The MacManus brothers had decided to take their business inland a ways, seeing as the police in the major New England cities were all on the look-out for the Saints. Da had decided to stay behind for awhile, until he felt it was safe enough for him to leave as well. The brothers were in Chicago for a while, took out a couple of the local mobsters as well as some drug dealers and thieves that had showed up along the way. To their surprise, these Midwestern criminals were actually pretty sharp. The brothers half expected them to be slower and not as quick-witted as the criminals in Boston and New York. But they were given a run for their money, so to speak.

They were preparing to leave Chicago, not sure where to go next, only knowing that it was time to pack up and go. Murphy was on his way home from the store with cigarettes, beer, and bread when he heard a song he liked on the radio. It was "Drunken Lullabies" by Flogging Molly, an Irish rock band. He nodded his head along with the beat, singing along and tapping his hands on the steering wheel. When the song was over, the radio announcer came on.

"That was 'Drunken Lullabies' by Flogging Molly," he informed with great cheer. "For those of you who didn't know, they'll be making an appearance at the Pops club in East St. Louis February 6th. I know it's a long drive from here, but should be well-worth it for the fans. Next up, we have some Finger Eleven with…"

By this time, Murphy had turned off the radio because he had reached their apartment. He parked the car around back so that it wouldn't be visible from the street. Hopping out, he grabbed the bag of groceries and headed upstairs. An idea struck him as he opened the door to the dingy apartment and saw his brother sitting at the table, cleaning their guns.

"St. Louis," he blurted out with a grin.

Connor looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "The fuck're ye goin' on about?"

"We should go ta St. Louis next, Conn," he answered, plopping the bag on the small counter because he had forgotten about the bread. "I heard on the news that they've surpassed even New York in the number a murders this year."

Connor shook his head and wiped the barrel of one of the guns with a clean rag. Murphy was undeterred by his brother's lack of enthusiasm. "Plus, the city's known fer bein' the biggest hub for drug trade in the country 'cause it's smack in the middle."

"Why d'ye really want ta go there, Murph," Connor asked, knowing his brother better than that.

Murphy rolled his eyes. He should have known better than to think he could pull one over on his brother. It hadn't worked in 28 years, why would it start working now. "Floggin' Molly'll be playin' in East St. Louis in a couple days."

"Ah," Connor nodded, smiling just a little. "Alright. St. Louis it is, then."

Murphy gave a triumphant hoot and pounced on his brother. "Ye won't regret it, Conn. We're goin' ta get drunk an' listen ta good ole Irish rock! Can't beat a night like that."

"Aye, but ye know I don't like Floggin' Molly as much as ye," Connor nodded. "I prefer Dropkick Murphy."

Murphy scoffed at his brother for two reasons; one, Flogging Molly was better and Connor knew that, and two, Connor only said he liked Dropkick Murphy better because that's exactly what he always wanted to do: drop-kick Murphy.

"Ye're a fuckwit, ye know that," Murphy retorted, ruffling his brother's hair.

"Aye," Connor nodded, smiling as his brother sat down with two beers and started helping with the guns. "But ye know ye love me."

"Doesn't mean I have ta like ye all the time," he rolled his eyes, but smiled as well while he popped open the beer can and picked up another rag.

---

It took four hours for them to reach St. Louis after leaving Chicago. They stopped near the middle to exchange places so that it was Murphy who drove into East St. Louis and got the famous skyline of the Gateway Arch and the old City Hall building. He was rather impressed with it and reached over to nudge a sleeping Connor awake to see it.

"Conn, get the fuck up," he hissed, keeping an eye on the highway.

Connor blinked a few times before sitting up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "What? What is it?"

"Take a look at tha'," Murphy replied, pointing out the window to the view.

Connor leaned forward so he could see everything and gave a low whistle. "Well, ain't that a sight?"

The sun was setting on that uncommonly clear February afternoon, leaving the sky behind the city of St. Louis in a pinkish fire before night could swallow it entirely. It was approaching six o'clock, just an hour before the show was supposed to start. Murphy had checked online at the public library in Chicago and found out that Pops, the club Flogging Molly would be playing at, sold tickets at the door for $22. He hoped they wouldn't get there too late only to find the show sold-out.

