New story. Going to be short, right now just planning on a few chapters. But I am in love with these new characters I have created! IN LOVE, I tell you! mwuahahaha!
Full Synopsis: Fox and Snake are known as The Twins. They are essentially contract killers with an affinity for never leavy a body to be found... whole. Jax needs their particular set of skills, realizing that they be a cure-all for the problems the club is facing. Jax, of course, simply wants to get his club back on the right path and ensure that everyone keeps their lives and The Twins are the only way he sees, as extreme as a measure it is to take.
Warnings: Language. Violence. I'm not sure what else will pop up later, so warnings may be posted on a by-chapter basis.
As always, please review. Let me know what you think of this! I live for reviews... literally.
My only beta-reader in the spell-check and grammar check in Microsoft word. I proof read once, so I deeply apologize if anything wrong slipped through.
"Sometimes you have to pick the gun up to put the Gun down."
- Malcom X
Her name is Fox. His name is Snake. Collectively they are simply known as The Twins. True to their name, they are fraternal twins of proud Comanche heritage and whether those sly names are true or false, only rumors remain in place of fact. Snake is a tall man with dark skin and even darker long hair, stick straight, that reaches past the small of his back – much in the same fashion of his sister. With a long round face, razor sharp features, broad nose and slanted dark eyes he is a foreboding character even without his extensive collection of tattoos or heavily muscular state. Fox is tall, though shorter than Snake, and for as much as they look alike they could nearly be identical twins. Their nose, though, remains different; hers is far narrower and pierced with a hoop. Like her brother, she is heavily tattooed. A large fox in grey scale covers most of her left forearm and bicep, mimicked on her brother with a large snake that winds through the well-defined muscles on his right arm. Fox, however, was the unfortunate victim of a mugging gone awry – mostly for her attackers who were found in over fifty separate pieces. The incident however left her with a scar that curves from over her right eyebrow all down her face to her chin with a jagged lack of precision. Snake, in an effort to make his sister feel better, inflicted the same wound on himself with a curved knife yet his self-inflicted incision healed much better than hers. His scar is now barley noticeable except for a slight puckering of his deep skin. Hers still mars her beautiful high-cheek boned face with a vicious mark. She is proud of the wound and that much is made obvious. She had a traditional tattoo placed along it, triangles and dots and other geometric patterns decorating the outside length of the long, wide scar. A few of their other tattoos are identical, tribal tattoos that hold a deep meaning as enigmatic as they are, yet for the most part their ink is what individualizes them.
Most of their origins remain a mystery with intent in the secrecy; they are quiet and close to only each other. Little is known about them beyond their affinities for secrecy and brutality. Snake owns a bar barely a stone's throw over the Oregon/Washington border. Fox is a professional car thieve, specializing in luxury makes. However, those are only their day jobs. The Twins are truly contractors; harrowing, ruthless contractors that carry out some of the most gruesome and horrendous atrocities ever committed by human hands. Their employers range over a broad scope, from mobs to gangs to singular individuals who want someone removed from the earth in a bloody fashion. Money is their true employer and their loyalty lies only within themselves.
They have a reputation spread through hushed words in darkened alleys. Even in the furthest corners of the underworlds their name, their image; their notoriety is known and known to be kept secret.
It is not an easy decision that brought Jax to the twins. It came from many a sleepless night. But still, in need of assistance, he ventured to Washington with the only other person he can trust in this moment, his Sargent At. Arms, Chibs and a duffel bag full of cash.
When they arrive at Snake's bar, aptly named The Pit, not only for the allusion to a snake's pit but also to the pits of Hell, a place rumoured to be The Twin's birth place.
Dismounting his bike, Chibs shakes out the numbness in his legs.
Then, looking over at Jax he asks, "Are you sure you want to do this Jackie-Boy?"
Jax sighs silently as he hangs his helmet on his handlebars, taking a long pause. Even though his heart reached this decision weeks ago, his mind still struggles to prevail with calm rationality.
"Yeah." He finally says. Chibs nods, his wrinkled brow abashedly raised. He does not want this, even though a deep, reclusive part of him lusts after it. But Jax is his President, his brother, and regardless of what Chibs thinks, he is wholly behind his President.
"Aye, then let's get inside. It's fucking baltic out here." Chibs grumbles. He casts a wayward look at Jax from the corner of his eyes that the SAMCRO president misses. While he supports Jax with every bone in his body and believes that what they are here to do has to be done, he is still left with some hesitation about how exactly they're going about it. He knows they couldn't go to anyone even loosely associated with the club. He knows The Twins' reliable reputation for hellacious acts and secrecy is what they need. He knows all this. Yet still, an unsettling feeling sits in his stomach like a brick.
No one else is at the bar during this early afternoon hour, their bikes were the only thing in the parking lot aside from an old Ford pick-up truck and another motorcycle – a blue Harley Heritage, but considering the dark bar is empty those must belong to Snake and Fox.
Despite the fact it is warm inside, both Jax and Chibs leave their jackets on, their bones still chilled from the long ride north.
