AN: So, this is the original story that I had created for Blaise. The FULL story. Blaise had come about on a very old RP forum over 10 years ago. She was created because I needed an OC who wasn't a cop, wasn't a mobster and could get involved with the Saints. There is romance but it wasn't my fault in the first place, I didn't start off as Connor in the game, and the person playing him latched on to Blaise to stop a Mary-Sue from ruining the rest of it. And then it spiralled from there. Eventually, I ended up playing Blaise, Connor, Duffy and Rocco. Prepare for character death. This will be a long one and might take a while because I am piecing together what I remember from the forums because they are long gone now. :sigh: I miss these days of frivolous RP bliss. Ha ha!

So, enjoy. The story is crazy and I wish that I could thank all the people who helped play the characters but alas, we have all fallen out of touch.

Slainté!

-Shazzy

Saints of South Boston

-Backstory-

They had seen her for the first time in church. It was years before the fateful Saint Patrick's Day with the Russians. They were still good boys... Relatively good boys then. Devout and pious, and still working the meat packing plant, they made a point to go to Mass every Sunday.

She looked younger than they were, but not by much. Connor had noticed her first. She was mesmerizing. He had never seen a girl that stood out the way she did.

He nudged his brother as they stood listening to the prayer and offering the proper responses. Murphy turned his darker blue eyes in the direction that Connor had indicated.

Her hair was more red then, and longer, dyed a rich red that was clearly not a naturally occurring shade. It was tied back with a ribbon and curled slightly in loose ringlets. She was wearing a green dress that looked like something out of a medieval film. It was made of a wool-like material and had a corset of a shimmery, lighter green material over top. She was a bit shorter than the MacManus brothers and she never looked their way. From her profile, they could see that her eyes were a striking aqua blue, her skin was pale and she wore no makeup. She was standing next to a greying man, dressed in a police uniform.

"Her Da'?" Connor hissed.

Murphy shrugged. "Or her boyfriend." He whispered back.

They weren't afraid to talk during Mass. They sat near the back for just that purpose. Connor had to resist the urge to punch his brother. The girl was intriguing and he wanted to find out who she was.

Nature has a law that dictates that once you notice someone, you will always notice that person, whether you want to or not. After the service, as they stepped outside to smoke, Connor couldn't help but she her again, chatting amiably with someone from the congregation. The man she had been with was nowhere to be seen.

"Jus' go talk to her then." Murphy sneered, his usual sarcasm evident in his voice.

"Na'ah." Connor replied watching her as she shook hands with the woman she was talking to. "She wouldnae gi'e us the time of day."

"Your loss." Murphy chided.

But he saw her again after anyway.

They were haunting their favourite pub, McGinty's. It had been their drinking hole since they were old enough to drink. Hell, if they were gonna be honest, they'd been slipping into the pub since before they were old enough to drink. Doc never called them out on it. He was like family and they'd spent more than one night acting as barkeeps, bouncers and janitors, depending on what Doc needed.

Connor and Murphy were sitting in a booth in the back corner, listening to their friend Rocco go on about how he had been pulling jobs for the local crime syndicate, and drinking Guinness.

Connor was not paying attention to his friend. He was smoking and watching the patrons of the pub through narrowed eyes. There was a larger police presence than usual in the pub, and Rocco's boasts of working for the mob were sure to get attention if he was too loud.

And then he noticed her.

She'd been sitting there with the cops for at least an hour and he hadn't noticed. She'd put her hair up in a high ponytail and had changed into a zippered hoodie and jeans, blending in with the other patrons. She was drinking a Guinness, while everyone else seemed to be drinking rye or scotch. She was talking rapidly and listening to the group of older men, the cops, as they told stories. She had a notebook and took notes when something particularly interesting caught her attention. She didn't drink much, Connor noted, her Guinness stayed relatively full as the shots of Scotch and Rye were refilled over and over. She nodded tersely as the jovial nature of the men she'd surrounded herself with turned serious. She took her notes and talked quietly with them.

"Connor, ya listenin'?" Rocco asked loudly, his words slurring through the drink.

Connor blinked and turned his eyes back to his dark-haired Italian friend. "No." He admitted.

"Fuckin' figures." Murphy sneered.

His brother was drunk too, Connor realized.

Murphy nudged Rocco. "Connor saw himself a girl earlier, but didnae have the balls ta talk to 'er." He smirked. "Probably busy thinkin' about wha' he woulda said an' regretting that he didn't."

