Author's note -

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

Sorry for the gap between updates - life's been a bit full on lately, but I was inspired to write a new chapter for this set to celebrate St Patrick's Day, since I imagine it is a very special day for our lovely Bransons. The fic is based on a 'leprechaun' prompt from the lovely shana-rosee (thank you!).

Luck of the Irish

"I'm going to kill you for this, Nugent."

"Come on, Tommy boy - you know it's your turn! Don't take yourself so seriously."

The tall redhead tipped his friend a wink before ringing the bell behind the bar and walking out to the little stage at the end of the room. He tapped the microphone, which gave a burst of static.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! Last orders, last orders if you will. But before you go - in keeping with the Auld Shillelagh St Patrick's Day tradition, here's our resident leprechaun for the evening, Tom Branson, to grant three wishes!"

Tom followed the same path as Alfred, reluctantly putting on the tall green hat handed to him by his friend. Ready for his ritual humiliation at the hands of the raucous crowd in the pub, he stepped forward into the spotlight.

"Is that a rainbow in your pocket or are you just pleased to see us?" called a voice at the back, raising ripples of laughter like a stone dropped into a pond.

"Quiet down please, ladies and gentlemen, quiet down. Now for the first of the wishes - a song!"

"Come on, all together now!" Tom began to sing, in a baritone good enough for Alfred to raise his eyebrows appreciatively.

"I've been a wild rover for many's the year,
And I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
But now I'm returning with gold in great store,
And I never will play the wild rover no more..."

Amid plenty of banter, Tom got through the first verse and chorus more or less unscathed, many in the audience joining in before the end.

Alfred kept things moving. "Next - a joke!"

"Why can't you borrow money from a leprechaun?" Tom deadpanned.

"Because they're always a little short!" came the shouted reply from just about everyone.

He'd won the room over by now, and there was a burst of good natured applause and laughter, which he acknowledged with an ironic bow.

"And the traditional last wish - a lucky kiss for an unknown maiden!"

Alfred walked over to Tom, pulling a blindfold from his pocket and tying it onto him, and stepped to the front of the stage. He shaded his eyes with his hand so he could see past the spotlight out into the darkened room beyond.

"All right then, which of you lovely ladies wants a lucky kiss from our leprechaun?"

Tom heard a few voices in the crowd, and a chant from over by the bar that he couldn't quite catch. Then, Alfred spoke.

"You there, the brunette trying to hide behind the pillar… up you come!"

Tom could hear a voice protesting and a couple more voices urging the unknown girl forward. Then, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the stage.

"Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention please! This lovely maiden will get a kiss from our leprechaun which will bring her luck all year round."

Tom waited, taking off his hat, unsure what to expect. He felt a tendril of warm breath against his cheek, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Only then did a pair of full lips, tasting a little of whiskey, press against his own from below. Instinctively, he tipped his face downwards, seeking their softness.

As they kissed, he breathed in her scent, which was sweet and somehow familiar - a flower, maybe? The sensation of each one of her fingers moving to stroke the back of his neck made the short hairs there stand on end. Her other hand slid down from his shoulder to his arm, resting on his bicep and squeezing gently as she stepped forward, bringing her body flush against his.

He couldn't help reaching out to wrap his arms around her. The curve of her waist fell perfectly under his hand as he slid it to the small of her back, while he traced his other hand slowly up and down her spine. Her lips parted under his and a sigh escaped her as she pushed herself even closer to him. The feel of her breasts, pressing against his chest through their shirts, made his head start to spin.

"Mmmmhhh..."

He groaned into her mouth. She responded by bringing her hand up from his neck to behind his head, gently scratching his scalp beneath the blindfold and sending tingles across his skin. The tip of her tongue ran along the edge of his lower lip, then into his mouth to deepen their kiss.

Christ, she's incredible...

Running his fingers up her spine again, he tangled them in her silky waves of hair, pulling her head back a little. He sucked her tongue all the way into his mouth, moving his own along hers. Their ragged breaths mingled in his lungs as his body hummed with desire.

Just as Tom was tightening his arms around the girl even more, Alfred brought him back to reality by putting a hand on his shoulder and clearing his throat ostentatiously.

"A little over-eager from our leprechaun - perhaps that's the St Patrick's Day spirit taking over there," Alfred said into the mic, pulling Tom's arm so that he reluctantly stepped back and let his hands fall to his sides. He realised then that the crowd had fallen silent for the first time that night, watching the kiss.

"Let's see your unknown maiden now, shall we?" Alfred lifted the blindfold, and Tom had his first sight of the girl's face. Star-bright eyes, rosy lips still parted, creamy skin suffused with a soft flush, she was a sprite from the land of faerie, fallen to earth to bewitch mortal men. And he was already under her spell.

"Milady," he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips, letting them linger on her skin and keeping hold of her hand when the kiss ended. She blushed and dropped her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing over her cheeks, then looked directly at him with a gaze that he couldn't break.

"Umm... may I offer you a drink?" Tom stammered, feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied as he stared at her like a schoolboy.

"Thank you, Mr Leprechaun, that would be lovely." He led her from the stage and over to the bar, where he poured two shots of Black Bush from a bottle standing nearby.

Lifting his glass, he clinked it against hers, watching her make that down-up look again, then brush a stray curl away from her face. He found his fingers itching to do it for her, to touch her dark hair one more time.

"What's your name?" He sipped his drink, trying to recover his composure in small talk.

"Sybil. And yours?"

"Tom. So... what brings you here tonight to our fine establishment?"

"My friends from nursing college dragged me here. See, there they are!" Sybil waved across the room to two girls, a blonde and a redhead, both of whom were giving her enthusiastic thumbs-up signs.

"Well, I've something to thank them for then, don't I?"

Her eyes locked with his. "So do I." His heart raced in his chest as that same intoxicating smile curved her lips, making him long to kiss her again.

"Have you been working here long?"

"For a year or so - it's decent money and I live nearby, helps to keep the wolf from the door while I finish my thesis."

"What's it about?"

"Twentieth century history and politics, focusing on the Irish War of Independence."

"I don't know much about that, but it sounds fascinating." She gave him a measured glance, then spoke again.

"I do have one question, though..."

"Anything."

"I think I've been short changed, Mr Leprechaun. Aren't I supposed to get a pot of gold?"

"Hmmm, a good point." Tom thought for a moment. "How about I treat you to a bag of chips instead?" He found himself holding his breath, waiting for her answer.

She nodded just as Alfred came up beside her. He gave Tom a grin.

"I'll lock up tonight, mate - you've already done your part of the festivities!"

"Thanks Alfred, I owe you." The two friends exchanged a wink.

Tom offered Sybil his hand, and she took it. The feeling of her fingers wrapping around his sent a rush of joy through his body, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

As he opened the door for her, he looked back at Alfred. If a bit of that famous Irish luck comes my way, I might owe you more than you know...

A/N -

This is based on a real pub in North London - famous for its drink and its craic on St Patrick's Day! Although I'm not sure if they have a resident 'leprechaun'. :) The song Tom sings is "The Wild Rover", a traditional Irish drinking song - you can find it on youtube.