Black Hills Holiday

by Bad Company

The National President has made the 2017 Sturgis Rally a mandatory run for all the west coast charters of the Sons. Mini story set after "Gets in Your Blood".

1. Black Hills on the Horizon

Black Hills Holiday

Co-written by Bad Company and Reapergirl

AN: This is the beginning of the continuation of Ava and Juice's story, and it also brings Kozik's girl Cassie into their world. We're still working away on the Koz/Cassie spinoff, but for now, the crew is headed for Sturgis. This is a small story to bridge "Gets in Your Blood" to "We Are Young". So if you haven't read "Gets in Your Blood", be warned that this won't make a whole lot of sense.

Synopsis: Sturgis, South Dakota is the home of the world famous Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, and this year, the National President has made it a mandatory run for all the west coast charters of the Sons. Ten days in biker paradise. Juice and Ava have been married since April, and are trying to get pregnant. Kozik has been with Cassie Purcell for ten months and she's nervous to meet his Charming family on this trip.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and we claim no ownership of any copyrighted characters or places mentioned herein. The saloon is loosely based on a real establishment which we will not be referring to by name. We also do not claim to portray outlaw MCs in complete and total accuracy – any discrepancies are our fault. Ava Ortiz belongs to Bad Company and Cassie Purcell belongs to Reapergirl.

Thank you in advance to all you amazing readers and reviewers out there. We hope you enjoy the ride!

…

1: Black Hills on the Horizon

"Come on, baby. Come on, come on, come on."

Juice fished a quarter out of his pocket and tilted it on its side, using the edge of the coin's ridges to scratch off the two lottery tickets he'd just bought. He'd been an occasional lottery player before, but now, he was habitual. Silver flecks went everywhere as he dashed the quarter back and forth, chanting in his head for this just to be the one. In the past few months, he'd won a grand total of five dollars. But that didn't discourage him – just made him all the hungrier for the two-hundred and fifty thousand dollar big jackpot.

The first ticket was a bust. He set it aside and turned to the second one, still holding onto a tiny scrap of hope. That hopeful, optimistic side of his personality was what all his brothers attributed to the speed at which his life had changed since April. And that speed was nothing short of breakneck.

"Ah," he heard Chibs over his shoulder. "Sammy-boy, tell your Pops he ain't gonna win this one neither." The Scot held the fifteen-month-old boy on his hip as he perused the aisles of the gas station's food mart. "You want the regular or the fancy shit?"

"Regular," Juice murmured, distracted, as he scratched the last box in the row. He sighed. Nada.

Chibs came up to the counter and set down the "regular", a twelve pack of Budweiser. Sam was babbling something that must have made sense in his own head, his few definitive words mixed in: "Da-ee" for Daddy, "Muh-muh" for Mama, "ook" for cookie, and several others that Juice understood though they sounded nothing like the source of their meaning.

"Any luck, kid?" Chibs asked, though it had to be obvious the way Juice shoved the quarter back in his pocket and crumpled up the two tickets that there had definitely been no luck.

Juice snorted. "I'd say that I have bad luck, but I'm pretty sure you have to have some luck before it can turn bad."

The VP shrugged and repositioned his hold on Sam. "Always next time then."

Juice smiled grimly at his father-in-law's optimism. It was a bit of a role reversal, really, he himself having always been the eternal optimist. He supposed that since he knew he'd keep scratching tickets until they quit selling them, his optimistic side was still hanging around. It just wasn't so loud and obnoxious as it used to be.

Having a wife and a kid did that to a guy – made him practical and cynical. In a good way, though, definitely a good way. Being responsible for someone besides himself was healthy; he thrived on it in fact.

The clerk – a kid probably in his late teens or early twenties with acne so bad it was painful to look at – pulled the beer across the counter and consolidated it with the pack of Sour Punch Straws and two liter Coke Juice had already set beside the register. "This it?" he asked, running the barcode reader over the Budweiser until it beeped.

