Hello Readers! Lately my brain is on a complete obsessive Norman Reedus loop. I just can't stop thinking about him and my imaginations run wild with him and all his works. So, here it is. A Boondock Saints fic with an unusual OC, I hope you all will like it. Please tell me your thoughts and your opinions. I would love to hear them. Please Review. Happy Reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Boondock Saints...
Making Up For Lost Time
Chapter One
They had been told that they had a visitor that day. That wasn't the least bit surprising news to them. It was disappointing, tedious and just fucking annoying. It was either those fucking shrinks they sent to 'analyze' them and find out what made them the murderers that they were or it was those damned fucking reporters, leeches actually trying to suck something out of them to get their fifteen fucking minutes of fame. For the past eight months that was all there was to it and there was just no stopping them.
They were sick of it, but they still met them and they always got rid of them. If they didn't feel like it which was most of the time, they just kept completely silent and stared unblinkingly at their fucking 'visitor'. It freaked them out soon enough and they fled as fast as they could. The trick was always intimidation, it worked brilliantly for them.
They were taken to the visitor's room, the isolated ones with the cameras. These were only used for the dangerous criminals; there they were seated apart and had been chained to their seats. Their visitor would be only a table's distance apart and that was more than enough for them to intimidate this new bastard, chained or not.
They waited in bored detachment. They saw through the tiny glass window in the heavy steel door as the guard leered at something and from the looks of it was commenting very lewdly on it. The door opened and the guard announced and ordered sternly, "You two, behave!"
Then the same fuck-face of a guard said in a very soft, "Right this way, Miss. If you need anything, just yell out loud and we'll be in here in a flash."
There was a sweet, lilting and almost musical voice cooing out, "Thank you!"
Then the door closed and what they saw wasn't a shock or a surprise per say. It was still annoying, but at least this annoyance was somewhat pleasant to look at. She was clearly a shrink as opposed to the always aggressive like a Chihuahua, a little greasy and the perpetually hungry fox-like looking journalists. The shrinks had this calm I-am-smarter-than-you-and-I-can-rip-you-apart-by-my-sheer-intellect-alone-because-you-are-that-damned-transparent arrogance. All of the shrinks had the same look and attitude. This one had it down to the pat, except she was smiling like a fucking loon which quite frankly sent shivers down their spines. This one wasn't the doctor of the cookies; this one was completely cookie herself.
She stood there and fucking watched them, unblinking and unfaltering with a huge smile on her face. Creepy times seventeen. They tried to match her stare and remain as intimidatingly impassive as possible. They tried to hold onto her eyes and just send the message across clearly, they were murderers and she was just a lone person trapped in a room with them. They could do anything, be afraid and flee for your life. That was the message and it should have been received right.
But there was something wrong with her. Because instead of fleeing she was sending her own message onto them, lookie here, I am the crazy bitch you two are locked in a room with and oh, how much fun we will have! Two pairs of cold hard intimidating stares from two mass murdering vigilantes went unaffected when it came to those crazy glinting pair of eye-liner caked grey eyes and that did not sit at all well with one Connor McManus.
Connor couldn't take it anymore and he murmured lowly in Gaelic, completely freaked out, "Tá sí miongháire cosúil le fucking Harley fucking Quinn."(She is smiling like fucking Harley fucking Quinn.)
Murphy truly returned the sentiment and knew exactly what his brother meant. He grumbled back in Gaelic as well, "Yeah, is léir go ar iarraidh an Joker barging i le gunna a tommy fucking agus séideadh ar ár brains fucking amach agus cooes sí faoi conas uamhnach bhfuil Mista Jay." (Yeah, all that's missing is the Joker barging in with a fucking tommy gun and blowing all our fucking brains out while she cooes about how awesome Mista Jay is.)
The woman stood before them and they watched her with cold detachment and a slight apprehension. She was probably five foot seven easily; it was those wickedly tall heels on her feet that made her seem even taller. At least she wasn't stick thin; that would have only made her look even more asylum escapee crazy. She still wouldn't stop smiling like a crazy bitch.
Murphy's eyes quickly ran down her long pale and slightly muscular legs. She had to have one of the greatest pair of legs he had seen and that was undeniable. Those legs belonged on a Vegas show girl. Connor's eyes ran over her voluptuous curves, especially her generous chest and those sinuously curved hips. Perfect hourglass figure, Connor decided with a slightly dry throat. The brothers exchanged a quick look between them and they had the same statement running through their minds. The hot ones were always fucking crazy.
She tilted her head to the side, her dangerously flashing silver eyes behind those tiny glasses perched on the tip of her nose and the smile on her obnoxiously red painted mouth grew even crazier if that was possible. Then she went right ahead and shocked the hell out of them and this particular shock was one that they had never received in their lives before; that same lilting musical voice called out in a shiver inducing tone, "Tá brón orainn, buachaillí. Mista Jay bhí le dul agus roghnaigh na páistí suas ón scoil. Tá eagla orm tú dhá a bheith sásta leis liom." (Sorry, boys. Mista Jay had to go and pick up the kids from school. I'm afraid you two have to be satisfied with me.)
