[PAST SCENE] The First Meeting | Set June 2007
Lachlan looked up the sign for the Karaoke club as he finished off his cigarette. He sniggered, throwing it onto the ground and stubbing it out with his toe. "Aye, The Blue Room. Very original," he murmured to himself, pushing the doors open and entering the noisy crowd. He looked around for any familiar faces, which was rather pointless, considering he hardly knew anyone, and the only familiar person was back at the apartment 'making himself beautiful'. Lachlan had gotten fed up and left before Patrick. It wasn't an uncommon scene, and it certainly wasn't uncommon for Pat to turn up an hour or so late to any function. Over the years apart, Lachlan had just forgotten how infuriating Pat could be with his anal beauty routines.
Lachlan gave up looking for anyone, and weaved his way through the crowd to the bar. He pulled himself up onto one of the stools and smiled at the barmaid as she asked his order. "Scotch and Coke, cheers," he said with a wink and turned on his stool to go back to slowly scanning the crowd. Somewhere in the distance, a song started and an inevitably awful Karaoke singer began belting out 'Hey Jude' and Lachlan winced. "Aye, shite," he moaned, barely resisting the urged to stick his fingers in his ears.
Tara beelined for the bar, frankly more than happy to have left the Karaoke in the other room. She was enjoying being out, she really was, but it was taxing on her, considering ever since she'd been discharged from hospital, she had been in bed right up until her friend picked her up for this night out. She was feeling okay, but the resounding base of the Karaoke machine was starting to do her head in and a visit to the bar to get a - goddamnit - Diet Coke was actually really welcomed.
She stood at the bar, leaning on her elbows and waiting to be served. She glanced at the person standing next to her and her eyes widened slightly when she saw it was actually a bloody hot young lad. She abruptly looked back ahead of her and then stole another peek at him out of the corner of her eye. Bugger me. Married, taken, or gay? she wondered. But more importantly, could she discreetly lean back for a view of the arse without him noticing? She cleared her throat and threw him a casual smile. "Hiya," she offered. "I don't think I have ever heard anyone murder a Beatles song worse than that bloke back there."
Lachlan turned at the bright voice beside him. The first thing he noticed was that the girl was stunning. She had big brown eyes and smile to die for; clearly the sign of a bubbly personality. The next thing he noticed was her accent, meaning this could only be Patto's elusive Tara Brennan that he’d mentioned numerous times since Lachlan arrived in America. He trawled his mind, trying to remember if Pat had happened to mention Tara Brennan was hot, but then like a fool realised Pat wasn't exactly going to impart such specific sentiments, considering she was female. "Aye, I was just thinking the same thing myself," he laughed, pulling out his wallet. "Here, let me. What would you like?"
"You're Scottish!" Tara gasped, smacking him lightly in the arm.
Lachlan laughed, glancing down in amusement at the place she’d just smacked him. "Aye, and you're Irish, Tara Brennan." He held out his hand with a smile. "Lachlan Campbell. My friends call me be Lachie."
Tara gave his hand a brief shake and then held her hands up. "Okay, okay, okay. We're backing up a wee bitty here! Who are you, how do you know me, and what part of Scotland are you from?"
Lachlan put his own hands up. "Sorry! I didnae mean to push the wrong buttons. Let me buy you a drink and then I'll answer anything you want to know."
Tara sat down on the stool next to him and eyed him warily. "Just a Diet Coke, thanks." She analysed him for a moment, her eyes slightly suspicious. "My first three questions still stand, in that case."
Lachlan looked surprised. "Are you sure? My shout. You can have anything you like." She was still giving him the evil eye and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Damn, he might've expected this sort of reception if he'd grabbed her arse or something. She obviously had no clue who he was, and that meant Pat hadn't told her. Lachlan did know from Pat in passing that Tara had been in hospital and that was why she wasn't on duty at PPTH, but other than her nationality, he knew nothing more of her. And up until now, he hadn't given her much thought beyond Pat mentioning her has his close friend here.
Tara raised an eyebrow. "You know who I am but don't know why I'm ordering a Diet Coke?" she asked, clearly surprised. The fact she’d passed out during her first ever cancer surgery had been all over the hospital, most trying to cut her down by saying she was too young and incompetent to cope with the residency in Oncology. No one knew at that point that she was actually in the dangerous realm Diabetic Ketoacidosis and ended up in a coma the following day. Nevertheless, her name had spread through PPTH by the time she landed in the ICU comatose, so if he had nothing to do with work, who the hell was this bloke? He might be hot, but she wasn't opposed to giving him a good slap if he wasn't straight with her.