Chibs threw a Guns & Ammo in with the other stuff. "Aye." And then fished for his wallet with his free hand.

"Nah, I got this," Juice protested, digging into his own pocket.

"Nope." The Scot had already thumbed his credit card over to the clerk. "I like to spoil the boy."

Juice chuckled; none of what they'd bought could be enjoyed by "the boy".

The clerk passed Chibs' Visa back and then stood frozen a minute while the register confirmed the purchase with its usual whirs and electronic scratches. His mouth dropped open as he looked between them. And then, still wide-eyed and slack-jawed as a trout, asked ", so…did you guys like…adopt, or something?" He pointed at Sam.

It took Juice a good three seconds to figure out the root of the question, and by that time Chibs was already mumbled something heavily accented to himself and heading for the door – beer in one hand and baby in the other. "You be careful what you say in this town!" he hollered back at the clerk.

Juice frowned and snatched up the other bag. "Ditto that…ya know, or something." He meant it as a threat, and the kid took it as one, face going white beneath his zits. He kind of liked it when the baby earned him female attention. Being accused of life-partner-co-adoption was a first. And though it left him wanting to flash pictures of the little missus and might have stirred up some solitary confinement prison imagery he'd just as soon have lobotomized out of his head – certain people in his family no doubt thought that was a good idea anyway – it was still kind of funny.

Chibs thought so too, because as he joined him at the truck, the Scot was chuckling. "No offense, Juicy-boy, but if I'm adopting babies with a Puerto Rican…she better have bigger tits than what you've got."

-O-

"I'll admit I had my doubts after I saw the dress, but this is actually beautiful."

The banquet hall across the parking lot from the Methodist church had been transformed into a midnight garden party with all the trimmings. White wood lattice screens discretely separated the buffet line from the tables and the dance floor, breaking up the huge rectangular room so that guests could shift through what felt like several open, airy rooms. Potted ferns and hydrangeas, roses, ficus trees that had been wheeled in on hand trucks because the glazed pots were so heavy and dozens of free-standing vases full of cut wildflowers were grouped in artful displays – the smell of so much real greenery almost overwhelming indoors like this. The tables were draped with white cloths, more vases in the centers of each, a million twinkling Christmas lights bundled inside gauze panels affixed to the ceiling created an outdoor star effect. Couples swayed on the dance floor to the drowsy beats of jazz music. And Ava couldn't believe that this was what her best friend's wedding had turned out to be.

Ava nodded in agreement with her mother – they were seated at one of the round tables, enjoying the lull in attention now that the ceremony was over and she was no longer rooted in place beside Caroline up in front of a whole church full of people.

"It's really amazing what a whole army of Kansas housewives can accomplish overnight."

Maggie tried and failed to bite back a grin. Getting acquainted with Caroline's new in laws had been…interesting to say the least. Her fiancé – now husband – Josh, was an aerospace engineer, a graduate from Stanford who'd been working in Sacramento temporarily. And he was a hell of a sweet guy, was good to Caro. But the family – the whole lot of them in town from Kansas – had had very firm ideas about the wedding. And Caroline hadn't the heart to displease Josh's family, so she'd worn old Mother Whitcomb's dress, the revered grandmother, and likewise Ava and the rest of the bridesmaids had been "asked" to wear the teal dresses from the Whitcomb-Bradshaw wedding of 1954.

The dress. God save her from the dress. It was a full-length, rumpled taffeta nightmare with a tulle embellishment on the skirt, puffy Princess Di sleeves, complete with a giant bow perched right over her ass, the tails of which trailed down and got tangled up in all the tulle. After Juice had gotten his laughter under control, which had been bad enough to set Sam into a giggle fit too, and then both her guys had been in hysterics, he'd managed to compose himself and had played Mr. Bright Side. It's not that bad. It makes your tits look huge. Whatever. The only bright side to this whole thing was that she'd never have to wear it again.