Connor and Murphy blanched for barely a second. The bitch was fluent in Gaelic. Connor's detached indifference melted away as he glared hard at the short haired blonde before him. He seethed out in Italian, "Lei pensa lei è così fottutamente intelligente." (She thinks she is so fucking smart.)
Before Murphy could even open her mouth to answer, the bleach blonde still smiling her crazy smile replied on his behalf and to their shock once more, in Italian, "So di essere intelligente. Ma questo non è quello che ti sta sconvolgendo, ora è vero, signor Connor McManus?" (I know I am smart. But that isn't what is upsetting you, now is it, Mr. Connor McManus?)
Connor shivered in both anger and revulsion when she uttered his name in her creepy voice. No, this was spinning a little out of control and he had to rein it in, thought Murphy as stared at her with cold blue eyes. He could hear his brother gritting his teeth loudly. He warned softly in Russian, "Не надо. Она травля нас." (Don't. She is baiting us.)
That earned a slight husky chuckle to slip out of those bright red lips. She uttered in strong Russian, "Вы оба не являются рыбами. Нет необходимости для любой приманки." (You two aren't fishes. No need for any baits.)
The tension in the room spiked. The twins could feel their tempers simmering and those awful black eyeliner caked silver eyes were just pissing them off even more. Connor growled in Spanish this time, "Ella cree que puede coger con nuestras cabezas sólo porque ella sabe un idioma o dos." (She thinks she can fuck with our heads just cause she knows a language or two.)
Her heels clicked ominously on the floor as she sauntered over to them and towards her seat. She said in complete amusement and in Spanish, "No, sé que puedo coger con la cabeza, porque yo sé más de una docena de idiomas." (No, I know I can fuck with your heads because I know more than a dozen languages.)
Okay, that poured cold water all over the Irish temper sizzling in the room. The brothers exchanged a quick and calculating look and then it came to them. She wasn't just a shrink. She couldn't be. Someone sent her and she had her own agenda other than getting a few twisted fantasies out of their heads.
It was when she took a seat that Connor growled out, the Irish brogue thick, "Who are you?"
His Irish brogue was coming out thick, and Murphy could feel his twin's frustration leaking out. The blonde woman took a seat across them, the distance between them uncomfortably small even though they had a whole table between them. The fucking crazy smile was still there and it just upped the tension in the room by two fold.
She smirked and replied in the same soft musical voice she spoke to with the fuck-face guard, "According to the prison visitor's log, I am Dr. Sarah Jones, the psychoanalyst here to study the infamous Saints of Boston."
Murphy retorted coldly and sharply, "But that isn't who you are. Who are you and who sent you?"
She put a small and silver recorder on the table and made a show of clicking a few buttons on it, all the while staring at them with her creepy eyes. Then she tilted her head a fraction to the left and said softly, "Don't look at it. There is a camera behind me above the door and you two know about it. It only gives them a visual to the room, no audio. So we are safe to talk and all of this needs to be for show."
Connor leaned in closer and seethed, "Who are you?"
There was something seriously wrong if a person wasn't scared or at least the least bit bothered when a known and acquitted serial killer is inches away from that person's face lividly questioning. So it was safe to say that there was most definitely something wrong with her. She smiled her creepy little smile and leaned in closer and while that was making Conner feel all sorts of itchy, he didn't back down from her. He defiantly looked into her silver eyes as she said with a menacing softness, "The question isn't who am I. The question is what do I want with the two of you."
Murphy could feel his brother's temper boiling over. Hell, he felt his own temper doing the same thing. But this wasn't the time nor the case to let their tempers hold the best of them. Whoever woman was they had to figure out her intentions before they let her petty and surprisingly effective tricks get to them. She had to have one hell of a backbone or at least one seriously defective brain to happily rile up two murderers while being trapped in a small room with them.
Murphy took one look at his brother and stepped in. He calmly but with a steely glare asked her, "So, what is it that you want with us, lass?"
The way her eyes had swiftly zeroed in on him, Murphy didn't quiet expect it nor could he control that reaction. Those eyes were hauntingly familiar, but the intensity in those eyes was the puzzling matter. He felt his breath catch and everything felt oddly distant from him. She held him with her eyes and he felt trapped. The more he stared at those eyes the more he thought, if only she didn't smear all that dark makeup on her eyes, she would have been kind of beautiful.
It was when she blinked her eyes did Murphy break out of their little staring match. She leaned back in her seat lazily and with the slow grace of a cat stretching, the boys couldn't help but let their eyes linger on certain parts of her body for a second or two. She looked at Murphy with an expression that could only be described as appraising; Connor thought that she was arrogant and gave his brother a look that kind of translated into, oh-thank-god-at-least-one-of you-has-a-working-brain. Connor would have been offended but he knew that his brother clever interruption had helped them open her up as opposed to his rising temper which wasn't intimidating her in the least bit. Crazy bitch.
She spoke nonchalantly, her long pale and delicate fingers drumming on the table in between them, "The world outside of this little cage is in need of a pair of Saints, it seems. So, I am asked by a few friends of yours to escort you out to where you are needed."
