Author's note: Ta-daaaa! Early update. I'm going to embark on a little personal adventure tomorrow and will not be able to update during the weekend.

First of all, let me thank you all for reading and putting up with this un-betafied gem.

Most of this chapter is a result of massive editing. I was originally only going to do a short scene of the guys heading out to a bar, but it spun out of control and now the 'little scene' spans over a couple of pages. I know, I know, massive author's note…BORING. Let's get on with it then.

I do occasionally play darts, but I have to admit I've never played Killer, so I had to read up on that game on the Internet. Sorry, in case I've gotten a few things wrong. I'm aware there are different variations to the game, so I decided on the one that was easiest to explain…

Let me quickly point out a few references to things I love (AND DO NOT OWN) and simply had to cramp into this chapter. We've got:

One Oscar Wilde quote

A reference to "The Pogues" and their brilliant song "Sally MacLennane"

A reference to "The Curse of Monkey Island" (Do you remember that game?)

Metallicaaaaa!

"The Fields of Athenry" covered by the Pogues, Dropkick Murphys, the Dubliners… Well, anyone really.


They were a rather odd group: three men and one woman. It sounded like the beginning of some clichéd romance novel or a teaser for a romantic comedy at the movies. Well, the evening turned out to be vastly entertaining and not all that romantic.

Stuart, Chris, Stephen and Nina shared a cab which brought them to a bar the man behind the hotel reception had pointed out to them. It turned out a sports bar much to the men's delight and her dismay.

They had just ordered a pitcher of beer which the waitress was now bringing to their table. She was balancing the various glass objects on her tray with practiced ease. Nina knew without a doubt in her mind that if she were the one carrying that tray, there would have long since been broken glasses, spilled beer and an overall mess.

"A pitcher for you guys?" waitress had to ask, because they hadn't placed their order with her before. Her voice was rather nasal and squeaky and carried well over the background noise of the bar.

Her question was answered by a lot of nods, so she placed the order on the table and quickly scurried off again. The place was busy and they had retreated to a booth in the corner, so they would be less conspicuous.

Nina was sitting next to Stephen, underneath the table her left leg was resting against his right one. He occasionally placed his hand on her knee, but apart from that they were rather cautious about being affectionate with each other in public. Of course nothing escaped Stuart's keen observational abilities.

"Well, you two love birds," the irony was dripping from his voice and made Chris grin and Stephen and Nina scoot apart, "what's the point and purpose of this little outing? Not that I'm too keen on sitting around and watching the telly at my hotel room..."

"It's strictly speaking therapeutic," Nina told him and Chris nearly choked on his first sip of beer in surprise. "Stephen's back is hurting. I figured beer's better than painkillers. I'm all about homeopathy. That's how I roll," she shrugged her shoulders with a devilish grin on her face, which immediately clarified to anyone sharing the table with her that she wasn't being serious. "Besides he's Irish... What did you expect?"

Laughter ensued and drowned out Stephen's meek protest. He eventually decided to slightly bump his leg against hers and throw her an admonish glance. "Oi, I resent that..."

"Of course you do," she winked at him. "Now drink your medicine."

"Listen to her, Farrelly. You'd be hard pressed to find another bird like her who tells you to shut your trap and have a drink. Brilliant advice," Stuart toasted Nina with his glass across the table.

"Shut your gob, Stu!" Stephen told him after he had drunk and put down his glass again.

"Here we go again..." Chris rolled his eyes.

"Again?" Nina asked in alarm.

"You've got to know that those two are the worst drunks in existence," he told her drinking from his own beer, probably in order to be able to tolerate the others' company.

Stephen and Stuart were still too busy squabbling, so they couldn't protest against Chris' remark. Nina used the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. "How so?"

"Well for one thing they always start singing at some point. First they start out with soccer songs, then all bets are off. I hope you brought your earplugs."

Nina shook her head with a grin. "Soccer songs?"

"Yeah, didn't you know? They're both soccer fanatics."

"It's football," both men corrected him in unison. Apparently that was something they both saw eye to eye on.

"Okay, football," Nina rolled her eyes. "As older sister to a brother I get being obsessed with sports, but I don't get football. What's so great about that?"

Both men shot her disbelieving looks like she was a Martian who had just come down to earth and threatened the human species with extinction.

"She's your responsibility, Steve. Be gentle. Remember she doesn't know any better," Stuart rested his hand on his friend's shoulder as if he was offering condolences.

"Careful, Red was once a football player himself," Chris whispered to her discreetly.

