Broch Tuarach

A special shout out to The Beatles for Twist and Shout.

The bar was slammed. They had more patrons tonight than some Friday or even Saturday Nights and it was only a Tuesday. Jamie was'na supposed to be working either. He had a date. He'd just stopped in to pick up some cash and then be on his way, but only one bartender on, with a crowd like this, spelled disaster. And his partner, his godfather, Murtagh, was running around like a chicken without his head on. Murtagh did'na like crowds; he did'na deal with them well. Weel, that was a bit of an understatement. It was'na that Murtagh did no deal with crowds well, not that exactly. It's that he did'na deal with them at all, unless ye wanted some sort of bar fight to be the end result. No, Jamie was the people person of the team, Murtagh was the stock expert; he ken his libations well and made the bar a local favorite because of it.

This Open Mike Night idea had been an inspiration. Tuesday Nights were usually dead, so one night his sister Jenny and her husband Ian where hanging out at the bar and Ian gets this idea. Ian grabs Jenny and, using a guitar left on stage, they performed a song, just Jenny sing'n and Ian play'n back up, like they do sometimes at home, only at home the bairn usually sing along too. Then one of our regulars approached Ian asking if she and her sister could sing a song and would Ian would accompany them as well. After that Ian opened it up for anyone else who wanted to give up a song and three more did. Ian accompanied each of them, once on the piano. Folks whistle'n, singing along and wave'n arms in the air like they were at a concert. Some even danced. All just for fun, ye ken. That was a month ago. A couple of regulars mentioned that they had such fun, asked us if we were going to do it again. So we repeated it the following Tuesday and found we had a couple of new customers and two of them had pretty good pipes on them as well. So it's a regular Tuesday night thing the bar does now. Ian contacted some of his mates that were in a garage band together back in school and they came in last week and played along with Ian for free beers. Now no one is a professional by any means but they come to drink and stay to sing, or maybe, on Tuesdays, it's the other way 'round now, he was'na really sure. Either way bar business had increased and by the looks of tonight, business has more than doubled. Everyone was having a good time and it's a bit different from the usual karaoke. They've had some come from as far as Inverness for chance to sing with a live band. No bad for a little hole in the wall pub in Broch Mordha. Ian, smart lad that he is, had a play list printed and the singer has to pick a song from the list, but the band had a pretty diverse repertoire; everyone seems to find something on the list they wanted to sing. They even have a Country-Western Song…Ok, so it's Garth Brooks and not Reba McEntire….

Jamie immediately went behind the bar, put his phone and keys down and started to help Willie catch up. The two of them work well together and can handle the loaded bar as a team. Murtagh walked by carrying a case of BrewDog. "I need another hook up of Innes, and better get another Gunn ready. They are hitting them hard." Jamie barked as Murtagh passed. "I need more Margarita mix too. These gals are drinking them faster than I can mix 'em. Them and the whiskey sours. What is it with women and little umbrella drinks anyway? Sweet and fruity, yuck" and Jamie makes a face. "Give me a decent shot of Laphroaig or Glenlivet any day of the week," he comments and gives his godfather a smile.

"Yeah, weel ye and me can pour us a few tonight after we close, aye? Until then, keep make'n the pay'n lasses happy and don't let me hear that ye ran out of the wee umbrellas or garnishes! Like lambs to the slaughter…" Murtagh said with a huge grin and scoots back past Jamie on his way out from behind the bar. "I'll change yer hook ups now. I'm going to the cellar to get more tonic and seltzer for ye anyway. Just keep 'em happy, aye? These lasses do'na drink all that much but they are bring in the lads that will" and he disappeared around the corner.

The time flew by. Willie and he had a rhythm going. The bar was on fire. He loved working when it was like this. It got his heart pumping and his adrenaline flowing. It was one of the reasons he and Murtagh opened the place to begin with. It was a dump when Murtagh first found it. Took almost a year of hard work, work'n night and day, but with the help of friends and family, they got it up and running. The bar was a success now. They even owned the building. The bar downstairs and a small 2 bedroom flat upstairs and of course the stocked cellar. Ned Gowan was god sent when it came to getting their alcohol and food licenses; without him Broch Tuarach would not exist. Ok, so they did'na really have a tower, it's more of a turrett but yes, the door does face north. Tonight makes all those early struggles and lost sleep well worth it. Now if he just had someone to share it all with...