The blonde watched in a disturbing sort of glee as her words had caused a reaction in those boys internally as if the most volatile of chemical combustions and she loved it. There was shock, rage, disbelief, frustration, confusion, mistrust, wariness and disguised curiosity on their faces. Murphy asked her icily while Connor steamed beside him, "Why should we believe a thing you say? Why should we trust you?"
Murphy didn't know that that disturbing glee on her face at their reactions could get any more disturbing. But it did. Connor on the other hand thought that she looked like a shark when she grinned like that.
She nodded her bleach blonde head and said almost exuberantly, "Good. Vigilance, doubt and forethought are the things which get you to not step on land mines. Now, you do not need to believe anything I say, you have no reason to."
Connor scoffed at her matter-of-fact voice, Murphy oddly found that know-it-all tone kind of familiar. He shook it off, maybe he was trying to place this woman but was failing. There was no chance in hell he knew this crazy woman. So he concentrated on her.
There was a look on her face as if she was sharing a secret with them; it looked comically villainous on her heavily made-up face. Murphy paid very close attention on her next words as she continued snootily, "But you should listen to the facts that I have. One of the facts being that there is a very clever woman with beautiful auburn hair and the sassiest of southern accents who sent me here. From what I hear there are a lot of reasons why you should trust her."
There were two things that hit Murphy at the same time. The first being overwhelming shock at the mention of the sassy ex-FBI agent, followed by relief at the news of her welfare and the second thing being the swift realization of why the crazy woman's matter-of-fact tone was so damned familiar. Bloom must have rubbed off on her while they were getting acquainted however it was that they were acquainted. Connor asked more than a little flabbergasted, "Bloom? She sent you here?"
The light was flashing on her shiny pale blonde hair. Connor attention wavered on that for a moment and he thought how odd it was to find that blonde on her head to clash with her. Blonde seemed too harsh on her. He shook it off deciding that she was a bottle blonde, of course it looked wrong; it wasn't natural.
She rolled her eyes, pursed her obnoxiously colored mouth and said dryly, "That is just what I said. She had an old friend of yours with her as well. Another very clever individual, queer as hell and known to be deceased all over the world. One Paul Smecker."
There she went again, dropping another bomb on them. What was wrong with her? Crazy bitch. Murphy's mind was racing putting everything together and figuring it all out, but it was his surprisingly eloquent brother who voiced his inner turmoil and thoughts accurately with three simple words, "No fucking way."
She flashed them that crazy smirk was more as she gleefully, almost giddily assured them and explained, "Yes fucking way. He faked it. They sent me here, so their approval should vouch the authenticity of my words for now. As for trusting me, there is someone else entirely who will vouch for me."
All of this was far too unbelievable. Too convenient, too far-fetched, too crazy, too simple, bottom line too good to be true and she was absolutely batty. Murphy snorted, "Yeah, who is that, lass?"
Then she went off and did it again. She looked at him in that way again and he felt his senses numb and all he could do was look into those silver eyes of hers. A small frustrated voice in his mind whispered, why the fuck did she have to cake those eyes with that much make-up?
The way she looked at him, as if they, he and she shared a secret exclusively. Something only the two of them knew. Murphy wasn't sure if he liked this feeling. That mad look in her face, it washed away a little, leaving her face softened with delicate features, a warm smile on her lips and a glow in her eyes that Murphy swore he had seen before, he just couldn't figure out the where and how. Murphy tried, he really did, but he just couldn't tear his eyes off her.
Connor noticed the odd looks being exchanged between his brother and her. Anybody would have to be blind not to. They looked like some fucking lovey-dovey couple from some rom-com movie. Maybe the girl knew his brother, it was entirely possible. But his protective nature did not let him just ignore this. What if she was some crazy bitch like they rightfully deduced and she was out to hurt his brother? What if all of this was just a play? There were too damned many possibilities as to how this could play out and Connor knew in his gut that almost all of them were going to end up biting them in the ass. But as he knew that Murphy was a good judge of character and he was smart. So, Connor decided to trust his brother and let it be. For now.
Murphy was yanked back to reality by the crazy mask that slid right over her face once more. Her mouth widened in a seriously I-hide-razor-blades-in-apples crazy smile and she asked mock innocently, "Does the name Scrappy hold any significance to the two of you?"
She fucking knew it did. That one name brought the memories of a whole different time back to them like a fucking blizzard in the middle of the Sahara Desert. Scrappy was a part of the time in the McManus twins' lives when things were much more simpler and happier. Scrappy was the lost child they found, kept and nicknamed. Scrappy was the other child their own mother loved like her own.
It was Connor who had named the little brat Scrappy after Scrappy Doo from the cartoon. The kid was exactly like Scrappy. Connor especially remembered Scrappy even though he preferred not to think about the little tyke he had grown to love only to have Scrappy taken away from them.
Murphy was the one closest to Scrappy; Scrappy in their short time together had become Murphy's best friend but it had been over a decade since they last met Scrappy. Murphy was the only one who kept consistent contact with Scrappy via letters, even when they went into hiding in Ireland with their Da.
