Even from outside the gargoyle the beat could be heard, it shook the door with each thump, almost out of the frame.

Past the door the sound reverberated through the entirety of the little pub, now the accompanying piano finally audible.

ThumpthumpCLAPthumpthumpCLAPthumpthumpCLAP

Off near the piano in the pub, a burly bearded broom gang member with a raspy deep voice had the attention of the whole pub, thumping along with the crowd as a very familiar face at the piano played him in.

“Buddy you're an old man poor man
Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day
You got mud on your face..”

He pointed to the crowd.

“YOU BIG DISGRACE”

“Somebody better put you back into your place!”

“WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

“Sing it lads!”

“WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

While the piano didn't see as much use as it once did (or so she'd been told), it wasn't rare for something to get played when the roaring crew of drunk Welsh expats rolled in after a Catapults game. So Maggie didn't think anything of it when she pushed through the door after her post-game detour for cigarettes and fresh air.

She hopped onto a bar seat and greeted the bartender-cum-landlord, still riding that her-team-won-and-also-she's-a-wee-bit-drunk high. "Evening, Mrs Bell! Hear yer Cats won?" Her voice was nearly drowned out by the crowd, which was small, but... so was the pub. The dozens of mugs that decorated the ceiling clinked together with every thump, and each clap seemed that much closer to breaking the sound barrier.

"Welcome home, Maighread." Maeve responded with a grin and fluttered the end of her Christmas-coloured club scarf.

“WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!”

The medic swivelled around in her seat to get a better look at the show. "Who's on?" Powys was leading, that much was obvious (and expected), but there were only so many who'd play well enough to avoid getting booed off the bench. "Wiegold? I cannae see crap from here."

Maeve smiled as she began to pull one of the taps. It was a little knowing, but Maggie was too distracted by trying to get a peek to notice. "Your friend, the polite one."

"None o' ma pals're 'polite'," she scoffed.

"You're confusing them with yourself. He's one of your newer ones."

Maggie joined in with the final roar of “WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!” before the pub burst out into cheers, red and neon green scarves tossed into the air. It was then that she finally caught a glimpse of the pianist, a young man who was getting a hearty and potentially bruising clap on the back from Powys's gigantic hand.

His neat dress shirt and perfect posture were so out of place that he almost looked like he belonged in another country, let alone a nicer bar.

She grinned.

Maeve pushed two beers across the countertop. "He's due for a refill."

Maggie was already off her stool, both glasses in hand. She wound her way through the crowd and once she reached the piano—and Alec—she held one of them out and nudged his ribs with her knee. "Shove over an' give a lass a seat, will ye?"

Alec looked back over his shoulder, hair still neat but not quite Alec neat, looking oddly relaxed and pleased despite how out of place he was in this environment. "Took you long enough," he smiled. She looked like she'd had a few, and she smelled like an ashtray, but then again that was true for everyone in this bar. Obligingly, he scooted over on his seat to give her room and reached for his beer to take the final sip of it.

Like she’d had a few? This was easily the most at-ease Maggie had seen Alec. She couldn’t keep herself from giving him a once-over. “Look at ye.” She could feel a smile—fuck off, he was happy and halfway to casual, and he was playing piano unannounced in her pub: that earned a smile—but deftly covered and was able to turn it into a smirk before it let him get any ideas.

"I'm wantin' tae ken just how long ye've been here an' what the fuck ye're doin' here an' I dinnae ken which yin I'm wantin' tae ken first." Yes, she'd had... a few. Let her acclimatize to this New Alec first, please. He wasn't even wearing his suit jacket. This was a big deal.

She took a sip of her beer, and for good measure, a sip of the beer in her other hand. Transport tax. Then she handed it over.

Alec seemed mildly surprised when she handed over the beer, he'd honestly assumed she was just double fisting. Taking it with thanks, he set aside his now empty beer and took a sip of the new one. "I'm listening to the medic's advice? There's this one that was really persistent and stubborn about hobbies and something about relaxing." He shifted a bit more to give her space on the piano bench and encourage her to take a seat. "You did take a lot longer to get here than I thought."

Maggie plunked down beside him. "Didn't realize I was expected." The smirk gained a certain self-satisfied quality because fucking right, someone took her advice! "It work? 'Cos ye're at a bar in fuckin' Glasgow on a worknight, sleeves up an' everythin'." She looked him dead in the eye and held a finger over a key. Threateningly. She can play piano too, you know. Just watch.

