I decided it was necessary to create an arc out of my Saints fics. I'm posting this chapter first, sort of a trial run. If it's received well, I'm just gonna post the rest of their "dates" all at once.
This is basically the flashback sequence from Spiritus Sancti, I just decided to elaborate more on it since it was their first meeting. I hope it's not too repetitive and you enjoy!
It was a cool fall morning in Boston. I woke up late after a night of reading Mansfield Parkfor English class. It wasn't like I didn't love Austen novels, because I did, it's just that I was also busy cooking supper and cleaning up before I had time for my studies. Maybe if I was quick I could make the bus and end up at school before mass.
Rushing through the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart, I noticed daddy's lunch in the brown paper sack on the counter. Somehow, I highly doubted I would be on time today.
At the tender age of sixteen, my mother was hit by a car that jumped the curb as she was walking home from the grocery store. That was last summer. Since then, I had pretty much been single-handedly taking care of the house while my father, Franklin McGerkin, worked long hours at Noland's meat packing plant in Southie.
Realistically, the plant wasn't far out of the way. I decided to stop by and drop off the bag of leftovers. What's a few more lashes of the ruler? My knuckles had healed since the last lashing, anyhow.
I practically jogged my way through the streets, making my way to Noland's in no time. The prospect of going inside the plant itself was just gross. The smell of raw meat could gag you if you weren't accustomed to it. I held my nose and dashed in the door, making my way to the stairs that led to dad's office, overseeing the work floor. In my rush, I must have slid on some blood or something. I dropped the sack, along with my books, and felt myself steadily falling to the cement floor.
Capable hands grabbed me before I hit the ground. His sparkling, clear eyes glowed as he smiled down at me. "Ye' oughta be a wee bit more careful, miss. Wouldn't want ta be maulin' such a pretty face." He was unmistakably Irish and painstakingly beautiful.
"Thanks." I muttered shyly. I picked myself up, righting my skirt and retrieving said items from the floor, climbing the stairs to my father's office.
"Thank ye, Angel. But aren't ye goin' ta be late?"
"I'm not late yet. If I run I might still make it. Love you, daddy!" I rushed, running back down the stairs, albeit more carefully, and dashing our the door.
CathedralHigh School was literally two blocks in the other direction, right near St Michael's Catholic Church. I was confident I could make it in five minutes, if I even have five minutes left.
"Lass!" I heard from behind me. I turned on my heels and the Irish man with dark hair and gleaming blue eyes was right behind me. "Ye rushed off without even sayin' good bye!"
"I'm going to be late for morning mass!"
"Yer already late." He said, assuredly.
I looked at my watch. "Shit." I muttered. 8:01am.
"Yer gonna git the ruler." He laughed.
"It's not funny." I mumbled, instinctively rubbing my knuckles.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shoving one in his mouth and offering one to me. I shook my head and he scoffed, putting the pack away and lighting his own. "Yer already late. Why dontcha juss spend the day wit me?"
"Don't you have work you should be doing?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Aye, but don't ye go worryin' 'bout me, lass. I kin take care uh m'self." He offered me his hand. "Murphy MacManus."
"Rebecca McGerkin." I cautiously took his hand. "MacManus, huh? My dad talks about you and your brother a lot. You all are quite the pranksters."
"Ah, me reputation precedes me, madam." He joked, taking a slight bow.
"I really need to go to class. I have exams this week."
"Well, ye want ta meet me later? At McGinty's. I git off at 5."
"I'm not old enough to go to a bar, MacManus."
He leaned in, close to my face. "I wont tell if you wont."
Twelve minutes late for mass, I received my ten lashings.
The only class I paid attention in was English, where I excelled at my dissection of Austen's work. The rest of my classes I was too preoccupied with thinking about Murphy.
In my school, everyone knew each other since we were snot-gobblers in kindergarten. There were 57 people in my class; all Irish and Italian. Of those 57, 36 were female. That left you with 21 males, of which 4 were actually considered datable. That would be Kevin O'Shey, who is dating my best friend Tracey Brennan, Bobby Calhoun, who religiously smokes pot, Aiden Mulligan, his dad's a knuckler for the Black Irish, and Sean Molloy, who tried to pants me in the sixth grade. That leaves with little to no options for dating, especially if you factor in my lack of time to get out and meet people.
So, I admit when the gorgeous dark man (he couldn't be older than 23, right?) with the gorgeous Irish brogue paid me a compliment and showed interest, I was more than curious to see what he could possibly want.
After classes, Tracy told me she and Kevin had plans and apologized for not telling me sooner. I wasn't upset, though. Oddly I was relieved. My dad thought I would be with Tracy and he was going to sleep, he had the early Saturday shift at Noland's.