"What are ye still do'n here? I thought ye had a date?" Murtagh asked a while later as he passed Jamie carrying more ice.

"Shite" Jamie muttered. "Got so caught up in helping ye out I forgot to call Mary and cancel. I'll just step out in the alley and take care of that now." He said to Murtagh.

"Tisst, ye go and have ye date with the wee widow lady" Murtagh said with a knowing smile. "Willie and I've got this."

"The day you work behind this bar, aulde man, will be the day I…." and Jamie smiled, not finishing the thought. He actually did not know what he would do without him. Murtagh had filled huge void in his heart when his da died. Kept him sane and alive.

"Willie, I've gotta make a call. I'll be right back." So he stepped out back, into the alley, found Mary MacNab in his contacts, called and apologized, but he would have to cancel tonight. Said he'd call her some other time and reschedule. They both knew he wouldn't call. Just as well he thought as he pressed the red button on his cell to hang up. It would really only be the second date and he did not think it was going to go anywhere already. She had come in two weeks ago for this Open Mike thing with a group of girlfriends. She was a widow, she said, and seemed nice enough, all be it a little shy and a little frumpy, if truth be told; no confidence in herself at all. But with a few drinks in her, she had gotten brave and written her digits on a bar napkin and slid it to him along with a pretty good tip. He did not have the heart not to call her.

Coffee, just coffee. Short and sweet. Just a little somethi'n to give the lass a boost to her confidence for the next guy she meets. She had taken him by surprise when he walked into the agreed Coffee Shop and saw her sitting there with what turned out to be her 12 year old lad, Rabbie. The kid was nice enough and the same age as Young Jamie, his sister's oldest. They had talked about the new Star Wars movieRogue One, fishing and local soccer clubs. Boys at that age needs a father and that had sent up Red Flags for him. No way was he ready to be one of those, especially on a first date. It wasn't that he did not like bairn. He loved Ian and Jenny's brood, all five of his nieces and nephews, truly and Jenny pregnant number six. It wasn't that he didn't want a family of his own either...someday. He wanted kids, twelve he always says when a date asks and then laughs to himself as he watchs the panic come to their eyes. Yes, an even dozen; his very own soccer team with one extra for substitutions. He would have that family when he found the right lass, nay, the right woman. That was part of the problem. He had lots of lasses interested in him, tons, young and pretty lining up to give him their phone numbers... but that was the catch, wasn't it?

"Ye do'na need a lass, Jamie, what ye need is a woman," Murtagh told him in no uncertain terms one night when he told his godfather about yet another disastrous date he'd had.

Maybe Murtagh was right. He ken it was'na Mary he was looking for. Mary had been persistent and would not let him leave the coffee shop until she had a roped him into a second date. He really did have to leave. It was his turn to open the bar and he was late already, so he had unwisely agreed to it. So the bar, being too busy for him to walk out on was the perfect excuse. He'd shut this dating Mary thing down before it got complicated and she got hurt.

He quickly text Jenny, told her to find a sitter and get her ass down here to help ASAP as he walked back into the bar.

He'd just finished the text and put the phone in his back pocket, not watching where he was going as he made his way through the crowd to the bar. He just about knocked a patron over, walked right into her as she was walking by. With cat like reflexes, he managed to grab her by the arms to prevent her from falling on her arse. There was a small jolt that hit him the moment his hands made contact with her bare arms; like there was an electrical current running from her to him in through one hand, coursing through his entire body and then back out through his other. It left him feeling like he'd just grabbed hold of a plug and gotten a small shock, leaving the hairs on his arms standing on end. The way she shuttered, he ken she'd felt it too.

Christ, she was tall for a lass. Finally, a tall one. He was so tired of meeting women he could'na look in the eye without stand'n them on a box. And talk about bonnie...her eyes, gazing into them was like look'n at sunlight filter through a glass of finely aged whiskey. He found himself making a small whimpering noise.