The chair to Ava's right scraped across the floor as Carter returned, his plate heaped with mini quiche, cucumber sandwiches, meatballs on tooth picks and a token spoonful of fruit from the finger food buffet. The reaper on his back hadn't changed the fact that he was still a blonde, blue-eyed pretty boy who gave Jax a hell of a run for his money in the handsome department. And for Caro's wedding, he'd even scraped up a white shirt and tie. He wore his hair buzzed close these days, more efficient, but that combined with the sunburn on his forehead didn't exactly scream "biker". But he was, and aside from her mom, he was the only MC affiliated attendee at this wedding.

"Trip number three," Ava said with a grin, meaning his latest visit to the buffet.

He speared a chunk of pineapple with his fork and shrugged. "I didn't eat lunch hoping we'd have steak or something."

She pulled on one of her satin, poofy sleeves. "This dress and you were thinking steak?"

He grinned. "Too bad they aren't gonna let you keep that thing."

"I offered to buy it from the manic-in-law," Maggie said, smiling at her own nickname for mother of the groom ", but no deal."

Carter's grin widened and then he did a visual sweep of the reception, much as Ava had been doing herself. "When's Juice getting here?"

"He's not," she smiled wryly. "He chose to play the Old Man card and invoked his right to babysit with Granda."

"Lucky shithead," Carter pulled at his tie.

Caroline and Josh were making the rounds, coming to each table and passing out hugs and thank yous. Ava pushed aside the plate of grapes and strawberries she'd been nibbling and dabbed her mouth with a ridiculously delicate lace napkin as she saw the couple heading for their table.

Caroline's dress was even more elaborate than the God awful bridesmaid gowns – the lace at the neck going all the way up to her chin with at least a dozen tiny pearl buttons running down the middle of her throat to the top of her modest cleavage. At least, it was where her cleavage was, not that it could be seen. The stiff satin bodice rode a good six inches above anything that might have been considered the boob area. Modest was an extreme understatement. And the train had to be four feet, the veil a heaped mess of netting that looked designed for bee keeping.

But Caro was beaming and Josh looked pretty happy too.

"Hey, guys!" Caroline had to shout above the din of voices and jazz music.

Ava stood and both their dresses hampered their efforts to hug. "Congrats," she squeezed her friend tight. "You look beautiful, even with the dress."

"Liar!" Caroline accused, but when she pulled back her eyes were wet with happy tears, She took both of Ava's hands in her own. "I'm so glad you're here. Look at us, both married. We're so boring!"

"I'm gonna go with sane," Ava laughed. "We're both sane."

Caro hugged Carter and Josh waved hello to them all, and then they were off and moving again. Ava started to feel the stirrings of butterflies as she realized that once the couple of honor were back at their table, dinner would be served and it would be time for Ava to give her maid of honor toast.

"I think I have stage fright," she mused.

Carter snorted and it was a miracle a grape didn't come shooting out of his nose when he did so. "Please! I've seen you get on a table and tell a whole herd of sweetbutts where they can stub out their smokes….no way do you have stage fright."

-O-

Janine Devine had been Tacoma's unofficial queen bee for a while now. The newly retired President Otter had been a bachelor ever since he'd divorced his first and only wife ten years prior. Glen, Janine's husband and Old Man, had been a rock-steady VP and without any children of her own save for the black and white Papillon currently resting beneath her chair, Janine had happily stepped up to the challenge of organizing the club's PR and in general mothering all the boys who needed mothering. Every Sunday she cooked enough dinner for all the Tacoma MC bachelors, one of which had been Koz for a long, long time. Right up until ten months ago.

Cassie knew all of this because Janine was a chatterbox. A story was never just a story with her – it took a hundred twists and turns, doubled back and went on tangents that could leave your head spinning if you weren't careful. But through it all, Cassie had learned a lot around the Devines' dining room table that Koz probably would never have shared seeing as how he wasn't a gossip, and wasn't a woman.

