When the Reds Clash

[Rod Stafford]

The walk from the flat earned him some attention. Outside the library, a trio of girls whistled and laughed behind their ring binders, on the street corner where they stood waiting for Nick, two men with long hair approached and offered to sponser him, and when they were turned away from the student union the bouncer said something crass about sending in the clowns. Nick and Andy winced at each incident, they looked sheepish flanking Rod amidst a sea of students. Rod, on the other hand, was oblivious.

He strolled leisurely down busy streets, bumping into people often but never noticing, and his friends apologised for him. His feet moved independent of the rest of his body. He was far too preoccupied with the cars, and the clothes, and the posters, and the lights, and all the exciting sights of the city. Dressed in a striped technicolour t-shirt which was two sizes too small for him, a pair of bold red trousers two sizes too big for him and a huge pair of army boots into which he tucked his trousers, Rod was one of the more striking city sights himself.

"This way, Rod," said Andy. He grabbed him by the arm and tugged him aside.

"Thank God!" Nick sighed with relief, and followed them down a narrow side street.

There was no pavement, the road was old and cobbled, and it stretched off into the distance. On the immediate horizon, the peak of the Anglican Cathedral towered magestically above the rooftops. Rod paused a couple of times to run his boot along the smooth cobblestones. He looked up and smiled.

"Just like Athens."

"You must feel right at home, lad," said Nick.

"Not really. This is Liverpool, the domain of the Scousers."

"Make sure you remember that when the match starts."

A large wooden sign swung gently above them, on it was painted a pair of theatrical masks; one happy and one sad. Below the sign was a large wooden board which spanned the front of the small building and on it, painted in gold, was the name of the pub, The Pilgrim. In the frosted glass windows hung red scarves and a great ruckus stirred from within. There were two girls smoking in the doorway. They waved.

"Tony and Marie have got us a table inside," said the girl with blonde hair.

"Alright Rod!"

The other girl flicked her cigarette onto the floor and put it out with a trainer. She smiled at Rod, took his hand and led him inside.

[Sansa]

“You should have seen the other person!” Peter roared, standing with one foot on the brass kicker under the bar and the other on his barstool, a sloppy beer in his uplifted hand. Gwen cheered, and Sansa grinned, accepting her beer from the barman. She and Peter were wearing red long sleeved t-shirts emblazoned with MAN U in yellow (his in the back, hers on the front), while Gwen had settled on a layered red on red look complete with scarf. They’d arrived ten minutes ago, and the fading bruise on her forehead had triggered the exchange that ended with Peter nearly dumping his beer out.

“Git down!” Peter was pulled down onto his barstool as he was partially blocking the screen the broadcast was projected onto with his raised mug.

He settled down with a satisfied look on his face. “Got here just in time for the prime seats. That real estate you’re sitting on is gold, Sansa.” He poked her in the bum and she nearly snorted her beer.

“I still can’t believe Gwen jumped ship for Liverpool.” Sansa punched the short, bleached blonde in the arm.

“Oi! I’ve always fancied Liverpool, you cow!” Gwen punched back, harder, and then they dissolved into giggles.

Peter gestured wildly, “Shut up, the pre-game is starting!” The pub didn’t get any quieter, but the projection T.V. was big enough to be seen from every corner of the smallish room. The sound system was cranked up as the three friends from Manchester squeezed in together to make room as more people were coming in. Sansa missed this – London was cold and lonely most of the time, and squishing into a small pub to watch a match was just what she needed.

[Rod Stafford]

A crowd of unhappy people were crammed in the doorway behind Rod. He stood staring at all the people in the pub while Emily bought drinks at the bar. She had told him to go and sit with Tony and Marie but he didn't know who they were. He was nudged out of the way by an enormous man, his beer belly bulged out from under his Liverpool shirt. The rest of the people scurried quickly inside and found seats. Everyone seemed transfixed by the large screen.

"What are you doing standing there? Come on, fella, grab a seat."

Andy appeared behind him. He led him past the bar and to a table where a young couple sat; they were snug but the man seemed more interested in the football than his girlfriend. She smiled at Andy and gave Rod a double take. Andy introduced him to Tony and Marie. Tony stared at his hair when he spoke to him. They were then joined by Nick and Jane.

"Where's Em?" asked Nick.

"She's getting the first round in. Rod, give her a hand carrying them over."

When Rod left the table, they huddled close and whispered excitedly. A girl in a red shirt sat on a stool next to where Emily was being served. Rod squeazed between them,

"Would you like some help with those, Emily?"

"Cheers, hun. Would you take those two--"

Rod had already wrapped his hands around three pint glasses. He turned to walk away but Emily pulled him back. When he turned, his blue backpack hit the other girl over the head.

"Hey," she smiled at him. "Don't go empty handed."

She held a bag of peanuts up to his mouth and he clasped it between his teeth. She laughed and thanked him again. When he turned back, some beer sloshed over the edge of a glass and fell into the lap of the dark haired girl. This time, Rod saw what he'd done.

"Sorry," he said, and the bag of peanuts fell to the floor. He looked down at it in defeat.

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[Sansa]

"Baptism!" crowed Peter, and then he was absorbed in the pre-game show again. Gwen just laughed and pretended to pour more beer on her.

"Bollocks, it's gone all over me!" Sansa grabbed a napkin and pressed it against her jeans where the beer was soaking in. She wasn't mad - couldn't come to The Pilgrim on match day and not expect to get a bit dirty. The guy next to her seemed to have wilted, and she did a double take at his outfit.

"Nice pants." He looked confused, so she leaned into him and shouted in his ear, "Nice pants! Red, I mean." A bit saggy though. "You here for Liverpool?"

[Rod Stafford]

The corner of Rod's mouth shifted into a grin when the woman leaned so close to him. There was a ringing in his ear from her shouting. It didn't bother him. He looked down at his trousers then smiled at her. Alex Ferguson was being interviewed on the screen behind him, the Manchester United manager was clearly suffering from the flu and could barely speak. The pub grew quiet. Rod leaned in close to the girl, and as she had done to him, shouted in her ear.

"YES, I AM A SUPPORTER OF LIVERPOOL. ARE YOU?"

[Sansa]

Mortified, Sansa stared him in horror as someone angrily threw a peanut. It bounced off his forehead and landed with a splash in one of the three drinks he was still holding. The pub murmured discontentedly, but as the interview with the coach kept going their attention was soon elsewhere.

Sansa held one finger to her lips to shush any further outbursts and answered quietly, "Manchester United." She pointed at the letters printed across her chest. A girl squeezed her way back to the bar with an irritated look on her face, and relieved the guy of his drinks. Sansa swiveled her head to check the screen, pushing her hair over her shoulder. Two small scabs near the base of her neck were visible for a moment, and then she turned back to her new acquaintance with a smile. "Should be quiet during the interviews – once the match starts we’ll all be back to shouting."

Gwen elbowed her in the back, "Take your own advice and shut up, will you?"

[Rod Stafford]

When he saw the scabs on her neck, his eyes widened and he leaned in to get a closer look. He snapped upright when the woman turned back to him. He didn't say anything to her for a moment. He looked concerned and addressed her seriously.

"Are you safe here? Manchester United is the enemy. The Scouse folk wont be happy."

[Sansa]

She couldn’t help but grin at his comment, but addressed him seriously. "Yes, it’s dangerous, but I’ve got friends here to keep me safe." Sansa lowered her voice even more, "You never can be too careful around Scousers."

There was a commercial break on the screen, and the noise level went up a few decibels almost immediately. "What about you, you here with your mates?"

[Rod Stafford]

"I'm here with some friends."

Rod pointed them out, they didn't see him, they were wrapped in a heated discussion. The scent from her hair was sweet. She turned back to him.

"I beg your pardon, I haven't properly introduced myself: Rod Stafford."

[Sansa]

"Sansa." She stuck her hand out, and he hesitated before shaking it firmly. She felt oddly elated that she hadn't retreated into her shell, but here she was in familiar territory.

Not that she frequented The Pilgrim, because she didn't, but the atmosphere was one she was used to. Sansa tucked her hair behind her ears with a quick gesture, and paused to rub a finger over the bruise on her forehead. Thankfully the bump had gone down, but it was still very noticablely purple.

[Rod Stafford]

"You've certainly been in the wars," Rod said.

"That's a hellish bruise you have there. How did you get it?"

[Sansa]

She flushed a violent shade of red, "Ah, on New Years Eve. I don't really remember - too much champagne." Sansa reflexively nudged her beer a little further away from her. "Not during a match."

She tried to steer the conversation away from her drunken antics. "Are you from Liverpool?"

[Rod Stafford]

"No, I'm not from around here."

He opened his mouth to add a little more then paused, puzzled.

"Leicester," he said, finally. "I'm from Leicester so I'm fairly new to these parts. Now you..."

He lifted up a finger and with a narrow eye, gauged Sansa and pointed at her.

"Manchester, right?" He smiled.

[Sansa]

She laughed, “Yeah, Manchester.”

A balding Scouser wedged himself between them to get a drink, and Sansa returned her attention to the screen. Gwen elbowed her. “So who is that? One of your Gooner friends from London?” She winked hugely.

“Who? Oh - no, never met him before. Name’s Rod.”

“What?” Gwen leaned in closer.

“Rod!”

“Oh. Weird clothes though. My loser alarm is going off - better steer clear, dahling.” The blonde popped a peanut into her mouth, and leaned over to chat to Peter. The pre-game show was wrapping up, and the bald bloke got his drink and shoved his way back to his table.

Rod was still standing there. Sansa smiled, and offered, “Should be a good match today.”

[Rod Stafford]

Rod appeared distracted, he looked back at Sansa and then at the screen.

"Yes, I'm sure it will be. That is, for us Liverpool supporters."

He smiled, then gestured across the room.

"My friends are calling me, I'd better go. Enjoy the match."

This time he extended his hand.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Sansa."

[Sansa]

"Right," she took his hand and shook it again, "Enjoy losing."

Sansa winked.

[Rod Stafford]

On the screen, the two teams flooded out onto the pitch and amidst the cheering, a singing came from the the stands housing the Liverpool fans. Since the match was taking place at Old Trafford, Liverpool wore their grey away kit and Manchester United were in red. Most of the people in the pub had joined in with the singing; they were saying something about Istanbul but it made no sense to Rod. He took a seat next to Andy and gulped at his pint while they sang.

"The Mancs never made it into the European Cup last year. It was in Istanbul. Liverpool won it, it was friggin' brilliant, and it was our fifth European conquest." Nick explained.

The match coverage cut to close-ups of the various players and gave diagrams of team layouts. The commentators said Liverpool had a solid defense and were stong midfield but should watch out for Rooney. Little conversation was taking place save for the occassional obscenity whenever a Manchester United player was mentioned. Sansa's friend shouted something back and the blonde haired girl thumped him in the arm. There was a close-up of the Liverpool captain which was met with a great cheer from the crowd and the pub bust into song once more.

Steve Gerrard Gerrard!
He kicks the ball forty yards,
He's big and he's friggin' hard.
Steve Gerrard Gerrard!

Before kick-off, Emily gave Rod her scarf. He looked around the room to see how others wore it and he draped it around his neck but didn't wrap or tie it. Another song broke out, something called You'll Never Walk Alone - apparently it was the Liverpool anthem. Rod held his scarf aloft and swayed with the rest of the crowd, he tried to join in with the singing but found it difficult guessing the words and melody.

"L-I-V E-R-P double O-L Liverpool FC!" chanted Tony when the whistle blew.