"How do you explain football to a non-believer, Stu? You wanna tell me?" Stephen asked, throwing Nina a speculative sidelong glance.

"You've got to take her to see a match," the Brit suggested with a frown on his face that indicated that this was a very serious problem that had to be solved with diligence and diplomacy.

Nina took a sip of her beer. She had a feeling that if she didn't take action soon this night would turn into a long-winded discussion about how great football was and judging by Chris' equally preoccupied face she was rather close to the truth.

"So you were a football player before you started wrestling, Steve? You've never told me," Nina said. She had the intention of slowly steering the conversation in another direction. "Any other hidden talents I should be aware of?"

He grinned and took another drink from his beer. "I worked as a bodyguard and an IT technician before I got into wrestling," he told her with a shrug.

She shot him an incredulous look. "Okay, I get the bodyguard thing. But IT technician? It's kind of hard imagining you doing that..."

"Haven't you noticed me nimble fingers?" He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers at her.

Nina decided to raise an eyebrow. "You're pulling my leg."

"No, it's true. It's hard to believe, but he is kind of useful to have around when you've got problems with your computer," Chris told her with a sigh.

"Okay, so now you have me curious. What did you guys do before you started wrestling?" Her eyes inevitably landed on Stuart.

"Well, precious, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours..."

Nina smiled. So that was how we wanted to play it… "My parents were both professors for American literature at university. So you could say I've kind of picked up the family trade. I've got a BA, PhD in English literature and did a brief stint as a lecturer at the University of Hartford..."

The three men regarded her with matching looks of disbelief. "Why in the bleeding hells did you give up that job?" Stuart finally asked the question that was on the tip of everybody's tongue.

She just shrugged her shoulders casually. "Cause it was boring? To spite my mum? I don't know..." To the outside word it must have seemed like she was joking, but she in fact she was covering up another issue she didn't want to talk about.

"You know I really like you, honey, but I think you've just made up that story," Chris patted her shoulder condescendingly.

She grinned at him. There was something subtly dangerous to that smile. It was easy to miss, but not to someone who spent a lot of time with her. Contrary to the other two men, Stephen, despite already feeling the beer taking its first effect, could tell there was danger looming at the horizon.

"Chris, have a little faith in me. Do you think I could quote Oscar Wilde by heart if I was lying? Cause I can. Would you like to hear? It's one of my favorites."

Stuart and Chris nodded in unison, apparently still not able to believe her.

She started talking. Her voice caressed those words and clearly enunciated them in a way that had her small audience captivated. Perhaps all those years in drama club were finally paying off or perhaps it was because Oscar Wilde was one of her all time literary heroes. No matter what exactly it was, the way she spoke had the three men hanging from her lips. "Behind joy and laughter there may be a temperament, coarse, hard and callous. But behind sorrow there is always sorrow. Pain, unlike pleasure, wears no mask...There are times when sorrow seems to me to be the only truth. Other things may be illusions of the eye or the appetite, made to blind the one and cloy the other, but out of sorrow have the worlds been built, and at the birth of a child or a star there is pain."

When she was finished there was a moment of silence around the table. She raised her left eyebrow impishly. "Gentlemen, I thought you being wrestlers would enjoy this little literary excursion into the philosophical nature of the word 'pain'. Why the long faces?" She took a sip from her beer as if it was something classy like a Martini, looking at the liquid inside the glass with fake interest while she waited for the ball to drop.

"Bugger me!" Stuart summed up what had just happened with a raucous bout of laughter. "Now telling you that I used to be a marine biologist seems pretty unspectacular."

"No, it's still quite spectacular," she assured him with a smile. "So a marine biologist..." Nina tried to envision Stuart in a white lab coat and succeeded to her own surprise.

"You are down-right scary," Chris told her with an appreciative grin. For a second she thought he was referring to her ability of imaging Stuart dressed up like proper scientist, but what he was really talking about was her ability to quote literature off the top of her head.

Only Stephen regarded her with a frown on his face. "Why did you really quit your job?"

"Why did you quit yours?" Nina shot back. She was still as quick as lightning after a glass of beer. Hadn't she told him she was a lightweight? Apparently that wasn't true for beer.

"Cause I wanted to pursue me dream," he said without having to give his answer much thought. It was met with general approval around the table. There were nods and sympathetic glances.

"Same reason here," she reassured him.

"Still it's kind of hard to believe that after being an university lecturer, your dream entails working as a writer for the WWE," Stephen gave her a stern look. He didn't want to let this issue go, especially since he could sense there was more to it than met the eye.

