Hey, so another one shot that follows the last one. I really should be studying for my exams but Murphy does not like that idea.

Yeah, I do not own The Boondock Saints nor anything related to them.

Tatty bye. Leave your opinions, I don't bite


-And ye are the most irresponsible lass I've ever met in me whole life! The hell were ye thinkin'? Runnin' away like that, bloody mess ye made, I tell ya'. Keep still woman.

The distinct voice of Connor instructed but Beth could not be still, at all. Her breath was coming out in sharp, painful gasps and her skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, the adrenaline long gone. Still lying in the grass she could feel her head pounding and pulsing along with her left arm that was being probed by the idiotic brother of her boyfriend. Could she even call Murphy her boyfriend still?

-Can ye walk? – he asked and she nodded. She heard him mumble something and next thing she knew Connor wrapped his strong hands around her waist and yanked her off the ground, no finesse at all. She winced but he paid her no mind as he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders to steady her.

-Christ on the cross – shrieking, she felt herself be lift up into the arms of the man – 'M not going to drop ye. Stay quiet for a moment, will ya? Bet Murphy will be pissed when he sees ye.

-Hmm, I don't… - Elisabete stopped for a moment, trying to gather her jumbled thoughts. No such luck. - I can't…keep my eyes open… - she whimpered and he squeezed her lightly.

-Don't do that… Can't fall asleep when ye have a head injury, I guess. - he said to her when she closed her eyes again and moaned in pain.

Shifting again between realms, she vaguely heard a door being opened and loud voices booming around her. Warm fingers caressed her cheek and gripped her head, painfully accessing her injuries, she believed. Relinquishing the hold that consciousness still held over her, Beth slid into darkness again.


Murphy was white with rage after she left him alone in the room, barely aware of the small conversation she was having with his brother downstairs. When he heard Connor leave the house, he thought nothing of it. He was probably going to meet one of his many female acquaintances. Fuming, he descended the stairs to go outside and have a smoke, a much needed one. He grabbed a beer in his way out, almost emptying it in the first gulp.

That woman was a massive pain in his arse that he was sure of. But it was the only woman he wanted; curse her charm and her loving ways. And of course, he loved her. Lord's name. He would have to apologize, for the sake of his sanity and their relationship.

He saw a figure in the distance, slowly approaching the house. Frowning he took the last drag of his cigarette and tossed it to the floor, putting it out with the heel of his boot. He took his time approaching the figure, until he noticed who it was. Taking into a full sprint, he stopped to take a good look at what was in front of him.

-What the fuck? – he growled, taking the few steps that separated him from Connor that was carrying his woman. – Elisabete?

- Shut yer damn trap and help me Murph.

He saw her turn her head gingerly in the direction of his voice and then he noticed it. He breathed hoarsely at the sight of the blood that was running from her head and down her cheek towards her neck. His hands cupped her face and he desperately tried to warm her cold skin with his fingers, all the while checking her injuries.

-Giv'er to me. – he almost hissed, getting a hold at her and feeling her slump against him a few moments later. – Call a doctor. We're in the goddamn middle of nowhere, call Doctor Farrely he lives in the farm a few minute from here.

Connor took a deep breath that kept him from lashing out at his brother and did as he was asked, watching by the corner of his eyes as Murphy carried Beth upstairs to their room.

Murphy still didn't know what had happened but had a feeling that damned bike of hers had finally gone to hell. She was in no better state, small bleeding cuts all over her arms, jeans ripped and bruises already forming in her pale skin.

-You silly nit – he whispered, pressing a wet towel to the deep cut in her forehead- You uncoordinated, silly woman. Just wake up so I can strangle ye.


The sound of the bedroom door closing firmly shut woke her up. She blinked and tried to see in the dim light. Once her eyes had cleared, she noticed a familiar figure walking towards her.

-Murphy? she whispered and she could see his blue eyes shining in the darkness. Shifting in the large bed, she had to close her eyes again, trying to conceal the throbbing pain in her body.

The man looked from her face to her bandaged head and clicked his tongue before he stepped closer. He took the wet cloth that sat in the table rest and carefully wiped the few drops of dry blood in her cheek. His fingers lingered a little bit and his eyes stared at her face before his hand slid up her arm towards her neck. His gaze fell from her wide brown eyes to her slightly parted lips and he bit his lip in thought.

-Are ye still mad at me? He murmured, - Shouldn' have said those things to ye. His eyes flicked to her eyes again and she blushed, turning her face away ashamed of her appearance.

-Common' Beth, forgive me. I'm a fuckin' dumbass, I know. Just thought ya wouldn' love me anymore if ye knew what I did with Connor. Jesus Christ, woman. Me ma will kill me if ya leave me. I'll never hear the end o'it.

She blinked a few times as his fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck,

- You are a stupid, crazy ass Irish pain in my butt, Murphy I was never mad at you. - Elisabete whispered as his hand fully cupped her neck and pulled her closer to his face. His warm breath mingled with hers and suddenly his lips were pressed against hers in a firm kiss.

At first his mouth remained closed against hers, a simple kiss that wasn't supposed to evolve into something else. But, as we all know, reconciliation is always a nasty business when it comes to reacquaint with one another. As much as both were enjoying this, Beth moaned in pain when his forehead collided with hers and she reluctantly had to tear her lips away to groan. Murphy's eyes flashed with concern and he tried to back up into a standing position, only to be pulled back to the bed by her.

-Leave me and I'll tie you to me with a rope, don't know how I'll do that but I promise I will.

He gave a sigh of resignation and laid his cheek on top of her shoulder, his eyes heavy lidded and swimming in suppressed lust. Elizabete ran a hand in his growing hair, untamed but still soft to the touch, stopping a moment before gently massaging the spot in his neck where his tattoo was.

-We still have to talk about Boston.

-Aye – he murmured, burying his nose on her hair – And ye still have 'ta tell me what happened to ya.

She nodded, sinking into his embrace, being lulled into sleep by the pain medicines an the scent of Murphy.

-Tomorrow.