Their Ma was the only one who had the most contact with Scrappy. Over the years, after the twins moved to America to make it on their own and start their own adventures, Scrappy visited a few times each year and stayed with their lonely Ma, who was the closest thing to a mother, Scrappy had. So, Scrappy's very name brought out the most intense of nostalgic feelings and memories and this crazy woman had once more shocked them silent and in turmoil.
Connor snapped, "Wait a fucking minute. Scrappy sent you? What the fuck do you know about him and how the hell is he involved in any of this?"
Even Connor's harsh tone didn't seem to faze her; Murphy noticed with some disturbance that she seemed rather tickled by the prospect of Connor's agitation. Then it hit Murphy. His blue eyes widened and he felt shell-shocked. There were only two people in the McManus family who knew Scrappy's little secret. That his Ma and then him. Ma had known from the very beginning but Murphy had found out by accident once and it had changed nothing between Scrappy and him. But the fact remained that he had kept that secret from his own brother for a simple reason. Unveiling that secret would make Connor act a different way in regards to Scrappy and that would have been the worst sort of thing to add to Scrappy's already serious abandonment and neglect issues.
Murphy nervously looked at the blonde woman before him, who gave him a look so mischievous that he knew instantly that she was in on Scrappy's secret as well and was now going to keep it from Connor. Fucking hell, Connor was going to be beyond fucking pissed when he found out that his own twin didn't tell him such a huge thing when everyone from the crazy bitch to their sweet Ma knew all about it. Worst of all Murphy had been keeping this secret for years now. Fuck.
The blonde in the room smiled a coy little smile, flicking her eyes demurely at the table and said shyly, "Well you could say that I know Scrappy better than anyone in the world. As for what Scrappy has to do with any of this? Well, Scrappy just had to step in and save you two screw ups. Something about family and what not."
Connor's reply floored Murphy; he really wasn't expecting it. Connor's eyes flicked over her swiftly and he indignantly demanded, "What are you, Scrappy's girl?"
Murphy sighed a little. He couldn't exactly blame Connor. Connor had always been protective of Scrappy and when Scrappy had left the McManus household all those years ago, Connor had felt a little abandoned, even though that was not the case at all. Over the years Connor purposefully avoided direct contact with Scrappy for that very reason, but made sure to ask Murphy about Scrappy every now and then and he was satisfied with whatever vague answer he got from Murphy. Murphy wanted Connor to talk to Scrappy, but Connor was satisfied with knowing that Scrappy made sure to always visit their Ma every year.
But his exasperation at Connor's words gave away to amusement at first, Scrappy's girl? Really? Then shock, paralyzing shock hit him as he realized that the crazy woman before him knew. She knew exactly what was going on in Murphy's head because she knew Scrappy and was in on the huge secret. If she slipped now then Connor would blow a gasket. Not the right time to deal with Connor's temper tantrum when they were just days away from getting back to the world. The crazy blonde was unpredictable and she had a thing about riling up Connor so it would only logical that she innocently let the huge secret slip. Sit. Fuck.
He looked up and quickly found a way to intervene and change the topic when he saw the crazy loon of a woman staring at him with glinting eyes and a slight smile. Very discreetly she shook her head and then looked at Connor in mock-thought and replied matter-of-factually, "Scrappy's girl? Never had it put like that before. You could say that, I suppose. Oh and Scrappy has been with your mother on and off for the past years, so regardless of anything and everything, you two are in for the ass-kicking of the century from both Scrappy and your mother."
Murphy almost let the sigh of relief slip from his lips, she didn't say a fucking word. But the way she was eying him with that fanatical gleam in her eyes, he was sure that she was going to hold that fact over his head for a very long time. Fucking hell, Scrappy really had the most insane taste in friends. Literally.
Connor on the other hand, softened completely as the blonde talked about his Ma. His Ma whom he hadn't seen in years especially when they went into hiding with their Da. He bristled a little at the crazy blonde's audacity to inform them about their Ma and Scrappy like she was an expert on them. But a part of him calmed down when he thought about how it looked like. She was informing them about their Ma, whom they had no contact with for years and especially in a time as grave as this. It was her way of telling them that things were alright and Scrappy was keeping their Ma well and safe. Connor got a feeling though. Maybe all those words from the crazy lady's mouth weren't her own. Those were Scrappy's words, Scrappy's message to them. That was it.
Connor's slow whisper and lowered gaze made Murphy's heart clench and every fiber of his being resounded with empathy and the same line of thinking as his twin, "So, how is she?"
There was a surprising change in the tone and voice of the blonde before them. Everything about her softened and that mad glee in her eyes disappeared replacing it with warmth and understanding. There was admiration too in her voice as she drawled, "Your mother? Well, she is one hell of a lady. She is safe, waiting, determined and pissed. So all in all, she is just fine."
Connor was agitated at those words, comforted by her assurance but frustrated at the thought of his sweet Ma being involved in any of this mess. He scowled, "She shouldn't be involved in any of this. Who the hell brought her into this fucking mess? Scrappy?"