It seemed like he would have to wait a while for her answer. She first regarded the liquid inside her glass for a while pensively, then his face. "It's a good job, but no."

"So?" Stuart asked bluntly.

"I'm a writer," she shrugged. "I want to write, not tell other people what good writing looks like. But enthusiasm and a dream don't pay any bills."

"Does that mean you've got a book lying around in one of those drawers at home?" Chris asked.

She smiled. "Maybe."

"Maybe always means 'yes'. It's just a sneaky way around actually saying it," Stuart proclaimed.

Nina laughed. The sulky Brit was starting to grow on her more and more. She raised her glass to toast him. "I love that line. Mind if I steal it?"

"If you don't put those words in the mouth of a complete tosser...," he said with his typical scowl.

"Right, cause it's not like they didn't come out of the gob of one either...," Stephen threw Stuart a shit-eating grin. The Brit's facial expression turned from a mild scowl to a hide-the-children-a-storm-is-coming scowl.

"Charming, guys! You're the best company a lady could wish for." Nina took great care to break the eye contact between the two men by leaning forward with a derisive smirk on her face. "Hey, Chris? How do you put up with them?" She threw the blonde wrestler a speculative gaze as she pointed her thumbs at both Stuart and Stephen.

"I pour my grief and sorrow into angry, loud rock music," he grinned. Great, unfortunately that wasn't an option for her.

"Hmm I'm not that good a singer. I'll just have a second beer then, I guess," she shrugged and reached for the pitcher.

"Allow me," Stephen poured her a second glass. The smile on his face and his sudden and rather clumsy display of manners indicated he felt like he had something to make up for. She just grinned at him and nodded.

"Allow me," Stuart mockingly repeated on the other side of the table. The Irishman fixed him with a death glare as he poured himself a second glass as well.

Nina let out a loud groan and banged her head against the table. Chris patted her back with a condescending smile. "Welcome the insanity that is the WWE, sweetheart. Enjoy!"

"Great!" she answered. She looked up and inevitably her eyes connected with that beer that was still standing in front of her. It was golden and beautiful and promised sweet oblivion. She reached for it and started drinking. They were waiting for her to put the glass back down, but she only did after she had emptied it.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand under Stephen's incredulous stare.

"I can't believe you've just done that…" he said.

"She has," Stuart grinned. "You know that's a bit brilliant actually. Cheers!" He took a deep drink from his glass as if he felt the need to ascertain his manliness by keeping up with Nina.

Stephen scooted a bit closer to her, a look of concern on his face. "How do feel?"

"Good. A bit tipsy perhaps," she shook herself and made a face, which he found rather adorable.

"Tipsy?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Wait a second...," she held out her hand like a fortune teller over a crystal ball. "The vote's still out on that one. Hmm sorry, I seem to be sloshed." Nina made a regretful face. "Who am I kidding?" She giggled. "Not that sorry.

"We should cut her off...," Chris suggested.

"Nah, this will be your chance to find out whether she can hold her liquor, Farrelly. You wanna let it pass you by?" Stuart grinned placing his empty glass on the table.

"Not going to happen, Stu. This is not some bloody experiment!" Stephen told off his friend before he turned his head to address Nina. "I'm cutting you off, luv," he announced.

The young woman seemed thoroughly unimpressed. "Awww! Is that your concerned face?" Nina reached out her hand to pinch his cheek. "So adorable!"

The two other men chuckled. Stephen tried to silence them with an angry glare, but failed. Somehow his authority had been undermined by Nina telling him he was adorable and pinching him in the cheek.

"I'll tell you something. You're not cutting me off. I'm daring you to draw even, Stephen," she giggled at the fact that she had inadvertently managed to make her sentence rhyme at the end.

He shot her an incredulous look.

"Come on, Celtic Warrior, you wanna chicken out?" she pushed the beer in his direction.

The words "chicken out" did not exist in his vocabulary, so his fingers closed around the beer and he downed it in one go. He shook his head afterwards as if to ward off the dizziness that would soon come over him. It crept in from the corners of his mind and rolled over him like a warm blanket.

"Ah'll be damned," his Irish accent was particularly thick now in his freshly acquired state of moderate inebriation. His cheeks were rosy.

"Welcome to the dark side, babe," she planted a noisy and a bit wet kiss on his cheek before she leaned back in her seat with a content grin. "You know, that feels just about right. Drunk enough to not give a shit, sober enough to be still in control of those klutzy extremities. Feels awesome. No need to ruin a perfectly nice little alcoholic buzz with more drinking. I'm cutting myself off."