The match was underway. The pace of the game was steady with nothing extraordinary happening. After ten minutes, the atmosphere in the pub was relaxed and people were discussing past matches, future fixtures, and player transfers. Steven Gerrard took a shot at the goal from twenty-five yards, for a second everyone held their breath and absolute silence came over the pub. The Liverpool supporters put their hands on their heads and groaned in perfect unison, the trio of Mancs sighed with relief: the shot went wide and the score was still nil-nil. Rod muttered through a mouthful of peanuts.

"Hey Jane, what's the offside rule?"

[Sansa]

Sansa laughed while the Liverpudians chanted "Where were you in Istanbul," but Peter scowled. Gwen pinched his cheek and he glared at her, but quickly brightened up when the teams were diagrammed.

"They better watch out for Rooney," he stated, "I have a tenner riding on him scoring today."

"A tenner! Really." Sansa grinned. "Big gambler, eh?"

He flipped her a good-natured rude gesture, but was soon shouting back at some Liverpool fans behind them. Gwen thumped him on the arm, which seemed to cool him down a bit.

They suffered through the kick-off, surrounded by the enemy (Gwen sang along, scarf aloft), but didn't really have much action in the match for about ten minutes. Gwen grumbled as Gerrard's kick missed, but Sansa clutched at her heart with relief. Peter got another pint, and shoveled in the peanuts as the match progressed.

[Rod Stafford]

There was a great deal of emotion on display at the Pilgrim. The men had been wrapped up in the pre-match coverage, fierce discussions, crude banter and boisterous singing, but as the game progressed, the women were becoming increasingly verbal. Sometimes, Rod thought, their select words of abuse would put even the most rowdy men to shame. Emily suddenly jumped out of her seat and threw her arms into the air.

"Rooney, you dirty bastard!"

The rest of the denizens regurgitated similar expressions. Hands were everywhere. Two opposing players were confronting each other on the screen; their foreheads pressed hard against each other like rams locking horns and they shoved each other. The referee intervened and booked both players with a yellow card. Jane explained that a Manchester United player had commited an aggressive tackle but hadn't been booked for it.

"Roo-ney! Roo-ney!" chanted Sansa's friend. Peanuts were thrown at him along with a volley of abuse from a couple of nearby tables.

"He's certainly pushing his luck," Rod said, trying to catch a glimpse of Sansa from his seat.

[Sansa]

Peter settled back onto his barstool, estactic. "Things'll turn around now, you'll see. We'll put some pressure on them."

Gwen hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow and leaned in for some up close bickering about which team was best. Sansa scratched at an itch on her neck, and watched the game in relative silence, holding her breath when Liverpool had another great chance to take the lead just before the half-time break. It looked to her like Liverpool was putting all the pressure on, but Peter hooted and hollered for Wes Brown, who made a desperate save with his leg after Crouch rocketed the ball right on goal.

Sansa peeked over her shoulder as a commercial break came on, and tried to locate Rod. Oh, there he was... staring at her. She smiled uncertainly, and turned quickly back to the screen.

[Rod Stafford]

It was half-time. The players disappeared into a tunnel and after a few minutes of commentary from Gary Lineker and Ian Wright, the commercial break began. People were packed tight at the bar, ordering their drinks. The rest of the pub looked empty by comparison. Sansa's friend was engaging a tall Liverpool supporter in a fierce verbal confrontation. Rod stood. The others looked up at him.

"I'll get this round in."

"Good man, Rod!" said Andy. "Everyone having the same?"

They all nodded and sent Rod on his way. Two young women squeazed past him in a narrow space between tables. He smiled. He enjoyed the closeness and atmosphere of being in a pub during a football match. Once people had alcohol in their blood and a song to sing, they were no different from people centuries ago. Rod already had this warm fuzzy feeling swelling in his chest.

"Excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry. Pardon me. Excuse me."

Gradually, Rod worked his way to the bar; ducking under arms and dodging pints of beer. He found himself next to Sansa, her friend was still arguing with the scouser. He smiled at her.

"Enjoying the match?"

[Sansa]

Peter was arguing about some of the calls with the scouse sitting next to him, and Gwen was making a run for the loo. Which left Sansa basically to herself guarding Gwen's seat from those who would take it. Being cut off from her friends by a drunken Liverpool fan was the last thing she wanted.

"Enjoying the match?"

Sansa pulled her fingers out of the tangle she'd created in her long hair and turned to smile at Rod. "Certainly... you?" She raked her fingers through her hair again, and pulled it over one shoulder. Her neck was itching for some reason, and she absently scratched at two small bumps near her collarbone.

[Rod Stafford]

"Insect bites?"

Rod awkwardly gestured to her neck. He could see the marks on her neck from where he stood. He leaned in, eager to get a closer look. His brow furrowed and he looked at Sansa with concern.

"Have you..." He paused, glanced back at the scabs and stood up.

"Been on holiday recently?"

[Sansa]

She frowned, "Insect bites?" Sansa looked at the mirror behind the bar, trying to see what he was talking about. "No, I don't think so. Well, maybe! I don't know where I could have gotten them though."

Sansa self-consciously pulled her hair over the marks. "No holidays for me, I'm afraid."

[Rod Stafford]

Rod leaned against the bar, and browsed the large selection of drinks. He could see Sansa staring at her marked neck in the mirror's reflection.

"Don't worry about it." He added, deadly serious, "The worst you could get is rabies or maleria. People don't die from that anymore, right?"

The barmaid caught his attention and he ordered his drinks. Then as she walked off, he called her back.

"And can I have a double... Jack... Daniels?"

"Want ice with it, lad?" She asked thickly through a gob full of gum.

"Erm... yeah."

The barmaid turned again and he lunged out and tapped her on the shoulder. She pivoted and glared at him. He failed to notice her temper.

"Sansa, what can I get you?"

[Sansa]

She smiled apologetically at the barmaid, "Oh, another of these, I guess." Sansa lifted her almost empty beer.

The woman behind the bar turned to fill the order, moving out of Rod's reach quickly so he couldn't stop her again. Sansa looked at him, draining her glass. "Thanks for the refill, Rod." She smiled, wiping a bit of foam from her lips as the barmaid slapped down a fresh beer and Rod's other drinks.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod nodded a quick acknowledgement at Sansa then turned to face the bar again. He was beaming, pleased that she'd accepted his offer, and when he saw his reflection in the mirror opposite, he buried his head in the glass of whiskey and threw it back in one. His face contorted immediately, he closed his eyes tight and shook his head.

"Brrrrrrr! Wooh!"

When he opened his eyes again, the barmaid was staring at him, sour-faced and chewing furiously. His drinks were lined up on the bar. He handed her a ten pound note.

"I'll take another one of those Jeff Daniels, please. And take your own out of that," he offered the woman a big pleasant grin but she simply snatched the money from his fingers and stormed off. He turned to Sansa again, his face a little more colourful now.

"Whatever happened to service with a smile?"

[Sansa]

"I don't think that's been had 'round these parts since the Dark Ages," Sansa laughed, and then she looked up at the screen, "Game's back on. Better get your drinks to your friends."

Someone elbowed their way between her and Rod, ordering a drink, and when they left Rod was back at his table with his companions. Sansa shifted on her stool.

"Gwen," she leaned towards her friend, "I'm going to the loo."

Gwen tore her eyes from the screen, and nodded, then turned to Peter who was gripping the edge of his t-shirt with white knuckled hands as the game progressed. "We're off to the loo, Pete." He waved her away impatiently, and the two girls shoved their way towards the lavatories.

[Rod Stafford]

It started when Rod returned to the bar to retrieve the whiskey he'd forgotten. He considered himself lucky it was still there. He picked it up and turned carefully, lifting the glass over a short woman's head. Then the entire pub bellowed curses and abuse at the screen behind him. He found it quite intimidating and turned to see what all the fuss was about. A Liverpool player had been fouled in the penalty area when he had a good chance of scoring. The referee blew his whistle and made a signal with his hands. The pub cheered. A penalty had been awarded to Liverpool.

"Watch it there, lad," said the sour-faced barmaid.

Beer cascaded from the bar and soaked the short woman's dress. In frustration, Pete had accidently knocked his pint glass over. The barmaid cleaned up the mess while the short woman hurled abuse at the young Mancunian. Pete offered his apologies and the pub settled to watch the penalty being taken. There was utter silence. Steven Gerrard took the shot and planted it perfectly in the top right hand corner of the net. The crowd errupted into cheers and Pete threw himself back into his chair.

"Jammy scouse cun..." He muttered.

"What's that your saying there, lad?" Said a tall young man with a brutal crooked nose. He added, "If you don't like scousers then get out of here. We don't like you either."

"Look, mate, get out my face, alright?" Pete replied.

"Don't call me 'mate'. I'm not your mate. And was it you who soaked my bird?"

"Yeah, it was. It was an accident so get over it, you scouse..."

"Scouse what?" Shouted another man, who suddenly stood, beer in hand and threw the contents of the glass in Pete's direction. He ducked.

"Sorry, mate..." Said the beer-thrower. He held his hands up apologetically but the big burly bald-headed bloke with the beer belly didn't seem amused. His face and bald head glistened and dripped with ale. He wiped it off and stepped forward, barging Rod out of the way.

One thing led to another. The bald bloke butted the beer-thrower. The beer-thrower's mates got up and went for the bald bloke. The bald blokes mates went for them. The soaked short woman pointed fingers at Pete. Her crooked nose boyfriend squared up to him. Rod positioned himself between the Mancunian and the boyfriend. He stammered the odd soothing word or two in a sorry attempt to settle the situation. Then suddenly, he found himself with the weight of the soaked short woman on his back after she had thrown herself at him in a blind fit of rage.

"Excuse me, miss."

"Dirty Mancunian git!" She screamed as she straddled his back, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms around his neck. He sputtered and made every effort not to spill his whiskey admist the chaos of the pub brawl.

[Sansa]

"C'mon, Gwen, stop starin' at yourself in the mirror!" Sansa cracked open the door to peek out at the suddenly very loud bar, and quickly closed it again. "Looks like Peter's gotten himself into a bit o' trouble..."

Gwen was putting lip gloss on, "Oh? Not again." The blonde ran her fingers through her short dyed hair and pocketed the gloss. "I suppose its bad. Worse than last time?"

"Oh, lots worse." Sansa followed Gwen as the bolder girl stalked out into the bar proper. Her eyes widened at the sight of Peter squaring off to a scouser with a broken nose, and Rod - Rod? - trying vainly to get a woman off his back. The rest of the bar was slowly succumbing to an all out brawl, and Gwen pulled Sansa down as a shotglass catapulted over their heads.

"You're right," Gwen noted, "Lots worse. C'mon, lets get him and get out." She grabbed Sansa's hand, and they tried to make their way towards the bar.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod could feel his shirt being drenched from the woman's beer soaked clothes. He gasped under her grip and swayed this way and that to toss her off. Behind them, he heard glass smashing. Her feet had come loose and knocked everything off the bar.

"You're not so hard now, eh?" She cried into his ear. She was a brandy drinker.

Bent double, Rod could see the upside down scrunched up face of the barmaid from between his legs. She'd spat her chewing gum out now and was mouthing off a slew of swear words at him. He tried to tear her arms from him with his free hand but to no avail. The other arm he kept at length away from the woman and desperately attempted to keep it away from people and flying objects. He stood and Sansa stood before him.

"Help!" He choked.