"…the recipe is a breeze," Janine was saying, and paused to take another sip of red wine. "Parmesan cheese on top and you're ready to pop back in the over for another five." She gestured toward the mostly empty casserole dish in the middle of the table, and then blanched. "Oh, shit, honey," she turned apologetic eyes up to Cassie. "That won't work. I wasn't thinking about Luc…but you don't need the cheese. You could just go with the bacon."

Cassie smiled. "Trust me, Luc not eating the green beans had nothing to do with dairy."

To Janine's left, April Hunt nodded vigorously. "It don't matter what you put on 'em, the kids know they're still veggies." April and her husband Boone had three kids, all between the ages of four and ten, and they were serving as Lucas's playmates for the duration of the dinner party. Through the open French doors between the neighboring living room and back deck, Cassie could hear their voices as they played in the back yard.

It was after eight, and not quite dark yet, the evening unusually muggy. The men had vacated the dining room now that the meal was over and were in front of the TV with beers, awaiting dessert. The women hadn't gotten up yet, still shooting the shit around the long table that was cluttered with dirty dishes and empty bottles. It was your basic Saturday night SOA dinner party, and now that she was no longer the newbie, Cassie didn't just love the dinners, but felt comfortable at them.

But with this many men, there was always a newbie. Tonight, her name was Elisa and Jinx had brought her. She looked nervous, hesitant, well-dressed and decidedly normal, not at all Jinx's type. And though she was trying hard, she had no idea that Jinx never planned on bringing her back to another of these functions – she was merely the flavor of the week.

"Jinx told me you guys were all going on some big road trip coming up?" Elisa asked, making a stab at polite conversation.

"Well I'm not," April said. "Last time I left the monsters with a sitter that long, poor thing changed her number afterward just to avoid my calls. Not that I blame her. If I didn't think they'd sniff me down like dogs, I'd skip town and change my number too."

"Me neither," Stacy spoke up, passing a hand over her hugely pregnant belly.

'That reminds me," Janine snapped her fingers. "Stace, you still haven't given me the hotel info."

"I haven't?" she frowned. "I coulda sworn I did."

Janine sighed and cut her eyes over to Cassie in a gesture that clearly said can you believe this bitch?

"I can look into it," Cass offered. "Sundays are my lazy days."

"No, no, no. Stacy can handle it, right?"

The willowy red head nodded. "Right-o, Mama Neenie."

Janine hid her sigh behind another swallow of wine. "Come on, girls, let's clean this place up."

-O-

Never had the sound of a fork against a champagne flute seemed so loud. But Ava couldn't take the gesture back and, as if by magic, the noise in the room died down to only the softest of sounds like the rustling of many bird wings. The jazz was cut off abruptly. And to her horror, all eyes swiveled in her direction.

She was on the dance floor, backed up against the table where the DJ was working, his mic in the hand that still held the fork. This is it. She took a deep breath, reminded herself that she knew this toast inside and out, and then she scanned the crowd and saw her best friend beaming at her and the stage fright started to melt away.

At the table beside Caro, her parents sat with the other bridesmaids, Caro's first cousins – all tiny, adorable Korean girls with flawless skin and perfectly shiny black hair. The Kims had always been so sweet to Ava growing up; oblivious to the SAMCRO vs. town politics that went on in Charming.

Back at her table, Ava saw her mother and Carter watching her. Carter made a stupid face. She could do this.

"I met Caroline in ninth grade," she began, and felt a warm smile take the last of her nerves away. "She had this huge skunk stripe of purple in her hair and she wanted to know where I got my 'amazing' AC/DC original concert shirt."

There was a soft murmur of laughter, though she noticed that most of Josh's family was silent. Oh well, this toast was for Caro, not the in-laws.

