KIRA'S POV:

I sighed and sat down on the bar stool.

"Hey, Kira!" Connor yelled, getting up from his stool and running around to behind me. He wrapped his arms around my stomach and lifted me up off the stool.

I laughed despite my mood and said, "Put me down, Connor."

He chuckled and put me back down.

Murphy was the next to grab me up. "Kira!" He picked me up and spun around.

I squealed and held onto him for dear life. Damn MacManus boys.

He laughed and set me down.

"Come on, Kira, perk up. Its St. Patty's Day! You're Irish, how're ya not ecstatic?" Connor asked, sitting back down.

"We were packed at work today," I answered, yawning and leaning against the bar.

"Hey, Doc," Murphy called to the old man behind the bar. "Get Kira a Guinness."

A pint was set in front of me.

I smiled gratefully up to the old man and took a gulp.

I was a waitress at a diner on the corner beside the building the MacManus brothers and I lived in. We lived in an all-Irish neighborhood, so it had been overflowing with customers today. I still had my uniform on, apron and all, because I knew if I went back home to change, I would fall into bed and forget about my plans to meet Rocco and the boys here at McGinty's. I had been friends with the MacManus brothers and David Della Rocco for almost 5 years now. The boys were workers for a meat packaging plant and Roc worked for the mafia. It kind of bothered me that he did, because I knew to them he was an expendable. I knew it was dangerous and I didn't want to see anything happen to him.

"Hey, where's Roc?" I asked Murph.

Just as I asked, the door opened and in came our shaggy-haired, beard-faced friend. "Hey, Fuck-ass, get me a beer!" Everyone in the bar gave cheers and gave Rocco some affectionate hair ruffles, back pats, and arm punches.

About an hour later, we were all drunk and most of the bar was empty besides the row of guys (and me) at the bar. We were all laughing at pretty much nothing and leaning heavily on the bar.

"Listen guys, I've got some bad news," Doc said, quieting the bar patrons. "I'm gonna have to close down th-th-th-the bar."

I felt my heart sink. This place was like a home away from home. It was like a little piece of Ireland right in the middle of South Boston. Apparently they were closing down lots of buildings all around here and weren't letting anyone renew their leases. Even Doc.

"Hey, lemme talk to my boss, maybe he can do something," Rocco said.

We all made disapproving sounds and Murphy reached over and smacked the back of his head. It was a stupid idea. I was sure that even if "Papa Joe" could do something, Doc wouldn't want in on it just because of the dangers of dealing with Italian mafia.

Doc pointed at Rocco and said, "Now I don't want anyone knowin'. So ya keep yer traps shut! Ya know what they say. People in glass houses sink sh-sh-ships."

I laughed along with the men of the bar at his silly faux pas.

Rocco wheezed a laugh before saying, "Hey, Doc, I gotta buy you like a proverbs book or something. This mix and match shit's gotta go."

"A penny saved's worth two in the bush, innit?" Connor asked, looking blearily around through heavy-lidded eyes.

Murphy smiled and leaned over on my shoulder. "And don't cross the road, if ya cant get outta the kitchen."

I giggled and playfully shoved him over onto Rocco. I was still laughing when the door banged open and three large men walked in. Everyone at the bar stood and turned to face them. I leaned against Murphy's arm, the room tilting treacherously.

The bald one in the middle started speaking in a Russian accent. "I am Ivan Checkov, and you vill be closing. Now."

I scowled.

Murphy smirked. "Checkov? Well this here's McCoy," he threw his arm around Rocco's neck. "We find a Spock and we got ourselves an away team."

Everyone chuckled at his goofy Star Trek reference. The Russians didn't find it funny, though.

"I'm in no mood for discussion. You!" he pointed at Doc. "You stay. The rest of you, go now."

There was mumbling heard throughout the rest of the bar, but I kept quiet, silently sizing up these thugs.

"Why don't you make like a tree… and get the fuck out!" Doc stuttered from behind the bar.