[Sansa]

Sansa looked a bit helpless as chaos ruled around her, but Gwen waded between the scouse and Peter, shouting at them both. Rod croaked as the woman on his back got her arm around his throat, his eyes pleading for help.

Galvanized into action, Sansa plucked the glass from Rod's free hand, setting it on the bar, and then she grabbed a fistfull of the woman's hair. Yanking the wench backwards she hollered, "Get off him, you cow!"

The beer-soaked woman, a new target in sight, released Rod and grabbed a handful of Sansa's hair, pulling the taller girl's head down. "Stay out of this, you bloody Mancunian tart!" Sansa's eyes widened, and she stuck her hand in the woman's face, trying to lever her away from her hair.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod's jaw dropped at the display from the two women. He turned pale as he cautiously wriggled between them. He manouvered his hands carefully, in order to avoid causing offense, and gently pulled free their grip from each other. Both were reluctant to relinquish their grasp.

"Now ladies, please..."

The intermingled trio were suddenly barged aside by the beer-thrower and the bald bloke, who were throwing punches, biting and butting with bestial vigor. The short woman lost her balance and fell, consequentially, Rod and Sansa tumbled to the ground with her.

"This is ridiculous!" Grunted Rod.

There was a hiss and the shorter woman suddenly yelped in pain, and immediately released her grip on Sansa's hair. She jumped up and plunged her fingers into the bucket of ice on the bar. Rod climbed to his feet and helped Sansa up.

"Time to leave, I think."

[Sansa]

Sansa winced, wondering how much hair the scouse woman had pulled out, but took Rod's hand as he tried to get them out of the bar. She looked over her shoulder for Gwen and Peter, and caught sight of Gwen climbing up onto the bar, the match projected onto her body. She made the 'call me' gesture to Sansa, but was pulled down by a myriad of hands. She seemed to be laughing.

The dark haired girl swallowed hard, following behind Rod as closely as she could as he led them to safety. A couple of brawlers banged against them, knocking their hands free from each other, and for a terrifying moment Sansa was shoved awkwardly against a now empty table. Separated from Rod, and with the back of a smelly scouser pinning her in place while the scouse pounded someone in the head, she tried not to panic.

[Rod Stafford]

"Gerroff her!"

Rod shouted, wrapping one hand around the back of the neck of one of the assailants while the other grasped the t-shirt of the one on top of Sansa. He dragged the first back and lifted up the other with ease and threw them aside. He took Sansa hand and pulled her out through the door. They squeezed through a number of bloody patrons escaping the pub and found themselves in the street. It was getting dark now, and the street lights were casting an orange glow on the black, glistening road.

Rod circled Sansa quickly, putting his damp fingers in her hair and on her arms and hands. He looked at her with concern.

"Are you alright?"

[Sansa]

Wide-eyed, Sansa looked at her arm. There was a smear of blood on it, but a second glance proved that it wasn't hers. "'s a bloody biohazard in there," she exclaimed, and then unexpectedly hugged Rod. "Thanks! I think I'm fine. Might have lost some hair though, that fat cow had strong fingers."

She released him to rub her scalp, and then realized that Gwen and Peter were still inside - her ride back to where she was staying the night. "What now?"

[Rod Stafford]

Rod was grinning from ear to ear. It took him a moment to realise he'd been asked a question. His eyes widened and he pulled the blue rucksack from his back. He crouched down, unzipping it and delved inside it.

"Here," he said, handing Sansa a folded up map.

"One of my friends picked it up on a night out with his university. Liverpool hot spots."

He put the rucksack back over both shoulders and they started walking. Then he stopped, turned and ran back into the bar.

"I'll be right back, I just forgot something."

After about thirty seconds, Rod reappered, he collapsed out of the door and almost lost his footing. Half a dozen hands groped after him. Behind him appeared the scouser with the broken nose, the bald headed man and the beer-thrower. They clamoured through the narrow doorway together to get their hands on him, hurling abuse as he found his footing and scrambled onto the street. In his hand was his glass of whiskey, the ice half melted, and not a drop spilled.

"Run!"

[Sansa]

Sansa grabbed his hand to help him regain his balance, and they ran down the street. She considered the map in her hand, and decided that it probably wouldn't help them find Peter and Gwen's flat.

When they finally stopped she took a moment, panting for breath, and said, "I don't think you're allowed to take the glass with you, Rod." Then she started laughing.

[Rod Stafford]

They had turned into a narrow alley and were now pressed against a garage door. The shouts from the pub were distant now. Rod looked down at his glass and then at Sansa, and shrugged carelessly. He gulped the contents of the glass and chewed on the ice.

"That's good stuff."

He leaned out of the alley and glanced up the street. It was clear so he stepped out of the alley. He placed the glass carefully on the floor, against a wall, plunged his hands in his big baggy trousers and looked helplessly at Sansa.

"Do you know where we are?"

[Sansa]

Sansa shook her head, a little incredulously. "I live in London, and before that Manchester. I don't know my way around Liverpool all that well at all." He cut quite a figure in his huge red pants and stripey shirt. "Don't you know where we are?"

She followed him out of the alleyway into the street, carefully looking around. "I was following you."

[Rod Stafford]

"I was running away!"

He strolled up the street for a moment, he leaned this way and that trying to make out any landmarks. Failing that, he headed back. There was a little sway to his step. He marched straight past Sansa and carried on down the road. He called back to her.

"Can you hear the music?"

He pivotted gracelessly and gestured for her to follow.

"Where there's music, there are drinks! Come on!"

[Sansa]

"Drinks?" Sansa found herself walking after Rod, worried about wandering more, but more afraid of being alone. Without Gwen or Peter at her side, she felt a bit exposed. She lengthened her stride to catch up to him.

"Should you really be having more?" She couldn't even hear any music. Maybe he was hallucinating!

[Rod Stafford]

"Always," he answered.

His feet pulled him forward eagerly down the sloped street, he looked back over his shoulder to see Sansa on his tail.

"And what's with all this 'You' business, anyway? This is a joint venture, Sansa, a glass of golden opportunity awaits."

He smiled at her with unrestrained glee then bolted off down the road.

"Come on! Don't you Mancunian ladies know how to run?"

[Sansa]

"Bloody scouser," she muttered, but gamely picked up the pace and ran after him. "A glass of golden opportunity, eh?" Sansa grabbed at Rod's hand for a little help keeping up with him. "Better be a glass full of gold if I have to run to find it."

A sign proclaiming they had arrived at The Revolution finally stopped Rod in his tracks, Sansa bouncing off the side of him as he turned in an excited circle. "Looks like a nice place," she said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

[Rod Stafford]

"Yeah, doesn't it?"

Rod beamed. Sansa lead the way, he jumped in front of her and opened the door. She gave him an odd look but obliged and passed through. They climbed a set of stairs and passed through a glass door.

There weren't that many people inside, it was still relatively early after all, but those who were sat at the tables nearby all stared at the new arrivals. Pointing and soon some laughter came from the tables but oblivious, Rod cheerfully wandered across to the bar. The music was good, he thought, some strange funky jazz remix. His head was bobbing by the time they were at the bar.

"This place is really... err... nifty, don't you think?"

[Sansa]

"Uh, sure." She was sure her face was beet red from all the stares they were getting. Thankfully, after a few shots she wouldn't care as much. Rod was a nice enough lad, but his eccentricities caused him to stand out like a sore thumb in a class joint like this one.

Sansa quickly ordered a Very Cherry shot, "Better make it a double, on second thought." She dug into her pockets for her cash.

[Rod Stafford]

"Make it a tray," Rod said to the bartender.

He stared at the drinks menu, running his finger down the long list of complicated beverages. He frowned.

"What the hell are cocktails? I think we should try them."

What one do you want, Sansa?"

He noticed the money in her hand and tsked. He pointed at the cash and held out his hand.

"Do you like magic?"

[Sansa]

"Uh..." He was asking too many questions in quick succession. "The Scarlet Miss Charlotte sounds good. And magic is okay, I guess. The whole 'rabbit in a hat' gig is a bit old though."

Sansa looked down at the money in her hand, and cautiously gave him a fiver.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod grinned mischievously, the fiver now in his hand. He caught the attention of the guy serving them.

"Can we have a Scarlet Miss Charlotte and a Russian Bride, please?"

He turned his attention back to Sansa. He folded her five pound note and put it in his mouth. He chewed and chewed and chewed. The tray of six shots arrived, he took one and swallowed the note with the shot. The glass hit the bar with a clink.

"Ah! That's better."

He frowned at Sansa and rubbed his tummy.

"It was a bit dry."

[Sansa]

She stared at him, incredulously, and then took a shot in her hand and slammed it back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Sansa noted, "Paper money is filthy, you know. And covered with drug residue, no doubt."

Picking up another shot, she toasted him with it. "Now if you bring it back up as a fifty, that would be magic." Down went the second shot.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod laughed and helped himself to a second shot. He swallowed and winced.

"It really is very cherry."

He leaned against the bar and smiled at Sansa, who was already eyeing up a third shot.

"Don't you want to check your pockets?"

[Sansa]

Sansa eyed him, "Well, not really." To humor him, she did so, checking the front pockets of her jeans first, and finding nothing. "Your mojo is failing you," she winked, and then stuck her hand in one of her back pockets. "What the -"

She pulled out a slightly crumpled fiver. "That's amazing." She waggled it at him, "Not a fifty though. Guess that means I can't buy the next round." Sansa downed her third shot as their cocktails arrived, "That was pretty good though, I'll give you that. Where'd you learn to do that?"

[Rod Stafford]

"Greece," he answered deadpan, and winked.

Their cocktails arrived, and after the bartender had confirmed for Rod which drink was which, he was paid. Rod lifted up his tall glass of foamy white and brown froth and examined carefully with one eye closed.

"My uncle once told me that the company of a lady is priceless." He glanced at Sansa, and grinned.

"I think it's a good philosophy."

He placed his cocktail back on the bar and took a shot glass.

"I need some Dutch courage before I take on my Russian Bride."

He threw it back and looked across the room, he saw a free table.

"Fancy a seat?"

[Sansa]

"Sure." Sansa picked up her cocktail and the last shotglass, and got to her feet, feeling slightly wobbly. Rod expertly carried his drink to the free table, pulling out her chair for her.

She sat a little heavily, carefully arranging her two drinks in front of her. "So, are you from around here, Rod?"

[Rod Stafford]

"Not originally. Like I said earlier, I'm from Leicester but I've been living in Liverpool for nearly a year now. I just don't get to go into town much."

He smiled sheepishly at Sansa then braved his first sample of the Russian Bride. He liked his lips with a look of concentration on his face. He grinned.

"This is good. You should try it."

He slid his glass across the table to Sansa.

"So tell me a little bit about the night you got your war scars," he leaned closer with a wicked grin, "Every sordid detail."

[Sansa]

Sansa timidly sipped his drink, "Oh, that is good. Better take it back before I finish it off for you." She pushed it back across the table at him.

"If you mean this," the girl touched the fading bruise on her forehead, "I'm afraid the only thing that happened was I drank too much champagne on New Years Eve and fell and hit my head." She shook her head, "I don't remember much of what happened that night."

Picking up her Scarlett Miss Charlotte she raised her glass, proclaiming, "The way tonight is going I won't remember much of this either!"

[Rod Stafford]

"Cheers to that!"

Rod raised his glass and took an adventurous mouthful. On the plasma screen behind the bar, the results of the day's football fixtures appeared.

"Heh."

He pointed at the screen.

