Favorite Place in Boston
Because there are a criminally few amount of Connor/OC stories, I decided add to the pool. Caity's friends don't really understand why this was her favorite place in Boston.
A/N: I do not own anything related the Boondock Saints except the physical DVDs that reside faithfully in my computer and DVD player just waiting to be watched. If I did own Connor I'd be in bed with him all day and you can bet your ass I wouldn't be on FF writing about it. I realize that this is a heavily descriptive one-shot but that's the way it came into my head.
That night I walked into McGinty's was the first time I ever brought anyone with me. This time I brought my three roommates to my favorite place in Boston. Honestly, I knew the girls wouldn't like it that much. All girls came from a wealthy family and desired to spend their Friday college nights at Zan's, one of the chic local night club, but they wanted to see the bar that I spent way too much time at.
Jessica and I had been friends since high school. The blonde had longer hair then. Now it was cut to her jaw line and it curled around her face. Her deep honey colored eyes gave her an air of maturity that she actually didn't possess. She definitely dressed down than what she normally would have on a Friday night. She was just in short shorts and a t-shirt and I could tell that the haze of cigarette smoke that filled the Irish Pub was a big turn off to her, but it was my favorite place. So she sent me a reassuring smile.
Prudence and I had met earlier in my Freshman year when we were both in the university's production of Les Miserables. Pru played a sweet Cosette while I played Eponine. We hit it off right from the start. That year every time someone looked at Pru, they always said the same thing. "Why is an asian girl playing Cosette?" I would always stick up for her sand say, "Because she's a damn fine actress." Pru's almond eyes and long dark hair enhanced her beauty and she was such a true and loyal friend. She too was covering up her initial response to the pub with a smile and a small hug for me.
But it was Anita that refused to hide her distain for the place, as I knew she would. People always called my Puerto Rican friend a bitch… and it was only slightly true. But only my friends and I were allowed to call her that. Anyone else that let that word slip from their mouths about her got an earful of my Irish temper. Anita wasn't really… a bitch, she just always spoke her mind. She was sharp as a razor and judged character really well. The second we walked in the bar Anita flipped a section of her long dark hair behind her and wrinkled her nose.
"Nice place," she let out in a sarcastic, deadpanned voice. I snorted in response.
"I just knew you'd love it Nita." I said with a grin and an eye roll.
All the girls and I got along so well throughout college. We all came from similar wealthy backgrounds. My dad Charles Joyce was the director and conductor of the Boston City's Orchestra as well as the owner of the city of Boston's bank. I grew up in a very privileged household, because of my father learning a lot in the financial and musical fields. I learned classical and contemporary instruments and I found I was more artistically inclined throughout the years, deciding to go with a major in Musical Theatre Bachelor of Fine Arts, much to my parent's dismay. Although they supported music being a hobby for me, they wanted me to carry the family torch and become a surgeon, like my mother Celia.
Upon my entrance the bar's regulars released a chorus of my name. My favorite patrons sat on their same stools as every night. With a cigarette hanging from their lips and a pint of the black stuff in their hands, the MacManus brothers cheered and grinned.
I had met Murphy and Connor on my first night at the bar and we became the very best of friends very fast.
Murphy stood tall and broad in a dark black loosely fitted sweater, the arms pushed up to show off his tattoo of the Celtic cross on his right arm. The tatted Irishman had dark, almost black hair that hung just above his dark blue eyes, which held a devilish gleam in them. His lips turned up in a smirk around his cigarette. His "beauty mark," as he so often hated it to be referred to, rest just above his lips. Murphy was the more hot-headed and emotional of the two. Murph was quick with his actions and if he was pissed and you, you knew it. But it was the same the other way around. Murph was always caring. He'd wonder if my exams went alright. He'd offer to help me study too. Murphy would sit into the late hours of the night crushing beer cans and refilling my coffee cup as I poured over my text books. A swift kiss on the cheek and an, "It'll all be alright little lass," was enough to always stop me from stressing too much. Murphy and I would bicker and fight like a couple of eight years over a cookie. We always tried to one up the other on our "loving insults." Tonight, Murph's free arm was slung over the shoulder of his beloved twin.
Connor MacManus was tall and lean. Where Murph had pale, cream colored skin, Conn was naturally tanned. His light brown, almost sandy brown hair was spiked in a "devil-may-care" fashion. The equally tattooed brother smirked as his steel blue eyes grazed over me, almost calculatingly. Conn was a hopeless flirt and he loved teasing me, getting a blush every time he said something slightly dirty. He never pushed it too far but really all he had to say was "I bet yer a screamer," I would flush red as a cherry and the bar would erupt with laughter. See, Conn and Murph and even our good friend Rocco were the only ones allowed to flirt with me like that. If another man in the bar so much as looked at me in a way those three boys deemed wrong, there was hell to pay. Connor MacManus just screamed fire and heat. It was from the air of laid back smugness that completed the bad boy image. Of course I knew Conn's bad boy image was just that, an image. It was all bullshit. Conn was unbelievably sweet. He and Murph always looked out for me and got into numerous bar fight "defending my honor." Conn's bite was definitely worse than his bark, if you messed with the wrong people. But he was a sweet, caring man underneath it all. He'd make sure I never drank too much and if I ever had a problem he was the first I'd go to. He'd sit and listen and then even offer his own advice always wanting to help. Con and Murph would do anything for me and I them, it was a mutual understanding that we all shared.