"Since then, she's been the best friend a girl could ask for. She's kind and loyal, patient when she shouldn't be, inappropriate when she definitely shouldn't be," more laughter, louder this time ", and I have no idea how she's put up with me all these years." For the first time, emotion took a strong hold of her throat, tightening her words and bringing tears to the backs of her eyes. "Caro, you were there for me through all my dark times, even the darkest, and I can't tell you how lucky I feel to have had you there with me."

Caroline dabbed at her eyes.

"I love you, girl, and I'm so glad you've joined the old married ladies club. You landed a good one with Josh," okay, this was getting too cheesy even for her, but still… "I hate that he's stealing you away home to Kansas," more laughter ",but you know I'm so happy for you."

Ava lifted her glass high and watched the other guests do the same. "So here's to you, Caroline and Josh. Wherever love takes you, and whatever life throws at you, don't forget to say 'I love you', because it's amazingly hard to find someone who loves you enough to say it and mean it."

-O-

Cassie wiped her hands dry on a dish rag and surveyed the kitchen. With Janine directing, the mess had disappeared quickly. Cass and the other girls, a couple of which were sweetbutts and a few other Old Ladies she hadn't ever spent much time with, worked well together even if not always willingly on some of their parts. When Stacy started whining again, this time about her feet hurting, Cassie excused herself and went to check on Luc.

The men and the kids had traded places; all the Sons now on the back deck with cigars and the kids were camped out on the couch and the floor in front of the tube.

"Hi, sweetie," she propped her elbows on the back of the chair he was sitting in and leaned over it. "How's the leg?"

Her five-year old son gyrated the ankle of the leg that was fresh out of its cast, "Fine, see? I so coulda played with the older kids 'stead of stayin' on the deck playin' Thomas the Tank Engine with Cleanser Boy."

"Excuse me?" Cassie's eyes followed Luc's nod towards where April and Boone's four-year old son lay curled up on the couch sleeping.

"His name's Ajax, Mom. Come on! It's what his brothers call 'im. He totally doesn't even care."

The kid did have a valid point. April – not her real name, but rather her month of birth – was Greek and her choice of husband, a non-Greek first and an outlaw biker second, had so upset her family that she'd apparently tried to kiss-ass by naming the grandkids in Greek tradition. Hence; Declan, Nikos and Cleanser Boy. Cassie shook her head in wonder while, seated in front of her, Luc yawned. "We should get going," she said, glancing at her watch ", it's after nine."

"Aw, come on Mom… twenty more minutes… this show will be over." Luc had his head pitched back and she could see him staring at her from the tops of his green eyes, pleading.

Just as an on-screen explosion grabbed Lucas' attention, the sudden feel of a hard body sidling up against her from behind grabbed Cassie's. A smile flickered across her lips as a familiar hand rested on her hip and chin propped on her shoulder. Koz mimicked ", come on Mommy, please!" with a chuckle.

She sighed. "As soon as the show is over we're leaving, alright Lucas?" The little boy nodded, eyes glued to the television. She felt Koz straighten his stance and take a step back, giving her room to do the same. At a nod of his head, she followed him into the hall off the living room.

With the world outside the house finally settling down for the night, the hall was lit only by the soft, butter-yellow glow of a small lamp on a decorative table. As Cassie put her back to the wall, Koz stepped in front of her, eclipsing the lamplight, a tall, broad-shouldered shadow who moved in close enough to make their position look much-too-intimate if someone stumbled upon them. But no one did, and she thought the casual way he propped a hand on the wall beside her head was sexy as hell. Her shoulders subconsciously came away from the wall and her head tipped back, feeling pulled to him like she was a loose handful of rusty nails and he was one hell of a magnet.

He cocked his head and smiled. "Having a good time?"

"Having a great time. You know I like your friends... I just have to get Luc home. It's past bedtime and he needs a bath , which will likely get put off until the morning anyway." She shrugged. He was figuring out how that whole bedtime/bath routine went down, and knew it didn't always go as planned.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be tied up here for a while yet."

"Okay. Should I expect you or..?"