"It looks like you have something to celebrate now."

[Sansa]

She spluttered in the middle of her drink. "We won!" Beaming, Sansa took another long swallow of the cocktail, then noticed that other people around her weren't too happy at her outburst.

Ducking a little in her chair, sheepishly, she was still grinning. "Gwen will be furious."

[Rod Stafford]

"I don't know. She looked quite happy in the middle of that brawl earlier."

Rod noticed a table full of people all looking in their direction. He smiled and gave them a quick wave. They didn't return the gesture so he simply looked back at Sansa and shrugged.

"Funny people in here," he said absently, "Anyway, even if Gwen is furious, at least your other mate has something to be happy about while licking his wounds."

Rod laughed, remembering the incident. There was a look of concern on Sansa's face.

"Don't worry about him, or Gwen. They seem to be able to take of themselves from what I saw."

His eyes narrowed with amused scrutiny.

"You, on the other hand, you don't seem to be the type of person who makes a habit of getting mixed up in pub punch-ups, right?"

[Sansa]

Sansa shook her head. "Oh, no, I'd rather stay out of it. Conflict, you know." She gave an exaggerated shudder. "Reading about it is one thing, being in one is another. But I do like my football, and I haven't seen Gwen and Peter in ages."

She laughed, the alchohol starting to have its way with her body. "If I'd known Pete was going to start a brawl maybe I would have stayed home to watch the match on the telly."

[Rod Stafford]

"What do you do at home?"

Eagerly, he leaned closer and clasped his hands on the table.

[Sansa]

Scarlett Miss Charlotte was being finished off by an increasingly giddy Sansa. "I'm a tutor. Well, that's what I told my parents, at least. I'm a glorified nanny for two kids, Tristan and Victoria Brown." She swirled around the last bit of her drink and the melting ice in her glass. "I feel sorry for them - their mother hardly has anything to do with them and Mr. Brown hasn't a clue how to deal with his own children. He tries, at least. Mrs. Brown is an unforgivable socialite."

She blushed, "Though I don't tell them that, of course." Sansa chuckled, "Didn't mean to go off like that! I blame the vodka!"

[Rod Stafford]

"No, don't worry," Rod said, amused, "It's nice."

Sansa gave him a puzzled look.

"I mean it's nice that you care about them. Not that Mrs. Brown is an unforgivable socialite or anything. That's not... nice."

Rod finished awkwardly and snatched up his drink, burying himself in it. He tried to think of something to say. Something smart. The ice in his glass clinked as he tipped it back as far as he could. Sansa's face was swollen in the bottom of the glass. She was toying with the remnants of her own drink.

"Come on, think of something. Something on topic. Something clever," he thought with desperation.

Sansa looked at him. His glass hit the table and he smacked his lips.

"Ah! So, do you want to have a baby?"

[Sansa]

Her eyes popped wide, and Sansa waggled a finger at him. "I don't think I've drunk enough vodka for you to be talking like that, Mr. Stafford."

[Rod Stafford]

Rod sat back in his seat. He titled his head at her. An eyebrow raised in confusion. Then suddenly it hit him. The other eyebrow joined the first and his mouth hung agape. He shook his head until the words came out.

"No! No! No! No! No! I didn't mean it like that, sorry. Honestly, I didn't. I meant..."

He ran both his hands through his messy hair, making it look even more ridiculous. He winced at his own foolishness.

"I'm so stupid... I'm really sorry, what I meant was do you plan on having children of your own one day? You know, with you already being a nanny and all."

[Sansa]

She giggled at his consternation, and shrugged, "Oh, I don't know. If I meet the right bloke, you know?" A stray thought made her wonder what her children would look like if Gabriel Rodermark was the father. Another thought, following closely on the first thought's heels, made her blush.

"But you know, kids are real pains in the butt." She tipped back her nearly empty glass, and chewed on a piece of ice. "What about you? You want the house, wife, two point five kids amd the picket fence?" The conversation was taking an entirely too familiar turn, but Sansa didn't really care anymore.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod thought about it for a moment, the ice clattering against the glass in his hand. He kept his eyes fixed downwards when he answered.

"I don't know about the kids and the picket fence."

He looked up and added, "But as for the rest..."

He shrugged, feigning carelessness. An awkward silence followed.

[Sansa]

Sansa seemed oblivious to the awkwardness of the moment, setting her empty glass down with a careless bang. "Are we all settled up at the bar then?"

She brushed her hair out of her eyes, finding herself giggling at the mysterious movements of her fingers in her field of vision. "You said you wanted to visit more clubs, didn't you?" Sansa scooted out of her chair, reaching for Rod's hand to pull him out of his seat and ending up swaying precariously on her suddenly treacherous feet.

[Rod Stafford]

When Sansa found her fingers and hair so suddenly entertaining, Rod hid his amusement behind his hands. However, he soon leapt up to her aid when she lost her balance. He grabbed her hand and steadied her.

"You lightweight!"

He lead her out, holding the door open. She managed the stairs with a degree of uncertainty but kept giggling to herself. When the cool night air hit them, he sighed.

"This is a nice night," he said, looking up.

Maybe it was the drink in his veins but he felt really good. Suddenly, he stood straight and offered Sansa his arm. He did a flawless old posh accent.

"After you, malady."

[Sansa]

"Why, thank ye kindly," Sansa prattered, the perfect imitation of a little old American lady from the South. She slung her arm through his for support, and they started off down the street. Fake accent abandoned, she giggled again.

"Who picked out your clothes for you? I mean, really. I bet those pants are big enough for both of us to wear them!"

[Rod Stafford]

"I do all my clothes shopping all on my own!" Rod retorted.

He quickly examined his own clothes and then stepped away from Sansa and regarded hers with his arms folded. He frowned.

"What's so different about what you're wearing to my stuff?"

While he rattled on about his clothes, he had to jog sideways to keep up with Sansa, who hadn't stopped walking. That was until he dropped his trousers.

"Oi you! Come here, I want you to put your mouth where your money is!"

He stood, arms outstretched and with his trousers around his ankles in the middle of the street. He wore Liverpool football club boxer shorts, bold red with the badge strategically placed.

"Room for two? Get in!"

[Sansa]

Sansa burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of his knees practially glowing in the streetlights, and shoved him in the shoulder, nearly falling over as she did so. "Pull your pants up!"

He fended her off easily, "Oh no, I don't think so!"

She stumbled backwards, still laughing. "Please, I don't want to get into your pants that badly." Sansa giggled, "Get it? Into your pants?" She leaned against a streetlamp, hooking her arm around it for support.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod gave Sansa a puzzled stare. He didn't get it. He snorted with indignation and pulled his pants up, muttering to himself.

"... always having a pop at my clothes, I don't see..."

After fastening his belt, he crossed the road to join her. He smirked at her hanging from the lampost.

"What's the matter, Sansa? You're looking a little light-headed there."

She stared at him blankly.

"Light-headed. Get it?" He pleaded, pointing up. "Light-head... urgh..."

Sansa rasped her disapproval. Rod grabbed her hand, yanked her away from the lampost and pulled her down the street.

[Sansa]

She let him pull her along, feeling strangely liberated in her haze of vodka. She was slightly worried about getting back to Gwen and Peter's flat, but for the moment she decided that she would just 'go with the flow.' Live in the moment. Gwen would be so proud of her.

Sansa lengthened her strides to keep up with Rod. He really wasn't bad looking at all, as long as you overlooked his horrible fashion sense. He was obviously harmless, as well. After a few minutes of walking, with Sansa giggling from time to time about everything and nothing and Rod enjoying pointing out new things to make her giggle, they entered another bar.

There was a band playing in the back of it - the music was decent. Sansa leaned up to Rod's ear to make herself heard over it. "I need to find a loo."

[Rod Stafford]

"Again?"

He looked at her incredulously. She shrugged. He glanced around the first floor of the smokey club and saw a pink neon sign which said: Girls. He pointed it out and off she went.

The bar clamoured with curiously dressed people. Rod liked their clothes; some had black leather and studs, others had pink bodices and fishnet stockings; some girls were plain and had shaved heads, some boys had long hair and make-up. Everyone seemed to be pierced.

Rod found a spot at the bar between an irate looking girl with a green mohawk and bearded man with dice tattooed onto his bare head. After a few moments, he was served and ordered drinks for Sansa and himself.

He returned to his original position and Sansa had not yet got back from the toilet. He stood on the outskirts of a large mass of people all jumping around and dancing. He recognised the song the band was playing. He looked up at the stage and grinned.

[Sansa]

After taking care of business in the lavatory, Sansa stared at herself in the mirror. In her jeans and red MAN U t-shirt, she was not really dressed for club hopping. Pulling the t-shirt over her head, Sansa tucked it into the back of her pants so it draped down over her butt with the logo placed in where no one could see it. The black slinky tank she was wearing underneath was technically underwear, but with her slight figure no one would notice.

She tied her wavy hair back out of her face, and ventured out into the club. Rod didn't seem to have moved, but two drinks had magically appeared in his hands. Magic. She chuckled.

Sansa sashayed over to him, giving her rump a good wiggle as she stopped next to him. "One of those for me?" She winked.

[Eddie]

The drums throb in the back of everyone's mind, relentlessly bashing away at their eardrums and echoing through to their cerebelums. And there to escort it all the way to those tingly-jingly sensuous nerve endings - the bass. It drives the song along just beneath the surface like some groovy lifestream - pumping away to the very heart of the moment.

In conjunction with the band, I command my guitar, bending it to my every whim. My wish is its command as I strike down upon its sexy stringy-strings. They vibrate and gyrate, the golden sound resonating through and along the fretboard down to the bridge and into the humbucker pickup. The vibrations convert into a nameless, intangible thing that travels through gadgets and along wires and finally out through the amplifiers behind and beside us. The orgy rushes forth and engulfs the crowd, washing over them like warm milk as their eyes emit stars that float out towards me.

The singular but unisolated notes that comprise the solo ring out behind everyone's eyes, ripple down their spinal chords and span out down their limbs. They punch out and high-five and caress and clap and stamp and kick and jump and twist. They do all those lovely things their bodies want them to do and my guitar tells them to do. They sweat and pant and breathe. They hug and kiss and smile and rock out as if they'll never be able to again.

As the last note rings out to end the solo the rhythm guitar cuts out momentarily, exemplifying and intensifying that oh-so groovy backbeat - the bass and the drums. It always comes back to the groove; invisible but oh-so essential for without it, there is nothing to lean on, nothing to float on, nothing to thrust to, nothing to snog to and nothing to have sex to. It's integral to the survival of the song, the body, the mind and the soul. The resulting effect was that they just couldn't help losing themselves in the groove.

Long live the groove.

The rhythm enters once more. They welcome it. They desire it. They need it. And who am I to deny them it? I rip henceforth with my pickety-picking plec and rock, rock, rock like I've never rocked before. I jump and spin and they mimic my dance. The band builds up to a chaotic climax of absolute cool. As the final beat draws near I lean ever so slightly forward enticingly. The scantily-clad girls near the front seem drawn nearer, as do some of the scantily-clad blokes. The mic calls out to me as I whisper sweet nothings towards it, beckoning it, seducing it. As my lips touch the strangely-textured orb, like the eye of a fly, I close my eyes and embrace the moment in all its glory. The final note holds and holds and moves out and over us all as I emit the last line.

"Oh yeah..."