The first person they see is Fox, who is behind the bar drying glasses when they enter. She is a formidable yet darkly sexy sight to see. Her long, ink-black hair is pulled into two long braids that reach her waistline. With her hair back it frames her sharp face, most importantly the grisly scar decorated with ink. She wears a red wife beater and shorts, tattoos covering every inch of her skin to be seen. Jax is drawn to the scar on her face, at the gruesome nature of it and with curiosity at how she chose to decorate it. Her athletic body is only an afterthought. Chibs, however, after taking stock, stares at her breasts pushing up from her low-cut top. Beautiful tits. Beautiful big tits.
"Can I help you?" She asks as Jax approaches the bar, only a pace or two a head of Chibs.
"Yeah, I think so." Jax says coyly, taking a seat on one of the many empty bar stools. Chibs easily slips onto a stool next to him.
Fox puts down the glass she had been cleaning then braces both arms against the bar's counter as she leans over, closer to Jax, "Don't be coy with me, boy." Her words are overflowing with a venomous warning.
Partially insulted, Jax sneers but Chibs quickly clasps a hand on his President's shoulder that halts any words from flying forth like fists.
"We need to talk to The Twins." Chibs says. Fox turns her head and looks at him, her dark slanted eyes narrowed only slightly. She studies him for a long moment before turning to astutely study Jax. She then breaths in deep, crossing her arms under her large bust pushing her breasts up only further. Chibs tries to not stare. Leaning back on one foot, Fox's eyes quickly flicker between Chibs and Jax.
"Before we talk, I need you to strip." She finally says.
Understanding her unspoken intent, Jax's face smoothes yet his eyes pull back acrimoniously, "We're not wearing a wire."
"Prove it. Both of you."
Jax looks at Chibs for a quick moment, before standing up. Chibs follows. They dance just like Fox wanted of them, lifting up their shirts and emptying their pockets.
Mostly satisfied with their bare skinned chests and backs, the last thing she tells them is to hand over all their weapons.
Chibs and Jax exchange a meaningful look before begrudgingly agreeing. Fox takes them silently then hides them under the bar.
"Follow me." She says with a gesture towards the side of the bar. It had not been noticed before, but there is a wooden staircase at the far end of The Pit that leads to an unknown upstairs area.
Jax and Chibs follow behind her silently. The only sound is the thick soles of Fox's cowboy boots as they stomp against the stairs. Jax's heart begins to race in anticipation of this meeting while Chibs focuses on the way Fox's voluptuous rear sways in her denim cut-offs. He almost doesn't notice the long knife attached to her belt at all, not until they have traveled up the stairs and she rests a hand on its hilt while she knocks on a door.
"We got business." Fox says quickly, then enters without awaiting a reply
Chibs nudges Jax with an elbow, pointing down at the sheathed weapon.
"Watch out." Chibs mouths.
"I know you got my back." Jax whispers with a small smile before following in Fox's footsteps.
Snake is standing with his bare muscular tattooed arms over his chest, gazing out a rain-spattered window, the sparse outside light casting a shadow even larger and darker than Snake's abnormally foreboding figure across the slate wood floor. He cranes his neck when they enter, first looking at his twin with in a cryptic way before finally eyeing Jax and Chibs.
"Sons. Haven't seen one of you guys in a while." Snake comments offhand. A worried, confused look is exchanged by Jax and Chibs – neither of them had known that someone else with the club had called upon The Twins before.
The office is sparse with furniture, a long oak desk pushed into one corner and then a large, round wooden table in the center lined by many chairs, two of which have tall backs. All along the walls are antlers from buck and moose alike, intermixed with framed photographs and a rather precociously placed antique hunting rifle that looks brand-spanking-new.
Fox crosses the room to stand next to her brother, their nearly identical appearance even more apparent with their faces a foot apart. Jax and Chibs stand closer to the shut door, Chibs with his arms over his chest and Jax with his lax by his side, the room between them.
"Who are they?" Snake asks Fox with one of his thick brows raised.
Fox shrugs, "You know I don't care about names."
Snake's brow rises once with a subtle nod, as if he is admitting he was foolish for asking the question.
"I'm Jax and this is Chibs." Jax introduces, only vaguely gesturing to his Scottish Sgt. At. Arms with a sideways nod of his head.
Snake crosses the distance between them with heavy steps that echo and rattle the room, and then inspects them just as closely as Fox had.
"I already took their weapons and made them strip. They're clean, no wire." Fox says. Snake looks over his shoulder to her briefly. "I'm positive." Fox reaffirms. Snake looks back to the two bikers with scrutiny, especially at the 'President' patch on Jax's cut.
Taking a step back, "How did you hear about us?" Snake asks.
Jax half-smirks, "Charlie Horse."
Fox rolls her eyes, "That man's mouth is bigger than-"
"He is a friend." Snake interrupts, half-glaring at his sister. She sighs then nods along, somewhat begrudgingly so.
Turning his attention back to Chibs and Jax, Snake says, "Charlie Horse is good man. If he told you to come here, surely you are experiencing a great deal of trouble and would like that trouble to stop."