Lachlan ran his hand through his hair and it came to rest at the back of his head as he looked at her in bewilderment. His wallet was still sitting in his other hand. He looked at the bartender and quickly ordered a Diet Coke before swivelling back around to give her his full attention, wondering why women didn’t come with instruction manuals. "I'm Pat's best friend. I have been for fifteen years. I just landed a job at Princeton Plainsboro in Haematology, so I havenae even been in the country a week yet. I only know you because Pat mentioned his pal was Irish. I heard your accent and put two and two together. I apologise profusely that we have gotten off on the wrong foot here. It wasnae my intention to piss you off."
At the mention of Pat, Tara grinned at him. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" she asked, shaking her head. "I've been out of the loop," she explained, tracing a looping pattern in the air with her fingers. "I did know Pat’s best friend was Scottish, but he hadn’t mention you were coming here, so my apologies for that. I'm a few cards short of a pack at the moment. I've been sick. Just got myself diagnosed with Diabetes, so yeah, evil Diet Coke for me. I didn't mean to offend you with that. Trust me, the stuff is just as a offensive to me, also!" She accepted her drink off the barman and held it up. "Still, I very much appreciate it, so cheers to you, Lachie Campbell," she said, smiling.
Lachlan picked up his own glass and tapped it against Tara's. "Cheers, love," he said with a smile. “To be fair, Pat didnae know. I got the job and decided to just turn up and surprise him. It was all a very sudden process. And I'm sorry about your diagnosis. That must be such a drag. What are you missing the most on your new diet?"
"Sugar," Tara stated with a succinct shrug. "Anything and everything sugar. Before I got sick, I was a sugar junkie. This is my payback, I believe." She held up her Diet Coke can with a screwing of her nose. "And the even weirder thing is, not all that long ago, my friend in Diagnostics were dealing with a case where a lassie turned out to have Aspartame Toxicity and I swore blindly that I would never drink diet drinks and teased Chase about it. Again, I am being punished," she laughed.
She tilted her head, smiling at him. "So, Dr Lachie. Which part of Scotland, honey?"
Lachlan chuckled at her regaling about all things sugar. "I've never had much of a sweet tooth, but aye, there are other vices I certainly would struggle to forgo." He cleared his throat. "I was born and bred and Edinburgh. It will always be home, and luckily I got to go to med school at Edinburgh University. Hailing down to Filthy McNasties on Rose Street after a day on the books," he said with a laugh. "Ahh, those were the days. Now I'm hanging out in swanky Karaoke bars with pretty lassies. Times change."
"Really?" Tara asked enthusiastically. "I had my eighteenth in Edinburgh! I love that city. It's always held a wee spot in my heart. Where abouts did you live?" She sipped her cola and watched him with interest. He was dressed casually, but fashionably with rather delicious hip-hugging jeans. No outward signs of being gay, but these days, so that was nothing to go on. A quick glance at his left hand told her was either not married or married with an aversion to rings. No tanline where a ring might be, so he hadn't taken it off to trawl for a fling. He was Patrick's best friend, so that was points already.
"Oh, aye?" Lachlan asked with a keen smile. "Which venue hosted your big one-eight? I had my own at The Witchery, not that I remember all that much about it. Pat and a couple of my other buddies spent the night spiking my drinks with Absinthe. I was passed out cold before we hit eleven pm," he laughed, shaking his head fondly at the good old days. "As for my old stamping ground, I lived in Morningside. What part of Ireland are you from?"
"The Tower ," Tara replied of her birthday. "It was a big family shindig, not holds barred. I share my birthday with my Ma and Pa's wedding anniversary. I often get accused of arriving that day to stop my parents shagging on their fifth year anniversary!" she giggled. "I have an oddball family. You just need to ask Chase about that. He met my parents when I was in hospital and as soon as they heard he was single, they practically had me married off to him. But I love my parents. They just mean well. I’m an only child, so they want to see me happy. I come from Larne, County Durham. Maybe it's something in the water there?"
"And how does that explain Pat?" Lachlan sniggered, shaking his head.
