Disclaimer: Claiming no ownership of Sons of Anarchy's original storylines and characters!
AN: Well… here I go again. As much as I tried to put this new idea on hold until my other stories are finished, I just couldn't. Not sure, if anyone other than I would be into it at all, but I though why not give it a try.
So this story, if I decide to continue it, will have a bit of a supernatural twist.
I'm not sure, if it turns out as a Happy/OC or Jax/OC. Maybe a bit of both?
I'd also like to say that I will not ditch my other stories!
So without further ado, let's get this ball rolling.
Clair looked at the clock behind Johnny's head. He had been seeing her for three months already and yet there was no real progress. Yeah, he had learned the typical lines like 'I'm a changed man', 'That life's behind me' and so on. But she knew better than to fall for words that weren't real. She didn't even need her special ability, or as she liked to put it- her personal curse, to know that nothing had really changed when it came to his criminal tendencies.
"I think our time's up for today, see you again next week," she gave him a small smile, hoping that the next time would bring with it a sense of improvement. Rising from behind her desk, Clair walked to her office's door. Opening it up while still keeping her eyes on Johnny, she motioned at the guard to come in and help him back to his cell.
She didn't like the way the guards shackled her patients to the table, but it was insisted by the head of the prison, and after all it was for her own safety.
"Till next time, doc," Johnny winked at her.
It was almost noon. Which meant it was time for her secret appointment.
Clair had been planning it for ages, but something had always kept her from making the call. Well 'something' was a misstatement. After all she was a shrink and knew well why she had a hard time with the decision. It meant that it really was over. Not that it hadn't already been that way for a while, but still it made it not only feel but also look final. Standing in front of her the small mirror hanging from the wall, she unbuttoned her white blouse and stared down at the tattoo starting from her middle and flowing right under her lacey bra to her side. It said 'Nathaniel'.
And it was the last time she was ever going to be branded like that. It had been a teenager stupidity, but at the same time she really did love him at one point, so she couldn't entirely regret getting it. And to be all honest, maybe a part of her still did… But as she really was a quite unique person, it was simply bound to end on a sorrow note. Just like every other relationship she'd ever had. He cheated on her and there was no way he was ever going to be able to hide it from her nosy brain.
With a sudden anger flashing through her, she buttoned up her blouse and headed for the tattoo-parlor.
Knocking on the door first, she entered the creepy-looking place. It almost looked ominous. She walked to the heavily tattooed and pierced guy at the reception table and gave him a wry smile.
"Hi, I'm Clair Jones, I have an appointment."
Looking up at her, a wary grin appeared on his lips, "Ohh, yeah about that. I'm so sorry, wanted to give you a call before to inform you, but I guess I totally blanked out on it. The thing is that I kind of double-booked.."
"Oh no," Clair sighed in disappointment. All that courage she had gathered up had been for nothing? Really?
"Well yeah, so I can't take you on right now, but the thing I actually wanted to call you about was that I got another tattoo artist who could do it. If that's okay with you?" he said it in one breath.
"So I can still get this done today?" Clair was confused.
"Yeah, if you're up for it. He should be here any minute now. And as I did totally fuck this thing up, I'm glad to offer you a 30% discount," he said, as his eyes followed the sound that seemed to be coming from the parking lot.
"Well I do want to get this done as soon as possible. What about the sketch I sent you?" Clair was about to snap her finger just to get his attention back on her.
"I already forwarded it to him. He's really good, so don't worry about a thing. As a matter of fact he just got here, so you can go wait for him in that room and then you can talk about all of it face to face," he pointed at the black door leading to the back of the building.
"Okay, thanks," she nodded, heading for the back room.
A few minutes later Clair was sitting in the chair, looking at the various sketches on the walls around her. Her head snapped to the door as soon a she heard the doorknob being turned from the other side.
He came in like he owned the place. Giving her almost no attention, he headed straight to the table next to her.
"Hi," she tried to be polite.
Giving her a slight nod, he started laying out his tools.
