Mother of the Mountain
Castle, Beckett, and O'Leary were enjoying a few well deserved drinks in a secluded booth at Molloy's. A local Irish band was playing and the entire pub seemed to be having a marvelous time downing their pints and heartily singing along , until the door to the pub brought the entire scene to a stop.
O'Leary was tensing to stand and investigate the sudden noise when they heard a woman's loud bellowing Irish brogue from the doorway.
"Where is he? Where's me boy hiding?"
In that instant, O'Leary stopped moving to rise and instead did everything a massive mountain of a man could do to hide from a voice he apparently recognized very well.
"Sean Patrick Seamus Pilbeam O'Leary, you come out here this instant!" the older woman's voice bellowed, and every single Irishman in the bar - regardless of age - cringed, O'Leary included. By the look in his eye it was clear he was hoping his side of the bench, which barely contained his massive frame would somehow swallow him whole.
"Kill me," O'Leary mouthed at Beckett, but she shrugged her shoulders.
Castle moved to look, but Kate elbowed him in the ribs to prevent him from twisting around the massive movable mountain's ample shoulder to see who it was. He would not have to wait long to satisfy his curiousity, however, as the source of the loud, bellowing Irish brogue rounded the corner to reveal the tiniest adult redhead Castle had ever laid eyes upon. Rounding out no higher than four feet eleven in her sensible shoes, she would have been dwarfed by his own daughter in socked feet.
"You were supposed to be at the fittin for your tuxedo three hours ago" she shouted at him, and the massive mountain of a man who could make even the mightiest criminal tremble in fear bowed his head.
"But ma," he said with none of his usual self-assurance behind it, "I have a perfectly good dress uniform! Making a monkey suit fit me would..."
"Nothing made me prouder than when you took after yer dear departed father, but yer little brother insisted that all o'ye match on his wedding day, and with the good Lord as me witness you'll be showin' up at that fitting if I have to drag y'there."
O'Leary spluttered, but before he could utter another word, his tiny Irish mother gripped his earlobe and twisted.
"Now, up you get!" She hissed, "you can down a pint with yer friends when yer family obligations be done."
She tugged at his earlobe and the massive mountain of a man once again bowed his head, hunched his shoulders and rose from his seat, having to remain bowed low as his tiny Irish mother perp-walked him by the ear out the door.
Castle and Beckett stared at the door and then at each other.
"Did that just happen?" They whispered in unison, before they both broke down into fits of uncontrollable laughter.
A/N: I sent this to Garrae over the weekend and she insisted I share this with everyone. She has even given this series a name. "The Chronicles of O'Leary"