Tara blew her hair out of her eyes. "Pat generally makes everything interesting," she chuckled.
Lachlan laughed. "Aye, that he does, love. That he does. He and I can tolerate each other, and if we cannae, we'll have it out. That's how we've always been. Even field with everything. It's probably why we're such good pals."
A colleague from PPTH, Charlie, came over and joined their conversation. She winced and looked at Tara and Lachlan apologetically. "I hope this isn't going to be the trend all night" she said indicating the stage with a grimace.
"Ha!" Tara laughed dryly. "They are sucking in all epic proportions. Not that I am saying I could do better, but usually there is one or two gems in a club full of Karaoke flops. This place doesn't seem to have lucked out in that capacity. The ER is going to be overrun with bleeding eardrums tonight."
Lachlan glanced with between them. "Aye," he agreed simply and then finished off his drink. "Can I have a straight coke please?" he ordered. He was on-call and never had plans to have more than one Scotch.
Tara waved the barman back with a smile. "He's having a Diet Coke," she insisted, changing Lachlan's order for a laugh. She winked at the Scotsman. "If you want to be charming, you can suffer in silence with me!"
Lachlan laughed at Tara's antics. "Aye, okay," he agreed freely. "At least I'll save my teeth if I hang out with you more. Do you have a quick fix for nicotine addiction?"
"Just flop them out and have a suck, honey. I have no aversion to smokes, just so long as you don't make me have them," Tara offered with a grin, then smacked her forehead. "Oh man, I just realised what a field day Pat would've had with my first statement!"
"Fucking aye, love! I think that's one of his pick-up lines, actually!" Lachlan laughed, pulling his smokes out. "Charlie, do you mind?" He held them up.
Charlie shook her head and accepted one herself as he offered them. Tara finished her drink and smiled at them both. "I'm just going to nip outside for a wee bit of fresh air. I'll be back in a few!"
Lachlan immediately jumped to his feet also. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, taking her elbow. "Are you feeling poorly? Can I get you anything?"
Tara laughed, placing her hand over his on her below and giving it a pat. "I'm perfectly fine, honey. Madonna over there is just doing my head in!" she replied. "If I'm not back in ten, you can send out the search teams." She winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Lachlan silently watched Tara disappear into the crowd, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling. He looked back to Charlie with a smile, blowing the smoke out and tapping his cigarette on the side of the ashtray as they resumed their conversation, sorry his chat with Tara had been interrupted.
* * * * *
It had barely gone ten minutes before Lachlan decided to head outside to make sure Tara was okay. He hoped she hadn't been making a polite excuse out of the conversation or to make a hasty exit home. He'd done similar things like that in the past himself, but Tara didn't seem the sort. He found her sitting on the bottom step of a block of apartments next door to the club, shiny red mobile phone in hand as she typed in something on the keypad with her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth.
Lachlan stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and slowly walked up to her. "Are you calling a cab for a sneaky exit? The least you can do is let me share it with you after subjecting me to that awful bollocks that is diet soda."
Tara looked up, surprised but pleased at the sudden company. She held up her phone. "What this?" she asked. "No, no. I'm abusing your best friend via text message and threatening him with an action film marathon if he doesn't get his prissy butt here soon."
Lachlan gave a low whistle. "Actions films. That will definitely sting. It could backfire on you when he whines his way through every single film and then throws a hissy fit when his patience wear thin," he said jokingly and sat down beside her on the step. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, love? If you want to go home, I dinnae mind jumping in a cab with you and making sure you get back okay. I know it's not been too long since you were laid up."
"Pfft," Tara scoffed, waving her hand at him. "I'm not ready to call it a night yet. I'll give you a good kick up the arse if you fuss. I've had far too much of that lately and I'm going nutty over it." She hit the send button as she finished the text and slipped her phone back into her pocket.
"So, gay, married, or taken?" she asked boredly, already kind of deciding he was gay because he was such good friends with Pat. "Bearing in mind the last time I asked that question, I got 'Bisexual' as the answer, was lulled into a false sense of security before I discovered he was sleeping with my boss!" she laughed.
Lachlan gave her an amused smile. "Straight and single," he replied without hesitation. "No matter how much he has tried, Pat's never been able to turn me."
Realising her faux pas, Tara immediately blushed. "Oh," she replied and then gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. You lot are just a rare endangered species these days."