I changed clothing. I shudder to think what the drunk men would have to say if I sauntered in in my school girl outfit; plaid skirt, knee highs, and all. I put on a little more makeup, tried to make some sort of effort, and walked to McGinty's before it got too dark out.
"Aye, the bosses daughter's 'ere, Murph!" Murphy's twin shouted.
Drunken arms grasped me from behind. "I was worried ye wouldn' show!" He grabbed my hands, examining them for evidence of my lateness this morning. "S'not so bad."
"I didn't come for you to tease me. I'm not really sure why I'm here." I muttered, pulling my hands away.
"I'm sure it's 'cause ye missed me, lass."
"That's it, Murph! This bonnie wee lass 'as been missin' yer face all day. An' what a fine face it tis!" He playfully mussed his brother's hair.
"Rebecca, this sack o' shit is me brother, Connor." Murphy explained.
"Sit down an' ave a drink with us, lass." Connor offered, sitting at the bar and patting the stool beside him.
"I've never…" I began, but they only nodded.
"First time fer everythin', lass." Connor mused. I took a seat beside him, the man behind the bar poured three shots of a brown colored liquid and they all looked at me expectantly, reaching for their glasses. "S'whiskey." He explained. "It'll bring out the Irish in ye, lass."
"Loosin' ye up a bit!" Murphy winked at me from my other side.
I downed the shot in time with the brothers, feeling the hot liquid pour down my throat and into my veins, burning every step of the way, I made a face that made the boys laugh. Murphy put his hand on my shoulder. "You'll get used ta it, girl."
"Another." I choked out.
"We're gonna make ye Irish, yet!" Connor exclaimed. "Ye 'eard the lass, Doc. Another round!" He slammed his shot glass down on the counter.
"Yer serious? Doesn't even make any sense." Murphy leaned over the counter, staring right at me, his head using his folded arms as a pillow. "Not even once, lass?"
"What can I say?" I was slightly more lucid from the whiskey than I care to admit. "Overprotective father?"
"Even so. I would give me left arm fer a date with ye. I guess the high school boys can't handle it." He raised his brows at me, downing another shot.
"Yer fuckin' serious?" Connor asked, coming over from the dart board where he'd been playing with the boys friend, Rocco.
"So that means…" Rocco stared at me. "Well, ye know. Ye've never…"
"Watch it, Roc." Murph said, sitting up straighter.
"Never even been kissed." I giggled.
"Ye 'ear that, Murph'?" Connor slapped his brother on the back. "Sounds like somethin' you could help the lass out with, brudder."
"Shut it Conn'!" He yelled. "Don't pay any attention to them, lass." His gaze glanced to my
The rest of the night blurred. At some point I remember Murphy twirling me and me swaying in his arms. As soon as he let go, I tumbled to the floor. That was the sign that it was time for me to go home.
"Ye sure yer Irish, lass? Ye barely kin 'old yer liquor!" Connor teased, but Murphy just held me up, supporting me protectively.
"Kin ye remember yer way 'ome, lass?" He asked. I nodded, giggling for good measure. "I'll take 'er home, make sure she's alright." He explained to the other bar patrons.
I leaned on him the entire way home, barely explaining the way to my apartment building, but clapping ridiculously when I could see it in the background. "You did it!" I praised.
"I'm sorry I kept ye out so late. Are ye gonna be in a lotta trouble 'cause uh me?"
"Not as much as you're gonna be in tomorrow." I laughed, leaning against him as we neared my apartment building's door.
"I'll manage fer meself. Somethin' tells me it's well worth it, lass." He braced his hands on either side of my face and pressed his lips gently to my own. I was lucid from the alcohol, but I remember my first kiss fondly. He was tentative and tender, but still urgent and forceful. The opposing traits somehow melded against my lips. They were still tingling from the night of whiskey. It could have very well been the whiskey causing the fireworks I felt, but I like to think it was just the unmistakable chemistry between us. I felt his tongue probing at my lips and I instinctively opened them for him, allowing his skillful tongue to massage my own, mixing the flavors of whiskey and beer, cigarettes and pure passion. I fell backwards into the door, breathlessly as he pressed into me. I lifted my leg over his hip and allowed him to grind into me as he left me speechless, my head swimming in liquor and lust.
Suddenly, he pulled back. "I think I should be goin'." He reasoned. "Yer father will be wantin' ta see ye."
"You're gonna leave just like that?" I pouted, honestly sad he was going.
"Dontcha worry. Ye'll be seein' plenty o' me, lass. I promise ye that."