The crowd bursts into an uproarous, riotous, well-deserved applause. I, and my fellow ecstatics, bow in unison and smile at our fans. It's all for them, but it's also all for us. It's not anyone's really - the music. It just is. It was always there, residing just out of reach, out of view. I just found it and wrote it down and played it. But it was us who made it what it was tonight - the moment. I enjoy it so much that I'm not ready to let it end.

"How about one more, eh?"

[Rod Stafford]

"Light, Bright Wavey Thing!"

Rod suddenly shouted out. He smiled at Sansa, who had pulled her drink from her lips and looked from Rod to the stage and back again. Even though the music had stopped, he still had to speak up over the ravenous crowd.

"See him up there?" he said, and pointed at the band's frontman, "His name's Eddie. He's a bloody good mucisian, don't you think?"

[Sansa]

She nodded, wide-eyed. "He's marvellous!" Sansa was leaning against Rod, feeling more than a little tipsy and trying hard not to show it.

"You know him?"

[Eddie]

Well well well, if it isn't the blast from the past himself. I didn't know Rod liked coming to town. He has good taste in clubs, and a great taste in music.

"Okay, this song is dedicated to a very good mate of mine. He's over by the bar, everyone say 'Yo Rod, whats up!?"

They look over and shout to Rod. Excellent, thats really great. He's a fantastic guy.

"Rod's new to Liverpool so why don't we all show him how us scousers paaaaaartaaaay!!!"

They cheer and scream and clap. It's music to my all-hearing bunny ears. I turn around briefly to let the band know we're going to play the song for Rod. They give a nod back and we're all set.

"Okay, this song goes out to Rod and his girlfriend over at the bar. Rock on mate, and get us a drink ready - I'll be over right after this!"

I strike the strings and run my fingers all the way down the fretboard to the neck, the chord lurches all the way down with me, draggibng the crowd with it. The puddle of drums we meet and the bottom evelopes and drowns us and we can't seem to breathe. Somewhere, the faint sound of a bass guitar splashing in the dark, succulent waters starts to twang. And just when it seems like there's no going back, I unleash the opening riff and the beat picks up. Bring me that groove, baby. Bring me that groove!

[Rod Stafford]

"He took me in when I was first brought here. I lived with him and his flatmates for six months. Believe me, it was never quiet there, his kind aren't exactly the 'chill out and read a good book in bed' type."

He raised his drink in appreciation of Eddie's friendly gesture but when he said something about Sansa being his girlfriend, Rod nervously glanced at her and smiled sheepishly.

"Heh. Girlfriend."

Sansa gave him a curt smile but appeared preoccupied with the people around them. Rod smiled.

"You have to admit, in this place my clothes don't look too bad. So..." he hesitated, then quickly added, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

[Sansa]

Brought here. It was odd the way he said that. She blushed and forgot about it, however, when Eddie shouted she was Rod's girlfriend from the stage, and she looked around, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.

"You have to admit, in this place my clothes don't look too bad. So..." Rod paused, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"What? Me?" Sansa almost looked shocked as though the answer was obvious. "No, no. I mean, I've had one, but it didn't work out. Not that I fancy girls, or anything, I like boys, but you know how these things are."

The look on Rod's face said he really didn't know how these things are, and Sansa busied herself finishing her drink, hoping the club lights were hiding how red she thought she was getting.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod was stunned into silence. He slowly turned away from Sansa with a look of bewilderment, her eyes were darting this way and that. His eyes swept the crowd, he saw men dancing with women but there were also women dancing with women. He saw three scantily clad girls dancing together. Three. His eyes bulged. He shook it off and turned back to Sansa.

"Why didn't it work out?"

He was grinning from ear to ear now, having recalled the fact that she didn't have a boyfriend and apparently, she didn't like... girls.

[Sansa]

A piece of ice fell from the bottom of her glass and hit Sansa in the nose while she was finishing the drink, and she jerked back away from it, righting the glass and wiping at the wet spot on her face. "Oh, you know. Stuff..."

He was still grinning, and she had to admit that his choices of clothing didn't look too out of place in the club. His shirt, despite the eye-bending array of stripes, seemed to be hitting his body just right in the club lights and showing that underneath he had an impressive set of muscles. He was really quite cute. She had an evil thought about getting rid of his clothes to make him look better, and shook her head slightly to distract herself from it.

The room spun a little, and she tried to nonchalantly grab his arm for balance. "I was in Uni at the time, he wanted... more than I wanted to give him." Sansa bit her lip, "You know, stuff."

[Rod Stafford]

Rod stooped so that he was level with Sansa. He kept his arm up and sturdy to support her. Shock was written all over his face.

"He asked you to marry him?"

[Sansa]

She looked at him, bewildered. He had pretty eyes, too. "Marry? N-no... that's not... I mean..." Sansa shook her head, and then laughed, "God, can you imagine if he had?"

[Rod Stafford]

"No," he answered bluntly, but he was smiling at her amusement nonetheless. A fuzzy pride swelled inside him at the thought that Sansa found his company entertaining. She wobbled on her feet a little and he gently braced her waist with his hand to steady her. When she was sure-footed again, he quickly relinquished his hold on her.

"What surname would you have been lumbered with?"

[Sansa]

Sansa was still giggling, and at his question, she almost snorted with laughter. "Wittle.. wit -" Her knees got weak she was laughing so hard, "Wittlebottom! Can you imagine?!" She grabbed his arm again to steady herself, while people around them were starting to stare.

She sobered up after a moment, wondering what the hell she'd been thinking even going out with him. It was the same old sad story - she was lonely, and he'd paid attention to her. But still. Wittlebottom. Sansa started giggling again.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod laughed, not as hard as Sansa though, instead he focused on keeping her upright during her giggling fit. He beamed at Sansa and suddenly realised how comfortable he felt around her. Behind them, Eddie's band struck up the first chords of Light, Bright Wavey Thing and the hysteria of the masses resumed. Sansa had calmed herself.

"You can consider yourself lucky then, Sansa Wittlebottom."

He gave her a wink and took her hand.

"Come to the bar with me. I better get Eddie his drink before he finishes and I think we need a refill."

Carefully, he lead her through the densely-packed crowd, making a gradual beeline for the bar. A tall man with green dreadlocks and his shorter friend with a piercing in his lip passed them and stopped to oogle at Sansa. She had difficulty getting past them. Rod turned and saw the two men, he nonchallantly forced the taller one back by stepping in front of him. He put his hand on Sansa's back and escourted her to the bar.

"What will it be, miss?"

[Sansa]

She leaned against Rod as he got her safely through the crowd, and slapped her palm on the top of the bar. "How 'bout a water." Her head felt heavy so she rested it against his shoulder as he ordered the drinks.

After a moment the music was starting to get to her, and she pulled on Rod's t-shirt. "Do you dance?"

[Rod Stafford]

Rod froze suddenly. His entire body went taught and so tense that with her head on his shoulder, the was no way Sansa could not have noticed. He didn't answer her at first, instead he conducted his business with the bartender and recieved his change. She tugged at his t-shirt again.

"D-dance? Dan-dance?" he stuttered, passing her a bottle of water.

"Do I dance?"

She nodded at him. He glanced over at the dancefloor and saw it filled with both men and women who clearly knew what they were doing. His throat went dry.

"Erm..."

He took a quick swig of his beer and then smiled at her, hoping the topic had been forgotten.

[Sansa]

She put the water bottle to her lips, stepping back slightly from Rod, gyrating her hips and letting the rest of her body follow as he glanced nervously at her from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, dance. C'mon, it'll be loads of fun."

Sansa saw him look towards the dance floor, and patted his arm. "Don't worry, no one will even notice us." She tugged him away from the bar.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod likened the feeling of being dragged to the dancefloor to the feeling one must have endured being lead to the gallows. His chest pounded and he had difficulty holding the drinks in his clammy hands. He wrapped his lips around the beer bottle and gulped two thirds of its contents while Sansa was turned away from him.

All too soon, Sansa found a spot for them in the middle of several groups of people. Somehow, she'd managed to dance while she walked and simply continued to sway and move to the music. She smiled at Rod, he gave her a sheepish grin and quickly broke eye contact. He watched a few people dancing and a part of him inside willed himself to immitate them, and almost when he thought his joints were going to loosen, they tightened. He stood there like a rock and prayed for a disturbance; a fight, a fire; he prayed for the roof to cave in, for the sky to open up and swallow him whole.

[Sansa]

For a few seconds she didn't even notice her partner's plight, the music was incredible and she felt like she could have danced all night to it. She was just about to really let go and get into it when she caught the look on Rod's face.

Sansa reached up and put her hand on the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Don't watch the others, just watch me. Here..." she ran her hand down his arm and grabbed his wrist, putting them down by her waist. "Just move to the music. There's nothing to it." She put her hands behind his head, still holding her water bottle, and picked out a slower beat to groove to with the music.

[Rod Stafford]

When her hand touched his face, all the tension left him and he seemed to melt. He sighed and watched her dance. There was a sweet scent on her arms. He loved the closeness. The music was something else, it was one of his favourite songs and to hear it played live was a thrill. He didn't know how to dance to it but it didn't matter as much anymore.

He smiled at Sansa and realised he still wasn't moving. His beer bottle was pressed against his lips again, he couldn't finish it quickly enough and tossed it aside. The free hand now pressed delicately against her waist and he grinned a grin to shame the Cheshire Cat. He felt Sansa moving and very slightly, very awkwardly, he moved in time with her.

"This isn't so bad."

[Sansa]

The quicker movements of the dancers on the dance floor seemed not to touch them as Sansa smiled up at Rod. "Told you so." To be honest, she thought that if she tried to dance any faster she'd probably get too dizzy and end up falling on her rear.

The lights were sufficiently blurry above their heads, and she worked on focusing on Rod's face. His movements were timid, and she took a moment to roll her hips from side to side under his hand. She grinned to match his, all thoughts of football and missing friends forgotten.

[Eddie]

Just as I breathe in to start singing, I notice Rod being led to the dancefloor by this mystery girl. She's cute. I never knew he had it in him. Lucky fella! I miss my cue and the band play the intro riff once more. I quickly improvise a short, catchy solo lick to fill the gap so I don't look like a complete pleb!

Good God ya'll! He's got his hands on her hips. Now she'll bring her knees in tight I bet. Or...no. She's got her hands arund his neck! Bloody hell, go 'ead Rod! Go on, son!

One, two, one, two, three...

There's a man outside and he's looking for something
And he doesn't know where to begin.
From the look on his face I'd say he needs a stiff drink
So why don't you let him in.

I ask you man what's gettin' you down?
Pull up a chair and get rid of that frown.
Wipe that melancholy look offa yo' big fat face.
I'm gonna tell you all about my saving grace.

It's a Light, Bright Wavey Thing.
It bites if you want but it doesn't sting.
It's my Light, Bright, Wavey Thing.
I'm gonna keep it by my side until the big Ka-ching!

Well he looked at me as if I was on drugs,
So I stared right back because I AM own drugs!
He didn't comprehend what I was talkin' about.
He didn't fathom the depths of my insatiable mind!

I explained to him why there was no need to frown.
I mused of how the soul can learn to 'Get Down'.
So wipe that melancholy look offa yo' big fat gobs.
I'm gonna tell you all about a thing that's greater than the Gods.

It's a Light, Bright Wavey Thing.
It bites if you want but it doesn't sting.
It's my Light, Bright, Wavey Thing.
I'm gonna keep it by my side until the big Ka-ching!

But the man broke down, he started to cry;
A vibe coming from his soul like he wanted to die.
I leaned in close and said 'Close your eye's.
I'm gonna show you a thing that'll blow your mind.'

