Disclaimer: SOA belongs to Kurt Sutter, I just get to play with the characters a bit.
The clubhouse offers free alcohol and companionship any day of the week. Typically, this would be where Chibs would spend at least a portion of his evening. He enjoyed the camaraderie with his brothers and the warmth and comfort of a willing Croweater. However, tonight was one of those nights that Chibs wanted to be lost in a sea of people. The strange type of solitude that is offered by a bar outside of the Charming city limits. There, Chibs had the opportunity to play observer rather than participant. Watching the patrons engage in activities like idle conversation, clumsily attempting to flirt with women, and swaying along with whatever band was willing to play for the free drinks and meager pay.
Chibs waved off a proffered beer from Juice as he steered himself toward the clubhouse door.
"Where are you going, man?" Juice piped up, stopping Chibs in his tracks.
"Out, brother." Chibs was intentionally vague, hoping to avoid a mohawked tag along.
"Out where? Its dead here tonight." Juice said as he bounded toward the Scot. The younger man periodically has the disposition of an attention starved puppy. Chibs found it simultaneously endearing and irritating.
Chibs sighed, knowing he was not going to easily shake off his young friend. "Change of scenery, Juicy-boy. I'm feeling nostalgic for an Irish pub. Was thinking about Slattery's." The expectant grin from Juice let him know that his plans of public solitude were dashed. "Come on boyo, let's go."
They settled at the bar near the stage, ordering drinks. Chibs took up his customary bar position to watch the goings-on. His back leaned towards the bar, supporting himself on both elbows. Juice awkwardly emulated the same position, spinning around on his barstool when he realized that he was facing a different direction than his companion. Chibs casually watched the band set up to play, as Juice jabbered away about his recent trip to Las Vegas.
"Seriously, this strip club must have been a retirement home for showgirls. The girls were a little rough looking and didn't know how to work a pole, but there were a lot of high kicks and a crazy amount of feathers. Tig of course fucking loved it." Chibs shook his head and laughed at the comment, only peripherally listening to the story.
Juice turned to the bartender. "Can we get another round?" The bartender gave a curt nod and went to turn toward the shelf that was stocked with an impressive amount of whiskey, scotch, and bourbon.
"Two fingers of Jameson and a Bud. On the tab?" The bartender asked as he placed the drinks.
Juice nodded in response. He stopped the bartender from wandering off to the next patron. "Hey, what kind of music are they playing tonight?"
"Irish." Was all the brief response he received as the bar man took the next order.
Pointing with his beer, Juice noted the banner hanging above the stage. "Flutered? What kind of band name is that?"
"It's Irish slang for drunk." Chibs responded. "Know how the Eskimos are supposed to have 50 words for snow? The Irish are the same way, but with drunk." He briefly tore his eyes away from the woman on the small stage that had grabbed his attention. When Juice continued to regale him with tales from Vegas, Chibs' eyes wandered back to the woman currently raising the microphone stands. She was in no way dressed to draw attention, but her simple uncomplicated beauty kept Chibs enraptured. Her beauty was natural and unaltered, unlike a Croweater, whose beauty was superficial and painted on.
She wore a plain black v-neck that allowed a just barely a peek at the lacy pink bra underneath. The jeans she wore were tight and well worn, with holes at the knee that were earned rather than purchased. Her shoulder length dirty blonde loose curls bounced as she tightened the microphone stand. He tilted his head appreciating her lean muscular body. She was tall, 5'8" maybe, he guessed her age to be around 30.
Chibs couldn't help but smile to himself when he noticed she glanced more than once in his direction. Embarrassed she would quickly look away biting her lower lip when she was caught peeking. The next time she peeked he wiggled his fingers in a mock wave. She smiled and continued to diligently set up the stage.
Chibs felt an elbow in his ribs. "Dude, she's hot." Juice pointed at the object of Chibs' current focus.
"Aye." Chibs responded distractedly as he examined her face. Full Cheekbones, a slightly upturned nose, and almost unnaturally bright green eyes.
Juice grinned widely. "Are you going to keep eye fucking her and ignoring me?"
This earned a chuckle. "Most likely. She's nicer to look at than you, you minger." Chibs roughly patted his friend on the shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I'm half paying attention to you."
Encouraged, Juice continued on with his tales, which Chibs seemed to hear intermittently. "…got ahold of some good weed… some sort of medieval jousting dinner theater thing… Tig freaked out… needed to find a time machine… Tig asked the waiter where he could buy a flux capacitor…"
Chibs turned towards his friend, raising an eyebrow. "Wha…" He was cut off by a yelp coming from the direction of the stage.
"SHIT, my hand." A band member was on one knee clutching his left hand to his chest. Attempting to move his fingers he gasped. "Fuck, I thinks its broken." The other band members gathered around him, near the hardware case that once held the speakers had fallen on his hand. Several minutes of whispers transpired between the quartet. The brunette woman that had previously been setting up the speakers shuffled off with the injured man, making their way out the door.