I quickly weaved my way to them, tugging on Anita's arm in a silent message for the girls to follow. Quickly Murphy tugged me up into his arms and gave me a long bear hug and a kiss on the head. Connor on the other hand, pulled me into his lap for his hug as his arms locked tight around me. He planted a kiss on my hair.
"How are ya Cait? And who's yer friends?" Murph asked. I turned to face the girls and saw them walking towards one of the booths in the back as Jess gave me a look, wiggling her eyebrows. The girls laughed as they sat down and began to make themselves at home in the pub.
"My roomies. You know the ones you keep telling me to bring along."
"Ah, "Connor looked over at the girls and back at me. "Seems as if day love da place." He said with a snort.
"They'll get used to it. I told them to behave for the night." I looked around for my favorite Italian and frowned. "Where's Roc? I finally brought female friends I thought he'd already be over there panting over them."
Murphy chuckled but gave me a reluctant look, "He's workin' t'night… Job's keepin him busy." I pursed my lips together and nodded. I didn't exactly approve of my friend's ties with the Italian Mafia, but it wasn't my place to interfere. I just always gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him to be careful.
I quickly ordered the girl's favorite drinks, producing a wad of cash plus tip for my favorite bartender my hand was immediately pushed aside. Both Connor and Murphy held money out for Doc to take.
"Ya ne'er had ta pay for drinks before, ya not startin' now." Connor remarked. I sighed deeply. It was always like this with the boys. I would fight with them every time and even when my money was out first Doc would always take the MacManus' over mine. They simply refused to let me pay for myself. They would always say, "Wat would Ma tink if we let a gargeous girl like ye pay fer everytin? She'd raise Hell over bot' o' us!"
I rolled my eyes tucking my money back into my purse.
"Thank you boys."
"Very welcome, Cait." Murphy said with a grin.
"Welcome, love." Connor kissed the top of my head. "Anytime."
"You mean every time."
With a swift kiss on the cheek to both boys I slid of Connor's lap and grabbed a tray, placing out drinks on them and expertly weaved my way to the girls.
"Good God girl, I see why you like this place," Pru said eyeing me with a smirk. "You have all these men eating out the palm of your hand." I rolled my eyes.
"Shut it and take your drink," I said trying to cover up my embarrassment. Throughout the night the girls grew more comfortable, although for the most part the men stayed at the bar and we cuddled into our booth.
"So, Jess? How's your man? Mr. Fiance loving LA?" Jess immediately brightened up, gushing over her beloved.
"Yeah, Chris is killing it out there. He hasn't found an agent for his music yet, but he's making bank with his bartender job. He's saving up for the wedding." I grinned.
"Still can't believe my baby's all grown up and getting married!" I said, pretending to wipe a tear from my eye.
"It still gets me too!" She said giggling like a fool. It was infectious. We were soon cut off by a low, slurred voice.
"Fuck, I never see fine ass women like you in this part of town. What are you doin, sweethearts? Looking for a bit of fun?" The big, obviously wasted man leaned down on the table, his glassy eyes leered. His head rocked back and forth from the alcohol and his breathe smelt of gin.
My face screwed up at the smell.
"Wow. So charming." I muttered.
"I'd love to feel your soft, wet pussy-"
"What the hell?!" Anita yelled abruptly standing up. "Fuck you, asshole!" She yelled. Jess pulled her arm beside her, attempting to get her to sit back down and all I wanted was for this to stop.
The next thing I knew the drunkard was being ripped from the table and the twins were standing above him, gripping the man's collar. I looked to Conn. Pure rage danced behind his cold blue eyes, his muscles were tense and his jaw was clenched. Connor was taking slow, deep breathes attempting to calm himself down. Murphy was at his side sending the man a glare that would scare Satan himself from the seven layers of Hell.
" 'M gonna give ya one a chance to 'pologize to da lass and her friends den ya need ta get da fuck out." Conn snapped in warning, the shadows of the pub making him look downright malicious.
"We're bein generous wit dat!" Murphy spit as he towered over the man.
"Aye, dat's right. No one insults our lass. Ain't dat right Murph?"
"Dat's right, Connor. Dis guy should be tankin, us dat we jus didn't kick his ass da second he opened his fuckin mout'. Tink da best ting ta do is to say yer sorry, boy-o."
"I don't need to do a goddamned thing you Mick pricks say!" The man barked.