"Bossy, smart and able to hold her liquor? She's a keeper, mate. Mark my words," Stuart stage whispered to Stephen across the table.

"Don't you think I know that?" The Irishman replied not bothering or able to hide his completely smitten smirk.

"Oh yeah, she'll be even more of a keeper if she doesn't hurl all over us on the taxi ride back to the hotel," Chris said. As he was the only one relatively sober, sarcasm was still part of his repertoire.

The three men finished off the pitcher between themselves in the next 20 minutes or so. Their conversation was becoming increasingly more animated and humorous. For once Nina was content to just listen. On their way to the parking lot, however, she decided to ask one well-timed question. It was clever from a strategic point of view in so far as she was now sober enough again to fully appreciate the immediate consequences of that particular question.

"So Chris told me you two would be singing at some point of the evening. I'm disappointed. You're not even going to sing me one little song, boys?"

Stephen squeezed her hand. When they had left the bar, he had reached for it and never let go of it since. He briefly exchanged glances with Stuart. "Come on. Let's be nice for a change..."

"Alright," the Brit amended.

"Whiskey in the Jar?" Stephen asked.

Stuart nodded. "Metallica classic."

"I know the text to this one. Count me in," Chris announced.

They started singing, their loud voices belting out the song over the parking lot. Nina smiled. Unfortunately the taxi arrived before they could finish the song.

"You should think about starting a cappella band, boys," she suggested with a cheeky grin as she got in the taxi and promptly bumped her head against the car roof in the process. "Owww!" Nina whined loudly.

"You okay?" Stephen asked her with a concerned frown in his face as he sat down next to Nina who was still rubbing her head.

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off. "Just the usual foray into klutziness. Nothing major. Don't mind me."

Now the other guys got in the taxi as well. Chris took the front seat, which left Stuart in the back, so Nina ended up sandwiched between Stephen and the door. He threw her a smile and laid his arm around her shoulder to pull her against his side. Suddenly having to squeeze into the back wasn't so bad anymore.

"So where to?" the taxi driver asked.

"I would kill for a round of darts now," Stuart said.

Stephen nodded. "If anything me aim improves after a couple of pints..."

"We do have an Irish pub in town where you can shoot some darts. You want me to drop you off there, guys?" the driver asked.

"Hold on a second! Sorry, man. This has nothing to do with you," Chris told the driver. He turned around in his seat to face his friends. "Are you all crazy? Darts and alcohol?! What's the worst that could happen? You poke out each other's eyes," Chris shook his head incredulously at their suggestion. "Your vote, Nina?"

"It's only 11 and I don't feel like heading back to the hotel yet...," she shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

"Crazy chick," Chris muttered.

"At the O'Shaunessy's they also have live music...," the driver tried to advertise the local pub some more to them.

"What?" Stuart laughed.

"Wait a minute? Have you just said O'Shaunessy's?" Stephen asked with a mad sparkle in his eyes.

"That's correct," the driver confirmed.

"Alright, now we definitely need to go there," Nina grinned.

"Atta girl." Stuart held out his hand to her for a high five. She slapped it and he grinned.

Five minutes later they were over at the pub. Chris, who had spent the taxi ride muttering to himself ill-humoredly, was somewhat reconciled with the situation because of the live music. Upon entering the pub he briefly paused and you could almost see him perk his ears. He listened for a few seconds, his face a mask of concentration, before he finally announced his verdict. "Not half bad."

The bar was done up like an Irish pub, but there were some things that ever so subtly reminded you that you were still in the States, like the CNN news broadcast up on the screen over the bar and the tacky Miller's neon sign right next to it. Those minor glitches however, didn't seem to affect the popularity of the place. They were lucky to find a table because a group of people was just leaving. Stephen pulled his baseball cap a little lower into his face when the men of the group threw them some curious glances. He mentally prepared himself for the sentence "Wait a second, aren't you...?", which never came because Nina was clever enough to distract the men by chewing off their ears with some small talk. She unleashed all her talkativeness on them. Stephen had to grin. As Nina was close to telling them the long and colorful story of her life, they quickly made their escape. She, in turn, sank down on her seat with an exhausted groan.

"Small talk - the art of wasting your time by talking about stuff that's completely unimportant. Beats me how someone can enjoy that," she shook her head, unable to comprehend how some people could be so good at it. It was exhausting trying to keep a conversation politely detached. She preferred to get straight to the heart of matters, not traipse around it.

