McGuinty's was packed. Laughter and singing filled the air as everyone celebrated Saint Patrick 's Day. Mary was running around serving beers and flirting playfully with the male customers. But every free moment that she had was spent with Murphy who was quite pleased with the attention. Even Connor was happy, thoughts of the Angel of Death far from his mind, as he laughed and swapped stories with the other occupants of the bar.

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Sara quietly got out of bed and got dressed. She unlocked her trunk and removed her backpack, double checking to make sure all of the contents were there and accounted for. She opened the door freezing when it squeaked. Her roommate let out a breath of air and rolled over in her sleep. She made her way down the hall to the bathroom. After making sure that there was no one else in there she unlocked the bathroom window and dropped her bag outside, crawling after it. She landed on her hands and knees, waiting for a bout thirty seconds before deciding that it was safe to venture out into the night.

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It was well after midnight before Connor and Murphy finally started home. They had gone about a block when Murphy stopped and began to pat himself all over. Connor looked back over his shoulder. "What the fuck are ya doing?"

"I can't find me wallet." Murphy turned out all his pockets but other than a his lighter and a box of cigarettes his pockets where empty. "Fuck, I must have left it at the bar. I've got to go back. Ya mind?"

Connor turned around and smirked. "Now why would i want to go with ya? I think we both know ya won't be coming back. Ya left yer wallet there on purpose."

Murphy laughed loudly, "Ya know me to well."

"Yer my brother. But if she turns ya down flat don't expect me to wake up just ta let ya in the apartment."

Murphy took a couple steps backwards with his arms flung out. "It's Saint Patty's! No women can resist the Irsih on Saint Patty's day, especially when he's a MacManus." He turned around began to jog back toward the bar

"Saint Patty's was over at midnight ya fool!" Connor called after him.

"Aye, but the effects of the beer last well into the mornin'." Murphy yelled back over his shoulder.

Connor shook his head with a smile and continued the walk home. "Stupid idiot."

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"Please, don't do this. I have a wife and kids..." the man was on his knees begging.

"Shut up you no good piece of shit. You're wife and kids are the reason I'm doing this." Sara placed her gun against his forehead. "You're a no good abusive drunk. But you're not getting away with it any longer."

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Connor turned down the alley that was a short cut to his apartment. As he made his way through the shadows he heard voices. He slowed down and listened.

"What I tell you in the dark; what I whisper in your ear. Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul."

"Please don't..."

"Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell, for I am sending you forth to face the burning gates of hell and judgment."

Connor heard the familiar sound of a gun cocking. He pulled his own and took the couple of steps forward that brought what was happening into his line of sight. "Hold the fuck right there!" He pointed his gun. The man kneeling on the ground flicked his eyes back and forth between Connor and the gun that was pressed to his head. When he looked at Connor there was the tiniest flicker of hope.

"Stay out of this." The voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't think so." Connor moved around so that he could see the would-be shooter. "I not going to sit here and watch an innocent man die."

"Innocent?" the voice asked and gave a harsh laugh. "Innocent men don't go out get drunk and then go home to beat their wife and children."

"Its saint patty's, lots of men go home drunk; it doesn't mean that they are going to beat up anyone."

The shooters face turned into the light and dark brown eyes bore into blue. "I know this man's wife, I know this man's children. I know this man."

Connor faltered. It was the girl from the bar so long ago. He quickly regained his composure. "That doesn't mean that he deserves to die."

"We all deserve to die, some of us sooner than others. But I suspect that you know that already."

Connor narrowed his eyes. "Who are ya?"

Her mouth turned up in a sadistic smile. "Angelus Iussa Letum." She squeezed the trigger.

Connor flinched as the gun when off and the man's body toppled over. Only when the girl bent over and reached out her hand toward the blood that was beginning to pool did he react. "Fuck!" He grabbed her by both arms and yanked her backwards. He spun her around and grabbing both her wrists slammed her against the wall. "What the fuck it is wrong with you?" His face was centimeters from her own.

She blinked and he saw something flicker in the depths of her eyes but then it was gone and all he was left staring at was a face void of any emotion. "Get off."

He tightened his hold on her wrists and pushed his body right up against her so she was pinned completely against the wall. "No. Why did you kill him?"

"He was unworthy of life."

"Stop talking in riddles!" Connor yelled at her. He was somewhat satisfied to see her eyes close her eyes and flinch. "Now what gives ya the right to kill these men?"

"The same thing that gives you the right to do what you do. God."

"Don't pretend that ya know me."

"I know you better than you think Connor MacManus."

At the sound of his name off of her lips Connor loosened his hold. "How do ya know my name?

"Saints and Angels travel in close circles."

"I'm serious!" He pushed her even tighter against the wall. "Now answer the God damn fucking question!"

"Your Irish, your walking around South Boston carrying a gun. And your face reminded me of the sketches they show on the news. I took a wild guess. All you did was confirm it."

Connor released his hold and she slumped down to the ground, rubbing her bruised wrists. "What is yer name? And I mean yer real one."

"None of your buisness."

Connor crouched down in front of her and roughly took her chin in his hand. "My patience is wearing thin. Tell me yer name or I swear to God I will strike ya."

"You wouldn't."

"There is a first time for everything."

For the first time hesaw what he thought was fear in her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She closed her eyes and took a breath, "Sara," she looked at him. "Sara Gabriel."