Just as Connor shot a glare at the blonde, her eyes took on a dangerous gleam that made Murphy shudder just a little. Her voice was all sweet poison as she uttered softly, "First of all it takes one seriously strong woman to understand and accept the kind of choices you two have made. To be completely okay with the kind of calling you two have. She has done it twice in her life, once for her husband and then for you two. She is capable of sacrificing so much for the men she loves and she does it with her head held high and with pride. So be my guest and really, do show me that you have the balls to go up against that woman and say those exact words right to her face after I get you two out. I would just love to see how she tears you two apart, limb by limb."
Her words had their desired effect, being raised by a woman as formidable as their Ma, they instantly remembered all those scary times when their Ma was truly angry at them and the way she chewed them out. This time their ma would skin them alive and as wrong as it sounds they missed their Ma so very much that even her wrath sounded like the sweetest thing on earth. Anything they would give to be in front of her, red cheeks shamed and eyes on the floor while she yelled at them profusely. Her words worked like a balm.
Murphy had a smile on his lips as his blue eyes looked warmly at the blonde before them, he acknowledged softly, "We know. She is our Ma. Stubborn as hell."
She rolled her eyes at them playfully, "You two got that stubborn streak from her, that's for certain. As for Scrappy getting her into this mess? Scrappy can never say no to her."
Connor snorted and agreed, "Yeah. Scrappy's a suck-up. If Ma said jump off a cliff, he'd run straight off a cliff without even blinking once."
A chuckle left Murphy's lips; he agreed wholeheartedly. It had been years since he had last seen Scrappy but in all the letters, post cards and packages he received he got that part of Scrappy's personality pinned down to a T. Scrappy was wrapped around their ma's finger and did everything to please her. But it was a good thing, Scrappy loved their ma like she was Scrappy's Ma; called her Ma even.
The blonde raised an eyebrow and asked dryly, "Is that so?"
Connor smirked and taunted, finally having something on the crazy woman, "Why are you asking that? I thought you said you knew Scrappy better than anyone else in the world."
She looked utterly nonchalant. She shrugged, "I want to know how you see Scrappy. Because from what I know, Scrappy isn't a suck-up. Scrappy is enchanted with your mother. Your mother really is an enchanting woman."
Murphy sighed; really, his brother was like a dog with a bone. Connor was a little bit over the top happy as he gibed, "You sound jealous."
She blinked once slowly, her heavily mascara-ed lashes fanning her cheeks and making her look a little ridiculous. She asked blankly, "Jealous of what?"
Connor had a grin on his face that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud as he laid it out on the blonde before them, "Jealous of how much Scrappy dotes on our Ma. Don't take it personally lass. No one can compete with our Ma. Girls come and go, she is the permanent one."
She shot Connor a sad look pouting her red painted lips, which had Murphy almost groaning in embarrassment because he knew that she was faking it because he knew for damn well sure that she was in on the secret. And Connor was acting like an idiot but who could blame him, Connor didn't know. She shrugged seemingly defensively, "Well then, I guess I'll have to live with that fact."
Connor looked more than ecstatic to finally get one up over the crazy woman and was grinning in his own smug glory. Ignorance was fucking bliss, indeed; Murphy sighed exasperatedly and finally got to the point, "So, what's the plan?"
The twins witnessed her flipping the switch once more. She was disturbingly good at it, switching off more one psychotic mood to another. Her voice was all smooth and crisp, business like, her heavily painted grey eyes looked like the flashing glint of a gun's barrel, "I am the contact between Scrappy, Bloom, Smecker and you two. I'll be running back and forth. Now, we have around forty minutes or so left, I'll be going over the details of the plan and you two need to commit it to your memories and stick to every last detail to the dots."
Connor went dead serious as each word escaped her mouth. This was serious business and his undivided attention was much needed, even though the woman before him was too fucking infuriating. He deadpanned, "Give it to us then."
She nodded once sharply, Murphy leaned in. Her next words left the twins feeling more than a little baffled. She really was fucking crazy, they decided as she spoke, "Before that, when you two get out of this room, you will act to be extremely furious at the bitch of a shrink you got and how she got to you. I will be leaving this room and telling all those who need to know that I have made a good start on the McManus case. There is a fake recording in this recorder. I had two guys read a fake script, complete with Irish accents, that awful filthy vocabulary and of course that infamous Irish temper."
There was a pause and it was no surprise when the twins thought and exclaimed in unison, "What the fuck?"
She rolled her eyes and explained in a practiced fashion as if she were explaining something very obvious and simple to a pair of five year olds, "This way I am always supported and approved to come back here to analyze you two whenever I want. I made it so that I am the only shrink you two have opened up to. So, if there is any change in the plan or anything more to add, I'll be back to get it all right with you two."
Murphy was stunned and Connor looked like he was just on the edge of bursting an aneurysm. The blonde was looking at them with irritated patience, waiting for them to keep up with her. Murphy had to admit, it was genius. The simple logic behind the complicated ruse. The plan had worked on the angle that the twins had created. Their absolute obstinate want of keeping everyone out of their business and lives, not letting anyone have any insight on them had been the centre of the entire plan.