Oh he remembered her 'playing' and reached over to nab her hand to spare the whole pub from that ear bleed. "We got the book to the printers and I wanted to test out the piano music a convenient owl brought." And maybe it was his version of a thank you.

She tried (without success) to smash the keys before her hand was pulled away, but to no avail. Next time, Urquhart, she'll have her song. (Then she plucked it back to her side because it's, uh, let's, just. It didn't feel warm. Neither did her cheeks. Fuck you.)

"Slàinte! Ye got the thing fuckin' done!" Or whatever! She wasn't sure how the book-editing industry worked! Either way, she held out her beer for the customary clink-and-drink. Others around them, thinking she was cheersing the Catapults' win, took up the call, and a chorus of Slàinte! and Lechyd da! filled the pub. Much beer was spilled.

"I did!" Alec was smiling despite himself as he clinked his beer against hers. There was still a lot more to do to promote it but...yeah, he got his first book to the printers. First big project for Da was solidified on ink and paper and it felt good. Or maybe that was the beer, either way he deserved this evening to celebrate right?

Using her jumper's sleeve to wipe the beer off the side of her glass, she leaned to the side all casual-like so she could 'accidentally' press on a couple keys with her elbow. Oh, oh dear. Oops. "Dinnae have a piano at the castle? I'd've thought ye'd have half a dozen scattered about. One in each sitting room. Fuck, I bet ye kip on a grand piano."

Alec gave her a Look for the 'accidental' elbow playing but instead took a larger swig from his glass before putting it down atop the piano. "Well I decided to kip on a less grand piano. Besides, home didn't fit the atmosphere for this," he pointed at the Queen piano arrangement book she'd sent him. "You know, you should've bookmarked your favourite one in this."

"Papa Urq isn't mental for Queen? Never would have guessed." She set her beer beside Alec's so she could flip through the book, but not before her other hand was firmly pressed on the keys in front of him. She pretended not to notice. "Dinnae ken, but..." she stopped on Don't Stop Me Now. "They used tae play this yin–" a free finger tapped on the only key it could reach to join her cacophonous symphony "–at hockey. S'braw."

A buzzed Alec tried to swat away her hands from his precious piano keys, lest the broom gang members around thought it was him making the cacophonous sound. "But no touching the piano. And if you do refrain, I won't revoke your free requests."

The threat of losing piano jockey privileges was enough for Maggie to put her hands in the air. "Never touched a piano in my life, sir, dinnae ken where ye got that idea." She obediently picked her beer back up and made a show of holding it between both hands. "See? Cannae poke a thing. Ne'er hae, ne'er wull." Then she took a long drink and looked at him, pointedly and unflinchingly, over the top of the glass the entire time, the paragon of innocence.

Alec raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and shook his head. Innocent, merlin's ass. Because he needed to be in the middle of the bench for this, he scooted over, trying to nudge Maggie off to the side to give him a little room. Luckily he was drunk or he would've noted how close they were, as it was he was too focused on getting a little room to play. "Innocent as a lamb as always. Come on, how am I going to play if I can't reach all the keys?"

She pushed him in the side with an elbow when he tried to move her the first time, stubbornly replying "Wi' magic," but conceded when the second threat of the evening was made. (Everything was a threat. Nothing was sacred, nothing was safe.) She shuffled to the edge.

One of them was aware of the close contact; that person also wasn't about to change it, either. In fact, uh. "Hauld yer horses." She put her beer down so she could pull her leather jacket off and toss it over the back of the piano. "Swelterin' in here with the fuckin' sweaty Cats fans." In her defense, the bar was packed, and the broom gang boys were fairly sticky.

With her jumper smoothed out and her drink back in her possession, she motioned for Alec to begin before ensuring both hands were obediently back the glass. "Serenade me, Alexander. Tell us how unstoppable ye are."

A more sober Alec would argue against the word choice there, this was hardly serenading even if he was playing music for her technically under her window since she lived upstairs...

Luckily he'd tried this one out before coming. It'd still be sight reading but at least it wasn't the first time. He readjusted the book, rolled up his sleeves a bit more, and sat up straighter. One last sip of beer before setting it aside and making a face at Maggie as he launched into the first few notes of the song.