Connor glanced at me from the corner of his eye, almost as if asking permission. Knowing the boys love to fight when they drink and he would probably do it anyway I sighed and lifted my shoulders. Apparently that was all he needed because the next thing I knew Connor's tattooed left fist flew into the guy's jaw and the detesting man fell down immediately. Anita, Jess and Prudence just stared on in shock as I lifted my beer to my lips, shaking my head. This sort of thing happened a lot here. Murph kicked him in the ribs as Connor's hand collided once again with the intoxicated man. Murphy sent me a wink as he and Connor gripped the man's collar and led him to the back ally door.
"Conn? What are you doing?" I asked, slightly nervous. Over his shoulder Conner sent me a grin.
"Jus takin out da trash, mo aingeal." (1) As he delivered another blow to the fighting drunker. "Notin ta worry about!"
When they came back Murphy went back to the bar and playfully slapped the bar demanding a shot of whiskey from Doc, who let out a loud "FUCK! ASS!" Which left the man snickering.
Connor came and pushed himself into the booth next to me.
"Ya alright, Caity?" His eyes taking inventory over me.
"Hold on just a hot minute! This is the cute Irish guy?" Anita stared between the two of us like it was a heated match at Wimbledon. She grinned from ear to ear and her eyes danced. Connor quirked an eyebrow at Anita and turned to smirk at me. "You said he was cute not that he was this fucking gorgeous!"
"You tink I'm cute do ya, lass?" His eyes racked over me and I sigh flushing furiously which only made his smirk grow.
"And you wonder why you're nickname is Satan," I mutter to Nita. "And Connor put away your ego, I can feel it swelling from over here." I tried to make my tone serious but it only came out in an embarrassed squeak.
"Ah, lass. Don'cha know I'm jus teasin'." He swiftly leaned over and gave me a kiss on the temple. "But I do tink I deserve at least a 'hot, sexy or desirable' label, not jus cute!"
"Murphy come claim your brother please!" I yelled at the dark haired Irishman. Both Murph and his brother broke out in laughter, not to mention Jess, Pru and Anita were practically roaring because of my embarrassment.
Connor just draped an arm over my shoulder guiding me into his side.
"Ah lass, when are ya gonna drop des pretenses and run away wit me. We'll go back to Erin and make lot's o' little Irish babes!" I openly smacked his chest as laughter reverberated from his body shaking my own. "How bout seven? Seven's a good number doncha tink? Dey'd have your sexy black curls and my eyes. Your cute little button nose! Come on! Our babes would be gargous!"
"Connor you're so drunk it's not even funny!" I just kept blushing and looking and my jean clad legs attempting to shut out Nita's shrill laughter.
"Only drunk from yer sweet love."
"Connor!" I reprimanded.
It was quieter and more relaxed once the crowd dispersed and left us surrounding the bar. Nita had left with Pru and Jess not too long ago and I stayed, sitting in between my boys.
As Murphy talked animatedly with James "Bull" Inks about the latest Bruins game, I nursed my Guinness, knowing that it would be my last for the night. I felt my eyelashes flutter and I let out a small yawed. The night grew older and I knew I wouldn't last much longer in the pub.
Suddenly a warm arm wrapped around my waist and I felt myself being lifted from my perch on the bar stool. With a tiny yelp, Connor pulled me for the second time that night into his lap.
This time, he kept his left arms securely around my waist as his right held his own beer. Ne nuzzled his nose into my hair and against my neck and his breathe softly blew the tendrils of my hair. His hot breath ghosted over my neck, his eyelashes tickling the sensitive skin under my jaw. He placed a gentle kiss to my collarbone, one that was so sweet it sent a wave of shock through me.
"Vous êtes très belle. Savez-vous que?" he murmered into my skin.
A shiver ran down my spine at the foreign words that I never could comprehend. His deep voice muttering in those dialects always made my heart beat faster. I think he knew about the affect it had on me because he loved to speak in the seven other languages he knew and would never tell me what he said. It drove me insane in more ways than one.
Connor pulled up and looked at me with another bone-melting smirk and lifted the Guinness to his lips. I quickly stole the glass from his hands and a sip of the smooth cold drink before placing it back in his frozen hand.
"Girl yer gonna be da death o' me!" He set the beer down and tickled my side maliciously as I squirmed and shrilled with laughter.
"Con!" I squealed through bits of laughter and giggles. "Conn! ….S-s-s-stop! Please!" With a kiss on the cheek Connor listened. He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag before taping the ashes on the glass tray. As his fingers drifted through my hair lulling me into relaxation, I leaned my head against his strong shoulder. Connor joined in the men's conversation over hockey by slapping the back of Murph's head and laughing about how pissed Murphy had been when the Bruins took a foul.
It was in that moment that I was in my favorite place in Boston. Right in the strength and security of Connor Macmanus' arms.
A/N:
I normally don't like it when writers don't put the translations next to the foreign language because it's heavily distracting when you don't know big chunk of what the characters are saying but this time it was for a point. I did it because the OC, Caity does not know what conn says, she's kept in the dark and so are the readers but I will let you know what our devilishly good looking Irishman has to say. If the language translations are wrong, don't blame me blame Google Translate! :D
My angel- Gaelic
You are very beautiful. Do you know that?- French
Please review and let me know what you think!