It struck Murphy instantly. This wasn't this mad woman's plan at all, neither was it Smecker's or Bloom's. It had Scrappy written all over it in bright red ink. This was the kind of line of thinking you would expect from Scrappy and Murphy knew about it more than enough from all those letters and incidents Scrappy shared with him throughout the years.
Connor was still a little staggered, so Murphy responded critically, "Kind of extreme, but smart. What's on the tape?"
She tilted her head and asked in slight disbelief, "That's what you want to know?"
Murphy could understand her confusion, after all the significant part of this meeting should be the plan next, not what fabricated interview was on the tape. But he needed to know how Scrappy had it all set up. He replied dryly, "Yeah, that's why I asked."
She frowned a little and asked in a slow drawl, "You want to know what bullshit story I spun to make me appear a good shrink instead of what the plan is to get you two out of this prison?"
Bullshit story she spun, yeah right. It was all Scrappy and she was here taking credit for it. Connor snorted and Murphy deadpanned, "Yeah."
She groaned and rolled her eyes at the same time, "Fine. On the tape, Murphy talks about a good girl, Irish of course, he loved and how she was the one. Connor was in love with her as well but backed down because he loved his brother more. Then, she gets killed in a shooting. Mob affair and what not. Murphy and Connor get heartbroken. Years down the line, the incident has affected them so much they become vigilantes. There. Simple."
Connor's head was reeling and Murphy felt like he had a concussion coming. Murphy didn't know how to respond to that, so Connor stepped in all his eloquent glory, "That's the most stinkin heap of steamin bullshit we have ever heard."
She lifted a finger and explained in a matter-of-fact voice with those gleeful eyes, "Yes, but it sounds better than the other shit a shrink could come up with. You two could have been abused, both sexually and physically and have the most homoerotic relation with each other. This tape at least makes you two sound like the romantic, dashing, broody and dark heroes straight out of a women's smut book."
The twins felt sick and disturbed with that explanation but they also knew that what she said was true about the shrinks. That was exactly why they hadn't ever wanted to talk to a shrink, ever. A small hiss left Murphy's mouth, "Fuck."
She shook her head and with a uncomfortably wicked smirk informed them, "No, that's the only part not in the recording. Nothing about fucking. Only about killing, the unfairness of the world, the evil of the bad men and the sappiest spiel of lovey-dovey words about a girl named Bonnie Burke. She was a redhead with blue eyes by the way. Petite and very lively, ran a bakery."
Connor spat out, shocked and indignant, "That's fucking crazy."
She leaned in closer to Connor and Murphy couldn't help but be a little disturbed with how much this crazy woman took to riling up his brother, cornering him and taunting him. She retorted, "But it sounds acceptable and you were going to ask me about this made up girl you two fell for. Don't even deny it. You were curious with what I perceived of you two."
Murphy thought she had a point there. Connor snorted and disagreed, "People who know us will never believe a word of that shit."
She retorted uncaringly, "It isn't for people who know you. It is for people who want to figure you out to know what makes you two tick. They will finally think that they have you right where they want you, under their thumbs and on the table for their dissection. Gives them the sense of control they have over you. It's all smoke and mirrors. While they will be busy gloating, you two will disappear from right under their noses."
This time both the brothers silently agreed, she had a huge fucking point. So she knew what she was talking about. Big fucking deal. It still didn't mean that her plan was full proof. Murphy murmured, "Pretty elaborate. Think it's gonna work?"
She deadpanned, "Better than jumping head first into a den full of armed thugs with nothing but a few guns and a rope."
Connor jerked up and snapped, "Who told you about the fucking rope?"
She suddenly had a sly smile on her lips as she fluttered her dark eyelashes, "These two handsome Boston detectives."
Murphy looked disturbed as he questioned aghast, "Handsome? Dolly and Donahue? Who are you fucking with?"
She pouted dramatically, "Well, I thought they were very charming."
Connor sneered, "You probably were flirting with them to make Scrappy jealous."
Murphy really wanted to slap his forehead, but couldn't and Connor wouldn't let the Scrappy being her boyfriend angle go. This was fucking embarrassing, especially when that woman was in on the secret as well. It was like a huge inside joke. She asked coyly, "Why do you assume that Scrappy would ever fall for a petty trick like that?"
Connor replied, "I don't."
The woman raised an eyebrow and said observantly, "You thought I am someone who plays petty tricks like that."
Connor shrugged nonchalantly, although the hard glint in his eyes said otherwise, "Just making sure."
Her smile widened as she cooed in the most sickening of baby voices and then continued patronizingly, "Aww, you feel protective over Scrappy. That's sweet. I promise I won't break Scrappy's heart like you think I will. I must say, playing protective older brother suites you, Connor."
Connor narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you surprised? I have been doing it for all my life, you know."
Murphy immediately shot back irritated, "Bullshit. I am the eldest and you know it."
Connor snapped, "No, I am, you little shithead."
Murphy was full of fire and the pair were just about to get into a scuffle, "Fuc…"
But she interrupted with a sharp whip like voice, "Yes, yes. Either of you don't know who's the eldest and your mother being the ingenious woman that she is never let you know and goaded you two on. I admire the woman more and more by the second. Now that we have that cleared up and the fact that I don't give a damn as to who shimmied his way out of the dark tunnel and took the first breath first, let's get down to business, shall we?"