For me its my music, for some its their kids.
For my mate it's his girlfriend, for my mother it's me.
For some it's technology, for others it's nature.
It's whatever you want that makes you feel free.

It's a Light, Bright Wavey Thing.
It bites if you want but it doesn't sting.
It's my Light, Bright, Wavey Thing.
I'm gonna keep it by my side until the big Ka-ching!

It's a Light, Bright Wavey Thing.
I'm gonna keep it by my side until the big Ka-ching!
It's my Light, Bright, Wavey Thing.
I'm gonna keep it by my side until the big Ka-ching!

Groove, baby, groove! My fingers and toes go all tingly as I watch the crowd swing and sway. And I smile, looking over to where Rod is getting his own groove on. Have fun mate - I think you'll find girls a lot more fun in this century!

The bass creeps up behind me from where Tiger Feet is tickling her thick steel strings. The wall of sound rushes over my shoulders and advances onto the swarming, psychadelic mass of writhing bodies. The intelligent lights seem to caress the girl's body, and Paul Daniels can't seem to get enough of her curvy-wurvy in-and-out bits.

[Rod Stafford]

When Sansa rolled her hips, Rod lost his concentration and stood still, preocuppied by the way she moved. He liked it and looked down at her undulating curves. Then he snapped out of it and looked up, she was staring at his face and he felt a little embarrassed. She was smiling.

His movements became more adventurous, he was a little off-beat and still unsure but he couldn't hide his glee. Sansa's body moved in a very particular way and he started to understand the relationship between music and dancing. It was fun.

"You're a special girl, Sansa."

[Sansa]

She grinned, "I know." Sansa laughed, "I hope you didn't mean special ed." The song was winding down, but Rod was actually trying to dance with her, which was great.

"See, I told you, nothing to it." Light, Bright, Wavey Thing ended in a flurry of music, and Sansa stood up on her tiptoes to kiss Rod on the cheek. "Thanks for the dance." She giggled at the look on his face, and turned to applaud the band.

[Rod Stafford]

A disbelieving look of suprise remained fixed on Rod's face for a moment while he stared at the back of Sansa's head. The corner of his mouth curled up and he punched the air in celebration. He glanced to his left and right, feeling very pleased with himself, hoping that someone might've noticed what had just happened. Everyone else was taken with the band on the stage, including Sansa. Rod raised his hands in the air, he whistled and clapped his appreciation, careful not to spill any of Eddie's drink.

[Eddie]

Our final applause of the night. We lap it up with our greatest gratitude. The rest of the band step forward. We all join hands then raise them up high before swinging back down and bowing in unison. As I look up again, my eyes meet Rod's, who is beaming. Glancing at the girl just in front of him, I point and smile at her. A few of the fans turn to see who my attention has focused on. I look back at Rod and shake a fist in triumph.

I saw the kiss, you stud!

I step back and grab the mic as the band move back to gather their gear.

"Thank you very, very much. You've been a fantastic audience. And don't forget, we're playing at the Carling Academy next saturday. We've been A Bitta Nosh, we still are and we always will be. Goodnight!"

Another barrage of applause assaults my ears as I begin to pack away my guitar and mic stand. As the DJ spins on for the rest of the young, sensual night we quickly finish up and move to the service lift at the back of the club.

Below, outside, we load up the van and lock it up once more before returning back upstairs for the aftershow party. The high temperature inside the club is a harsh contrast to the bitter cold outside, but a welcome one. It doesn't take long for me to find Rod, standing just to the side of the dancefloor by one of the columns that separate it from the bar area. He's leaning against it, resting his arm on the ledge that houses an assortment of empty bottles.

"Hiya mate, how are you!? Give us a hug will you. I haven't seen you in ages! Who's your girlfriend?"

[Sansa]

Rod hadn't said much after the song was over, but he'd escorted her to the edge of the dancefloor, a silly grin on his face the whole time. Sansa was grateful for his helpful attitude, because to tell the truth she was getting a little wobbly on her feet as the alchohol she'd consumed continued to work its magic.

At the bar she finished up her water, hiding slightly behind him as the front man for the band came up, Eddie.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod lunged forward and scooped Eddie up in a tight hug. It seemed the appropriate thing to do considering how pleased he was to see him, plus the alcohol helped. Eddie was light in his arms and he comically rocked him from side to side. Eddie squeazed out his last few words while locked in the embrace. Rod plonked him down and passed him his Southern Comfort and Coke(with ice).

"It's good to see you again, mate," he said, and stepped aside to reveal Sansa clearly.

"And this is Sansa, a friend of mine. I met her today but watch out, she's a Manc!"

[Eddie]

I drink from the golden cup of Ambrosia. Well okay, so its a plastic glass with So'Co and Coke but it's not like the internal monologue police are here!

'Ah! Nice one mate. Fit for the Gods, eh!?'

He steps aside to reveal many interesting things. The timid demeanor, the deep, vortex-like, pretty eyes, the lushious lips and the shy grin. All belonging to his fancy-lady. His femme fatale. His dame. His broad. His bird! His biatch. His babe.

'Nice to meet you girl! I see you've got no wings so I'll assume you're not Rod's bird.'

She laughs slightly. I hate the way lads from Liverpool call their girlfriend's birds, as if they go home and lock 'em in a bloody cage!

'A Manc eh!Well don't worry love, I'm not prejudice. It doesn't matter who you are to me as long as you like to have a good time and you believe in something!'

I take another sip of my drink. Yeah! That hit the spot. The ice is melting. It's always roasting in this friggin' place.

'Are you guys out late tonight?'

[Sansa]

Sansa tried to figure out where to interject her greetings into Eddie's stream of words, but in the end figured that it was easier just to smile and nod. He was really manic, but in a good way that put her at ease.

"We were watching the match earlier," she finally put in, "But I got separated from my friends. I had to save Rod from an angry cow at the bar." She elbowed Rod with a wink.

[Eddie]

'God, I've told him a thousand times. You can't just go around helping yourself to the milk. They don't like it when you grab their udders! Only farmers know how to do it prop'ly"

That entire notion intrigues me. I wonder if it could form the basis of a song. The ultimate question is...would it be better on a six or a twelve string!? The mind boggles!

'Well it looks like you did okay Sansa - no shiners or anything from what I can see. Wish I could say the same for you mate! You look like crap! Eeeeeeee! What happened to your face?'

I stare at Rod in disgust. There's nothing wrong with it, but you have to wind someone up in the presence of a girl they like, don't ya?!

[Rod Stafford]

Rod's hands flew to his face. He fumbled frantically with his features and stared at Eddie with worry.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

He snapped about face and looked into the mirror behind the bar. Squinting, he leaned forward to get a closer look and saw there was nothing wrong with his face. Slowly, he stood upright and turned to face Eddie again.

"Very funny, mate," he said, devoid of amusement.

A curl in the corner of his mouth betrayed his mood. Eddie was a funny guy and Rod didn't pretend to possess the wit to match him. He just wished his humour didn't make him look like such an idiot, although that (he'd painfully discovered) was the way with most scousers and their sardonic banter. Then suddenly, like a bolt of lightning to the brain, Rod had an epiphany. He looked at Sansa.

"Sansa here was asking me just a few moments ago what sort of music you were playing."

He looked at Eddie who now had a sparkle in his eyes and had just opened his mouth to speak when Rod added, "She thought you were a Spice Girls tribute band."

[Eddie]

The little bugger! So the hunter becomes the hunted eh. I'll let him have that one.

'Ah, I know yeah. We tried our best but weren't even close. We're just a buncha' wannabees!'

The music dies down as the current song finishes up. I hope the next one is a good'un. While its quiet, I seize the opportunity. I close my eyes and sway slightly, putting on my best scouse-girl voice.

'I said'a who-ooo-ooo...do you think you are!?'

Before I can finish the line, a passing shirtless punk-rocker with spiked green hair leans in close on his way to the toilets and reciprocates with a lovely, high-pitched, though overly-scally 'Do you think you aaaarr!!'.

I give him a thumbs up, a smile and a wink. Then he spoils the moment by doing that loathesome thing that all scouse lads seem to be stricken with - a sudden neck spasm that causes the head to jolt backwards. I think it means 'Alright, mate!', though it could just be a symptom of some awful condition.

I start to swig off the rest of my drink when an invisible bolt of lightning strikes the top of my head, causing my eyes to widen in excitement, then moves down my back and into my feet.

'It's a kind of magic.'

*Click...click*

'Come on, get on the dancefloor you two, pronto! This is my favourite song!'

[Sansa]

Sansa giggled, holding onto Rod's arm as he tried to protest another round of dancing without knocking her over. She liberated his beer from his other hand and finished it off for him.

"Oh c'mon, Rod." She batted her eyes at him, and then shrugged, "Guess its just you 'n me then, Eddie."

[Rod Stafford]

Rod stared helplessly at his empty bottle then at Sansa. She slipped away from his arm and sashayed through the crowd after Eddie, who was already bouncing around. He frowned and slumped against the bar, waiting to be served.

Over his shoulder, he saw that Sansa had finally caught up with Eddie and they danced together. He stared at them intently, relieved to see that they weren't dancing together like he had done earlier. They appeared to be enjoying themselves. A lot. He turned to watch them, leaned back against the bar and folded his arms.

"I hate dancing," he muttered.

The music thumped in his ears. He tapped the floor with his foot, trying to find the beat. He grumbled and started stamping his feet and rocking his head, completely off beat. The girl next to him poked him in the arm and asked him if was alright. He nodded at her and stopped. His cheeks burned.

"I really hate dancing."

The bartender tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, but he was transfixed in deep study of Eddie's moves. Rod wondered how he did it. How any of them did it. Boys and girls dance very differently. The chorus kicked in, something about magic, and Eddie moved in a little closer to Sansa. They laughed. Rod's eyes opened wide. He stood upright and quickly marched over to join them.

"Bloody dancing."

[Eddie]

I spin around in ecstasy. The music wraps around my body, caressing it. I tap my feet and gyrate in tandem. Sansa jives with me; her movements a female translation of my own. I take her hand and raise it above her head. She twirls around with a giggle. I smile at her and look over her shoulder, where I see Rod coming to join us. I take his hand, much to his surprise, and twirl him in a similar fashion. He turns around awkwardly, looking frantically in all directions. 'Duck out of water' doesn't come close.

'The bell...that rings...insiiiide your mind...'

[Sansa]

Sansa giggled at the look on Rod's face as Eddie tried to spin him, and grabbed for his hand to try to calm him down.

Unfortunately someone chose that paticular moment to bump her from behind and she lost her balance, toppling awkwardly towards Rod.

[Rod Stafford]

"He's at it again," Rod thought when he saw Sansa giggling at him after Eddie had spun him around like a ballerina.

His feelings of discomfort quickly dissipated at the sight of Sansa being bumped off balance and consequently flying towards him. He crouched low and caught her in his arms before she could hit the floor. There was a moment when there was an absent expression on her face and Rod gently tapped her cheek to bring her around. He shifted his weight to support her in his arm better and put his hand on her forehead.

"Sansa, are you alright?"

[Sansa]

She frowned lightly, and then nodded, smiling as he pulled her upright once more. "Of course... I'm great." Sansa smiled in a breathy sort of way, but seemed more than happy to let Rod support most of her weight.

[Eddie]

The song comes to an end, warping into some sort of artillery barrage consisting of distortion and drums. I think its Slipknot so I usher Rod and Sansa to the bar area where it's a little quieter.

