A/N I just saw The Boondock Saints one and two for the first time not but a few days go. The other night I had a dream. My dream became this fanfiction. This fanfiction became my new project. I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to correct me on anything and everything I do wrong. I will (attempt) to correctly use foreign languages. Please let me know if I do something wrong. Also know that though I find accents sexy, I will go in and out of typing them out. It does take energy to remember to change words around. Now at one point in this chapter there is a bit of French. Once I get past the initial stuff, I'm writing in English, just pretend it's French, please and thank you.

I don't own any of the Boondock Characters, however I do own Yvette Devereux. This is the only time I will disclaim, let it be known that the disclaimer holds over the entire story. Thank you.

The beginning takes place five years after Boondock Saints.

Chapter One: Parlez-Vous Français?

A young woman walked down a little dirt road in Ireland during midsummer. Night was falling and after a long day the pack on her back was weighing down her shoulders viciously. Looking about her she tried to find a decent place to lay out her bedroll for the night. That's when she saw salvation. Set a few acres of land away from her little dirt road was a nice little cottage. Perhaps they would be kind enough to lend her a roof for the night. With the hope of them being nice to a weary traveler, the young woman turned onto an even smaller dirt path and headed towards the cottage. As she walked she pulled out a small notebook from her pocket. She flipped through page after page. The booklet was filled with foreign phrases and how to say one particular word in every European language. Finding the word she needed she breathed it over and over. She found Gaelic hard to pronounce and hoped she didn't butcher it too much. When she got to the door she gave a polite little knock. Again she whispered the word to herself.

The door swung open. Before her was a large man with curly grey-white hair and a snowy beard. He gave her a questioning look and asked her something she didn't understand.

Clearing her throat she stuttered out the word, "Fr-Franca-cach?" Giving a little cough she said it again, "Francach?" The word was "French" and that was all she spoke.

The man shook his head, but motioned for her to stay put. Turning to the inside he called out, "Murphy! Connor!"

The woman heard the screeching of chairs and thudding of boots. Two younger men came to the door. She was instantly reminded of the Savior Jesus Christ at their appearances. They had long, shaggy brown hair and beards. The elderly man looked to them and said something she could only guess meant 'she speaks French and I don't.' The boys said something back she could only surmise meant 'we've got this.' As they had their little conversation, the young lady found her only way to determine the boys apart. One had blue eyes, and the other had hazel.

Hazel Eyes gave her a smile, "Qu'est-ce que vous avez besoin, Mademoiselle?" He politely asked what she needed.

She returned the smile, "Je m'appelle Yvette Devereux. Je voyage a travers l'Europe et seulement besoin d'un endroit pour rester pour la nuit. S'il vous plait?" She just wanted a place to stay for the night as she back-packed through Europe.

Blue Eyes nodded, "Oui." She could stay.

Yvette smiled and stepped into the house thanking them, "Merci beaucoup messieurs."

Elderly nodded at her and said something that his sons translated. "He says you're welcome to stay a few nights if you want."

Hazel Eyes held out his hand, "Name is Connor, this is my brother Murphy, and our da, Noah."

Yvette shook his offered hand, then Murphy's, followed up by Noah's, "Pleasure. Thanks again for letting me stay. I promise I won't be a bother. Now…can I use your shower? It has been a few days."

"Aye, follow me. It's out in the barn, but the water is warm."

"A shower is a shower, I wouldn't care if it was in the middle of the house."

He gave a laugh and pulled open the barn door, "Here we are." He pointed to the end, "Just pull the lever. There is some shampoo and soap on that shelf."

"Thank you." She tossed down her pack and opened the zipper. Fishing through it she pulled out a pair of jeans, a pair of underwear, a spare bra, and a fresh tee shirt. Standing she folded them neatly and placed them on the shelf besides the soaps. Slowly she began peeling away the few layers she was wearing. First was the dark blue sweater, next the pale yellow tee. After kicking off her hiking boots she unbuttoned and slipped off her durable jeans. She balanced on one foot, then the other to take off her socks. Pulling her long ash blonde braid over her shoulder she took out the tie and loosened the braid. She shook her hair out behind her and unfastened her bra.

Murphy hadn't left the barn yet. He had started to watch her prepare and every five seconds he was mentally telling himself to leave and stop being a perv. But he just couldn't. When he had seen her at the door she was in bulky clothes that did nothing for the figure he was seeing now. She had defined legs, which he guessed were made that way by the traveling. Those very legs led up to a nicely shaped bottom, one he couldn't keep his eyes off of. Hey, he was only human and only a man. From her rump and lovely curved hips came a tapered waist. Her arms were well shaped, but not skinny. Muscle hid beneath the light olive skin that much he could tell. However it was when she hooked her thumbs into her panties that he finally kicked up his heels and left.

Yvette pulled the lever and stood beneath the rush of warm water. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed happily. It felt great. She pumped some shampoo into her hand and slowly began working it through her hair from roots to tips. Rinsing it out, she frowned. No conditioner. Ah well. She grabbed the bar of soap and started rubbing away the dirt and grime from the last few days. Though she loved to travel, she hated, no…she loathed not getting a shower every single day. Yet she could give up a daily shower for days upon days of just walking out in the open with no real destination except away and back again. France was the greatest place in the world to her, but everywhere else held some sort of wonder to her.

When she finished with her shower she pushed the lever back up, turning off the rush of water. There was a small stack of towels a few feet away. She grabbed one and dried off. She pulled on her underwear, fresh jeans, and a new bra. Sitting down on a little bench, she pulled her hair back over her shoulder and wrung it out. Digging through her bag she found a comb and started running it through her hair. When she was sure not a single knot was left, and only when she was absolutely sure did she started to braid her waist-length hair. That done she pulled on the new tee, a pale rose red shade. She pulled on a fresh pair of socks and put her boots back on. Standing she stuffed her dirty clothes into her pack. Now that she felt loads better, she headed back to the cottage. The sun had fully set.

Walking in through the back door she saw the three men playing cards at the table. She raised a hand, "Thank you, again."

Noah raised a brow. Turning to his sons he said, "Gleoite deas, sea?"

The boys nodded and chuckled.

Yvette gave the three a look and asked, "Quoi?"

Connor gave her a little nod and a smile, "Poppa here was just complementing you. He thinks you're pretty."

She blushed, "Merci. Um…Is there a room? Or a piece of floor? I'm fine with anything."

Murphy stood, "Follow me, we've got a spare room." He led her down a small hall and into a small room. There was only a small, one person bed, a bedside table, and an old oil lamp. He swept out an arm, "Here yah go. A nice little room all to yourself for your stay."

She smiled and gave a faux curtsey, "Thank you, kind sir."

As Murphy turned to leave he caught a glimpse of Yvette's pack. There was a keychain dangling off a strap. It was a horseshoe. He looked at her, "You ride?"

Yvette looked to him then to her pack. She smiled, "Oui. A friend of mine has a gorgeous stable. I keep my mare there."

"What breed?"

"Morgan."

"Color?"

"She's a chestnut, a blonder mane and tail."

"Age?"

"Why all the questions?" She plopped down onto the bed and took off her boots.

Murphy gave her a little smile, "Because I'm curious."

She sighed, "She'll be ten this December."

He was going to say something, but decided against it. Instead he just nodded, "Good night." He left her to sleep.

Yvette looked after him as he walked away with a curious look. Shrugging, she laid out on the small bed and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep.

A/N Thanks for any and all who have read this first chapter.

I'd like to dedicate this chapter to by best friend who helped be decide a few points and ideas for later on. I love my darling Katy