Murphy winced and Connor was so disgusted he was turning green, "You have a very disturbing way of putting things, lass."
She shrugged, "Well, you did call me Harley Quinn just minutes ago, don't be surprised. It's strangely accurate sometimes."
The twins nodded and waited for her to speak. She leaned in closer and spoke softly, her silver eyes were raptly watching them, "Now, first of all there are five very bad men in this prison whom you two could very easily take out on the day I am going to get you out of here. Do you want to do that or not?"
Now if she had talked about that a few minutes ago, their hackles would have been raised and they would have known for damn sure that she was here to use them to murder someone on the inside. But something curious happened and it was something the brothers never bothered explaining to anyone and knew that no one could possibly understand completely. They got that feeling again as soon as she mentioned the five bad men. That sense that they got when they knew that something had to be done. That was sole reason why they did not promptly chew out the girl for even mentioning them taking someone out.
Connor said coldly and impassively, "Depends on who they are, lass. We aren't thugs you use for your dirty work. We need to see how evil they are."
She nodded, completely agreeable, "That is completely fine. How about on the day you two do bust out, there will be your guns in your hands, you two look them right in the eyes and decide."
Murphy pointed out, looking her right in the eyes, trying to discern her, "That isn't them facing their judgment. That would be slaughter."
She shook her head and replied in a slow drawl that was a contradiction to the pure malice in her silver eyes, "Oh, no. They are very famous for the deeds they have done and trust me on this, the second you lay your eyes on them, you two will know instantly."
Murphy was taken aback for a moment or two by her reaction, but Connor jumped right in and said matter-of-factly, "This part of the plan is quickly making us lose whatever little trust we were placing on you."
She pouted and replied, "Oh, I don't want to kill any of them. But the fact of the matter is that Smecker asked me to ask you about them. Since all five of them committed crimes that are so heinous the devil himself will spit all of them back out from hell yet they sit in this safe and comfortable little cage, living their lives peacefully and happily. So I am just asking. You two don't have to do anything. Getting you two out is still the first priority."
Romeo, that was the first thought that came to twin's minds. What about him? They couldn't possibly get out of there without him. Murphy asked pointedly, watching her closely for any sign of deception, "What about our friend?"
She flipped the switch once more and this switch flipping was getting Murphy more and more uncomfortable. She let out a little giggle and sighed happily, "Yes, the charming Romeo. He is very loyal and a good friend. He's quite the colorful character; the world needs more people like him. Keeps things interesting."
Murphy winced, first Dolly and Donahue and now Romeo. Damn, she had the surest way of making him feel all sorts of disturbed. He didn't even want to imagine Romeo with her. Connor on the other hand just frowned a little but wasn't all that effected by that disturbing image of her finding Romeo of all people charming. But Connor understood what she meant. Friends like Romeo were rare and the world did need people like him more. There was another person whom Romeo some very rare times reminded him of, so the comment kind of slipped out, "Kind of like Scrappy."
Murphy thought he saw something spark in her eyes at Connor's comment. He summed it up to her being in the secret and enjoying Connor's ignorance. He didn't like it. She tilted her head and pointed out, "Is that so? Hmm…I thought you two didn't have contact with Scrappy for more than a decade. Funny how you are comparing Scrappy to the person who fought alongside with you, Connor!"
Connor pointed a finger at her face and sneered, "You don't know shit about Scrappy then, lass. I suggest you not speak of what you know fucking nothing about."
She smirked looking completely unperturbed and replied, "No need to get all hissy, Connor. I was just pointing out a small fact."
Connor's voice was low and steady but the way his eyes burned, it was meant to drill his next words into her thick skull, "Scrappy is family and he has been in contact with us consistently over the years, even if his life and ours didn't exactly meet up. Doesn't matter if he didn't charge off with us blazing guns and all. He still is the one who is working to get us out of here and caring for our Ma. We still are going to get into a fight and have a brawl over him getting involved in this and us getting into trouble. That's just how our relationship is. You wouldn't understand so I suggest you don't waste effort on that."
Murphy waited for a few moments with his breath held in, she had pushed his brother to a certain point and this time Connor's temper was rising in the uncontrollable way. The blonde woman stared right into Connor's eyes, gauging him and then she finally shrugged. The tension eased just a little as she said nonchalantly, "Fair enough. Now, about Romeo, he is going to be escorted out via a different route than yours. He'll be safe although he will reach the safe house a day later."
Murphy was actually grateful to her for changing the subject before Connor's over-protective instinct took over and he did something that would get the pair of them into solitary confinement. Murphy took to the new topic and ran with it, "So, how are we doing this then?"
She told them sharply, "The only part of the plan you two need to be concerned about is getting to the infirmary."
Murphy was confused and more than a little curious, "The infirmary?"
She nodded, "Oh, yes, the infirmary. We need you two to get into a fight where you will need stitches. A man will be waiting for you there as the prison doctor. He is our man. To be more specific, he is very closely trusted by Scrappy. He is Scrappy's partner. He will give you two supplies and you two will have to follow his instructions to the T and follow him out."