She had all this beautiful, shoulder length, curly hair that framed her face. A brunette. He usually went for blondes but hers was not the normal drab brown, her hair had all the colors of a burn to it. Shades of chestnut, amber and even auburn. Her hair seem to have a life of it's own, like it was it's own unique entity, all wild and unkempt; he was mesmerized by it. He had to stop himself from letting go of her arm and running his fingers through it right then and there.

"A bhithfhathast a 'bualadh mo chridhe, ma tha thu nach' eil a creutair as àlainn mo shùilean riamh chunnaic" he said quietly under his breath as he slowly looked her over. Be still my beating heart, if you are not the most beautiful creature my eyes have ever beheld. Victoria Secret model gorgeous, for sure. He'd let her model knickers for him anytime. And legs… hers went on forever and her short little polka dot skirt made sure you could appreciate them. She had a white blouse on, untucked and tied at the waist, that was unbuttoned just one button too many, making him want to see if he could get a look at her breasts if the shirt moved the right way. He did not think she was wearing a bra either; he swore he could see a hint of her cherry red nipples through the thin material. He sighed as he thought about his thumb rubbing that..

"Hey, my eyes are up here" she commanded as she thumped him in the shoulder then took her open hand and waved it in front of her bosom in an attempt to get him to look up.

"Huh?" Jamie said realizing he was caught staring at her like he was 14 go'n through puberty, look'n at his first pin-up. She had a natural beauty to her. She appeared to be wearing hardly any makeup at all. Amazingly beautiful white skin, like porcelain. None of that dark eyeliner that made the lasses look so Goth either. No bright red lipstick, just a soft pale pink. It made him wet his lips with the thought of kissing them.

"Pardon me," she said. "Did you say something?" then added an "Oops," as something fell to the floor. She turned and bent at the waist to pick it up.

"What an arse," he whistled under his breath. Before he knew it he had taken a step forward and with both hands, made a very subconscious choice of reaching toward her bent frame to lay hold of it; ready to grab both cheeks and pull them to his already very alert crotch. God he wanted to feel that up against him every night before he fell asleep. Then he thought, there was no way in the world he would ever sleep if that arse were pressed up against him. Certainly, very specific parts of his nether region would be wide awake and raring to play. Jesus, where hell had this woman been hiding his whole life? Why the hell did'na he ken her?

He glanced up and saw Murtagh look'n right at him, making him turn red. His godfather could read him like a book, ken exactly what he had been think'n. That wasn't embarrassing.

"Here, let me get that for ye," he said quickly, breaking eye contact with his godfather. He placed a hand lightly on her lower back, stooping to pick it up whatever it was she was reaching for.

"You're standing on my sweater" she said in a dry, slightly hostile voice. She turned and looked at him. She almost fell over. He had the most piercing blue eyes she had ever seen and crazy, wavy red hair, wearing it a little longer than most of the guys she dated, and just the hint of a beard. Very sexy, she thought. She just wanted to rub her fingers over that scruffy strong jaw line, maybe while kissing that soft mouth. She resisted the urge to stroke his lips with her finger.

He turned red in the face as he lifted his foot and the two of them, together, stood, each holding a piece of the sweater.

"I'm so sorry about your sweater..." He said at the same time she said "Jesus, you're a tall one. Finally. I'm so tired of meeting men that have to stand on a box just to have a conversation with me..." and they both started to laugh.

She shifted, adjusting her stance and started to wobble. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. "Damn Geillis." she muttered under her breath. She should have worn flats, but Noooo, Geillis had selected the entire ensemble and that meant these bloody heels; she could hardly stand in them let alone walk. But she had lost the bet, fair and square, and Geillis was taking full advantage of it. A night out with the girls if Geillis won and as the winner, she got to chose the when, where, how and what. How Geillis knew about this bar was beyond her. It took them almost an hour to get here; they came all the way from Inverness. But this Nordic God standing in front of her, ruined sweater or not, was well worth the drive.

"Aye?" He said.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just talking to myself."