"Where do you want this?" he pointed at the paper in his hand.
"Ribcage," she was a bit taken aback by his gravelly voice and the bluntness that came with it, "to cover up the previous one."
"Strip," he ordered, perhaps for the first time really looking at her.
Feeling startled and frankly little bit afraid, she started undoing her blouse. He had finished his preparations and was watching her undress like a hawk. He rolled his chair closer when she finally was ready, with nothing but her bra covering up her upper body.
He moved his finger over the name that was about to be just a bad memory and she couldn't help but pry into his head. However he wasn't exactly an open book, like some others were. Still Clair was able to get over those barriers his thought were hidden behind, once she really concentrated on it.
"Stupid bitch tat," he thought looking at the name on her body.
For some reason she couldn't help herself from snapping back at his thoughts. "It's stupid, I know, that's why I'm getting rid of it." The words fell over her lips before she realized her mistake. She had literally answered his thoughts.
"You're probably thinking something like that, right? Like every other person who's ever seen it," she tried to save the moment, just as his questioning eyes had captured hers.
He didn't say much to that, more like made a little snort and turned back to the table. She needed to check to be clear that he hadn't gotten suspicious about her, but as he had removed his hands from her body, there was nothing she could do to hear what was going on behind those dark eyes of his.
That was the thing about her ability to read minds. She needed to be in physical contact for that kind of a connection and even then she wasn't always able to hear everything. It really depended on the person's brain she was trying to invade and also on her own level of concentration. Then again sometimes it was nothing she could do to not listen in and hell if that simple fact hadn't ruined every single relationship she had ever had. If only there was a chance to hide it.. like the tattoo she was about to get more or less off of her body.
As much as her 'good ears' destroyed her personal life, it worked out great for her professional one though. So at least she had that going for her.
She had been so lost in her thoughts that it actually surprised her when he started with the outline of the three branches with small red flower, which she was replacing 'Nathaniel' with.
As his hands were again on her, she forced her way back in. He wasn't thinking about her at all, which was great but at same time a bit disappointing as well. She hadn't apparently intrigued him at all or maybe he was just that good at dedicating on his work.
The whole process hurt more than she remembered. After a while she couldn't help but wince with every single spray of ink.
"You need a break?" he suddenly asked.
"No," she squeaked, although she really did need one.
The pain was helping her keep herself from thinking along with him.. until he finally though about her again.
"Looks better already, she'll be satisfied with it," he though. And then much to her surprise, as it actually didn't happen too often that she could not only hear, but also see what people thought or rather imagined, she saw him picture her tattoo with her not wearing a bra.
Her eyes shot wide and she made a sudden move, causing him to pull away.
"What?" he demanded.
"Nothing, just hurts a little," she couldn't wait for it all to be over. Even more so now that he had imagined her in his head. Naked.
He rolled his eyes and continued coloring. Now that she was actually trying to block his thoughts, she couldn't help but hear everything. He was thinking about preparing for something.
"No gun.. too much noise. Better a knife. Ice pick perhaps," the tattooist though. He quickly glanced at the clock. "Should hurry with this bitch, need to get there before them.. Gonna stick it in his head, will be quick and he'll have no time to scream like a bitch. "
She felt herself stiffen up like a statue. He was thinking about killing someone. He was quite definitely going to kill someone after he was done with her tat. "OH SHIT," her own mind screamed. She needed to do something, warn someone. But how? She couldn't go to the police, they'd think she's crazy. Couldn't really tell anyone about her ability… Unless of course she wanted to become a public freak show.
"All done," he topped her red skin off with a bandage what felt like an agonizingly long hour later.
"Thank you," Clair tried not to show her fear.
She paid and got out of the parlor. Sitting in her car debating with herself, she couldn't believe what she was about to do. She was going to follow him and god knows how keep the thing he was planning from happening. She was crazy, but her conscience didn't leave her with any other option.
"I really am a stupid bitch," she muttered biting her lip, as she waited for him and his bike to get two cars ahead of her.