Rocco chuckled and made a slurred comment that Connor didn't catch and Murphy laughed in response.

Connor frowned and stood from their table, grabbing his drink as he walked away.

Murphy called a sarcastic comment behind his brother.

Connor crossed the small pub and walked right up to the group of cops sitting around the table with the girl.

"Buy y' boys a round?" Connor offered.

Murphy's jaw dropped when he saw the girl and he muttered a curse about women in general in drunken German under his breath. Rocco blinked stupidly and lit a cigarette.

Connor was instantly taken in by the group of cops, a little alcohol to grease the wheels never hurt. He was all smiles and manners as he was welcomed and introduced. He excused himself to get the drinks as the girl followed.

"An' who in th' hell are you?" She demanded as Connor ordered the drinks.

Connor flashed her a smile. He was pleased as punch to hear the lilting Irish accent to her low voice. She didn't strike him as overly girly. Feminine yes, girly, no. He instantly liked her.

"Connor MacManus, at yer service." He replied, offering his hand.

She looked him over skeptically. He paid special mind to her eyes on the tattoos on his arm and hand, the cross and the deep blue Latin word on his index finger, while keeping his crooked grin firmly affixed to his face.

Cautiously, she took his hand. "Blaise O'Malley." She offered with a huff. She narrowed her eyes. "Where 'ave I seen you before?"

Connor shrugged, not willing to admit that he'd noticed her at mass. It seemed stalkerish and he wasn't ready to risk scaring her. "In here, likely." He said as the drinks were placed on the counter. "Thanks, Doc." He added to the elderly gentleman behind the counter.

"I was w-w-wondering when you two would t-t-talk." Doc said with a smile. The man had Tourette's and a stutter. It made conversations with him interesting.

Connor and Blaise exchanged looks.

"What's that s'pose ta mean?" Blaise asked with her own crooked grin. Her aqua eyes betrayed a lust for mischief and Connor suddenly felt out of his depth.

"I've seen you both in here for a-a-ages." Doc said. "Fuck!" He twitched. "Ass!" The Tourette's had given him the most amusing tic. "Just play nice, Connor. Her Da' is a cop."

Blaise leaned over and kissed Doc's cheek. "You tell all my secrets." She scolded, earning a laugh from the older man. She picked up a tray from the bar counter and began placing the rocks glasses on the worn plastic. "Let me help." She offered.

"What are you doing o'er there?" Connor asked, nodding towards the group of police.

"Research." Blaise replied, picking up the tray with practised ease.

"For what?" Connor asked.

"I'm a writer." Blaise explained nonchalantly. "They tell me stories and give me information for my books."

"Y' published?" Connor asked further, carrying a glass in each hand.

"Aye." Blaise replied. "But we'll talk after. This'll be the last round fer th' boys."

Connor nodded dumbly as they took the drinks back to the police officers, earning a cheer and a clap on the shoulder for Connor.

In the corner, Murphy smoked a cigarette, and fumed. He was feeling the first pangs of jealousy. He and Connor were inseparable. Always had been. He'd never seen anyone come between them, especially not a girl.

"Yo, Murph, you okay?" Rocco asked suddenly, as if he was attuned to his friend's thoughts.

Murphy shrugged and continued to glare at his brother.

Rocco followed his gaze to where Connor was sitting with his new friends.

"Who's the girl?" Rocco asked, swaying in his seat.

"Tha's the one he saw earlier." Murphy growled. "Why is she here of all places? She's Catholic. She shouldn't be here..."

Rocco looked at Murphy through his shaggy chestnut hair. He ran his hand over his face to get his wavy locks out of his eyes. "Aren't you Catholic too?" He asked.

"S'not the same." Murphy drawled. "She's a girl. Girls don't drink in here... like... ever." He frowned. "An' she's a cop." He accused bitterly.

Rocco looked at the girl in question. She was laughing at something one of her friends had said. He noted that Connor looked at ease within the group, no hostility, and no animosity.

"She doesn't look like a cop..." Rocco mumbled. "She's too..."

"Girly." Murphy finished the sentence as he lit another cigarette.

"I was going to say young." Rocco offered.

Murphy waved his hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter." He grumbled. "Why is he sitting with her?" He asked rhetorically. "What makes her so damn special?"