"I rather like that one," I mumbled, making Murphy and Connor smirk.

Connor stepped up. "Ya know he's got till the week's end, right? Ya don't have to be hard-asses, do ya?"

"Yeah, its St. Patty's Day, everyone's Irish tonight," Murphy said. He put a cigarette in his mouth and let it hang limply between his lips as he continued, "Why don't you just pull up a stool and have a drink with us?"

Ivan flipped the fuck out. He smacked the glasses from Connor and Murphy's hands and growled, "This is no game! If you von't go, ve vill make you go."

Oooh wrong move, Ivan. You don't knock a beer from an Irishman's hand. Especially if that Irishman is a MacManus.

Connor glared up at him. "Listen, if ya want to fight, ya can see yer outnumbered here. We're tryin' to be civil so I suggest ya take our offer."

I knew what was brewing, and I awaited it eagerly. I wanted a bar fight so bad. Just like the ones that used to happen back home.

"I make the offers," Ivan said, glaring down the line of drunks.

Rocco stepped forward, starting to talk. I really hoped it wasn't something that was going to land him a shiner. Roc had that effect on people. "Hey, Borris! What if told you your pinko commie mother sucked so much dick her face looked like an egg?"

Oh Roc, I thought as Ivan leaped forward and punched Rocco out.

"Fuck you!" Murphy yelled at Ivan. Connor and Murphy started speaking to the three men in Russian, one of the many languages the two boys knew. Each MacManus gulped down a shot of Jack, then threw the punch that started everything.

Bar customers converged on the three large men, each of whom was trying in vain to defend themselves.

"I love this shit!" I yelled, kicking the side of a Russian's head who had been knocked to the floor. I passed by Ivan and gave him a good punch to the face. He dropped like a sack of potatoes and groaned.

I saw Murphy being backed up against a wall under racks of wine bottles. I tried to run to help him, and so did a few others, but Connor held us back. "Stay away! He can take care of himself!" Connor's words were proven true, when 2 seconds later, Murphy reached up behind him and grabbed a wine bottle in each hand. He brought them crashing down onto the head of the Russian in front of him, wine coating him and the floor beneath him.

Doc would have quite the clean-up to do when we left.

Some of the men picked Ivan up and laid him belly-side down on the bar. Murphy and I bound him to the bar with some rope. Murphy lit up a cigarette as Doc tossed me a bottle of alcohol. I poured most of it out onto Ivan's vulnerable ass, then took a swig and passed it on to Connor. Murphy "dropped" his cigarette onto Ivan's liquored-up rear end and we all laughed and watched as he squirmed, the flames making themselves at home in the seat of his trousers.

After about 5 more minutes Rocco, Connor, Murphy, and I left the others to Ivan's roasting butt cheeks. We were all stumbling up the street, intoxicated, when Rocco parted ways with us.

"Shall we walk the lady home, Murph?" Connor asked, linking arms with me.

"I believe we ought to, Connor. We did get the lady into a furious bar fight, ya know," Murphy said, hooking his arm through mine.

I giggled drunkenly and continued on. "I don't see why it matters, ya walk me home whether ya want to or not; we live down the hall from each other," I laughed, stumbling a bit.

Murphy laughed. "Aye, but we find its more polite to do it this way," he held up his elbow, lifting my arm along with his.

I laughed and got into the elevator of our building.

The elevator arrived on the 5th floor and we were all laughing about absolutely nothing. We got off the elevator and came up to my door, gasping for breath between our raucous bouts of laughter. The neighbors wouldn't complain; they were Irish, too. So they were either in their rooms and drunk, or out on the town and drunk.

"Goodnight, boys!" I called, unlocking my door.

"Night Kira!" they both called simultaneously. They both winked (also simultaneously) and disappeared inside their apartment.

They were an odd set of brothers, for sure. But I had grown rather fond of them over the years.

I fell into bed face first, sleep coming easily.