The blonde beauty scurried towards the bar directly next to Chibs, grabbing the bartender's attention. "Kenny! Kenny!" She shouted. "Listen, Blue hurt his hand he can't play his fiddle, Shannon is taking him to the hospital. Don't worry we can still play."
Kenny Slattery shook his head. "What exactly are you going to play with only an accordion and a guitar? Lynn, you're down a fiddler and a bodhrán player. Just pack up, I'll turn on the jukebox tonight. You can have a few drinks on me."
Lynn reached into her back pocket. "I've got a pennywhistle too!" She smiled impishly. Glancing briefly at the leather clad man to her left who guffawed at the gesture.
"I'm pretty sure you can't play two instruments at once, Lynn. Go on, pack it up." Kenny began to walk away.
"NO! Kenny please, let us play, I really need the money. I can't afford to miss this gig." She reached for his arm, tears welling in her eyes.
"Maybe I can help out, lass." Her eyes darted to the Scotsman next to her. She had noticed the kutte on his back earlier. She knew about the Sons, she had lived in Charming since she was 15 years old. She knew they could be trouble and conversely be benefactors of the communicty. The dichotomy had always intrigued her, but until today it had always been from afar.
"I'm sorry…. What?" Her confusion was evident. How could the stranger, incredibly handsome stranger, help her out of her current predicament.
"Uh, Chibs they already went to the hospital, I don't think your medic skills…" Chibs held up a hand silencing Juice.
He couldn't believe his luck. The opportunity to play hero, that would go a long way to getting in her good graces, and hopefully her pants. "You're looking for a fiddle player, yeah? Yours truly happens to play a mean Irish fiddle." He chucked a confident thumb towards himself whilst winking at Lynn. "What's on your playlist?"
Lynn tripped over her words, both confused by the Scotsman proclaiming to be an Irish fiddler, and elated by her potential dumb luck. "Um, its, we, um… Some old Irish drinking songs, some Pogues, Dubliners, some other stuff too if we're in the mood." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper, handing it to the Scot letting her fingers slide against his.
Juice looked thoroughly confused. Apparently trying to wrap his brain around the idea of Chibs the musician.
"Let's take a look, spent a good long while in Belfast, playing here and there with some bands. Trying to keep myself out of trouble. Didn't work though, still got into trouble." He glanced down the list, recognizing most of the songs. "This and this. Don't know these. These two need a drum beat, so are probably out. I can help with the others though as long as you don't intend to get too creative with the tempo. That is if your friend, Blue is it?" Lynn nodded. "If Blue is right handed and doesn't mind another man handling his fiddle."
She responded by hugging him fiercely. Chibs' back bounced into the bar, he made an audible 'oof' sound. "Careful, lass. You've already had one broken fiddler tonight, don't try for two."
Her cheeks began to redden. His hands still rested on her hips as a result of her assault. She had the overwhelming urge to hug him again, more gently, so it would last longer.
"Thank you so much." She grinned covering her mouth with both hands, taking a step back. "I don't even know your name! I'm Lynn." She held out her hand to shake his in greeting.
He smirked at her. "Shaking hands now? We were all hugs a minute ago." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "The name is Chibs. The grinning bastard behind me is Juice." Nodding his head towards his friend. Juice responded with a wide grin and a brief enthusiastic wave.
"CHIBS, you wonderful man!" She exclaimed. "Stay right there, I'll be right back." She patted his knee before heading back to the stage, looking for Blue's case.
"Really?" Juice seemed incredulous. "Since when do you play an instrument? Especially the violin?"
"Fiddle" Chibs quickly corrected.
"What's the difference?" Juice inquired.
Chibs downed the remainder of his whiskey. "You don't spill beer on a violin."
"Seriously, man. You didn't answer me. Since when are you some sort of secret musician?" Juice was very curious.
Chibs was tempted to leave him hanging and walk towards Lynn. He decided to be generous and provide an answer. "My Ma was a music teacher. Tortured us kids with hours of lessons, our flat was littered with all sorts of instruments."
Lynn reappeared with a man that shared similar dirty blonde hair. "Chibs, this is my accordion player and brother, Mikey." Mikey gave Chibs a hearty handshake with a grateful smile. "And this is your fiddle for the night. Come on, let's get you tuned up."
Walking towards the stage, Chibs cracked his knuckles, and shook out his hands. There was some brief chatting, but they were on a schedule. He took the bow and fiddle held out by Lynn. Carefully he plucked the strings and gently turned the pegs until the fiddle seemed properly tuned. He brought the chin piece to its resting position, experimentally he drew the bow across the strings and played a quick couple of scales to validate.
Juice listened in amazement. He had half expected the sound of a dying cat. Instead, pleasing musical tones erupted from the strings. The other two were similarly executing sound checks.
Minutes later, Lynn introduced themselves to the gathered crowd, announcing the first song 'The Rocky Road to Dublin'. After an audible count and a brief singing intro by the brother and sister duo, the two began playing. A minute in, the tempo kicked up, and a more than shocked Juice watched his friend join in with unexpected ease.
Author's Note: OK be gentle. This is my first attempt at writing and posting anything, I'm not sure if I'm on the right path here, and that's where I look to you dear readers to help me.