'How long are you guys staying here for? It's just that there's a party in about an hour at one of the student flats in 'Lennon Studios' up by the 'Phil' and I'll be going there soon. You're welcome to join me - it'll probably be an all-nighter if the last one's anything to go by...'

[Rod Stafford]

His arm was secured around Sansa's slim waist since holding her arm simply didn't help anymore. She was unsteady on her feet and Rod was concerned for her, chiefly because he wasn't feeling sure-footed himself. He listened intently to Eddie's offer and shrugged.

"It sounds like it will be a great party, mate, but I don't know."

He subtly nodded his head down at Sansa, Eddie looked at her as did he, and she appeared quite drowsy. Rod used his free hand to rub her shoulder and get her attention.

"Hey Sansa, how do you feel about going to Eddie's party?"

[Sansa]

She smiled up at him, "Sounds fantastic."

Underneath the loud music coming from the dancefloor, there was another tune. It sounded strangely like an AC/DC song, and it seemed to be coming out of one of Sansa's pockets. She looked around, confused, for where the other music was coming from.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod looked from Sansa to Eddie. He shrugged. Rod tucked his hand delicately into Sansa's pocket and pulled out a cellphone. He offered it to her.

"Sansa, it's your moveable phone. Answer it."

[Sansa]

She giggled, "Oh, its me!" Flipping the cell phone open Sansa paused and then said, "Hello?"

"Sansa? Thank God - where are you?"

"Gwen!" She grinned, "Where are you?"

"At my flat, silly. Where I expected to find you. You're not still with that guy from the bar, are you?"

"What? Oh...no... Not really..." She laughed incriminatingly.

"You are, aren't you. Sansa!" Gwen's voice was getting louder and Sansa thought she sounded a bit proud. "You're much too giggly. You're stinking drunk, aren't you. Give me to someone else."

Obediently Sansa held the phone out to Rod. "She wants to talk to you."

[Rod Stafford]

Rod leaned away from the phone as if it was about to explode in his face. Sansa pushed it closer to him and feebly, he clasped it in his fingers. He held the tiny thing to his mouth.

"Hello... Gwen?"

Then he quickly held it up to his ear.

"What are you doing dragging her all over the place like that. She's rotten! Don't you have any sense of decency at all?"

Nervously, he held the phone flat in the palm of his hand and spoke to it.

"I'm sorry... Sansa was having fun. She's safe with us. Don't worry."

"WHO THE HELL IS 'US'?"

Rod didn't need to hold the phone to his ear that time. He answered timidly, looking up at Eddie for moral support.

"Me and my friend, Eddie. She's fine. Honestly," he smiled, and added enthusiastically, "We're going to a party at..."

"OH, NO YOU'RE NOT. YOU BRING HER HOME. SANSA, I DON'T WANT YOU GOING TO ANY WEIRD PARTIES WITH THOSE WEIRDOS. GET YOURSELF HOME!"

Rod held the phone at arms length towards Sansa. He was as white as a sheet.

"It's for you."

[Sansa]

Sansa sighed dramatically and took the phone back, leaning comfortably against Rod as she put it to her ear. "Yes Gwen, its me."

There was an audible voice coming from the earpiece of the phone as it appeared that Gwen was still shouting.

"O.K. I won't go. But... Gwen..." she dissolved into giggles again, "I don't remember where you live. ... what? Hold on, need a pen..." Sansa looked around a bit, and then said, "No I don't have one yet. Hold on, here's Rod again. Tell him, you know I can't rememeber anything when I've been drinking."

She held the phone out for Rod, laughing about something to herself.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod took the phone and without hesitation, handed it over to Eddie. Sansa was still laughing. Rod gave him a curt nod.

"Do your thing."

[Eddie]

Moveable phone. Gotta love that guy!

'Listen Gwen, don't speak. She's just a girl. And like any other girl I've no doubt she just wants to have a hella' good time. So the three of us are gonna go meet up with my bandmates and rock on until the sun comes up...what? Yeah, I'm in a band...'Bitta Nosh'...oh yeah? Nice one. Just done a gig tonight at the K!'

I give Rod a sly wink. Looks like it's sorted.

'Well I tell you what - why don't you and your mates head up to Lennon Studios' in about 45 minutes and tell the security guard that Eddie invited you. He'll let you through the gate. Come to the flat that's bouncin'...no buts, you know you want to...yeah I thought so. So I'll see you soon, be there or be square, bring some booze, you snooze you lose, ZOMG-KTHANKSBYE, wham, bam, thank you M'am!'

*Click*

I hand the now-closed phone back to Sansa.

'So we ready to partay then, or what!?'

[Sansa]

Sansa cheered and wiggled around so she could stick the cell phone back into the pocket of her jeans. "I am!"

The room felt like it was spinning, but it was a nice sensation, really. Besides, Rod was helping her. She grinned up at Rod. "C'mon, Stafford."

In a few minutes they were out in the chill January air, breath misting up around them. Eddie was still inside gathering up the rest of the band, or his friends, or... something... and she shivered a little, pulling her red t-shirt out of the back of her jeans and wrapping it around her forearms. "Hope Gwen picked up my coat from the bar," she giggled, and then swayed over to the curb, trying to walk along it without falling into the street.

[Eddie]

I exit the club with the band behind me. The two bouncers shake my hands as I step out into the 3am air. I embrace the chill rather than shudder in its wake. It´s such a refreshing feeling; stepping outside after working up such a sweat during a fantabulous gig.

'Cheers mate. See you soon, okay? Keep it real!'

Sansa and Rod are just on the edge of the road. I run over and nudge them slightly. Sansa falls off the curb and onto the road, pulling Rod with her. I spy a drunken bugger with a messy beard in an alcove on the other side.

'Hey Sansa, I think that fella fancies you! Give him a snog! I dare ya!'

[Sansa]

Sansa squealed as she toppled off the curb, Rod catching her and keeping her from falling down into the street. She replied to Eddie's dare with a very un-ladylike wave of her middle finger.

[Rod Stafford]

"The lady has spoken, Ed."

Rod grinned at Eddie. Ironically, the middle finger gesture was something Eddie had taught him. He reacted comically to the gesture, holding his hands up at arms length before his face, as if he were a vampire shielding himself from sunlight. He started to sway and fell to his knees theatrically.

"I'm melting! I'm melting! What a world!"

Sansa laughed but Rod found it a bit odd. Sadly, Eddie's performance was brought to a sudden stop when his bandmates shouted him from further up the street. He raised a thumb to them and stood up.

"Well, I have to run, ladies and gents. The guys are waiting for me. You guys gonna catch up?"

"Yeah, we'll be along shortly," Rod answered. Sansa was preoccupied with maintaining her balance on the edge of the raod so he quickly swapped places with her.

"Well, in that case..."

Eddie took Sansa's hand and kissed it.

"My lady."

He took Rod's hand and did likewise. Rod pulled his hand away, appalled.

"Good sir! Smell you later!"

And with that, Eddie tore off up the street. Rod looked down at his damp hand, then he looked at Sansa with uncertainty. He shrugged.

"That's Eddie for you. He's quite... a character, isn't he?"

[Sansa]

She giggled, almost losing her balance again, "You could say that!" Sansa made a show of wiping the back of her hand off on Rod's shirt. "So... a party?"

To be honest, she was starting to feel a too drunk, and she stumbled off the curb one more time, Rod barely catching her arm before she made a faceplant in the road. "Maybe I should get ...back to Gwen's..." Sansa giggled into Rod's chest as he awkwardly held her up.

[Rod Stafford]

"I think you're right," Rod said, and pointed down the street, "I can see a taxi rank at the end of the road."

He grinned at Sansa as she swayed in his arms, amused at how unaware she was of her lack of balance. He tried to steady her on her feet and secured an arm around her waist. He offered his hand to her for extra balance and they started walking further down the street. This time he noticed people looking at them, and it gave him a swell of pride to be seen with a girl like Sansa on his arm.

"So," he hesitated, and looked down at her expectantly, "Have you had a good night?"

[Sansa]

She pried her eyes open, and quirked up one of her eyebrows at his question. "Have you had a good night?"

"I asked first," he protested, still propelling her towards the taxi rank.

"Oh." Sansa considered that for a moment, and then replied, "But I asked... second." She poked him in the chest with a finger. "So there."

[Rod Stafford]

"Of course I've had a good night."

They came to the corner of a the street. The road was busy in town even this late at night. They stopped and waited for a break in the traffic. He thought about how the day had started and what the night had become and he smiled.

"In fact, I've had a great night."

He looked at her and narrowed his eyes.

"Even if you did make me dance!"

[Sansa]

She grinned up at him, "You liked it. I saw you."

Sansa sighed leaning up against him. It was funny - hours ago she would have never trusted Rod farther than she could throw him, and now she was let him cart her all over Liverpool. His hand tightened on hers and he tugged her into action as they made their way across the street towards the taxis. He just needed better clothes.

She remembered him dropping his pants in the middle of the street and burst out into giggles again as they gained the other side of the road.

[Rod Stafford]

"Have you got ants in your pants or something?" Rod laughed.

They circled the free taxi and Rod gripped the chunky silver handle on the black door and pulled. The large door was stiff and slowly creaked open. He held it open and guided Sansa inside. She slumped gracelessly onto the backseat and he joined her. Her head fell onto his shoulder.

"Where will it be, kids?"

The driver's beady eyes were reflected in the rear view mirror. He had immense bushy eyebrows. Rod gently nudged Sansa, who was already dozing off.

"Where are we going?"

[Sansa]

She yawned, and then sat up with a blank look on her face. "Um... I don't know. Didn't you get the ...directions from Gwen?"

Sansa snuggled in against Rod's side, detatching from the insuing conversation with the cabbie. He smelled like ... a man. It was nice - no overwhelming scent of cologne, and no B.O. Just... she yawned again, intertwining her fingers with his.

[Rod Stafford]

As Rod tried to explain the situation to the driver, he felt Sansa's fingers mingle with his and he couldn't help but smile. He looked down at her and opened his mouth to explain that he nor Eddie were able to get directions to Gwen's home but she looked so peaceful. Rod couldn't bring himself to wake her and instead, gave the driver directions to his flat.

The engine grunted to a start and the cab took off. Rod put his arm around Sansa's shoulders and moved an errant strand of her hair away from her eyes. He sighed and watched Sansa while she slept, occassionally tearing himself away to watch the city lights zoom by outside.

[Sansa]

She was sleeping for most of the cab ride. Not all of it. Rod put his arm around her shoulders and brushed her hair out of her eyes, and she went from being asleep to pretending to be asleep.

It was fun to see what people did around you when they thought you were unconscious. Rod was a perfect gentleman, merely rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. After a few minutes she started to smile in spite of her best efforts, but the cab was slowing and Rod was gently shaking her awake. She opened her eyes slowly, and let him help her out of the cab before he leaned back in to pay the fare.

She stood in the cold air, looking blearily around herself. "Where are we?"

[Rod Stafford]

For a moment, Rod stood sheepishly with his hands buried in his pockets. He pointed to a door among a row of terraced houses behind her. She turned to look at it and he stood by her side as the taxi drove off.

"You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you so I brought you to the only place I know."

He opened the gate and walked up to the door. His keys jingled in his hands as he strugled to fit it in the keyhole. He looked over his shoulder.

"This is my flat."