East St. Louis Illinois, which was across the Mississippi River from the city, was not the cleanest place the twins had ever been to. It reminded Murphy strongly of Southie, with the run down homes and suspicious looking people walking down the street. It might have looked scary had the brothers never been exposed to the seedier side of living. They found a dingy-around-the-edges hotel to stay in for the night, paying for the room and asking for directions to the club.

It seemed the Pops was in a little bubble of its own in East St. Louis. Unlike the rest of the city, this particular spot looked clean and well-kept. The parking lot was packed, so they were forced to park quite a ways down the block and walk back to the door. Murphy was glad to find that they had not sold-out, although it seemed very close. They were herded inside with the rest of the crowd, only to be stopped at the door by a man asking to see ID.

"You drinking tonight," the big man asked the guy and girl in front of the brothers.

"Yeah," the shaggy haired, stubble-chinned young man answered.

"See some ID," the bouncer replied, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Both reached into their pockets and pulled out driver's licenses. The bouncer looked at the guy's and gave a derisive snort and grabbed his wrist, picking up a marker and leaving a bright red slash on the back of the guy's hand. The kid grumbled and walked further into the place, but not too far as the girl moved up to the bouncer.

He skimmed over her ID and gave a small smile. "Turned twenty-one on February 2nd, huh?"

"Yeah," the long-haired, brunette girl said shyly, giving a slight nod.

"Well, happy birthday," the man chuckled. "Four days late, of course."

She walked off to meet up with the guy as Murphy and Connor stepped up. The bouncer took one look at them and waved them in without even checking. Their first stop was the bar, where they grabbed a bottle of Guinness each and headed out toward the rest of the crowd. There were a few tables set up in various places, but the club was mostly a stage and a large open area where people stood crowded together, trying to get closer to the band.

"Fuckin' mosh pits," Connor grumbled, shaking his head. "These kids're goin' ta kill each other when they get ta jumpin' 'round like idiots."

"Aye," Murphy laughed. "That's why we stand in the back and enjoy the music from the speakers."

He pointed upwards where the large black boxes loomed over them. Connor smiled and clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Then we might just survive this, Murph."

About that time, the band started to walk out onto the stage, the crowd raising a loud cheer. They started warming up, and several people left the crowd to go to the bar during the wait. One of them was a young man with blue-back hair that made a bee-line toward Connor and Murphy, ploughing right between them with no pause and no apology. To keep from being knocked down, Murphy side-stepped quickly and bumped into someone.

"Right bastard," he grumbled after the guy then turned to see who he had run into. It was the brunette from the line, the apparent birthday-girl. Some of his beer had sloshed onto the side of her face and on her green Guinness t-shirt as she stood there looking stunned, wiping at her face. Murphy's eyes widened. "Christ, I'm sorry, lass."

She turned to her face to look up at him, one dark brown eye still closed from the beer that was dripping from her hair. He looked around to see if he saw any napkins, but there was no place close enough. The girl licked her lips and started laughing.

"Man," she giggled. "That is not how I imagined tasting beer for the first time."

"Ye sure ye're alright," Murphy asked, touching her shoulder absently.

"Yeah," she nodded glancing up at his face before she blushed and looked away.

"Murph," Connor asked from behind him. "The fuck're ye doin'?"

Murphy turned around to look at his brother. "I bumped into this lass…"

He turned back to say something to the girl, but she had already walked away, still wiping at her face a little.

"What lass," Connor said, coming up next to him and following his gaze.

"Nothin'," Murphy shook his head and turned his attention back to the stage as he rejoined his brother.

A/N: Well, I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter! Please review and let me know how it's going. I've left the genre as General until I decide which way I'm going with the story. So, I need your help. Should Sithy do more romance, or are her reader's wanting something else? Let me know what you think and I'll take it into consideration before I make a final decision.

Thanks! -Love, Sithy

PS - All the major places that are going to be mentioned in the story are there in real life, so if you ever go to St. Louis, you can check them out ;)