"She's new." Rocco said with amazing clarity. "And she seems interesting."

Murphy growled again.

The drinks were finished quickly and the cops began to depart. Most had work the next day, and some had come straight to the bar from their latest shift. Blaise said goodbye to each man individually, shaking hands and smiling. She paid special attention to a single grey-haired cop. She kissed him casually on the cheek and he spoke briefly with Connor, shaking his hand, before nodding and placing a hand on Blaise's shoulder. He departed with a wave to Doc.

Finally, it was her and Connor sitting at the table. She tucked her things into her canvas bag and mumbled something to Connor. He nodded and he stepped over to the bar, carrying the stack of empty rocks glasses. She followed, as Connor went back to the table, and she chatted with Doc for a long moment, nodding and smiling. She handed over money to cover the round Connor had offered to buy, and procured four Guinness on top of it. A remark from one of the regulars at the bar made her laugh and she bought the three men still slouched over the dark wood a drink each.

Connor watched her from his chair, elbow resting on the table and hand against his lip. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She was intriguing. She was intelligent and quick-witted. She didn't care what anyone thought of her and she spoke her mind. She was unlike most of the girls Connor had met. She genuinely seemed like someone who he could get along with.

Connor stood as she returned from the bar, carrying the tray with the glasses of the thick, dark beer. She'd had one all night, nursing the same drink the entire time she'd chatted with the cops. He nodded towards the table where Murphy and Rocco sat chatting quietly and smoking. The corner was awash with the blue haze from their cigarettes.

Murphy looked up first. "What's all this then?" He slurred.

Connor shifted uneasily. He could tell Murphy was pissed off and drunk.

Blaise didn't even blink. She set a glass in front of Murphy and a glass in front of Rocco.

"M' name is Blaise." She said with a grin as she handed Connor his own glass. "I thank y' boys for lettin' me borrow Connor 'ere and I bring y' drinks as a peace offerin'."

Murphy stared up at her through narrowed eyes, he didn't quite trust her, or like her for that matter. But she was apologizing, kind of.

"You a cop?" Rocco asked thickly.

Blaise laughed merrily. "Naw. M' Da' is though." She said. "The grey haired one who sat next t' me all night, that's m' Da'." She narrowed her eyes. "Why? You gonna do somethin' illegal?"

"Maybe." Rocco shot back, flashing his big grin.

Blaise laughed. "Well, as long as I don' see it, we should be fine." She said agreeably. "So, can I join you?" She asked finally.

Rocco scooted over, closer to Murphy so Blaise had a spot to sit. Blaise didn't complain, she slid easily into the booth next to Rocco, leaving Connor to sit across from her.

Connor shot a dirty glance at Rocco but sat anyway, taking a long draught of his beer.

"So what are you then?" Murphy asked.

"I'm a time-travelling cyborg sent from the future to warn you boys that your mission has been compromised and you should come out with me tomorrow night instead." Blaise replied, in a perfect deadpan.

Murphy blinked in surprise and sat up straight. "The fuck?" He asked, shooting Connor a glance.

Connor shrugged, Rocco was laughing quietly under his breath.

"I'm a writer." Blaise informed Murphy with a shrug and a drink of her beer. "However, I would actually love it if you'd join me tomorrow night."

"Working..." Rocco said glumly.

Murphy stared at Connor, knowing perfectly well that his brother was chomping at the bit to accept. He sighed. "Fine." He agreed with a nod.

"Slainté." Blaise replied, holding her glass up in a silent toast.

Murphy wrinkled his nose in reply.

Blaise had left after buying another round for the boys in the corner.

Rocco left next, leaving the twins to stare at each other across the small table as Doc ushered the other patrons out.

"Fuck off." Murphy sneered as soon as they were alone.

"You're just jealous." Connor shot back, lighting his final smoke for the night. "She ain't a bad person, Murph."

Murphy scowled. "I ain't jealous." He mumbled.

"Right." Connor agreed. "You haven't got a thing t' be jealous over anyway. S'not like we're together."

"Y' met her Da'." Murphy shot back. "S'as good as bein' a couple."

Connor laughed and rested his head against his hand, smoking lazily. "Your mind must be a jumbled mess. Y' sure y' haven't knocked summin' loose?"

Murphy glared.

"We're joining her tomorrow." Connor said matter-of-factly.

"Fine, whatever." Murphy agreed reluctantly.