My first Boondock Saints story, so take it easy on me, guys!

All rights belong to Troy Duffy, that mad genius! Sadly, I own nothing except my original character. This is purely a work of fiction, I am not using it for any moneymaking purposes, blah blah blah disclaimers. Yep.

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I'd been in Ireland for about a month now and my life was just starting to get settled in. I'd managed to locate a small apartment above the town bakery, which was torture really because all the smells wafted up into my living space and I had to fight the urge to buy them out every single morning, and I had procured a job recently at the local pub. Not a bad gig, really. My job consisted of mixing drinks, pouring beers, wiping counters, serving food and chatting it up with the customers.

I had made my home in the small village of Collinstown , County Weastmeath in the Irish Republic because I'd always been told my family came from this county by my grandpa who was very much Irish and damn proud of it! Collinstown was a good place, a farming village, with kind hearted and easy going folk so I'd found it really easy to settle in. The locals were fascinated by me because of my American accent so they would talk to me for hours just to hear me talk back, which was fine because I felt the same about their accents!

My job at the pub was the highlight of my day actually. The atmosphere was the type that everyone dreams about coming to Ireland to experience, the real McCoy. This night was no different, I was leaning onto the bar half listening to Duncan Lyons' now familiar tale of the screaming banshee that had chased him a half mile across his field, but my eyes were taking in the crowd as I nodded in all the right places to keep half-drunk young Duncan believing I was paying attention.

People watching was my favorite thing to do during the lull of the early evening and I was getting good at the names and faces of the frequenters of the Silver Vixen. There was Saoirse Reid, a young girl with stereotypical curly red hair that bounced when she moved even in the slightest, she was fun and always had a smile ready for anyone and everyone. Over in the darkest corner was grouchy old Leon Flynn, he'd lost his vision with age and being blind made him much less pleasant than he'd once been, I'd sat with him one night and heard his story so he was nice enough to me at least. Drunk and stumbling already, and it was only six in the evening, was the young and brazen William Gallagher who always had a line for any lady unfortunate enough to catch his wandering eye.

Yep, I loved it here.

The bell above the door jingled, announcing the entrance of a new customer, or in this case, two new customers. Now, this being a small farming village, I'd seen many scruffy and dirty men wander through that red painted, chipped door...but these two took the cake. They were both exactly the same height and both had matching beards that hung down to their chests and long, filthy hair that hung down almost as far. I scrunched my nose as the smell of sheep hit me and I took a moment to adjust to the powerful scent, I decided these two weren't going to be my favorite customers...

"Hey guys," I said in a friendly tone as they took their seat at the bar, I noticed then that one of them had darker hair than the other but there wasn't much difference than that. They looked up at my greeting and the lighter haired on smiled...at least I think he did, under that mass of whiskers it was hard to tell.

"Hey there, lass!" he said, and I couldn't help but smile at the happy Irish lilt, "Yer not from around 'ere are ye?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes good naturedly.

"Is it THAT obvious?" I joked. The dark haired one didn't even change his expression, it was cold and mirthless so I focused my attention on the lighter haired one because he seemed at least willing to talk. "I'm not from around here, no. Just moved over from America."

"Aye?"

"Yep! I mean...aye!" I could have face palmed myself for being so lame but the dark haired one finally made a sound that was suspiciously similar to a laugh so I felt like maybe it was worth it.

"I'm Connor," the light haired hobo-looking guy said and then nodded toward the dark one. "That's me brother, Murphy."

"Nice to meet you Connor, Murphy," I replied with a winning smile, "My name's Aby."

Connor and I chatted lively for a good long time after I'd brought them both a Guinness and then, later, a glass of Jameson but Murphy never said a word he just sat there in brooding silence, those piercing blue eyes watching every move I made like he was sizing me up.

"Excuse me, guys," I noticed a young lady waving for my attention at a booth and I went over to see what she wanted and returned moments later to refill her glass. Connor was murmuring in a low voice to Murphy and he fell silent when I came around the counter and smiled...I think.

"Ye've been a great hostess, Aby," he claimed as he plunked down a 20 Euro note, "See ye around I'll bet!"

"Bye, Connor," I called as he pushed the door open, and then much less enthusiasticly, "G'bye, Murphy."

If Murphy heard he gave no sign, but Connor waved as they walked out.

A very odd pair...very odd indeed. Wonder what crawled up Murphy's ass and died? Goodness though, those two were disgustingly filthy no matter how friendly Connor was, the sheep smell and the hair was hard to look past. But Connor was pleasant to talk to so she genuinely hoped he would come back...maybe not Murphy though.

The band marched in at 11 on the dot and the sound of folk tunes and rebel songs played on beaten up old guitars, bodhrans , flutes and pennywhistles filled the room and all thoughts of Connor and Murphy left my mind as I took a seat on a barstool to relax with a beer and sing along.

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So here's the start, let me know what ya'll think! I'll do my best to make my OC believable and not annoying or whiney or typical! Take the time and review and let me know you're thoughts! Trust me, Murphy will speak in time ;)