"But thankfully not bred in captivity," Lachlan chuckled. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then smiled. "How can a sweet lassie like you be so concerned about lack of romantic involvement? I cannae buy for a second you dinnae have lads desperate for your attentions."
Tara barked out a sharp laugh. "Ah-huh. Yeah. So many attentions that I haven't had a shag in over six months. I'm bowled over by those attentions," she snorted. "It doesn't help that I'm basically really ambitious and a workaholic. Blokes don't like to compete with my career and I don't give a fuck about that. They like me as I am, or tough shit. But like I said, good single, not-gay guys are few and far between, it seems."
"I'm sorry," Lachlan replied, as if his apology would make up for a lack of available straight guys in her territory. He looked at her with a smile. "So, you feeling up to coming back inside and dancing with an endangered species?"
Tara couldn't help but laugh at that. "I think I can manage that." She held her hand up in the air. "Come on, Mr Chivalrous. Give a girl a hand up, will you? Don't make me pull the diabetic card."
Lachlan stood up, brushing his jeans off and then took her hand, giving her a firm tug up with a laugh. Tara hadn't been ready for the tug so quickly and she only managed to trip over her own feet, going stumbling into his arms with a shriek. "Oh fuck!" she cursed, grabbing at him to remain upright and not break her ankle on a twisted high-heel.
"Shit!" Lachlan cried, catching her with ease. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm sorry about that," he apologised, keeping a hold on her arms while she righted herself. "Are you okay?"
Tara was slightly breathless from the shock of nearly making yet another dickhead of herself with an audience. She was still smarting from the pass out and puke in front of an OR full of qualified surgeons. She looked up at him, her face red from embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm good," she insisted, wetting her lips. "Looks like I've fallen for you," she joked to try and hide the mortification.
Lachlan searched her eyes with a small nod. There was an awkward silence between them briefly, but she didn't break eye contact, despite her evident and unnecessary embarrassment. Without thinking, he suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips against hers in an unexpected kiss.
Tara squeaked in surprise, but did nothing to pull back at first. Instead, her hand went to the nape of his neck and she was kissing him back, it lingering as the seconds ticked over. But all too soon, her rationality kicked back in and she pulled abruptly away from him, stepping back and blinking in surprise. "I, uh..." she mumbled awkwardly, taking a few slow steps away from him, “Yeah, dancing and bad singing and shit," she finished and then spun around, bolting back into the club with the doors swinging shut behind her.
Lachlan gave up looking for anyone, and weaved his way through the crowd to the bar. He pulled himself up onto one of the stools and smiled at the barmaid as she asked his order. "Scotch and Coke, cheers," he said with a wink and turned on his stool to go back to slowly scanning the crowd. Somewhere in the distance, a song started and an inevitably awful Karaoke singer began belting out 'Hey Jude' and Lachlan winced. "Aye, shite," he moaned, barely resisting the urged to stick his fingers in his ears.
Tara beelined for the bar, frankly more than happy to have left the Karaoke in the other room. She was enjoying being out, she really was, but it was taxing on her, considering ever since she'd been discharged from hospital, she had been in bed right up until her friend picked her up for this night out. She was feeling okay, but the resounding base of the Karaoke machine was starting to do her head in and a visit to the bar to get a - goddamnit - Diet Coke was actually really welcomed.
She stood at the bar, leaning on her elbows and waiting to be served. She glanced at the person standing next to her and her eyes widened slightly when she saw it was actually a bloody hot young lad. She abruptly looked back ahead of her and then stole another peek at him out of the corner of her eye. Bugger me. Married, taken, or gay? she wondered. But more importantly, could she discreetly lean back for a view of the arse without him noticing? She cleared her throat and threw him a casual smile. "Hiya," she offered. "I don't think I have ever heard anyone murder a Beatles song worse than that bloke back there."
Lachlan turned at the bright voice beside him. The first thing he noticed was that the girl was stunning. She had big brown eyes and smile to die for; clearly the sign of a bubbly personality. The next thing he noticed was her accent, meaning this could only be Patto's elusive Tara Brennan that he’d mentioned numerous times since Lachlan arrived in America. He trawled his mind, trying to remember if Pat had happened to mention Tara Brennan was hot, but then like a fool realised Pat wasn't exactly going to impart such specific sentiments, considering she was female. "Aye, I was just thinking the same thing myself," he laughed, pulling out his wallet. "Here, let me. What would you like?"
