A lot of this is going to be dialogue. I tried to fit some discription into it as best I could. Hope everyone likes it. Reviews are welcome

(2 weeks later)

I am so stupid! XP For some reason my mind was not working when i wrote this chapter or at least my geological part wasn't! Why the hell did i think Boston was in New York? Got me. . . If you see anymore stupidity coming from me please tell me and i'll fix it! Hahahaha!

(2 hours later)

I am screwing up everything! X_X Not only did i not get the geographical stuff right, my time line is going to be screwed up. . . But! No worries! I can fix easily! *zoom!*

Connor dropped his last few cents into the slot of the payphone and dialed the number that he never thought he would dial in the next million years. Murphy ran up and stood right beside his brother, practically suturing himself to Connor's hip. Connor held the phone between the both of them, not much caring of the minimal personal space. The brothers listened for the line to pick up as the phone kept giving a grating scream they assumed was the ringer.

Neither one of the brothers was comfortable with asking for help, but Smecker was an exception. He saw what the brothers did, instead of looking andjudging like the public. In a way the FBI agent was like them, but was bound by the law, so, being a quick, smart man, Smecker found the loop-holes in the flawed system that nearly gave the brothers free reign.

"FBI, Agent Smecker speaking," the authoritative voice of the agent nearly made the twin's jump.

"Smecker?" asked Connor. O' cou'se it's Smecker, dumb-fuck'r! Who else would it be!, "It's Connor and Murphy"

There was a pause on the other line as Smeckermoved around out of ear shot of the others in the bureau.

"What the hell are you boy's doing!" Smecker hissed quietly, "I told you guys to lay low,"

Connor and Murphy phisically flinched, being reminded of a good swatting from their ma as boys was the last thing they needed at that moment, but they knew the yelling agent was only worried.

"We know, we know! But. . ." Connor paused and stumbled over the words, not sure of who to put their current situation.

"We have a bit of a problem," Murphy supplied for the both of them.

Connor looked to his brother, who gave a dubious look back and both looked at each other, having a conversation in their own wordless way, eventually shrugging as into say 'Sure, why not'

"Oh really? What kind of problem?"

Connor and Murphy could hear the muffled sounds of Smecker reaching for pen andpaper, ready to help as best he could. They both inwardly sighed. A yelling motherly cops wasn't on the top of their list with their still wired nerves bouncing around inside them.

"We're not quite sure yet,"Connor said truthfully, "But could we have a favor from ye? We need te look up someone, but we don't have a name,"

"Sure kid," there was another pause and more muffles as Smecker entered his desk, "Who's the lucky guy?"

"It's a girl actually," Connor corrected Smecker.

They heard a few clicks in the background of the phone as Smecker typed away.

"Alright. Height? Age?" the agent asked.

The Twin's shot off like a rocket. Going into details about the girl they saw in the alley, saying nothing about the earlier feeling of eyes burning the back of their head. In retrospect they actually thought the girl was quiet pretty once they got past the quiet-dark-alley-creepy-stalker part. Frankly they weren't even sure that was her, most of this was a hunch that the boys played on.

"An easy 5' 10", maybe 6 foot," Murphy told him, with Connorfollowing right behind.

"She's around 20 to 25 years old,"

"Green eyes,"

"Brown hair to her shoulders"

Finishing with there basic description, they heard Smecker trying to type as fast as the two brothers were spitting them out. They stood silently for a moment to give Smecker a chance to catch up and a chance for them to sort out what to do next. Nothing came to them.

"Any distinct feature? Scars? Injuries? What have you?" Smeckerasked, "Because, frankly boys you described half of South Boston,"

"Yeh," popped in Murphy, "She has a tattoo across her chest that says 'philesuchos' "

"There was some black bands around 'er wrists. She might have been in prison at one point," Connor threw into the mix of details.

There was silence on the other end of the phone as Smecker sat still.

Why does that sound so familiar? Smeckeraskedhimself as he tried to create a mental picture of his own.

As the agent kept scowling at the computer, hoping the answer would pop out at him, he typed in the rest of the description intothe FBI data base that kept every criminal that was prosecuted. It was the tattoo. Something about that tattoo the brothers said triggered a switch in Smeckers head and it wasn't going away until he figured it out.

The computer groan in protest as it analyzed the details of the girl, searching for the similar words to compare to different criminal rap sheets.

"Got her," Smecker popped back into action.

The brothers hopped back into life after waiting what felt like an eternity. The held the phone with heavy anticipation as they listened to Smecker read off the information.

"Lucky for you guys that tattoo says a lot more than rebellion. She doesn't have a registered name that we found, but she goes by the alias Magdalen and she's 18 years old. Maggy, here, was imprisoned for killing her father. She's out on parole,"

Connor andMurphy's hearts sank as they ran the information through their heads again. Something wasn't fitting right. Something was missing that connected everything. The girl was barely a legal adult, they didn't want to have to 'remove' her without probably cause.

"Wait a minute. I recognize that tattoo," Smecker said more to himself than the boys.

The twin's perked back up andwaited with patient anticipation as they listened to the frantic clicks of mouse and keyboard.

"Mac Laylin!" Smecker called aloud.

The brothers looked at the phone then each other as they shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Who's Mac Laylin?" Murphy finally asked.

"He's the bastard I charged for 2nd degree murder of his wife. It was almost 8 years ago. My first case and the fucker but wasn't convicted. Apparently we didn't have 'sufficant' evidence and the fucker had the best crooked lawyer in the state of Massechusetts that wriggled his ass out of death row. He has a rap sheet as long as my fucking arm! But get this, Mac is Magdalen's father,"

"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from te tree," Connor muttered, somewhat hoping that it wasn't true.

"I don't know, boys. Magdalen's last statement was 'He did it. I saw him. I saw him kill her, so I shot him' " Smecker read off.

There was another pause as all three thought about this. Now everything was fitting together, at least a little bit better, but that still left the question 'Why the Saints?' Why Connor and Murphy? But that was for later. All they knew was that they didn't have to 'remove' anyone tonight.

"Talk about karma," Smecker muttered.

"But why was she convicted if her father was the one who did the killing? That doesn't seem quite fair," Connor asked, not seeing the justice in this case at all.

"Because she shot him at home, after the trial ended and he was announced innocent. A .45 to the head does a lot of damage. We didn't know she witnessed anything at the time," Smecker pause and gave a frustrated exhale, "She never testified against him,"

I'm sorry if i'm confusing every body! I'm frankly confusing myself. I get an idea, write it down, submit it and don't even think twice about if it will fit or not! BLEH! I promise the next chapter will be better! Reviews are welcome!