"Whatdaya think?" the look on his face, the tone and little twist to his grin left little to ponder.

"I think you're at my house enough to qualify for an official address change."

He tsked against the inside of his cheek in mock disapproval, the light in his eyes giving away what his non-response of "yeah" didn't. Then he smiled, leaned down to press a quick, but hot kiss to her mouth, and pulled back just a fraction. Far enough to say ", see ya soon," in a way that left her stomach feeling tight.

-O-

"Aw, where's the dress?"

Ava jumped about a foot as she jerked away from the open fridge she'd been peering into. Her hand fluttered over her thumping heart. She'd recognized the voice the instant she'd heard it, but hadn't been able to control her startle reflex.

Her hubby was sneakier than he used to be; a little quieter, a little lighter on his feet. When he wanted to be. Juice was propped up in the shadowy doorway of the kitchen and his smile proved that he'd been sneaking on purpose this time

"Jerk," she muttered, but grinned as she went groping through the various takeout containers again. She found a box of Chinese that was new – obviously he and Chibs' dinner from earlier – and pulled it out, swinging by the utensil drawer to grab a fork.

He chuckled and came into the room, flipping on the overhead lamp. The light blasted through the colored glass panels and like always it made Ava smile, looking at the alternating roses and skulls that decorated the sides.

"Missing it already?" she asked. She was in green running shorts and a white tank top. "They demanded I strip the thing off the moment the limo pulled away. Josh's mother actually wanted me to change behind a potted tree to save the time it would take of going into the bathroom.

Juice laughed and reached toward the box of Mongolian beef she was digging through. She passed it and the fork over. He took a bite and passed it back. "Didn't they feed you guys?"

"Just appetizers. I'm freakin' starving," she said, twirling the strands of green onions clumped up with rice around the fork before popping it in her mouth.

"You sad?"

She sighed and twitched a smile. "Yeah. Damn…I can't believe she's moving to Kansas."

Juice's smile was one of those he saved for when they were alone and not SOA Old Man and Old Lady, but husband and wife. Friends. "You're gonna have to make some new girlfriends." He said only half joking, knowing how skeptical she was of outsiders, but that all the other Old Ladies were so much older than she was, not to mention some of them related to her, that it felt too much like family sometimes and not like a buddy who had her back. She had no one she considered a sister. Except Caro, who would soon be moving halfway across the country.

"Says who?" she asked anyway.

"Says me. The fact that I know exactly what color 'Lacey Lilac' is, is a problem."

"Touché." She chuckled before popping another bite into her mouth. "What did you and Dad do?"

He shrugged. "Watched TV."

"Was there a game on?"

"Nope."

If she hadn't caught him watching it before, she wouldn't have teased, but she had… "You didn't happen to learn how to cook a meal in, say…thirty minutes, did you?" she asked innocently, barely containing her grin.

God love him, but after all they'd been through, the man could still actually blush. "Why do ya gotta give me such a hard time about that, huh?"

"'Cause you looooove Rachael Ray and I think it's cute."

"I only watch it for her ass," he clarified, eyes wide with sincerity. "I don't plan on cooking anything, just so you know."

Ava chuckled and stabbed another hunk of cold meat with her fork. "What would you do if I was that perky?"

"Have you committed. No one should be that perky."

"If I was to say that this Mongolian beef was 'yummo', would that turn you on?"

He gave her a dead look for a moment. "You really are terrible." He shook his head, sighed. "Sooo, change of subject," he switched gears awkwardly. "I finally got all the details hammered out for next weekend."

Ava's eyes widened and she pushed the slimy takeout away. "You did?"

"Yep." He looked proud of himself. "We'll overnight Friday at the Salt Lake clubhouse, which," he shrugged ", is gonna be tight but Rev's Old Lady swears they can lodge us all. And then Saturday night we're in the cabins at the saloon. We're in cabin six with - get this – Carter, Tux, Mayday, RJ from Tacoma, and Koz plus one." He frowned. "Plus one? Is he planning on picking someone up driving down Main Street?"