"Oh? Do that often do ye?" He asked and smiles the most endearing half smile she has ever seen. She could not stop staring at this man in front of her. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, where the bloody hell has he been hiding her whole life?

"As a rule, no. But tonight all the rules seem to be broken." she says and smiled at him.

Her smile, it took his breath away. It lit up the dark bar. "Give me yer sweater and I'll have it cleaned and get it back to ye. I'm sorry I'm such a clot-heid and stepped on it to begin with." he said and gently took the sweater from her.

"You don't need to do that, really," she replied. "I was the one that dropped it on the floor. I can wash it when I get home, no worries." She notices that he had licked his lips for the third time as she took her sweater back from him. Each time she had thought he was going to kiss her, but he hadn't tried... yet. The night was still young...

"No, I want to, ye ken. No actually, I need to, I must insist. I stepped on it, I should pay to have it cleaned." This time when he reached for it, she took it and held the sweater against her chest.

"No, no thank you," she said firmly. She needed to get away from this man. She needed air before she did something foolish. "I was on my way to the loo. I need to go" and she points her index finger over her shoulder.

"Oh." he said with a hint of sadness. "Oohhhhh," he adds. "Do ye need me to show ye where it is?"

'Ah, no. I think I can read the signs..." and she points to the the one that says Lavatories.

"Oh right," he said. "Weel I'd better get back to the bar. It's pretty busy tonight."

"Yes, it is fairly crowded in here. Do you come here often?" She asks and then blushed at why she really wants to know. She'd know where to find him if he did not pluck up the courage to ask for her phone number.

"Come here often? Yeah, you could say that. Weel, I best get back..." and he started to back away.

Well, see you around then." and she turns, wobbles a bit, which made him smile and walks away toward the loo.

"Uh ok, then. Perhaps I'll see ye later then, aye Sassenach?" he said to her back as he watches her walk away. That lovely round arse make'n that skirt swing like a flag in a breeze. It was a thing of beauty to watch. He smiled as she wobbled again. The woman had 5 inch stilettos on, which clearly she could not walk in. He was most definitely going to see her again, before this night was over, if he had to pull the fire alarm to do it.

He started to turned and made is way back to the bar, totally ignoring his godfather's raised eyebrow when Laoghaire stopped him. "There ye are, Jamie. I've got more drink orders that need fill'n" and she smiled sweetly and batted her eyes. "Where were ye? I looked everywhere fer ye."

"Laoghaire, Willie's at the bar. He is perfectly capable of mix'n ye drinks or pull'n a beer fer ye. Now get on with ye" he said with irritation in his voice and he glanced back one last time as the Bonnie lass wobbled toward the ladies loo. And he smiled.

Laoghaire followed Jamie's gaze and watched as the brown haired bitch had to put her hand against the wall to steady herself as she walked. Drunk forbye she thought. She then looked back at her Jamie's face. Ooohh, he liked her, she could tell. Well, she'd fix that. Jamie was hers.

Once he got back behind the bar, it had been non-stop pouring drinks since. Hardly a chance to breathe let alone look for the her. He hoped she had'na left already.

"Jenny!" Willie called out and Jamie looked up from pulling two Heineken from the ice, pop'n the caps and sliding them to Laoghaire to add to her tray. She already had the 4 margaritas and 1 vodka tonic and 1 gin and tonic. All in the proper glasses with the proper garnishes, thank you very much Murtagh. No wee umbrellas needed.

"Hey Jen, grab an apron and come relieve me" Jamie said. "I need to help Murphy out in the kitchen and run the dishes. We are going to run out of glasses if this keeps up" and he smiled at her. What he was really going to do is give the bar a quick walk through to see if he could find the woman again. He had let her get away without getting her name or phone number, the dolt that he was.

"Oh no ye don't," she answered sharply. "I'll go help Murphy in the kitchen and I'll find Murtagh to do the dishes. Where is the wee grommel, anyway? Taken a break in the alley, I suppose?"

"No, I needed another case of Ayinger and I new hook ups on Guinness and Stella Artois so he's downstairs. He should be up any minute" he answered.

