Author's note: A little nervous about this chapter honestly. It was a tough one to write and even now, I'm not too sure about it. There isn't too much lovey dovey interaction between Hope and the Saints. Nor is there any real action going on. In all honesty this is probably more of a transition chapter in anything. It gives you some more info on Hope and hopefully gets the ball rolling for future chapters. Anyway I have to go work on my Walking Dead story now, I've delayed it way too much. I hope you enjoy this chapter. ;)

~Cassandra

Disclaimer: If I owned The Boondock Saints, Connor and Murphy would be very busy men.

Having lunch with Katya wasn't nearly as wonderful as Hope expected it to be. The blond woman still had a sort of grudge against her for killing her 'lover' all those years ago. Despite the fact her lover had at least twenty other women he 'loved.' Or the fact that he beat not only Katya almost to death but Ophelia and Mina as well on multiple occasions. Along with assisting Danova-the bastard who not only hooked them on drugs, but forced them into prostitution. No, Hope didn't regret killing Gazzo and she never would. " I saw on the news that Santoni was murdered last night-or at least that's what the police are choosing to believe right now. Seeing how his killer forced him to cut his own wrist and write that horrid message on the wall, before poisoning him." Katya nonchalantly mentioned.

Hope frowned glaring over her slice of pizza. "If you're gonna turn me in, turn me in. Otherwise don't bother trying to blackmail me, Katya."

Katya rolled her pretty blue eyes. Hope had always been jealous of her ex-friend's beauty. Even now despite all the drugs that ran-and probably still run through her system Katya managed to be beautiful. "Please, like I'm so stupid as to blackmail Anonymous. Let alone turn her in." Katya snorted, "I know better. You'd have me pushed in front of some train, with a quote from Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace written in magazine clippings stuffed in my purse. But I suppose that's better than anything Baxendale would do to me."

"First off it was Anna Karenina who jumped in front of a train from Tolstoy's novel Anna Karenina. Not War and Peace. Secondly I don't kill innocent good people. Thirdly don't you dare talk about Baxendale like that after everything he's done for you." Hope hissed.

"Please Baxendale is just as evil as those 'guilty' people you decide to kill. The only difference between him and all those other men is that he doesn't pimp you out like they did." Katya pointed.

Hope slammed her fist on the table. She didn't see why Katya had to hold onto the past like this. Why she had dwell on it as if it were something pleasant to remember and not a nightmare like it really was. Or why she chose so easily to forget about their sister Ophelia-imprisoned in the stat pen. for life or Mina who was still comatose after all those years. They were memories Hope couldn't let go of no matter how hard she tried. "Nor did he destroy our lives or our friends' lives, Kat. Do you remember what Danova and his friends did to us? The way he broke Ophelia down-so much that it was like watching a ghost move about? And what about the time Gazzo 'aborted' your child for you, cause you wouldn't? Have you forgotten all that? Or are you too far gone to remember how we suffered, simply cause we wanted to be free from the slums one day?" Hope cried.

"I haven't forgotten any of it, Hope! I've been trying to move on for the last six years! But no matter what I do I have Baxendale breathing down my neck. I can't go anywhere without being reminded that I somehow owe for being free." Katya exclaimed.

"Because you do! If it weren't for Baxendale doing what he did, we still would have been under Danova's and the rest those assholes' rule. Hell we probably wouldn't still be alive. Not with all the drugs pumping through our veins. The beatings we got for 'disobeying'. All the unprotected sex we were forced to have." Hope grabbed Katya's hands. "We would have never survived this long."

Katya frowned retracting her hands from Hope. She stood up slinging her purse on her shoulder. Her bright blue eyes narrowed angrily at Hope. "Well we have survived and now it's time to move on-away from Baxendale's control. After all…. it wouldn't make for sanity would it, living with the devil. Daphne du Maurier. Rebecca."

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"Is it better for a man to have chosen evil than to have good imposed upon him?" Murphy moaned, laying his head on the library's table. For the last four hours Connor and him were trying to put all the clues of Anon together. Unsurprisingly though, they could come up with nothing. After all, they were saints not detectives.

"I think the devil doesn't exist, but man has created him, he has created him in his own image and likeness." Connor groaned in agreement. All these quotes were driving him insane. Why couldn't Anon be a movie buff for Pete's sake. At least then maybe Connor would have an idea as to what was going on.

"Clockwork Orange. Anthony Burgess. The Brothers Karamazov. Fyodor Dostoevsky." Hope's warm voice was heard. She leaned over the two brothers staring at the thick pages of their files scattered everywhere. Her bright brown eyes searching the page curiously. Connor and Murphy exchanged impressed looks. Of course their Hope would know where those quotes came from.

