A/N: This is my first foray into The Boondock Saints universe. The boys just won't leave me alone. ;) This takes place pre-canon, circa 1997 ish...and it will probably edge into the first film plot slightly. I appreciate any constructive feedback and I hope y'all enjoy. Please note there is some attempted sexual assault in this chapter, be cautious if that is a trigger.
Connor turned around and called to Murphy, "Move yer ass Murphy! We got out of work 3 hours early and it's payday! There are pints to be had and yer stoppin to smell the fucking roses!"
"Look! I found another one!" Murphy caught up to his brother and held up a Polaroid. "This is the third one in as many blocks...maybe its a treasure hunt or somethin?"
Connor rolled his eyes at his brother. "The only treasure I'm interested in comes in a bottle marked Jameson's."
Murphy silently tucked the photographs into his coat pocket as they continued on their way to McGinty's. They were cutting through the alley behind the entrance to the bar when Murphy found a pile of Polaroids scattered on the ground.
"Ok now its just fuckin' strange. Lemme see those." Connor grabbed the photos from an incredulous Murphy.
"Who's Indiana Jones looking fer treasure now, brother?" Murphy chided as they both looked through the photos.
The photographs were definitely not from a treasure hunt. There were moody black and white cityscapes and street scenes from the neighborhood. Murphy smiled at the small details the artist found beauty in-the reflection of a woman fixing her makeup in a store window, the neat rows of produce at the farmers market near the docks. There was even a stunning color image that had been manipulated to look like a painting.
"These are beautiful. Wonder who dropped them...surely they must be missing them." Murphy mused as he placed the photographs in his coat pocket, fished out a cigarette, and lit up.
As they started to exit the alley, both heard a muffled scream and a crash from the far end. Murphy threw down his smoke. The brothers locked eyes and silently agreed to investigate. Rounding the corner of a grouping of dumpsters, they saw a man with his back to them holding a knife to a girl's throat. She was pinned to the wall and he had ripped her shirt, exposing her bra.
"Please! Don't do this. You can have my wallet. Take the film and sell it...just don't..." her voice trembled. A slap across the face stopped her mid-sentence.
"You're not in any position to be negotiating, bitch!" her assailant sneered as he began rubbing against her. She fought back as much as she could with a knife at her throat. She was physically overpowered and Connor's heart broke as he saw the fight begin to leave her eyes.
"Give me a good time and I might let you live..." he laughed as he reached for his belt buckle.
Murphy made eye contact with the girl and held his finger up to his lips, nodding in the direction of his brother. She held his gaze and nodded slightly as she started struggling against her attacker again.
The brothers took the moment he was fumbling with his belt to attack from both sides of the dumpster. Murphy barreled into him, knocking the knife away from the girl's throat as Connor delivered a right hook to his jaw, the blow sending him flat against the asphalt. "Not so tough now are ye?" Connor growled. Murphy picked up the knife and sliced the man's cheek. "If we ever see ye again, we'll not hesitate to kill you." Murphy kicked the man in the stomach before he got up and ran off, holding his face and stomach.
The girl had sunk down to the ground, hugging her knees to her chest as she stared into space.
Murphy knelt down so he was at the same level as her.
"Are ye hurt, lass? Anything besides scrapes and bruises?" he asked.
As her eyes locked with Murphy's, he saw the adrenaline and fear were giving way to shock. He kept his movements slow and deliberate as he reached out to touch her arm gently. "Let's get you out of this alley, love. I'm Murphy MacManus and that's me brother Connor. I promise we'll not let any more harm come to ye."
Her gaze softened as the fear left her body. "Thank you both. I'm pretty sure you saved my life. I tried to reason with him. He... he just came out of nowhere and pulled me into the alley. My name is Blythe."
Connor looked at her with a small smile. "A very pretty name for a very pretty lass. Full of joy and light is appropriate for a photographer, wouldn't you agree brother?"