Four minutes was a long time to sit still and not offer Alec disparaging comments on his attitude or lifestyle. Maggie tried to focus on his hands because that seemed appropriate during a piano performance, but she'd had more than a few and her mind began to wander to places that super totally didn't exist and thoughts she'd super totally never had like how Alec had... really nice hands and forearms well fuck, so she turned her attention to the bar behind him.

The ever-present chatter had turned down a decibel or three so as not to disturb the new pianist in his natural habitat. Powys gave her a shrug to indicate that he didn't know the words then a thumbs-up to indicate that the song was nevertheless a good choice.

It began to pick up and she looked back to the piano, where Alec seemed... a wee bit different. He was bouncing along a little as he played, face more expressive than she thought she'd ever seen before, going from a big smile to concentration and back. It was endearing, but whatever it was, it wasn't cute. Not at all. Especially not when he went all tight-lipped and whatever — that was the worst. Just godawful.

She was a supporter of the arts, alright? An established fan of her friends' musical endeavours. If they were happy and she got to listen, she was happy. That was it. He was obviously having a good time. And he was relaxing after a long month. She'd done her job! She hid her smile in her beer.

When Alec needed to reach the lower keys halfway through, the Roadblock Named MacDougal didn't clue in (or was still stubbornly refusing to move).

Alec was too into it to try and nudge her away, so he half stood up from the bench, leaning across her to reach the farther keys. At this point it was just easier to stay half standing, and half in front of Maggie, as his fingers danced across the keys, playing out the rest of the song while he hummed along to it. As he hit the end and the tempo slowed, he slowly sat back down until those last few quiet notes had him fully back on the bench.

Maggie found her beer fascinating. So fascinating that it was up to her lips but not being drunk for, oh, half of the song? She was looking into it, though, that was a thing. (The carbonation was really something else. And the colour! Wow, what a... yellowy-gold!)

Once done, the pub erupted into hearty applause. Sure they couldn’t sing along to this one but they could appreciate good live music too. They might've been broom gang hooligans but they were cultured ones.

Slightly embarrassed but also flushed from the praise of the audience, Alec stood up to give a smile and short little bow for the performance before sitting back down and beaming at Maggie. "They're not so bad, your cats fans."

It was easier to get her bearings again once Alec wasn't hovering behind her. She finally took that drink—a long one—and added a loud whistle to the applause. "My theory's that each tattoo they git makes them softer," she replied, unable to help returning his beam with a smile. "Ye're nae so bad, either. A wee bit more practice an' maybe ye'll be half-decent yin day."

“But never quite your level, right?” He teased as he took his own drink from atop the piano.

Maggie stuck her nose in the air, mock preening. "My level is unattainable fur the likes of ye." Probably true, and... probably for the best.

"I wouldn't dare try to measure up, it would be arrogant to even think I could," he shot back with a hefty dose of sarcasm dolloped on top.

"Wise lad." Maggie nodded and took a drink

Then, as she was wont to do, she returned to her natural state of plying friends for information. With an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle she asked, "So, play anything from yer new repertoire fur yer valentine?"

"Nothing new, just old classics," Alec shrugged, way too purposefully casually for it to be anything other than teasing her. "And I do still have the orchids to show for that day." While taking another sip he began to casually play with his free hand, freestyle rather than anything from the book. Background noise for the bar and it was fun to occupy his hands.

Maggie interjected with a plink! that did nothing for Alec's tune. Orchids, huh? Flowers. "Anyone I ken?"

She got another Look for that but he played on despite her. "I don't know who you ken," he pointed out, eyes still on that offending finger, waiting for it to strike again.

"Some fuckin' cheek on ye." She replied with a sidelong glance, then nudged him in the side. "C'mon. Out wi' it. Who is she?" A pause, "Or he, whatever-the-fuck." Finally, a long note poked and held for as long as she was able to draw out the command: "Spill."

In response to her long drawn out note, Alec stubbornly met her eyes and changed his tune to accompany her one note instead.

Rather than answer her question, he put his beer aside and kept eye contact as he reached out to pluck hers from her hand. "If you're going to play for real you need both hands free." Before sipping her beer as she watched and placing it out of arm's reach.

Maggie grasped out at the beer, flailing helplessly in the face of a tragic injustice. "Ye're the yin drinkin' fur free! Fuckin' thief." She was drunk enough to pout, and pout she did (she even huffed!), but if Alec wanted her to play by his rules and consent to the breaking of his ear drums? Well... fucking fine then!.