[Sansa]

"Oh ho," she crowed, though not quite sure why, and trundled up the walk after him. Sansa peeked around his broad shoulders to the dark inside of the flat as he opened the door.

"No roommates?" She put her hand in his and let him lead her inside as he flipped on lights.

[Rod Stafford]

Before them was a narrow staircase. A bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling. Rod gently urged Sansa inside with a tug on her hand. He closed the door behind her.

"No roommates," he answered, pocketing his keys.

Plain walls closed around them as they climbed the carpeted stairs. They came to a junction; one hall carried straight ahead while another turned right. They took the right hall. On the left side there were two doors, one door on the right and one at the end of the hall. He lead Sansa into the room on the far left and turned on the light.

Inside there was a humble living room furnished with one sofa, an old television, a gas fire, and a small table in the centre. In one corner there was a tall stack of old newspapers. He yawned.

"Well, this is it. Make yourself at home."

[Sansa]

Sansa immediately flopped onto the couch, leaning backwards against one of the arms with her eyes closed. "Everything is spinny!"

She giggled, eyes still closed, and reached out towards where Rod was. "Come sit with me!"

[Rod Stafford]

"I'll be right with you."

Rod left the doorway and crossed the hall. The sound of running water came from somewhere else in the flat and shortly, he returned with two glasses of water. He handed a glass to Sansa and joined her on the couch.

"Drink up otherwise you'll regret it in the morning."

He took a large gulp from his glass and set it down on the table. He slouched until he was comfortable and looked sideways at Sansa. He caught her eye and grinned.

"You didn't answer my question earlier."

[Sansa]

Sansa sipped the water, and looked over at Rod. "I don' remember a question..." She took a larger swallow, working hard to finish off the glass of water.

She giggled into her glass, and added on the heels of her previous comment, "You really should get out of those clothes." Sansa winked.

[Rod Stafford]

Rod nearly choked on his water and sputtered into the glass. He glanced at Sansa, she smiled, and he cleared his throat. He returned her smile faintly.

"Earlier, I asked if you'd had a good night or not. Remember?"

[Sansa]

She absently wondered if he even owned any better clothes, but figured that he must own some that could be arranged in a better combination than the ones he was wearing. Sansa gulped down the rest of her water and leaned foward to try to get the glass on the coffee table. "I'm having a great night."

She grinned at him, sort of dropped the glass onto the table, and settled back into the sofa. It was very comfy. "I don't usually do things like this, y' know."

[Rod Stafford]

"Drink water?" He asked, eyeing her with amusement.

[Sansa]

She giggled, "No, silly. I meant go out with a stranger. Or... I dunno. Usually I'm only out with just a few people who I know well."

Sansa's head felt heavy, and she leaned it on the back of the couch, her hair in her eyes. "But, I like you. You're good people. Aren't you?"

[Rod Stafford]

"Actually, the truth is I like to lull young women into a false sense of security, bring them home with me, then drink them dry of their blood. No, honestly. Apart from that, I'm not a bad bloke, though."

He stared at her with deadly seriousness. She giggled again and slid further into the sofa, her eyes closed slowly. It then dawned on him that she'd made a point about saying that she liked him. He stared down into his glass as he spoke.

"It's funny. I've spent the last six months meeting strangers but none of them have left the impression you have."

[Sansa]

Sansa kicked off her sneakers without unlacing them, which took a bit of effort on her part, and then tucked her feet up underneath her on the couch. "Why're you meeting so many strange people?"

She leaned over until she had her head on his shoulder, and yawned, her eys closing again.

[Rod Stafford]

"I didn't know anyone when I first came to Liverpool. I saw Eddie's advertisement for a housemate and lived with him up until a month ago. While I lived there, well, you can imagine all the different kinds of people I got to meet."

The room was chilly. Rod looked at the gas fire and it came to life, casting an orange glow on Sansa's face. He put his arm around her and rubbed her bare arm.

"So, when do you go back to London?"

[Sansa]

"Tomorrow... Hafta get back for my job. I took... today and tomorrow off." She yawned again, and snuggled up a little closer as he put his arm around her. He was nice and warm.

Then she groaned, "Damn that water. I need the restroom again." Sansa pushed herself upright with effort, and looked around. "You do have one, don't you?"

[Rod Stafford]

"First on the left."

For a moment, he sat in silence, and thought about what he and Sansa could've done the following day had she not been going home. He frowned, then stood and left the room. As he passed the bathroom, he heard a thud.

"Are you okay?"

"Um... yeah. I'm fine."

He shook his head and grinned. Next to the living room door was another, he opened it and turned the light on inside. His eyes opened wide and he quickly shut the door behind him. On the floor there were two pairs of dirty socks, and a pair of boxer shorts, t-shirts piled up in the corner of the room, and a half empty carton of orange juice sat next to a plate on the bedside cabinet. He scooped up all his clothes and threw them into a large wooden wardrobe. Next he picked up the juice carton and plate and raced out of the bedroom to dump them in the kitchen. Sansa was still in the bathroom.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" he called out.

"Yes, Rod."

Back inside the bedroom, he launched himself at his unmade bed. He threw the black and white checkered sheets to the floor and straightened out the matress and fluffed the pillows. He took a canister of deodorant and sprayed the bed liberally with it. He paused suddenly, and sniffed his armpit. He shrugged and sprayed. Finally, he threw the sheets up into the air to land softly back in place. He ironed out any creases with his hand and darted out into the hallway.

[Sansa]

Sansa swayed out of the bathroom, nearly knocking into Rod in the hallway. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and nearly fell over. He caught her neatly, and she giggled, "I'm so drunk. I can't even walk!" As it to prove it, she leaned nearly all her weight on him.

"Do I get to sleep somewhere?" she slurred, resting her head on his shoulder.

[Rod Stafford]

"You do. You can have my bed in there."

He wrapped an arm around Sansa's waist while she leaned on him so that when he turned, she turned with him. Steadily, he lead her through the doorway and once they were both inside, he turned her around.

"And here we are. Is this ok?"

[Sansa]

The room smelled a bit odd, but there didn't seem to be food wrappers all over or dirty laundry on the floor. Sansa hesitated a moment, and then took a step forward and sat on the edge of the bed.

Then she flopped down onto it, scooting backwards until she was laying roughly in the middle of the bed. "Ahh, comfy."

[Rod Stafford]

"I reckon that's a 'Yes', then."

Rod suddenly felt like he was intruding on something private and backed away until he stood in the doorway. Sansa didn't move. He watched her for a moment then cleared his throat.

"Well, if you need anything I'll be just next door."

[Sansa]

She patted the bed next to her. "Come here..." Sansa pouted, her lower lip sticking out as she looked over at Rod. "Its cold in here..."

[Rod Stafford]

The corner of his mouth curled upwards, betraying his feelings. He shuffled awkwardly into the room and closed the door behind him, shutting out the light from the hall. The orange glow of street lights spilled in through the bedroom window. On his bedside cabinet there was a reading lamp, he turned it on. The light in the room was soft. Sansa smiled sweetly at him and he felt warm inside. The warmth spread out from his body and difused into the air. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on hers.

"Still cold?"

[Sansa]

She wiggled around a bit, and nodded. "Yes, quite." Sansa stretched, arching her back, and then curled up again. "Closer."

She tugged at his hand, drawing him down next to her. He was a little awkward, but she promptly snuggled in close to his chest with a little sigh that smelled of vodka.

[Rod Stafford]

As much as he wanted to face Sansa; to look into her eyes and feel the warmth of her soft breath on his face, Rod stared at the ceiling. Waves of dark hair poured over his chest as she curled up delicately next to him. He closed his eyes and held his breath. His arm fell from the pillow and wrapped around her back. His hand rested gingerly on her waist and she didn't flinch. He sighed.

"I wish..."

Her bare foot touched his and his heart skipped a beat.

"Will I see you again?"

[Sansa]

"Mmmm," she mumbled, and then when he tried to talk to her again it became apparent that Sansa had fallen asleep.

[Rod Stafford]

For a moment, Rod fell silent and watched Sansa's head rise and fall in time with his breathing. He ran his fingers through her hair and tucked it neatly behind her ear so her face was no longer obscured. He stared at her and thought about the night they had enjoyed together. He leaned forward a little and smelled her hair.

Slowly, he removed his weight from under her and cradled her head in one hand while he tucked two pillows under it with the other. From under the bed, he pulled out a fresh sheet and wrapped her in it. When he was satisfied that she appeared comfortable, he turned the lamp off and made his way out of the room. In the open doorway, he turned back and took one last look at her, a single shaft of light ran across her face.

"Goodnight, Sansa."

And he shut the door.

[Sansa]

In the morning, Sansa turned over, opening bleary eyes to greet the new day. Where was she? She struggled out of the bed, catching her foot in the sheets and falling to the ground in an undignified heap.

"Bollocks!" she cursed, and pulled her foot free.

[Rod Stafford]

The thud startled Rod. He froze, staring at his reflection in the mirror, his toothbrush hung limp from his mouth. Then he heard the curse and quickly stepped out into the hall. He tapped on the bedroom door and spoke through a half-closed mouth.

"Sansa, are you alright?"

[Sansa]

She froze for a moment, and then dimly recognized the voice. Regaining control of her feet, Sansa stood up and opened the door, nearly poking her eye out on Rod's toothbrush. "Oh!" she started, and then added, "Er, I'm fine, thanks."

Except that her head was starting to pound. Damn you vodka! "You?" Sansa smiled, but was frantically trying to remember if anything had...happened... the night before.

[Rod Stafford]

"Never better," he answered.

Rod could tell she was hungover, he'd seen that look before and couldn't hide his amusement. He wondered if she was normally a morning person.

"Good morning."

He flashed her a bright smile and headed back into the bathroom. He brushed, gargled and spat. There was no towel, despite his desperate search. His t-shirt was on the floor and he used that instead and made mental note to make sure there was a towel available when Sansa used the bathroom. He called out.

"I'll sort us out with some breakfast in a minute. What would you like?"

[Sansa]

She pinched at the top of her nose where it attached to her forehead, and leaned against the doorway with her eyes squeezed shut. "Er, something with a side of asprin."

She opened one eye and peeked at the floor, stumbling from the bedroom into the sparse living room. Sansa sat down on the couch and curled up, feeling quite messy from sleeping in her clothes. "Bollocks!" She pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and saw that she had nine missed calls. Gwen was probably in an uproar.

[Rod Stafford]

"Two bollocks, already?"

Rod appeared in the doorway and saw the phone in her hand.

"Let me guess, Gwen's not a happy lady?"

[Sansa]

Sansa made a face, "I can only imagine." She held the phone away from her like it was a poisonous reptile, and added, "I should call her and make sure she knows I'm okay." She didn't sound to happy about it.

After a moment she flipped the phone open and called Gwen's cell.

[Rod Stafford]

While Sansa spoke with Gwen, Rod ventured into the bedroom and dug through his wardrobe for something to wear. He slipped into a pair of worn jeans and a Bitta Nosh t-shirt, donated to him by one of Eddie's groupies. He saw the heap of bedsheets on the floor and grinned, he shook his head and left the room as it was to make breakfast.

"Do you like becon and eggs?" he cried, starting up the stove.

[Sansa]

Closing the phone and slipping it back into her pocket, Sansa nodded. Then she got up and walked to the kitchen to talk to Rod, as he couldn't possibly have seen her nod her head. "Yes, that sounds lovely."

Leaning against the 'fridge, she added, "I got the address, finally, so I can actually make it back to Gwen's place to pick up my things before I have to catch the train."