"You have my sympathies," Stuart, an equally apt small-taker himself, said and slapped her on the back. With that he turned around and made his way over to the bar to ask the bartender if one of the dartboards was free, which left Stephen, Chris and Nina alone at the table.

Stephen tried to talk to her, but the roar of the music was so loud, she couldn't understand him. He raised his voice and leaned closer to her.

"I said: Ever tried an Irish Car Bomb?"

Nina made a face and gave him an uncertain look. "No, what's that?"

"A drink. Guinness, Jameson, Irish Cream," he counted off the ingredients on his fingers.

"Back at the other bar you were going to cut me off...," she pointed out with a grin.

"Yeah, but then I thought we get to be responsible adults for the rest of our lives. Why not be a bit irresponsible for once? What do you say, luv?" He flashed her one of those irresistible smiles of his. She indicated him with a hand gesture that she might need to think about that for a second. "Come on, lass...," he pouted.

"Alright. Fine," she told him and he pressed a wet kiss to her cheek.

"That's my girl," he said proudly.

"Yuck!" she rubbed at her cheek exaggeratedly. "No need to slobber all over my cheek!"

Stephen just shrugged her shoulders at her, completely unapologetic. "I'm going to get us some drinks. Are you in as well, mate?" he asked Chris. He was already standing next to the table about to head over to the bar to get their drinks.

"Yeah, why not?" Chris said.

His answer surprised Nina while Stephen just took it in stride and departed from the table with a nod. She felt the need to ask Chris about his sudden change of heart, but the level of noise inside the bar had the potential to foil that particular plan. Thanks to the live band, no decent conversation was possible inside the pub. Well, conversation at any rate was only possible in two ways: undignified shouting or getting close enough to each other to not have to resort to aforementioned shouting. Nina decided on the latter alternative and sat down next to Chris.

"Why are you suddenly game with all of this?" she asked curiously.

Chris gave her a shrug and one of his trademark cocky smiles. "Sometimes you've got to roll with a situation. You can either be determined to have a good time or a bad time. Me? I'm going to choose having a good time every time."

"That's basically 'If life hands you lemons, make lemonade' in a nutshell," she observed with a grin.

"Yeah, Jericho style," he smirked. "Just not short enough to fit on any shirts or coffee mugs, which kind of blows."

They sat there for a moment just listening to the band which consisted of four young men, bravely soldiering through the song "Irish Rover".

"Plus," Chris leaned closer to her again, "you rookies need someone to watch your backs."

"Rookies? That would make you..."

"The seasoned veteran, baby," pointed with his thumbs at his chest for emphasize. "Been there, done that."

"You don't look all that seasoned," she joked.

"Thanks," he laughed. His laughter had a slightly melancholic ring to it to Nina's surprise "I might not look it, but sometimes I feel it. But I guess that's what showbiz is all about."

His words made her inevitably regard his profile. To her Chris was ageless. It was something about his energy and appearance that made her forget that he was at least ten years her senior. Tonight thanks to his words, but only his words, she was firmly reminded of that again.

She gave him a hug, surprising both Chris and herself with that spontaneous gesture. After a brief moment of hesitation he actually hugged her back and even gave her a little pat on the back.

"It felt like the right thing to do," she explained, letting go of him. "So I just went for it."

He grinned. "No such thing as the present. Life's gotta be lived. Songs have gotta be sung. Friends have gotta be hugged..."

"You're spewing out all kinds of wisdom tonight," she teased him.

"Haven't done some songwriting in a while. That's gotta be the reason why," he winked at her.

They fell silent and continued to listen to the band, a bunch of young American guys in their early twenties, trying to fake an Irish accent as they covered "Sally MacLennane" by the Pogues. Most of the times they did a good job, but sometimes they went a bit over the top which made them sound Australian instead of Irish. Especially the word "station" gave them some trouble. Unfortunately it came up several times in the song. But who could blame them? The song was fast and they were giving it their best.

A drink was placed in front of her. Inside of it a shot glass was slowly floating towards the bottom of the pint. She heard Stuart's deep booming voice behind her: "Give me a break. Who are they? The Aussie Pogues?" Apparently that's who could blame them. She smirked.

Stephen was more forgiving about the deficits of the musical entertainment. In fact it seemed like he didn't mind at all. He placed his glass on the table next to hers and sat down with a satisfied sigh.

"Well, don't you look smug...," she remarked.

"They've got chips. Real ones. Like back home," he told her with a grin that seemed to say he was talking about a rare delicacy. And at least two other people around the table, namely Stuart and Nina, were more than ready to agree with him. Back when Nina had lived in London, chips had been her comfort food. When a whole plate of them was placed in front of her on the table, her mouth started watering immediately.