Jax nods.
"Aye." Says Chibs.
"Then sit-" Fox begins.
"And we'll talk." Snake finishes.
Fox and Snake sit in either one of the high-backed chairs while Jax and Chibs choose to sit across from them. Fox leans into the table with her elbows bent while Snake sits calmly, barely blinking. Jax crosses his arms over the table's top and Chibs leans back into his chair with his hands in his lap, his eyes accidentally locking with Fox more than once. There is little tension in the room yet there remain a static sort of tension, like the air is super-charged.
"So what is it that brings you here?" Snake inquires.
Jax sucks in a deep breath, rubbing an anxious hand over his head before he speaks and when he does he is sure to look at both Fox and Snake equally, "We've been having a lot of problems."
"What kind of problems?" Fox probes.
"Problems from all over, man. We've got a RICO case over our head, held off by the CIA as long as we're their puppets for the cartel… then we've got internal shit." The truth spills forth from Jax's mouth like water breaking from a dam, anxious nerves causing him to want to get this over as quick as possible. Chibs tries to draw back the widening of his eyes and the slacking of his jaw that comes from surprise, having not heard the full scope of things until now.
Jax turns and looks at him, realizing that he's just said things Chibs did not know but with a reassuring look from the Scot, Jax is once again amazed at how loyal Chibs is. With a quick nod of gratitude by Jax and the slightest nod of Chibs' chin all is right with them – their attention allowed to be placed back upon The Twins.
Fox and Snake look at each other, telepathically conversing.
"That's heavy shit." Fox finally says after a pause longer than Jax liked.
"Which is why we came to you." He responds.
Snake looks down at his large calloused hands for a long moment before again sharing a brief look with his twin sister.
"We'll have to think about it, talk for a while." He says. Fox nods her head along to his words, her dark, fiery eyes locked with Chibs in a way that makes him only slightly uncomfortable but mostly curious as to why she finds a need to steal his gaze.
Jax nods, "Alright. We can wait."
Snake stands, walking over to Jax while he speaks, "You can wait downstairs. We'll have a decision soon." He outstretches his large, mitt-like hand for Jax to shake. Jax stands before accepting the firm handshake. It lasts a moment too long, and when Jax looks into Snake's eyes he is almost startled by what he sees – a warning clearly written on his almost-black irises.
"Be careful; pass that along to Chibs too." Snake says; quiet, so that only Jax hears. Jax nods with feigned understanding. Snake releases his hand.
Fox leans against the desk, shaking her head passionatly, "CIA, Feds… That's more trouble than we need."
Snake stands in front of the window, pensively gazing out at the rain-sogged field behind The Pit. Deep in thought, he strokes the barely scarred side of his face while weighing his thoughts.
Fox patiently awaits her brothers response, turning her attention to her nails painted a deep crimson, annoyed at the fact the polish is already beginning to chip.
"The Sons have been good to us in the past." Snake says.
Fox snaps up to attention, looking at her brother wryly, "That doesn't mean shit. And besides, did you see their cuts? They're from the Redwood charter – the mother charter. We haven't dealt with them before."
Snake turns around, leaning against the windowsill while he looks at his sister, his chin slightly down and his lips almost frowning. He doesn't need to say anything, because Fox knows what that look means.
She sighs then waves her hand as if swatting an invisible fly, "I know, but one of us has to be cautious."
Snake cocks his head to the side, one thick brow raised.
Fox gives him a wry, mocking look.
Snake laughs quietly, "Fox, you are about as cautious as a scared deer darting across a road."
Fox doesn't even regard his comment, "You trust too easy." She says with an enervated breath.
Snake shakes his head, "I don't trust easy. I can just tell character when I see it and that Jax… He's in over his head, new to be president-"
"Hell, the patch is brand new, still crisp white, even I could tell you that." She interrupts. Snake looks at her contentiously, a look she sees all too often. She holds up both of her palms flat; surrendering.
"Jax needs help and obviously doesn't have anywhere else to turn." Snake says with authority.
Fox sighs then finally decides to nod, "You're right."
She crosses the distance between them with a slow, languid gait, "So, how many people to you think we're gonna have to kill?"
Snake shrugs a shoulder, "A lot."
Fox grins, her scar distorted it almost as much as the malicious glee in her dark eyes does. Snake then smiles too, placing a muscular arm around her shoulders then pulling her into his chest. Not in a hug but rather a light embrace.
"We're going to have to do a lot of planning." He comments.
Fox groans with obstinate disdain for planning; she is the spontaneous yin to Snake's assiduous yang. Snake chuckles once, but then he is again serious, "So, have we reached a decision?"
Fox nods into the crook of Snake's shoulder, "Yeah. We'll do it."
The quote in the beginning, and I hope my dear readers understand this, is about how Jax is realizing he must temporarily escalate the violence to ultimatly end it.
Review! Whether it be one word, constructive criticism (greatly welcomed), or a million word rambling, I love all reviews and to me, they make writing worth it.
So, review. Or I'll send the twins after you ;)