Murphy nodded as he removed his pea coat and offered it to her. She noticed the state of her clothing and immediately pulled it on. It was warm and smelled comforting, a hint of tobacco and something masculine. He bit at his cuticle nervously as she whispered "Thank you." to him. She was so embarrassed that she had failed to notice how exposed she was. The boys had kept their eyes above her shoulders.
She blushed and returned Connor's small smile with one of her own. "Impressive. Not many people know what my name means. My joy tank might be a tad empty given the past few days I've had. This is just the icing on the cake to a series of unfortunate events I'm afraid. I'm two tragedies from a hit country song." Murphy let out a small chuckle beside her.
Connor motioned to Murphy to help her up. "Sorry to hear that, lass. You can tell us all about it over a friendly pint or two. Drowning your sorrows with a couple of fine Irish lads is bound to change your luck fer the better."
Murphy helped her stand and Connor grabbed her bag. Murphy held her by the waist as they made their way into Mc Ginty's. They were there way earlier than normal, the only people in the bar were Doc and two of his regulars that usually spent the day drinking their pensions.
"Connor! Fuck! What are ye two doin here so early in the day?" Doc stuttered out in surprise at the twin's early arrival.
Connor ducked behind the bar and explained what had happened- them getting out of work early, Murphy finding her photos on the street, and hearing her in the alley. "What I cannot wrap me head around is how blatantly she was attacked in the middle of the day, Doc. If we hadn't 'eve walked by when we did..." Connor's face turned hard as he trailed off.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways, Fuck! Ass! C-Connor. Maybe she was brought to you for a reason. You two go on 'n take care of her. There's a first aid kit in the kitchen. Fuck! I'll get her some ice." The older man squeezed Connor's shoulder.
Murphy led her to a large circular booth in the back of the bar. She stumbled a little as she scooted into the center of the space. Murphy slid in next to her, leaving her some space so she didn't feel crowded. Blythe looked at Connor speaking animatedly to the older man from behind the bar.
"I hope he's not upset you two brought me in here all banged up. It could be bad for business." she said.
Murphy shook his head vigorously. "Not at all, lass. Doc's a good man. He's like the Da we never had. We practically live here. He's upset you got attacked in the alleyway behind his bar in broad daylight. Also, he has tourette's... so ye might here him yell obscenities here and there. He means nothin by it."
Murphy pulled a cigarette out and tapped it on the table. "Do you mind if I smoke?"
Blythe shook her head and gave him a small smile. "Not at all. I'm fascinated by the ritual of it."
Murphy shrugged and lit up. Blythe watched as his cheeks sunk in with every pull of the cigarette, cataloging the angles of his face. He would be a great portrait, she thought. They both would be.
"Doc will get you some ice for yer face, lass. We'll get ye fixed up in no time." Connor said as he returned carrying a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey. He deposited the items on their table and went back to the bar for the bowl of ice and a couple of clean bar towels. When he returned, he mischievously pulled three shot glasses out of his coat pocket.
He scooted in on the other side of Blythe, effectively trapping her in a MacManus sandwich. Instead of feeling panicked like she thought she would, it actually made her feel safe. Connor poured three shots and handed one to his brother and one to her.
"Now then! What shall we toast to?" Connor raised his glass and looked around the table.
Blythe looked at the two brothers who had rescued her. Holding her glass up she said, "To those who do the right thing when nobody is watching." and downed her shot. Both brothers looked visibly moved by her words.
Murphy cleared his throat, "To those who see beauty in unexpected places." he said as he downed his shot looking at Blythe. She felt herself being pulled into his intense blue eyes.
Connor was the last to go. "Well it's hard to top either o'those, but I'll do me best. To getting out of work early...and to pretty lasses who take pretty pictures..." Connor winked at her and tipped back the shot.
Blythe felt a rush of heat to her face- either from her injuries, the whiskey, or the intense looks both Mc Manus brothers were sending her way. Suddenly she wanted to dunk her entire head in the bowl of ice sitting in the middle of the table.