"I guess you have no problem with the knowledge that because of you one of those WWE nutritionists is crying himself to sleep right about now, man," Chris observed with a smirk.

Stephen was grinning from ear to ear. "Bad news, mate. Those pints back at the other bar already made him break out the snivels."

Nina used Stephen's distraction to steal one of his chips. Stuart followed her example and made a quick grab for the food on his friend's the plate as well. To say that Stephen was annoyed by them stealing his chips was an understatement.

"Oi! What are you two stealing me food for?"

Nina shrugged. "I love chips," she told Stephen, who was staring at her incredulously as she popped one of his chips in her mouth.

"Dartboard's free in fifteen. You're my mate. I wanted to make sure you were done eating by then. Plus, that stuff isn't good for your coronaries," Stuart informed him, reaching out to steal another chip from Stephen's plate. The Irishman slapped his wrist with gusto. Stuart quickly retracted his hand, rubbing it exaggeratedly while he shot Stephen a disapproving glance.

"Get your own," Stephen told him. Stuart smirked at him complacently.

"I will," he stood up, ready to leave again, but then his eyes landed on their drinks. "But before I go let's have a toast..." The others grabbed their glasses as well, waiting with a mixture of anticipation and slight dread for the words that would come out of Stuart's mouth. All bets were off when it came to him. Usually very gruff and taciturn, tonight he was still gruff, but less taciturn. "To good friends!" he smiled.

"To good friends!" the others chorused, smiling as well as they clinked their glasses.

"Blergh!" was the sound that inevitably escaped Nina's lips as whiskey and Guinness burned down her throat. There was a hint of sweetness in the aftertaste thanks to the Irish Cream.

"You don't like it?" Chris smirked while the other two men awaited her answer with just as much curiosity and badly concealed mischievousness. The way she had wrinkled her nose in distaste and that sound she had made had simply been too amusing.

"Are you sure that's an Irish Car Bomb, not that grog those pirates in that computer game used to drink...?" She was used to people not getting her remarks, but thanks to the look of dawning comprehension on Steve's face she decided to elaborate. "You know, the one that burned through mugs because it was that strong?"

Chris and Stuart shrugged their shoulders, while Steve pushed the plate of chips in her direction with a grin. "Come on, have some chips before you keel over, Governor Marley."

"Ha!" she pointed her finger at him and laughed, the exuberance doubtlessly created by that first sip of alcohol and the fact that he had gotten her obscure video game reference. "You're the best," she whispered in his ear, not wanting the others to hear it and give him a hard time for it.

"The best in the world?" he smirked.

"What? You wanna have CM Punk pop out of the woodwork now?" she chuckled, stuffing another one of those chips into her mouth.

"Nah, Steve, doesn't need another clobbering from Phil," Stuart interrupted them before Stephen could reply. "What he needs is to suffer a defeat at darts, so devastating, he will crawl all the way back to his mama in Cabra," Stuart grinned.

"You're pretty confident there, Stuart," Stephen got to his feet sticking out his chin and crossing his arms over his chest. "Especially since you're going to be the one crying to your ma' on the phone later, telling her that an Irishman knocked your pale British arse into the middle of next week."

Nina quickly got to her feet as well. "Enough with the trash talking! As good as you might be at it... Maybe I should take some notes for the next show and substitute the word "darts" with "wrestling". Let's settle this like mature adults," she took a drink from her glass, this time managing to keep a straight face, "We all play, the loser of this little match has to pay the drinks and get up on stage and sing a song with the band. What do you say, gentlemen?" She looked from Chris to Stuart and then finally at Stephen.

"I'm in." "Deal." "Let's do this."

"Fine," she grinned. She reached for the plate of chips and her glass and saunter over to the dartboards.

Close to the dartboards there were bistro tables and stools. She put the food and her drink on the somewhat sticky surface of one of those tables and watched the men approach with a calm smile. "So what are we going to play?"

"Killer?" Stephen suggested.

"We're enough people for that, so Killer it is," Stuart agreed with a grim nod.

"How's that work?" Chris asked.

"We throw at the board with our weak hand. The number that comes out will be your number. No one can have the same number. We take it in turns. Once you have a number, you get to throw at other people's numbers. Each player has three lives. Last man or woman standing wins," Stuart explained.

"Understood?" Stephen asked Chris and Nina. Both nodded, so he held out the darts to Nina and motioned at the dartboard. "Ladies first."