"You're Scottish!" Tara gasped, smacking him lightly in the arm.
Lachlan laughed, glancing down in amusement at the place she’d just smacked him. "Aye, and you're Irish, Tara Brennan." He held out his hand with a smile. "Lachlan Campbell. My friends call me be Lachie."
Tara gave his hand a brief shake and then held her hands up. "Okay, okay, okay. We're backing up a wee bitty here! Who are you, how do you know me, and what part of Scotland are you from?"
Lachlan put his own hands up. "Sorry! I didnae mean to push the wrong buttons. Let me buy you a drink and then I'll answer anything you want to know."
Tara sat down on the stool next to him and eyed him warily. "Just a Diet Coke, thanks." She analysed him for a moment, her eyes slightly suspicious. "My first three questions still stand, in that case."
Lachlan looked surprised. "Are you sure? My shout. You can have anything you like." She was still giving him the evil eye and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Damn, he might've expected this sort of reception if he'd grabbed her arse or something. She obviously had no clue who he was, and that meant Pat hadn't told her. Lachlan did know from Pat in passing that Tara had been in hospital and that was why she wasn't on duty at PPTH, but other than her nationality, he knew nothing more of her. And up until now, he hadn't given her much thought beyond Pat mentioning her has his close friend here.
Tara raised an eyebrow. "You know who I am but don't know why I'm ordering a Diet Coke?" she asked, clearly surprised. The fact she’d passed out during her first ever cancer surgery had been all over the hospital, most trying to cut her down by saying she was too young and incompetent to cope with the residency in Oncology. No one knew at that point that she was actually in the dangerous realm Diabetic Ketoacidosis and ended up in a coma the following day. Nevertheless, her name had spread through PPTH by the time she landed in the ICU comatose, so if he had nothing to do with work, who the hell was this bloke? He might be hot, but she wasn't opposed to giving him a good slap if he wasn't straight with her.
Lachlan ran his hand through his hair and it came to rest at the back of his head as he looked at her in bewilderment. His wallet was still sitting in his other hand. He looked at the bartender and quickly ordered a Diet Coke before swivelling back around to give her his full attention, wondering why women didn’t come with instruction manuals. "I'm Pat's best friend. I have been for fifteen years. I just landed a job at Princeton Plainsboro in Haematology, so I havenae even been in the country a week yet. I only know you because Pat mentioned his pal was Irish. I heard your accent and put two and two together. I apologise profusely that we have gotten off on the wrong foot here. It wasnae my intention to piss you off."
At the mention of Pat, Tara grinned at him. "Well, why didn't you just say so?" she asked, shaking her head. "I've been out of the loop," she explained, tracing a looping pattern in the air with her fingers. "I did know Pat’s best friend was Scottish, but he hadn’t mention you were coming here, so my apologies for that. I'm a few cards short of a pack at the moment. I've been sick. Just got myself diagnosed with Diabetes, so yeah, evil Diet Coke for me. I didn't mean to offend you with that. Trust me, the stuff is just as a offensive to me, also!" She accepted her drink off the barman and held it up. "Still, I very much appreciate it, so cheers to you, Lachie Campbell," she said, smiling.
Lachlan picked up his own glass and tapped it against Tara's. "Cheers, love," he said with a smile. “To be fair, Pat didnae know. I got the job and decided to just turn up and surprise him. It was all a very sudden process. And I'm sorry about your diagnosis. That must be such a drag. What are you missing the most on your new diet?"
"Sugar," Tara stated with a succinct shrug. "Anything and everything sugar. Before I got sick, I was a sugar junkie. This is my payback, I believe." She held up her Diet Coke can with a screwing of her nose. "And the even weirder thing is, not all that long ago, my friend in Diagnostics were dealing with a case where a lassie turned out to have Aspartame Toxicity and I swore blindly that I would never drink diet drinks and teased Chase about it. Again, I am being punished," she laughed.
She tilted her head, smiling at him. "So, Dr Lachie. Which part of Scotland, honey?"