They watched as she took in all the information on the pages. If Smecker were here, he'd yell at them for letting her in on such things. Especially seeing how they barely knew each other. But neither brother could deny the pleasure of seeing Hope analyze things. The woman had a cute little habit of wrinkling her nose when she thought. It was a habit they often saw whenever Hope picked up a book. "You guys detectives?" Hope asked, thumbing through the papers.

"Something like that." Connor replied.

"We're more like private detectives. Kind of like Sherlock Holmes." Murphy added.

" Ah…I see. The past and the present are within the field of my inquiry, but what a man may do in the future is a hard question to answer?" Hope offered.

They gave her a blank look causing her to smile. She bent down giving both men a kiss on the cheek. "The Hound of Baskerville-Sherlock Holmes. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ." Hope explained, "By the way, whoever wrote these quotes sound like they're either trying to find the true meaning of good or already have their ideal implication of evil."

"Ya don't say, Nancy Drew?" Connor smirked, pulling her towards him.

Murphy wrapped an arm around her waist grinning. "Aye. Not a girl detective."

Hope laughed, shoving them playfully. It was ridiculous how these two couldn't quote Sherlock Holmes for the life of them, but knew at least one quote from Nancy Drew. If her father knew she was 'dating' such men, he'd have a stroke. Unfortunately though he was already long gone for such a threat to affect him or her. The man had practically spoke in quotes. To him, literature held the truth. A belief he passed down to Hope-as well as her 'alter ego' Anon. "So, tell me what are two private detectives doing looking in on a murder case?" Hope questioned.

"Yes, tell us detectives. What exactly are you two doing investigating a murder case?" a snarky voice asked.

A shiver of delight ran down Hope's spine at the sound of that voice. She knew that voice, she would know it anywhere. Even if she had never personally met or spoken to its owner. It belong to the one and only Paul Smecker. Her favorite play toy ever. Besides her, both Connor and Murphy visibly stiffened. Hope had a feeling that they weren't supposed to be out of the safe house, let alone in a public library with confidential information everyone could see. Quickly Hope put on her innocent façade shifting embarrassingly closer to Connor. He gave her waist a soft reassuring squeeze. "Love, this is our boss-uh Jimmy Gatz." Connor said with a smile.

"Jimmy Gatz." Hope repeated in disbelief.

Connor gave her a coy smile. "Yeah. What? He don't look like a Jimmy to ya, lass?"

Smecker watched her carefully. Though the saints seemed to trust this Hope wholeheartedly, he didn't. Then again as wise as the Saints were, they did not have their father's wisdom or caution. The two dumbass for whatever reason liked to jump into things blindly with nothing more than a fallible plan. Which is why Smecker was there to help them. "No. No, it's nothing like that. It's just that….." Hope bit her lip feigning nervousness. "It's just that in The Great Gatbsy by F. Scott Fitzgerald, the character Jay Gatsby's name was just a pseudonym. His really name was James or Jimmy-as he was nicknamed… Gatz."

All three men blinked slightly lost by Hope's analysis. "What does that have to do with anything?" Smecker finally asked.

Hope made her face turn slightly red. After years of being everyone but herself, Hope had learned how to control such emotional characteristics. She could make herself cry, sweat, and turn red on command. Something very useful when being undercover. "Well normally I said say, it's nothing more than sheer coincidence. However given certain factors, I'd say my boyfriends here are lying to me about your real name. Which I should probably be mad about..but having secrets of my own I'm not." Hope explained.

"Wait." Connor interceded. "Given factors? I don't know about any given factors. Murph?"

Murphy gave his brother a sly smile. "Aye. Last week she assigned us The Great Gatsby to read."

Connor blinked in remembrance. Hope had literally shoved the book in his hands upon hearing he never read it. The girl was so outraged by the fact, she insisted Connor read it. Something about the true American dream being behind it what not. Either way, Connor agreed to look it over in exchange for a date-their first date in fact. "You read The Great Gatsby?" Smecker asked slightly amused.

"She wasn't going to go out with us, unless I did. Besides Murphy had to readit too." Connor whined.

Hope gave Smecker a small smile. "I couldn't live with myself, if the men I dated had not read at least one piece of classic literature."

"I see." Smecker said shifting his weight. "Tell me, Miss-

"Hope."

Smecker nodded. "Miss Hope, what do you know about the serial killer known as Anon?"