"Good, then I have time to let my husband ken I am here" she said as she walked away, waving her hand over her shoulder.

Weel, at least Murtagh had not said anything about the lass when he had asked for the new hook ups. That's a good thing, Jamie thought to himself.

"Hello again." A soft voice came from the other side of the bar.

He looked up to see who said 'Hello' and it was her. Elbows tucked into her sides and leaning over the bar like she had read his mind earlier and ken he wanted to look down her blouse. She had lovely wee breasts from what he could see of them. He instinctively ran his moist tongue over his lips. "What can I get ye? On the house, for me step'n on ye sweater earlier."

"Courage. I need liquid courage" she said with a laugh. "What do you have that meets that requirement?"

She smiled at him. It made him stop breathing for a second. She smiled not only with her lovely mouth, but with her eyes. Not afraid to show the little lines at the corners when she did. "Oh, so you work here, do you? Well, if you're offering to buy, I best tell you, I'm not cheap," she said. "Whiskey. A good one, not that well drink crap you use in the mixed drinks either. Make it neat. Please. And thank you." Her gaze never wavered.

He laughed at that. No one, in their right mind would ever think this woman was cheap. She was a lady, for sure. A strong, self-reliant one ta boot. He wanted her, bad and he let her see it in his face. "That would be either Laphroaig or Glenlivet. Name your poison."

Her smile broadened and she laughed. Out loud. Not a silly lassie giggle. A real laugh and she leaned a little further forward… nope, no bra. Now he ken he had to have her. "If you're giving me a choice, I'll take the Laphroaig. I can buy my own drink, you know" she said and showed him her wallet.

"Aye, I don't think yer a vagrant, if that's what ye mean. Let me rephrase that...I'd like to buy ye a drink, if I may..." and he placed his hands on the bar and leaned in so his face was a mere 6 inches from hers. "I think ye're verra, verra pretty and I am quite smitten with ye. I'd like a chance to get to know ye a wee better and perhaps ye'll give me yer name and phone number before ye go. I'd like to see more of ye. A lot more...aye?"

She opened her mouth to say something in reply, when one of the barmaids walked up, knocked her intentionally and starts calling out drink orders to him. Just interrupts their conversation. Damn Geillis. Damn stilettos. It was a good thing Claire was leaning on the bar or she'd have fallen over. Claire turned and stared at the barmaid, her mouth slightly agape at the little blonde's rudeness.

"Laoghaire!" Murtagh called out from the other end of the bar. "I'm make'n ye drinks. Come over here and repeat the order ta me" and he waves his hand at her.

Laoghaire looks at Jamie and then at Murtagh then back to Jamie. "Ye always make my drinks for me, Jamie. We're a team, aye?" Eyes begging for him to make her order; lips pouting, eyelashes fluttering.

"Laoghaire." Murtagh says a little rougher. "I'm make'n ye drinks. Leave Jamie be. Can'na ye see he has a customer."

Jamie smiles at his godfather, to thank him and turns to get the Laphroaig to pour her drink.

Laoghaire gives this new friend of Jamie's the once over from the top of her crazy, ugly brown heid of hair all the way down to those stupid high heel shoes. She then looks at her in the face and whispers, "He's mine, ye ken. You stay away from him." Laoghaire, with a flip of her own blonde hair, turned on her heels and went to fetch her drink order from Murtagh.

Jamie, oblivious to Laoghaire's comments, turns around with a shot glass and the Laphroaig. "Can ye make it down to the end of the bar in ye wee heels, then? And he nods his head to the front end of the bar where it was less crowded and quieter. "There's an empty stool for ye to sit and maybe I ken talk to ye for a bit, while it's slow, aye? Ye can tell me all about why ye need courage...somethi'n tells me it a fair good tale you'll tell."

She laughed and nodded her head. "I can walk in them." She starts to wobble down the bar to the available stool, steadying herself by placing a hand on a patron or two's shoulder when she needed to, as she walked. She downed the first shot in one swallow and slammed the glass down on the bar. "Barkeep, I think I need another" and she tapped the bar next to the glass with her finger.