Lachlan chuckled at her regaling about all things sugar. "I've never had much of a sweet tooth, but aye, there are other vices I certainly would struggle to forgo." He cleared his throat. "I was born and bred and Edinburgh. It will always be home, and luckily I got to go to med school at Edinburgh University. Hailing down to Filthy McNasties on Rose Street after a day on the books," he said with a laugh. "Ahh, those were the days. Now I'm hanging out in swanky Karaoke bars with pretty lassies. Times change."
"Really?" Tara asked enthusiastically. "I had my eighteenth in Edinburgh! I love that city. It's always held a wee spot in my heart. Where abouts did you live?" She sipped her cola and watched him with interest. He was dressed casually, but fashionably with rather delicious hip-hugging jeans. No outward signs of being gay, but these days, so that was nothing to go on. A quick glance at his left hand told her was either not married or married with an aversion to rings. No tanline where a ring might be, so he hadn't taken it off to trawl for a fling. He was Patrick's best friend, so that was points already.
"Oh, aye?" Lachlan asked with a keen smile. "Which venue hosted your big one-eight? I had my own at The Witchery, not that I remember all that much about it. Pat and a couple of my other buddies spent the night spiking my drinks with Absinthe. I was passed out cold before we hit eleven pm," he laughed, shaking his head fondly at the good old days. "As for my old stamping ground, I lived in Morningside. What part of Ireland are you from?"
"The Tower ," Tara replied of her birthday. "It was a big family shindig, not holds barred. I share my birthday with my Ma and Pa's wedding anniversary. I often get accused of arriving that day to stop my parents shagging on their fifth year anniversary!" she giggled. "I have an oddball family. You just need to ask Chase about that. He met my parents when I was in hospital and as soon as they heard he was single, they practically had me married off to him. But I love my parents. They just mean well. I’m an only child, so they want to see me happy. I come from Larne, County Durham. Maybe it's something in the water there?"
"And how does that explain Pat?" Lachlan sniggered, shaking his head.
Tara blew her hair out of her eyes. "Pat generally makes everything interesting," she chuckled.
Lachlan laughed. "Aye, that he does, love. That he does. He and I can tolerate each other, and if we cannae, we'll have it out. That's how we've always been. Even field with everything. It's probably why we're such good pals."
A colleague from PPTH, Charlie, came over and joined their conversation. She winced and looked at Tara and Lachlan apologetically. "I hope this isn't going to be the trend all night" she said indicating the stage with a grimace.
"Ha!" Tara laughed dryly. "They are sucking in all epic proportions. Not that I am saying I could do better, but usually there is one or two gems in a club full of Karaoke flops. This place doesn't seem to have lucked out in that capacity. The ER is going to be overrun with bleeding eardrums tonight."
Lachlan glanced with between them. "Aye," he agreed simply and then finished off his drink. "Can I have a straight coke please?" he ordered. He was on-call and never had plans to have more than one Scotch.
Tara waved the barman back with a smile. "He's having a Diet Coke," she insisted, changing Lachlan's order for a laugh. She winked at the Scotsman. "If you want to be charming, you can suffer in silence with me!"
Lachlan laughed at Tara's antics. "Aye, okay," he agreed freely. "At least I'll save my teeth if I hang out with you more. Do you have a quick fix for nicotine addiction?"
"Just flop them out and have a suck, honey. I have no aversion to smokes, just so long as you don't make me have them," Tara offered with a grin, then smacked her forehead. "Oh man, I just realised what a field day Pat would've had with my first statement!"
"Fucking aye, love! I think that's one of his pick-up lines, actually!" Lachlan laughed, pulling his smokes out. "Charlie, do you mind?" He held them up.
Charlie shook her head and accepted one herself as he offered them. Tara finished her drink and smiled at them both. "I'm just going to nip outside for a wee bit of fresh air. I'll be back in a few!"
Lachlan immediately jumped to his feet also. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, taking her elbow. "Are you feeling poorly? Can I get you anything?"
Tara laughed, placing her hand over his on her below and giving it a pat. "I'm perfectly fine, honey. Madonna over there is just doing my head in!" she replied. "If I'm not back in ten, you can send out the search teams." She winked and disappeared into the crowd.
Lachlan silently watched Tara disappear into the crowd, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling. He looked back to Charlie with a smile, blowing the smoke out and tapping his cigarette on the side of the ashtray as they resumed their conversation, sorry his chat with Tara had been interrupted.