She placed her fingers on the keys in some facsimile of how she'd seen him do it except her hands were angled down and flat. Nothing good would come from them. Plunk plunk _plunk. "Still waitin' on the info." PLIIIINK.

"I was too busy cringing inside and what I've just subjected this poor piano to." He sighed a long suffering sigh, as if they'd gone through this a million times instead of maybe twice at most, and scooched over on the seat to sit closer to her. Nearly drunk Alec was bolder at least, and tomorrow he'd look back at this and shake his head at himself and wonder why on earth he'd been so comfortable with that. But right now he had other priorities.

"Relax your wrists, neutral position. Same with the fingers, like..." Alec searched for something to compare it to that'd maybe mean something to her. "Holding a cupcake not a pancake. Neither fit your diet but that why it's holding not eating."

Maggie's brow furrowed. She raised her hands and, trying to imagine holding a cupcake, made Cs with her index fingers and thumbs. Then, unsure, she flipped her hands palms-up and flat, pancake-like. Back to the C. It reminded her of her dad's incessant pinching with his two-fingered hand, so she snapped her fingers pinscers in Alec's face in what she hoped was the most annoying way possible. "How the fuck am I supposed to play like this?" She demanded, pinscing just shy of his nose. "I feel like my da'." Pinch-pinch.

“Not pick it up! Like...resting your hand on top-No... No you’re right it’s stupid.” Alec shook his head, cursing that odd piano teacher who had tried that for a hot second and made him think of it. “New method. Relax your wrists and hands, let them curve naturally. And if you get it wrong…” He took her beer off the piano and sipped it. “Penalty drinks.”

"Oh, aye," she muttered as she shot him a glare and turned back to the keys, "gi'e me a crap explanation then punish me when it doesnae work." Nevertheless, she followed his advice as well as she could manage. She didn't do half bad either, finding a more natural way for her wrists to sit and hands to curve... until she turned to look him in the eye and press ten keys all at once.

Alec met her eyes and slowly and deliberately raised her glass to his lips, taking a long continuous sip as he held out one hand that began counting down 10 seconds.

It was at about second 5 that he realized this may not have been the brightest idea. Hit her where it hurt, her beer, sure. But this was Maighread the Stubborn who wanted him to get drunk and all she had to do now was purposefully mess up and make him drink? This is what you got for thinking up ideas drunk.

It was around then, too, that Maggie tapped on the glass. Her glass. Her rightful glass!

She pressed the fingers of her left hand down again, one after the other, until she'd played five notes, tapping on the glass in time with the poor 'music.'

Oh, hey, there were those pedal things too!

So she did it again, accompanied by one of the pedals chosen at random.

Stand back, Maggie was doing science.

Alec was pretty sure the whole bar had at one point turned to watch what was happening at the piano. Not the shenanigans, nothing interesting there, but the girl at the bench making some ear bleeding sounds on the piano.

His eyes widened as she lifted her hands dramatically for the next wave. Screw the beer revenge, time to do the heroic thing and save the whole bar.

Quickly depositing her beer atop the piano next to his, Alec managed to reach out and catch both Maggie's wrists just in time to spare the pub from the ear horrors that were coming.

"Let's...leave the lessons for another time. First lesson is always just hand position."

Maggie, successfully piano-blocked, tried to wiggle her hands around to smack Alec's forearms. "Ye're just intimidated by my natural musical talent."

(Behind them, Powys and a shorter-yet-still-large-man with stick-and-poke knuckle tattoos that read "RAMP" and "AGER" were engaged in a heated discussion with a few others. It involved a lot of gesturing toward Alec and Maggie—that neither of them were aware of—and ended with money exchanging hands. Why? It's a mystery, probably.)

"It's so impressive my ears and ego can't bear another moment of it," Alec deadpanned before remembering he was still holding her wrists and quickly let go. "How about a new round instead? Your glass is looking a little empty." Entirely because he'd just chugged half of it due to her 'music'.

Maggie glared and replied, "A wee bit empty. Seems I drank it faser than I thought." She made no move to get up and acquire another beer — she was sort of banking on making Alec do it. It was only fair, after all. "The good shite, if ye'd be so kind."

Alec bit his lip and tried not to look so amused and incorrigible at that, but completely failed. At least it turned out Maggie was not an awful banker, because Alec got up to get them both a new round.

"Whatever Maeve gives me, so I hope you're on her good side."