A loose sequel to the story ATF Idol. However you don't need to read it to understand this one. I guess you could also call this a St Patrick's Day story, but it's really just an excuse for me to have Vin sing some of my favorite Celtic songs. Some of them can be heard here if you're interested: http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/index

Chris raised his fisted hand to knock, then stopped suddenly, and leaned in to place his ear against the door. He had heard sounds and didn't want to barge in if Vin had company. But he wasn't prepared for what he heard. He could make out Vin's raspy voiceand a guitar playing softly.
No paint or powder, no, none at all.
But she wore a bonnet with a ribbon on it
And round her shoulder was a Galway Shawl
Chris pulled his head away and looked at the door as if it could give him an explanation, before returning his ear to the thin wood.
'Till her father's cottage came into view.
Says she: 'Come in, sir, and meet my father,
and play to please him "The Foggy Dew.'
She sat me down beside the fire
I could see her father, he was six feet tall.
And soon her mother had the kettle singing
All I could think of was the Galway shawl.
I played "The Blackbird" and "The Stack of Barley",
"Rodney's Glory" and "The Foggy Dew",
She sang each note like an Irish linnet.
Whilst the tears stood in her eyes of blue.
'T'was early, early, all in the morning,
When I hit the road for old Donegal.
She said goodbye, sir, she cried and kissed me,
And my heart remained with that Galway shawl.
Now Chris knew that Vin could sing. He'd heard the man himself when Vin had been coerced into competing in the first annual Saloon Idol contest that Inez had hosted. In fact Vin had gone on to win that contest. But Chris hadn't realized that Vin had continued singing, actually seemed to be practicing. And he'd had no clue that Vin could play guitar. Unless the man had someone with him that was playing for him. But there was no conversation as a different song started up, with just a brief pause as the tuning on the guitar was checked.
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye
Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunder clouds rend the air;
Baffled our foe's stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare
Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean's a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head
Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye
Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field
Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men
Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.
Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to Skye
Vin's voice was perhaps more pure and confident sounding than the last time Chris had heard him sing and he could picture the younger man sitting on the couch, his eyes closed as he let his voice take wing.
Chris was now certain that Vin was alone inside. The timing between the guitar and vocals, with the occasional hesitation as finger placements were corrected, could only mean that Vin was playing the instrument himself. And the corrections were few, perhaps caused by learning a new song. With a smile, Chris turned and silently made his way back down Vin's stairs. Vin seemed to be having far too relaxing of a time to be disturbed, especially since all Chris had planned was to take the man out for a beer.
One month later
The seven men that made up ATF Team 7, often dubbed The Magnificent 7, sat around their usual table at the Saloon, a pitcher of green beer and a bowl of pretzels sitting in the middle of the table. Inez had stocked the saloon with bottles of Guiness as well as enough green tinted beer to keep the crowd celebrating St Patrick's Day in a non-Irish bar happy. The smell of corned beef and cabbage filled the room and Celtic music played over the sound system. Inez had also enticed the members of Team 7 to hang around the bar for the evening to act as unofficial security just in case trouble should break out. The men were drinking, true, but none had drunk even enough to get a buzz going.
The bar was still bustling as 10 p.m. drew near. Inez was busy setting up a microphone near the end of the bar. Once set up she signaled one of the waitresses and the Irish music stopped. Inez held onto the microphone and began to speak.
"Is everyone having a good time?" she asked and was quickly answered by a round of drunken cheers. "You are enjoying the green beer and music, yes?" and was answered by another round of cheers. "Well I think you will enjoy this as well. A little leprechaun told me that a good friend of mine is a Celtic ballad singer. Now this is something I did not know until now. In fact, neither did his friends and co workers until recently."
The seven men at the corner table had stopped their talking along with the crowd and were giving Inez their full attention. So none of the men reacted with more than a glance as Buck excused himself and made his way toward the back hallway, which led both to the bathrooms and a small storage room.
Inez paused briefly, looking around the crowded room before continuing. "Yet we all know this man. He has performed right here in the past." If Vin had looked over at Chris about that time, he would have seen the slight shadow of a grin cross his face. But instead he was listening to Inez, his suspicions rising. No one could know. Could they?
"Now, my friend, he is a little shy. And he does not know that we planned this. So he may need a little encouragement." Inez was continuing with her introduction as Vin's heart leapt into his throat. He glanced over at Chris, who simply gave his friend a smile and a raised eyebrow before returning his attention to Inez. Vin suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a rock.