* * * * *
It had barely gone ten minutes before Lachlan decided to head outside to make sure Tara was okay. He hoped she hadn't been making a polite excuse out of the conversation or to make a hasty exit home. He'd done similar things like that in the past himself, but Tara didn't seem the sort. He found her sitting on the bottom step of a block of apartments next door to the club, shiny red mobile phone in hand as she typed in something on the keypad with her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth.
Lachlan stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and slowly walked up to her. "Are you calling a cab for a sneaky exit? The least you can do is let me share it with you after subjecting me to that awful bollocks that is diet soda."
Tara looked up, surprised but pleased at the sudden company. She held up her phone. "What this?" she asked. "No, no. I'm abusing your best friend via text message and threatening him with an action film marathon if he doesn't get his prissy butt here soon."
Lachlan gave a low whistle. "Actions films. That will definitely sting. It could backfire on you when he whines his way through every single film and then throws a hissy fit when his patience wear thin," he said jokingly and sat down beside her on the step. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, love? If you want to go home, I dinnae mind jumping in a cab with you and making sure you get back okay. I know it's not been too long since you were laid up."
"Pfft," Tara scoffed, waving her hand at him. "I'm not ready to call it a night yet. I'll give you a good kick up the arse if you fuss. I've had far too much of that lately and I'm going nutty over it." She hit the send button as she finished the text and slipped her phone back into her pocket.
"So, gay, married, or taken?" she asked boredly, already kind of deciding he was gay because he was such good friends with Pat. "Bearing in mind the last time I asked that question, I got 'Bisexual' as the answer, was lulled into a false sense of security before I discovered he was sleeping with my boss!" she laughed.
Lachlan gave her an amused smile. "Straight and single," he replied without hesitation. "No matter how much he has tried, Pat's never been able to turn me."
Realising her faux pas, Tara immediately blushed. "Oh," she replied and then gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. You lot are just a rare endangered species these days."
"But thankfully not bred in captivity," Lachlan chuckled. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment and then smiled. "How can a sweet lassie like you be so concerned about lack of romantic involvement? I cannae buy for a second you dinnae have lads desperate for your attentions."
Tara barked out a sharp laugh. "Ah-huh. Yeah. So many attentions that I haven't had a shag in over six months. I'm bowled over by those attentions," she snorted. "It doesn't help that I'm basically really ambitious and a workaholic. Blokes don't like to compete with my career and I don't give a fuck about that. They like me as I am, or tough shit. But like I said, good single, not-gay guys are few and far between, it seems."
"I'm sorry," Lachlan replied, as if his apology would make up for a lack of available straight guys in her territory. He looked at her with a smile. "So, you feeling up to coming back inside and dancing with an endangered species?"
Tara couldn't help but laugh at that. "I think I can manage that." She held her hand up in the air. "Come on, Mr Chivalrous. Give a girl a hand up, will you? Don't make me pull the diabetic card."
Lachlan stood up, brushing his jeans off and then took her hand, giving her a firm tug up with a laugh. Tara hadn't been ready for the tug so quickly and she only managed to trip over her own feet, going stumbling into his arms with a shriek. "Oh fuck!" she cursed, grabbing at him to remain upright and not break her ankle on a twisted high-heel.
"Shit!" Lachlan cried, catching her with ease. "It's okay. I've got you. I'm sorry about that," he apologised, keeping a hold on her arms while she righted herself. "Are you okay?"
Tara was slightly breathless from the shock of nearly making yet another dickhead of herself with an audience. She was still smarting from the pass out and puke in front of an OR full of qualified surgeons. She looked up at him, her face red from embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm good," she insisted, wetting her lips. "Looks like I've fallen for you," she joked to try and hide the mortification.
Lachlan searched her eyes with a small nod. There was an awkward silence between them briefly, but she didn't break eye contact, despite her evident and unnecessary embarrassment. Without thinking, he suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips against hers in an unexpected kiss.
Tara squeaked in surprise, but did nothing to pull back at first. Instead, her hand went to the nape of his neck and she was kissing him back, it lingering as the seconds ticked over. But all too soon, her rationality kicked back in and she pulled abruptly away from him, stepping back and blinking in surprise. "I, uh..." she mumbled awkwardly, taking a few slow steps away from him, “Yeah, dancing and bad singing and shit," she finished and then spun around, bolting back into the club with the doors swinging shut behind her.