Nina took a dart in her right hand and threw it. She hit an eight. The boys let out a sympathetic groan.

"What?" She looked at them, unable to understand what was going on.

"Eight is pretty bad, luv. You'll be killed off in no time," Stephen told her.

Her name was quickly scribbled on the board by Stuart. He wrote down the eight next to it with a grim expression. Apparently darts was a serious affair to him.

Next was Chris, whose natural cockiness significantly increased by hitting the bull's-eye.

Stephen wasn't as fortunate. He narrowed his eyes in concentration and only hit eleven, the field adjoining to Nina's. "Looks like I'll end up just as dead as you, darlin'," he told her when he came to stand next to her again.

Stuart managed a promising start by hitting bull and getting 25 points.

Now that it was Nina's turn again, she didn't have a hard time deciding who to finish off first. She was a rookie at darts, so she attempted the shot she thought herself most likely to be capable of. To her surprise she managed to hit eleven without a problem.

"You little traitor!" Stephen exclaimed. However, that smirk on his face told her that even though he didn't like her taking away one of his lives, he didn't hold a grudge. She just shrugged her shoulders at him with a grin.

Chris decided to follow her example, taking off another one of Stephen's lives. Stephen decided to retaliate by hitting Nina's number. Stuart did the same, which left both Nina and Stephen with only one last life.

It was Nina's turn again. She hesitated for a moment, looking at the dartboard pensively before she decided on a course of action. It was a pretty risky move, but she was willing to go through with it. To her great surprise she managed to hit bull. Behind her Stephen cheered because she had just taken one of Stuart's lives away.

Lucky for them, Chris was in no haste to kill them off. He was all about leveling the playing field, so he too shot at Stuart's number and hit, suddenly leaving the Brit with only one life.

So that meant it was Stephen's turn once again. "I'm a horrible singer," Nina tried to beseech him not to kick her out of the game. "Really, I can demonstrate if you wanna hear..."

He grinned at her. "You will have plenty of opportunity for that later..." He aimed and hit the bull's-eye, leaving Nina and the other two to watch him with their mouths hanging open. "... during the cab ride back," he finished his sentence with a cocky grin.

"What yah lookin' at me fer?" his laughter and another sip from his drink brought out his Irish accent more clearly. "Not much to do for a young lad back in me hometown, except football and darts. Cabra isn't that much of a fun place."

His laughter was wiped away when it was Stuart's turn. The Brit narrowed his eyes, fixed the target and finally threw. The dart firmly embedded itself in the section of number eleven. No wonder! Stuart had executed the shot with the precision of a surgeon. "Say bye-bye, mate. You're dead as a doornail now," he told him as he crossed out Stephen's name on the board.

Stephen let out a disgruntled growl and Nina laid a calming hand on his bicep. "You better finish this eejit off now, darlin'," he told her.

"I'll do my best, but I can't make any promises. It's a difficult shot," she told him and took a deep breath before she threw her next dart. It bounced off the board and landed on the floor.

"Nooo!" Stephen exclaimed and took of his cap to rake his hand through his hair.

"Sorry," she told him sheepishly.

He was still pouting when she was standing right in front of him again. He held up his index finger and took a deep drink from his glass. She rolled her eyes at his childish antics.

"Am I forgiven?" Nina asked impatiently.

He frowned. "I'll just have to train you better. Maybe I'll buy you a dartboard..."

"The hell you will!" She kicked him lightly in the shin, fully aware of the fact that he was teasing her.

"Ouch!" he howled, clutching his leg. His behavior was pretty ridiculous considering that he was a wrestling superstar and had to deal with opponents twice her size and weight.

"Suits you right for saying stuff like that," she told him smugly.

"You know I didn't mean it, luv," he told her. The sincere timbre in his voice and the look in his eyes got to her and made her take a step closer to him.

"I was afraid there for a second..."

"I just don't like losing..," he admitted. "Least of all to Stu. He always gets so insufferably smug about it."

A loud howl could be heard behind them. Apparently Chris had just taken Stuart's last life, so there was no danger of him being overly cocky.

"I don't think he'll be all that smug now," Nina told Stephen with a grin.

"Yeah, but unfortunately he can still do some gloating about the fact that he kicked me out first and I have to do some singing now," he grimaced. "That will be embarrassing."

"Already picked out a song, Farrelly?" Stuart drawled as he appeared beside them and slapped his friend on the shoulder with a smirk.

"I've got an idea," Stephen grinned, but Nina could tell he was hiding his nerves behind that grin. It was one thing doing something you're good at in front of an audience. Doing something you weren't accustomed to? Well, that was a whole different matter...