"Please help me welcome Vin Tanner!" Inez finished, turning and clapping in Vin's direction before beginning to chant into the microphone, "Vin, Vin, Vin, Vin." The crowd picked up the chant, thumping beer mugs down on the tabletops to add to the noise.
Vin had no choice really. It would be more embarrassing at this point to refuse to take the stage than it would be to sing. He stood and turned to make his way around the table, just to find Buck standing there with his guitar.
"Picked it up for ya this afternoon," Buck told him with a grin. "It's all tuned and ready."
Vin glanced around the table. JD was stomping his foot and chanting. Ezra uncharacteristically raised two fingers to his mouth and whistled, before thumping his Guiness bottle on the table. The others were clapping in time to the chant.
"I know yer behind this some how, Larabee," Vin leaned in and whispered then approached the stage area to the sounds of his friends laughing, chanting and clapping. As he stepped up to the microphone, Inez leaned over and gave him a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, then backed away, leaving Vin alone before a room of strangers and fellow law officers. He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
"I hope some a you Irishmen ain't insulted, but some a the songs I know are Scottish. This one ya might a heard before. It's a song I remember my mama singing." With that he closed his eyes again, held his guitar by the neck and let it rest at his side, then began to sing a song he had used during the Saloon Idol competition.
In the ranks of death you will find him;
His father's sword he hath girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard,
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel fell but the foeman's steel
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he loved never spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!
Vin's voice was slightly raspy but pure and far from unpleasant to listen to. As the song ended the crowd hooted and cheered. Vin slowly opened his eyes, then nervously slung the strap of the guitar before starting to play the intro to The Skye Boat Song, one of the songs Chris had overheard outside Vin's apartment, then followed it with The Galway Shawl.
Vin began to take a bow. More of a head nod than anything, mumbling a few thank you's into the microphone as the crowd clapped in appreciation. Then a new chant began. More, more, more, more. Vin glance over at his friends. They were stomping and chanting as loud as any others. With a nod he turned back to the microphone.
"Reckon I know one more," he said then strummed the guitar strings and launched into The Black Velvet Band.
Not intending to stay very long
When I met with a frolicsome damsel
As She came a trippin along
Her eyes they shone like the diamond
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up in a black velvet band
Well a watch, she pulled out her pocket
And slipped it right into my hand
On the very first day that I met her,
Bad luck to the black velvet band
Her eyes they shone like the diamond
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up in a black velvet band
Before judge and jury next morning
Both of us did appear
A gentleman claimed his jewelry
And the case against us was clear.
Her eyes they shone like the diamond
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up in a black velvet band
Now seven long years transportation
Right down to Van Dieman's Land
Far away from my friends and companions
To follow the black velvet band
Her eyes they shone like the diamond
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up in a black velvet band
Vin nodded at the applause that followed and thanked the crowd once more as he lifted the guitar strap over his shoulders and stepped away from the microphone. Inez was there, hugging him once more and whispering, "Well done, Senor Vin," into his ear as she took the microphone and thanked him before announcing, "The next round is on the house!" and the recorded music began again.
"Yer all dead men," Vin muttered as he returned to the table. "Just as soon as there ain't any witnesses." A waitress appeared at the same time and passed out bottles of Guiness to each man.
"You did good up there, Pard," Chris replied as he lifted his bottle in a toast.
"Indeed you did Mr. Tanner. You actually brought a tear to my eye," Ezra said, a big grin on his face as he flicked a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye before lifting his bottle as well.
"Nah, that was the thought of the money he could make if you took that show on the road," Buck replied as he sat down from taking Vin's guitar back to the storeroom. "Did you see how those women reacted? They were positively swooning."
"Is that what caused the tears in YOUR eyes Buck?" Nathan asked, joining in the toast.
"Nah, that was when Buck realized that they were swooning for Vin and not him," JD replied, lifting his bottle.
"Gentlemen," Josiah said, his deep voice gathering their attention. He lifted his own bottle. "Here's to Saint Patrick and to Celtic balladeers."
The word 'Cheers' passed around the table. Vin had been slouched back in his chair, trying to disappear, but he leaned forward now and lifted his bottle with the rest. "Aw hell," he muttered, "Here's ta friends that stick their noses in where they don't belong." The table burst in to laughter.
THE END