Jamie raised an eyebrow and poured her a 2nd. "Start talking. What ever are ye afraid of?"

"I lost a bet and here I am." She said resting her cheek on her hand.

Jamie mimicked her by leaning against the bar, placing his head between both fists. Faces no more that a few inches apart. "Why does that need liquid courage?" He asked.

"Because the winner got to select the night's activity, which is why we are here, and I am wearing clothes that I own but would never wear together as an outfit or in this fashion." Claire sat up and waved a hand down the front of her body as if it proved just how foolish she looked.

"Well if loosing a bet brought ye here to this bar, then I'm glad for it" he said. "If that friend selected your clothes, and it's a change for you, then embrace it, for you look bonnie, verra bonnie indeed, Sassenach. Although you might rethink the shoes, before ye hurt yerself. Mark my words, ye're gon'na twist an ankle in them before the evening is through" he said as he reached out and tucked a wandering curl back behind her ear. "I still do'na see the need for courage though."

"Because, part of loosing the bet and the reason I am here and in this outfit, is I have to get up on that stage and sing. Oh and dance too" and she laid her forehead on the bar with a moan.

Jamie could not help himself. He bust out laughing. Loudly.

"It's not that funny" she growled, raising her head from the bar and shooting him a look that clearly screamed she was feigning anger.

He laughed at her again.

And she smiled and giggled. "Now you know why I need courage. Hit me again barkeep. My friends will be coming to lay claim to my body soon, the witching hour is almost upon us. And I will never be able to show my face in this bar, nay, this town, again. Maybe not even where I work if things go really badly." She takes the whole shot, again, in one swallow. "This is exactly why I do not attend Office Christmas Parties." She taps the bar top next to her shot glass. "One more before the executioner arrives, my good sir."

"I think I'd better cut you off, until after yer wee song and dance. I'll pour as many as ye want after."

"Promise?"

"Aye. You are stouthearted for a lass, I'll give ye that. Now let me come around and I'll help ye to yer friends."

"Claire, there ye are. I've been look'n everywhere fer ye." Suddenly, out of nowhere, Geillis Duncan was there with her arm around Claire. "I thought ye said ye needed to use the loo one last time before we went on stage and yet I find ye here, with yer head in an empty glass."

"My liquid courage," Claire turned and said to her friend and held up the empty shot glass. "He cut me off until after the show anyway. Have you met my Nordic God, Geillis? And Claire turned her head and looked at Jamie.

"Jamie?" Geillis said incredulously as she looked up at him. "Jamie's the guy you've been non-stop yammer'n about for the last hour and a half? Seriously? He's your Nordic God?" and she started to laugh.

Jamie stood there looking totally confused. Women often had that effect on him. He never understood their little in-side jokes.

"Yes." Claire simply said.

"Geillis?" Jamie started . "Geillis Duncan, ye ken this woman? Is she here with yoo?" he asks in a voice that is almost pleading for her to say yes. "How is it, with all the others you have tried to set me up with, this one I have never met?"

"Aye, Jamie. Claire's with me. All three lasses I have introduced ye to, and I would'na call them friends, only acquaintances, ye have never called for a 2nd date. Claire is a co-worker as well as a friend, why would I ruin that by introducing her to you? So you can break her heart?" There is a flash of what looks almost like light in her eyes, then she does this apprising the situation glance thing by looking back and forth between Claire and Jamie as they are paying more attention to each other than anything else in the entire bar... and then she smiles, one of her wicked, all knowing smiles.

Jamie knows that can'na be a good thing, no with Geillis.

"Claire" Geillis starts and gentle grabs Claire's closest shoulder to get her attention.

Claire turns her attention from Jamie to Geillis and blinks.

"Claire, I'd like to introduce ye to an old friend of mine, James Fraser. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, to be exact, the Laird of Broch Tuarach, his family's estate. Jamie, I'd like to introduce you to one of my co-workers at the Inverness Hospital, Claire Beauchamp, Doctor Claire Beauchamp to be exact, one of the staff OBGYN's. And she took a step back to let that information sink in, her eyes never leaving their faces as they both turned and looked at each other in a whole new light.