It was an odd balance of emotions the twins went through at the mention of Scrappy's partner. Half of them felt distrustful and the other half was more than ready to trust a man their Scrappy trusted. It wasn't a hard decision though, they had after all taken bigger and far more dangerous risks than this all in the name of faith and belief. If he was Scrappy's partner and in on this to help Scrappy out, then he was acceptable in their books as well. But that did not mean that they weren't wary or curious. Connor asked promptly, "Who is he? How do we know him?"
The woman smirked wide and indulged them, "He is odd. Trust me, he stands out a little. He is tall and asian, which is an anomaly in itself. He has long black hair and is very grimm. Follow his instructions accurately, we don't need you two to improvise or pull some unnatural and flashy move from a movie."
Connor spat out, insulted and a little indignant, "What's that supposed to mean? All our plans work."
She snorted derisively, "All your plans are not plans. You two just have impossibly good luck. You two made it this far because of that luck and your brilliant aim with whatever gun your holding."
Murphy really was astounded at her boldness. She didn't hold anything back, then again they had decided from the beginning of this ridiculous meeting that she was completely insane. Connor gritted out, "You don't know anything."
She was checking her nails as she replied dryly, "I know that Scrappy says you two are alive because you two must have some leprechaun as your ancestor and that little magical guy's very diluted blood has made you posses the sheer dumb luck that you two have and are clearly taking for granted. So do Scrappy a huge favor and just stick to the plan."
Murphy frowned but couldn't help but feel a little bubble of happiness in him, Scrappy didn't change a bit. That was exactly something Scrappy would say. Connor gapped at her for a moment, huffed and then grumbled out, "Fine. But you tell Scrappy that this discussion isn't over and we will have words."
She replied helpfully, "Of course. Also, one more thing."
Murphy rolled his eyes. Now, what? He asked firmly, "What?"
She deadpanned, "Scrappy says, no ropes."
Connor almost hit his head on the table in sheer frustration as he groaned out, "Again with the fucking ropes."
Murphy snorted and taunted his twin, "See, even Scrappy agrees."
Connor retorted jutting out his chin childishly, "Well, he doesn't understand how handy the rope is and how it always got our asses saved."
Before Murphy could engage in the usual banter with his brother, the woman snipped in, "Actually, Scrappy says that if you two had a concrete plan then you two wouldn't need to depend on a rope to save your asses. Your asses would be safe and sound and definitely without the rope intervening for your respective asses' welfare."
Both the brothers had a very light shade of pink creeping up their neck and their ears, but Connor quickly asked snarkily, "What does he know about our asses?"
Her reply was a slow blunt drawl, "That its scar free, un-tattooed, hasn't been whipped, spanked or fucked."
The woman was grinning like a loon at the sight of the infamous Saints of South Boston. Murphy had turned an impressive shade of red, his mouth dropped open and eyes wide. He really couldn't believe his Scrappy had said those kinds of things. It couldn't be. Connor on the other hand looked like he had been forcefully bathed in a gallon of month old spoilt milk. He scowled and sneered out, "That's fucking disturbing. Why the fuck does he talk about that?"
She shrugged but said honestly, "Might be disturbing but it's true. Ask Scrappy that after you get to the safe house and Scrappy is done kicking your collective asses."
Both the brothers nodded quickly. They would be having words with Scrappy about various topics it seemed, being involved in this mess, Smecker, Bloom, their Ma, that new asian partner, the rope, this disturbing line of talk about their asses and of course, last but not the least, this crazy woman Scrappy was now attached with. Murphy murmured, "When are we doing this?"
Her reply was curt, "Three days from now. Be prepared."
Connor gave her a confident smirk that was matched by his twin as he boasted, "We always are."
She made an odd sound, a cross between a little hiccough and a snort. Then she turned her dangerously flashing eyes at them and slowly spoke, her voice radiating a sort of menace that frankly made them go absolutely rigid in their seats, "Your past actions state otherwise. Regardless, this time all the planning is left to Smecker and Scrappy, so we know for sure that the plan will be pretty fucking solid. If there are any changes in between today and the day of action, I will be here as your shrink for another session and explain the changes to you. Also, if you two do not follow the plan through or you two mess something up because of some reckless move you two feel like pulling, let it be known that the consequences of your actions will be dealt by one very furious Annabelle McManus."
Connor for once was too scared at the prospect of their Ma's fury and at the thought of what ideas this crazy woman might give their Ma to make things worse, remained quiet and unblinking. It was Murphy who disbelievingly and irately retorted, "You can't fucking tell on us to our Ma, ye tattletale."
She smirked dangerously at them, like a shark smelling a hint of blood in the waters, "No, but Scrappy will and you two know it. Scrappy doesn't hide anything from Annabelle McManus and does everything that she says. "
Murphy swallowed hard. Connor blinked and whispered, "Well, fuck."
And just like that her switch flipped once more and she was back to smiling like a cheerful psychopath, her voice all honey as she agreed, "Indeed. Now, do we get the details sorted out or do we talk some more about your lily-white, unmarked, virgin asses and how they still remain so in the prison?"