Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters created by the ER writing and production staff. I just borrow them on occasion to have some writing fun.

He heard her before he ever saw her. That high boisterous laugh. He heard it above everything else in the bar. Made him miss his shot actually. It wasn't that big of a deal. He won the game….and the fifty bucks. It was a pretty high stakes game for him. He didn't have the money to pay off if he lost. But he knew he would win. The fancy, schmancy college prep kid didn't have a chance against him. Stupid kid didn't even have smarts enough to see the money up front. After slipping the bill into his pocket, he relinquished his table to other players and went in search of the laugh.

He meandered to the bar and ordered a whiskey shot. It was a Friday night. The place was loaded. Girls. Guys. Some actually in uniform. Gotta give them credit for courage. College kids. Youth reigned at Sheely's on Fridays. His eyes searched the smoky, dancing throng and stopped as he heard it again. The laugh.

She was standing by the juke box with a group of girls. Her fingers were wrapped around the neck of a beer bottle as she perused the music choices in the juke box. Damn but she was the smallest thing he'd seen in a while. Short Didn't look that much different from the friends she was with. Paisley print bell bottoms….green sweater….god…what was that color??? Looked like the pea soup his mother used to make him eat. Long dark hair held off her face with a wide band. He continued to study her as she punched a few buttons and then turned around. Their eyes met and she smiled and then looked away. He grinned and shook his head.

"Hey, Jim boy…" He threw his drink back in his throat and set the glass on the bar behind him as he was joined by a friend. "Heard you snagged a hot one at the tables tonight." Jim nodded and leaned back against the bar to watch her again.

"You gonna share the wealth and buy me a cold one?" Jim nodded and handed his buddy some cash.

"Ever seen her before, Ronnie?" he asked and tipped his head toward the juke box. Ron squinted his eyes to look and took a drink from his beer bottle.

"They look like college crowd," he said. "Not my type…..….or yours." He snickered as Jim continued to watch them. His eyes met hers again and she ambled toward the bar with her empty bottle.

"Be right back," he said. Ron shook his head.

"It's your money, man," he sighed and turned back to the bar. Jim made his way to the end of the bar where she was waiting for another beer. He flipped a bill to the bartender as she reached into her pockets.

"I got it," he said. She looked up at him with an amused smile.

"Jim Wyczenski," he said.

"Maggie," she said over the din of the juke box. "Maggie Bryant." He ordered a beer for himself and then tipped his head toward a table near the back. She studied him for a moment and then nodded. They made their way o the quiet corner and sat down opposite one another.

"College?" he finally asked. She nodded.

"I take a couple of classes," she said. 'I'm an art major. How did you know?" He chuckled and shrugged.

"Home on leave?" she asked. He frowned and then shook his head. "Your tour is over?" He shook his head. She frowned a little and set her bottle on the table. She leaned forward and studied him. Thick wavy hair that was long around his ears and collar. Black tee shirt with the cigarette pack bulge in it's chest pocket. Black pants and muddy work boots.

"Well….you don't look like a college deferment or a ministry student…" He scoffed and leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his beer.

"I am guessing that you aren't in Viet Nam because of a family hardship….." she guessed. He shook his head. Her eyes widened.

"You're a draft dodger!" she squealed. He laughed again.

"4-F," he said. "Flat feet….VERY flat feet." She tipped her head to look under the table and he laughed. She grinned and took another drink. She looked up as the music in the juke box changed.

"Do you dance?" she asked. She was out of her seat and had him by the hand before he could protest. She dragged him to the middle of the crowded dance floor and took a drink from the beer bottle he still carried. Jim grinned and shook his head as she started to move. She put her hands on his hips and guided him. He move slowly…mesmerized by the look on her face as she moved and mouthed the words of the song. Wild Thing. She raised her arms over her head and closed her eyes. He studied her face and the long lines of her neck and her small, firm breasts under the sweater. Her hips moved sensuously and he swallowed. Damn. His feet stopped moving and he just watched her. The song ended and she laughed as she saw his face. She took his bottle from him and he took her by the hand.

"This is where I dance," he said as he picked up a pool cue. He checked it over and then handed it to her. Maggie giggled and held it as if it were a foreign thing she had never seen before. He picked up another cue and watched her as he chalked the end of his and set the rack of balls in place. She studied his face and his hands as they worked to set up the game. He set the white ball on the circle and nodded toward her.

"Surely you don't do this without a bet of some kind," she asked coquettishly as she chalked up the end of her cue.

"A bet?" He was intrigued. "What kind of a bet?" She leaned back thoughtfully, her hips thrust a little forward.

"If I win…..you take me to your place," she said. "If you win…..you take me home." He eyed her suspiciously.

"I never throw a game," he drawled daringly. Maggie shrugged.

"Suit yourself…." She purred. She leaned over the table and took the first shot. Jim shook his head as he realized she had purposely given him a clear view of her braless chest in the process. Tart. He liked that. He definitely liked that.

She was not a good billiards player. Worse than he thought anyone could ever be. Too jumpy. Couldn't be still enough to really concentrate. She waggled her rear end to the music from the juke box as she lined up her shots. He tried helping her….once. Their bodies pressed together as he leaned over her but she had ground her rear end into his groin suggestively. She had turned around in his arms till they were face to face. There was something between the two of them. He could feel it. Something more than sex. He'd know if it were just that.

She was so different than anyone he had ever been with before. Cleaner somehow. And he was usually the one in charge. He didn't feel in charge with Maggie. Not at all. Not even when he had taken her home. She had hopped on his motorcycle with ease and snapped his helmet on her head. She'd kissed him when he dropped him off at the small white frame house she shared with other friends. Kissed him long and deep and forcefully. He'd never wished to have lost a game of pool more than he had at that moment. Maggie Bryant was a force to be reckoned with. A force indeed.