Ava's grin widened. She knew exactly who his 'plus one' was. She pointed to the glass Tiffany lamp above them. "Plus one," she said. "You honestly think Koz picked out this gorgeous lamp himself?"

He glanced up at their wedding gift that had shipped special delivery from Tacoma. "Um…"

"The girl he's been seeing. Ms. 'Ho-ly Shit'. Cassie."

He still looked puzzled.

Ava sighed. "Well, trust me, this is a real girl he's bringing along. Ten months together and now Sturgis? He's got it bad."

One of Juice's more dazzling smiles slowly broke across his face. "Oh, I'm so gonna give him shit about this."

-O-

It was twenty till midnight when Koz finally rolled into the driveway of 2808 Vulcante Lane. Like Glen and Janine, Cassie and her son lived in North Tacoma. The North End was a broad term for an area that was comprised of a patchwork of eight smaller, more distinct middle to upper class neighborhoods. It had taken some getting used to, but Koz was finally feeling at home in this deplorably domestic setting. Idling his Dyna Glide, he hit the remote entry code on his key ring and the garage door quietly began to rise. He pulled the bike in and parked it in the empty spot next to Cassie's Maxima. Hanging his helmet from the handlebars, he glanced over at where Luc's battery operated pint-sized Harley sat parked. Shaking his head, he thought, a year ago, bedroom communities and single family homes with two-and-a-half car garages containing kids toys would have sent him running... and now, it was unsettling just how much he couldn't imagine himself anywhere but.

The door leading into the house opened as Cassie entered the garage, a large basket full of freshly cut roses and her gardening sheers in her arms. "I thought I heard the bike," she said, setting the basket on her gardening bench and pulling off her gloves.

He chuckled ", kinda hard not to," then raised an eyebrow. "Um, midnight in the garden?"

"Of Good and Evil. Pretty good book."

"Saw the movie. Kevin Spacey, right?"

"Yeah," she gestured to the basket and the wet splotches down the fronts of her jeans. "I was out back doing my watering…damn water restrictions have me doing this shit under the cover of darkness." As if her own conscious was guilty, she glanced up at him before he could comment. "Do not give me that look. City council can pound sand. I've invested time and energy and love and money into my back yard oasis... and my flower beds. They will not be let to shrivel up and die on my watch."

Again Koz shook his head. "Pound sand, hmm?" She nodded, turning her attention to snipping the roses and arranging them in a vase she'd pulled off a lower shelf of the bench. He had to admit, she was right, though, gardening was a hobby that bordered on obsession for Cassie. When he'd met her in early October , the yard had been full of fall flowers. When the weather turned cold, he'd assumed that was the end of the flowers, but he'd since learned that winter was nothing but the beginning of prep for the next year. Cassie had spent hours cleaning the flower beds that surround the house and planting bulbs. She'd tried to explain what was what and how these would bloom in Spring, and those wouldn't come up until Summer and voiced hostile worry over certain wildlife digging up and making off with her precious bulbs. The lesson in flora and fauna hadn't interested him at all but he had enjoyed staring at her ass for hours. And the bulbs, as promised, bloomed and even he had to admit they made the place look nice. He chuckled "I'd gladly pay your fine just to laugh over the fact that my girl got busted for unlawful use of water."

"Five hundred bucks plus court costs for each infraction, and they use the three-strikes system, so apparently jail time could result."

"Holy fuck…well, water your plants in stealth-mode at least 'til after Sturgis, a'ight?"

"Sure thing, baby."

Koz walked over and leaned against the counter where Cassie was working. "Speaking of, Janine has apparently been talking you up to Glen, how helpful you've been in organizing shit for the run… it's appreciated."

