Ten points if you get the title reference for today’s #1lineWed THEME. Will you fly south? Fly like the wind?  Are you a fly on the wall? Can you guess the prompt? Why yes, it’s **FLY**.Hey, I’ve been updated and uploading books. Give me a break. I did find a scene that works with the theme from the Boston Wolves. Sean Sullivan rescued a young woman. This is what happens later…
****
Sean had to be out of his mind. People milled about the place and some warm-up band played on the stage. He glanced down at Bridget. Her face still showed the bruises McCarthy had put there. The gobshite was dead and she wasn’t and that was the whole reason they were here in this crowd.

A concert. Her eyes lit up when she’d heard that Dropkick Murphy was playing here at the Pavilion. And he had the clout to get tickets so he had. Without a thought. Now he wanted to drop-kick himself.

Bridget took his hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Sean,” she breathed and he felt her excitement all the way to his toes. She wasn’t one for talking and he was still—over a week later—trying to drag the details out of her. Finding her in McCarthy’s back room, beat all to hell and back, had done something to him. Then McCarthy’s goons tried to shoot him. Which was why old man McCarthy and all his goons were dead. He took Bridget with him and she hadn’t said a word. Not for a few days. Not a feckin’ peep. The chit was about to drive him batty when she finally said, “Bridget.” That and nothing more.

“What?” he’d responded, shocked at the sound of her voice.

“My name,” she’d said.

And then she’d not said another word until he caught her dancing a jig and singing along with the radio—if a body would call it that—I’m Shipping Up to Boston. She didn’t know he was watching and when the radio announced the concert, her face went all soft and sad. So he wangled the tickets and here they were.

The warm-up band finished and he led Bridget closer to the fence that separated the stage from the crowed. It was a writhing mass but he’d sent a few of the boys in early. And there they were, front and center. He shoved through the mass of bodies, and none too gently, keeping a firm grip on Bridget’s hand as he tugged her along hin his wake. When they got to the fence, the boys surrounded the two of them to give them breathing room. At least until the band came out and started playing. He had to nudge Bridie and remind her to breathe.

When they played her favorite song, she jumped up and down until he hoisted her up onto his shoulders. She spread her arms wide, threw back her head, and screamed the words of the song along with almost everyone else in the audience. When she finally slid down off his shoulders, Bridget turned into his arms. “I always wished I could fly,” she told him. “With you, I can.”

She still had stars in her eyes after the last encore. Him? He figured he’d be deaf for a few years at the very least but seeing the joy on her face? Nothing else mattered. It was all worth it.
***
There you have it. Sean had no clue he was a romantic at heart. 😉 Writers, do you want to fly along with some words? Readers, when’s the last time you felt like flying?