"Good luck, Steve," she told him and kissed his cheek before he made his way over to the band, who were just taking a break. He still had to convince them to let him sing. It wasn't like today was open-mike-night.

The three friends observed the situation from a safe distance, occasionally taking sips from their drinks. Nina was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. In the last couple of minutes she had already become more outspoken, if that was at all possible in her case.

"There we go... Turning on that old Irish charm in three, two, one, go!" She motioned at Stephen who was talking to the lead singer of the band. "You watch him. They'll allow him to sing. I can't imagine anyone resisting that smile."

"Yeah, you certainly can't," Stuart teased her and Chris chuckled.

She elbowed the Brit in the rips with a grin.

"Daft cow!" he said affectionately.

"Bully," she replied with a smile.

Nina's suspicion proved to be right. A few seconds later Stephen climbed up onto the little platform the band used as a stage. He grabbed the mike with an air of confidence. He was no stranger to talking into microphones and working a crowd, after all that was what he did on a regular basis.

The bar fell silent as he spoke into the mike. "Hi, there! Howya? Me name is Stephen and I lost a bet tonight," laughter from the audience. Stephen grinned and took off his cap to scratch the back of his head. His smile was sheepish and had an endearing quality to it because it was sincere. By this time he already had half the room wrapped around his finger.

"Yeah, betting... I know. Not too smart. Anyway, it looks like I'll have to sing you a song tonight... Last time I sang in public was with the church choir, back when I was this tall," he held his hand up to his hip, "so be gentle with me, alright?"

"So some friends are in the audience tonight and a young lady I don't want to make an arse out of meself in front of, which means I need your help to pull this off. You all know "Fields of Athenry", right?" His question was answered by cheers and catcalls, so he continued with a little more confidence. "You might have heard that song before if you're a soccer fan..." It was noticeable how he momentarily stumbled over that word, willing himself to say "soccer" instead of "football".

"Liverpool! Greatest football club of all times!" Stuart hollered next to her at the top of his lungs and made Nina jump in her seat in fright.

"Jesus, thanks for the heads up!" She hissed at him.

"Thank you for the enthusiasm, Stu!" Stephen laughed on stage. "So if you could join in at the chorus that would help me out a lot. It goes like this... Careful, this redser is going to start singing now…," he warned the audience, which got him one more laugh. "Low lie the field of Athenry Where once we watched the small free birds fly Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry."

Nina was blown away by how good his voice sounded. "Wow, I had no idea he could sing like that...," she looked at both Chris and Stuart in astonishment. Her friends seemed to be equally surprised by Stephen's hidden talents. However, they had no opportunity to talk about it some more, because the band was about to start playing.

"Let's get it over with, fellas," Stephen invited the band to start. His pleasant voice and his charm made up for whatever difficulty he had getting into the song. When he reached the chorus, the whole bar, including Nina, Stuart and Chris, was singing it along with him.

When the song was over, everyone was on their feet cheering and clapping. There were even cries for an encore. He smiled, did a little bow and waved the request off with a shy smile. "Nah, I think if I sing another song, your ears will fall off or start bleedin'. Let's not risk it... I'll leave you in the capable hands of those four lads. Thank you for putting up with me and have a great night!" Stephen said and jumped off the stage.

His eyes widened in surprise when he found himself face to face with Nina all of a sudden. She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him after her, through the crowd, outside on the street, round a corner. Her feet stopped, she turned around and moved towards him. He tried to read the look on her face. He didn't have much time to do it, because suddenly she was kissing him.

The alcohol had taken away her usual restrain, so she wasn't holding anything back. Her kiss was wild and enthusiastic and made him forget that they were standing in a dark corner in some alley.

She pulled back abruptly. She was slightly out of breath, her cheeks were rosy and her eyes had a slightly dazed, but happy expression to them.

"So I take it, my performance didn't half stink," he smiled down at her. The adrenaline from having to go on stage had made him sober up again.

"Are you kidding me? If wrestling doesn't work out for you anymore at some point, I'll strap a guitar on you and send you on tour," she told him.

They were interrupted by the bleeping of Stephen's cellphone. Stephen rolled his eyes and took it out of his pocket. "It's a message from Stuart," he told her without any enthusiasm whatsoever. "Let me read it to you: Move your bums to the entrance of the pub. We're going home, so quit snogging each other and get a move on."

"Classic Stuart," she commented dryly.

"Jup," he agreed with a smile. "Come on, let's go."