"This is like Christmas has come early," she said under her breath. "Now that ye are properly introduced, I need to have 1/3 of my singing group back because we are up next. Come Claire, Louise is waiting. You can talk to Milord after ye sing" and she grabs Claire's arm and pulls her from the stool.

"I'm sorry Jamie, I should have said something..."

"I'm sorry Claire, I should've told ye..."

They said at the same time.

Jamie watch Geillis drag Claire away. Claire wobbling and stumbling the entire way. "Mo Sorcha" he whispers quietly.

"What about the light?" Willie asks as he stands beside Jamie. "Who is the Neighan Donn? I've never seen her in here before. She's bonnie Jamie. She yer's?

"She will be before the end of the night if I have anything ta say about it, Willie." He turns and walks back to put the bottle of Laphroaig away for after her song. He needed to get a better view of the stage.

"Next up is... One of Broch Mordha's own, Geillis Duncan..." Ian says into the microphone. Some of the locals and two entire tables near the front all start clapping.

And up walks Geillis, a lass Jamie's never seen before and Claire. Claire seems to be holding her own in those stiletto's right now. She fidgets with her shirt collar and smooths her skirt and then takes a mike. The three of them stand there, Geillis has a navy, sleeveless dress with white polka dots, Claire with her full navy polka dot skirt with white top and the nameless girl, maybe Louise, with a navy blouse with white polka dots and a fitted plain navy skirt. All three in High Heels. All three have mikes.

Ian clears his throat.

"Oh," Gillis smiles and whispers to Ian what song there are going to be singing.

Ian smiles. "Really?" And he raises an eyebrow. "It's no on the list Geillis, ye ken."

"Tell me ye and the lads do'na ken it by heart! It's probably the first full song ye every played together, aye?" and she turns back around to to face the crowd.

"Alright fella, the lady wants Twist and Shout by the lads from Liverpool. 1. 2. 3. and 4"

Claire sings lead, and she's got a nice voice. Gillis and the other lass, Louise sing the back up. All three dance the same steps and are almost synchronized... every once and a while one of them is off. Claire throws a little change and instead of girl she changes it to man while looking directly at Jamie. Her little skirt is swing in time with the band as she steps forward and back, side to side and shimmies her shoulders while they perform.

Well, shake it up, baby, now (Shake it up, baby)
Twist and shout (Twist and shout)
C'mon c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now (Come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)

Well, work it on out, honey (Work it on out)
You know you look so good (Look so good)
You know you got me goin', now (Got me goin')
Just like I knew you would (Like I knew you would)

Well, shake it up, baby, now (Shake it up, baby)
Twist and shout (Twist and shout)
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now (Come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)

You know you twist your little girl (Twist, little girl)
You know you twist so fine (Twist so fine)
Come on and twist a little closer, now (Twist a little closer)
And let me know that you're mine (Let me know you're mine)

Well, shake it up, baby, now (Shake it up, baby)
Twist and shout (Twist and shout)
C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon, baby, now (Come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (Work it on out)

You know you twist your little girl (Twist, little girl)
You know you twist so fine (Twist so fine)
Come on and twist a little closer, now (Twist a little closer)
And let me know that you're mine (Let me know you're mine)

Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby)
Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby)
Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (Shake it up baby)

When it's over the bar erupts into cheer. Jamie looks over to see Jenny and Murtagh stand'n right next to him.

He is beaming with pride. Ear to ear. His hands hurt from clap'n so hard.

"Care to tell me just who she is now or are ye gon'na make me wait until after closing?" Jenny turns to look at him as she rubs her rather large baby bump. She wants to see her brother's face as he tells her he has finally found his heart.

He turns and looks down at Jenny. "Claire, Jenny. Her name is Claire" and he rolls the name around in his mouth like a finely aged whiskey. He walks out from behind the bar to the stage and lifts Claire down from the stage. She rests her arms on his shoulders and runs her fingers through his soft red curls. He doesn't set her feet on the ground, instead he wraps his arms tightly around her waist and kisses her as he walks her away from the crowd. Tingling all the way.