Hope felt her heart dropped slightly, but contained her nervousness. Other than the FBI , local authorities, and really topnotch criminals, information-no the existence of Anon was unknown. Smecker was trying to bait and trap her. He suspected her. Next to her, Connor and Murphy shifted almost protectively against her. "I'm sorry who? I never read anything about a serial killer named Anon." Hope replied.

"I suppose you wouldn't. Anon is a rather new serial killer. He tends to be rather erratic and stealthy. His killings never ever the same. One day he kills some high-end mafia boss by letting him bleed to death slowly. Next he pours poison down some random Joe's ear. But most of all, he does all this while making the killings seem…isolated for one another."

Hope cocked an eyebrow. "If what you're saying, Mr. Gatz, is true, than how do you know it's a serial killer."

Smecker gave her a strange half grin, before wagging his finger at her. "That is the thing. The one correlating factor in all the murders is the accompanying quote from a piece of classic literature of some sort."

"Fascinating." Hope said trying to sound impressed. It was kind of hard to be impressed with her own handy work. Especially since Hope had a feeling Smecker's idea behind her reasoning for the quote was totally off-key. "What do you think they mean?"

"Like you said, they could be the serial killer's own personal war on the true meaning of good. Or his own way of pointing out, what he thinks is pure evil. But seeing how most of Anon's victims are innocent people, I have a feeling he just playing a game with the police. That or maybe his victims are not as innocent as their background checks appear to be." Smecker explained.

Hope bit back the smirk threatening to appear on her face. Smecker was so close to the truth, yet so far away. None of her victims were ever innocent, but the quotes were far from a game. They were as Hope revealed a mixture of her confusion of the real meaning of good-and the ideal of what Hope defined as evil. Moreover they were Hope's justification for each and every kill she ever did. "Interesting. But why is a private detective like you on a case such as this? Furthermore, why are you telling me all this?" Hope pressed, ignoring the equally curious looks of her boys.

"You seem to know a lot about classics, Hope-"

"I would hope so, I am a librarian."

"Most librarians nowadays couldn't quote Dr. Seuss for the life of them."

"Unlike most librarian, I've grown up reading-it was all my father let us do, when we weren't doing homework. He didn't believe in TV, you see." Hope informed.

"I do. Was your father an immigrant?" Smecker asked.

"Yes, he came from Russia-right before the cold war started." Hope replied, "What does my lineage have to do with anything though?"

"Nothing." Smecker answered earnestly, "It just that children of first generation immigrants are more likely to be pushed hard in school and other learning skills. In all honesty, Miss Hope, I was just curious as to why you read so much. As for while I'm telling you all this…the boys here seemed to trust you immensely, and from what I've heard, you have quite the skill at not only analyzing, but recognizing literature patterns."

"I majored in English." Hope replied.

"I figured. Anyway, because of your connection to the McManus brothers here, and your obvious brainpower…I was wondering if you would be interested in helping us solve these murders." Smecker offered, trying to look genuine. Hope wasn't the only putting on a mask here. The only intention Smecker had in her helping him, was to try and get her to reveal some personal information. Information that could be used to trap her as Anon.

She paled her face a little. "I'm flattered detective-really I am, but I have a job and I would hate to abandon it."

"Aye. It would be a shame for Hope to lose her job." Connor said cryptically. What he really meant was that there was no-fucking way they'd allow Hope to be put in danger. Which was funny to Smecker, considering how he had a feeling it was them who were really in danger. The girl was smart-he gave her that. However Smecker had his doubts about her being as innocent as she seemed. Like Duffy mentioned, her sudden bond with the Saints seemed doubtful without some other objective. And the more Smecker spoke to her, the more he began to wonder a further possibility of who Hope really was.

"I'm not asking her to quit boys. I'm simply asking Miss Hope, if she would be interested in taking another job on the side."Smecker said raising an eyebrow at her.

Hope mimicked a contemplating look. She already knew her answer. Baxendale wanted her to get in close with Smecker and the McManus family. And what better way to do that than to help them catch a killer who was actually her. "It won't affect my work hours at all? " Hope asked.

"Not at all." Smecker swore.

With a small smile, Hope extended her hand to Smecker. "Well…if it doesn't affect my job, I see no reason why not to help."

Connor and Murphy frowned, both ready to protest when Hope shot them a cheerful look. "After all, you guys said it yourself didn't ya? I'm a real Nancy Drew."

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Your reviews keep me going.

XakibaphoxX: I promise to work my hardest to keep this going.

Leyshla Gisel: Thank you.

Eminemchick19: I am so excited to read your next chapter of Extinction.

Guest: I am extremely glad you liked it, and hope this chapter is up to par with your expectations.