"I don't mind helpin', makes me feel… useful. Not like just some decorative piece. And while Janine is a sweetheart, I wouldn't underestimate her capacity for vengeance, but then I don't plan on trying her," she smiled. "You're welcome. Besides I'm just -," she paused, and her hands stilled on the flowers she'd been arranging. Koz got the distinct impression she was searching for the proper words that would best convey what she wanted to tell him. She had a habit of biting down on the left corner of her bottom lip when she was mulling over something. Finally, her fingers took up the rose stems again. "I'm glad you asked me to ride out with you. You wanting me along means a lot"

As was usual with her, she'd said the exact right thing when it came to the club. He wasn't sure if the game was that transparent, or if she was just that sharp - but he was betting on the latter. "So you're excited." He smiled, knowing that she was in that reserved away that he equally appreciated and adored.

She nodded, trimming another stem and placing the rose amongst the others in the large glass vase. "Yes, but honestly more than a little nervous. I get on with a majority of everyone here in Tacoma, but what about the other charters? And your niece? What if she hates me, right?"

Koz sighed. He knew that Cassie – realizing how the club and the all-important small concentration of certain folks down in a place called Charming constituted the end-all-be-all of his near and dear – was stressed about how she'd be received by said certain folks. This was the equivalent of taking her home to meet his parents, which he didn't have – at least not in the figurative sense – and she wanted to make the best impression possible. An image of Ava and Mags standing shoulder-to-shoulder, arms folded, popped into his head and he couldn't really blame her, though he'd never admit to it. "You worry too much." There, that settled that. He was feeling pretty satisfied with his answer, staring blankly at the garage door, when she hissed loudly.

"Shit! Ouch!" She winced, pulling her hand away from the roses and examining the red welt of blood forming where a thorn had pricked her index finger. "That one got me good... the last damn flower too... figures."

Turning sideways and peering over her shoulder, Koz nodded. "Lemme see." He grasped the hand she held out, lightly about the wrist, eyed the cut and then raised it towards his mouth.

"It's bleeding, Koz".

"A lil' blood don't bother me." With a devilish gleam in his eye, he parted his lips and sucked the tip of her injured finger between them. He heard her breath falter and felt her other hand, the one he wasn't currently manipulating orally, grasp tightly at front of his t-shirt, a quiet moan escaping her lips. Feeling stirrings of his own south of the border, he pulled her finger from his mouth. "Gonna need a Band-aid."

Cassie nodded, eyes large, liquid, and telling him exactly how turned on she was. "Upstairs, hall closet." Taking him by the hand, she led the way inside.

Koz reached to the left of the door as they passed through and flipped the light switch, the one right above first-aid kit. The garage was plunged into darkness behind them.

-O-

"Night, sweet boy."

He was asleep, on his back with his hands up by his head, face turned to the side; beautiful and perfect and making her heart throb with the most satisfying sense of love and adoration. "Sleep tight, Sammy. I love you," Ava cooed one more time, barely stroking her fingertip across his cheek. She hated the nights she didn't get to put him to bed.

Juice had lingered in the doorway a moment, but she felt his hands slide around her waist as she straightened from the crib. He pulled her back tight against him, kissed the side of her neck. "You really ready for another one?"

Ava had read in one of those whimsical, full-of-themselves novels something about the difference between loving something and knowing why you loved it. She wasn't sure it made it all the stronger than what she'd had before, but it made it more concrete, more solid in her head and heart – she knew exactly each and every reason she loved Juice, the same way she knew all the lines that crinkled in the corners of his eyes and each ragged callus on his hands. She understood it, them, like she did all her favorite books and poems, with a comprehension that was downright scientific, but tinged with a soft fuzziness that left her insides gummy. That shit was titanium. Her answer now was the same as it had been since he'd first asked the question.

She folded her hands over his, fingers ghosting over all his rings, landing on the smooth, plain silver band that was her very favorite. Screw garden parties and toasts and poofy dresses – she had her boys. "Yeah," she turned her head sideways and then his mouth was against the corner of hers. "I really am."

TBC