisted, watching intently as she glared at him and then took a cautious portion of it on her fork.

She sniffed it, making the boys look at each other and laugh a little. It tasted fine, actually pretty damn good in her opinion so she let it go, thinking Murphy was just drunk and trying to get another rise out of her. Until she dug deeper and spotted something shining beside a piece of carrot.

There at the bottom of her shepherd's pie was a ring smeared in gravy.

"What the.." she whispered, fishing it out with her fork to inspect, looking up at the boys in horror before she realized what kind of ring it was and not the other she was thinking of.

It was a silver band with two hands holding a crowned heart shining back at her through the goo. She caught something inscribed on the inside, looking up at them with a questioning expression when she realized it was in Gaelic.

"Choimeádaí ár gcroí." Connor recited clearly, affectionately taking her left hand in his.

"Means 'Our hearts keeper'." Murphy murmured softly, taking the ring from her to clean it.

"Ya know tha rules of tha claddagh ring lass?" Connor inquired as Murphy slipped the ring onto her right hand with the point of the heart facing her wrist.

"Kind of." she mumbled, her eyes filling with tears of happiness at receiving a promise ring from her men.

"Tr'dition says that if ya wear it on yer right hand with tha heart pointin' towards ya it means yer heart's been captured an yer taken." Murphy stated, bringing her ringed hand up to kiss.

She got up to hug each of them, tears spilling over as she thanked them.

"What're ya cryin for lass?" Connor questioned with a laugh, reaching over to rub her back.

She laughed too, looking from one of them to the other as she dried her tears on her shirt sleeve.

"It's just been the best St. Patrick's day I've ever had." she offered lamely, knowing the boys had a certain level of tolerance for mushy lovey dovey stuff.

"Well thas because ya've never had a MacManus St. Patrick's day before." Murphy told her with a grin, leaning in to kiss her before giving Connor his turn.