"We need more. The members are too loyal, they won't turn. We've tried to plant a few guys in as prospects, but they never make it to patched status. They'll close us down if we can't start providing some sort of intel." Mark Brown said as he threw his stress ball at the wall in frustration.
"What about a woman?" Harold asked, picking up the ball as it rolled to his feet and throwing it in the air before catching it.
"A woman? We tried that too – these guys are the tap it and toss it type. There's too many hot and eager to please ladies that come and go through those doors – none of them seem to want to settle down. And even if they did, who knows how much they would tell their bedmate?' Mark replied.
"I've heard that there was a girl that got to one of the Texas charters of the Bloody Rebels – we never thought we'd be able to crack them. She spent 3 years with them, living as the old lady of the SAA. Three quarters of that charter are in the big house now, with charges being brought up every day on members all over the country. Maybe it is possible that a woman could get in close enough." The new guy, Andy, spoke up for the first time.
"For real? That was because of a chick?" Mark asked as he eyed Andy speculatively.
"That's the rumor. I think the higher ups want to keep it pretty quiet so as not to endanger any other operations that might be in progress. I mean, who knows? Guys get pretty stupid over pussy. Should I look into it and see what I can find out?" Andy asked, stretching his long legs out from under the cramped desk. Mark and Harold shared a quick look.
"Yeah. Find out what you can. Might as well try every last avenue before we quit." Andy immediately headed for the door at Mark's go ahead.
"Well, I'm going to pack it in for the day. My wife is pissed that I haven't been home before dinner all week." Harold said, grabbing his keys off the desk as Mark gave a distracted wave and nod of his head. Hearing the door close, he slid his crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Inhaling deeply, he stared at the wall as if willing answers to come from the pictures that adorned it. Almost subconsciously, Mark started naming them off one by one. "Juan Carlos Ortiz. Opie Winston. Philip Teleford. Alexander Trager. Bobby Munson. Piney Winston. Jax Teller. Clay Morrow."
A week later, as Mark entered the California building of the FBI, the receptionist called out to him. "Mark, there was a woman here to see you earlier." Mark looked at her in surprise and approached her desk, running his hand through his hair and subconsciously smoothing his rumpled shirt.
"A woman? For me?" He asked in confusion. As long as he'd been here working on the Sons of Anarchy case, he'd never had a single visitor other than his direct supervisor.
"Well, it was a woman and she wanted to talk to you – but I don't think she's "for you". The receptionist returned with a smile . Mark nodded his head.
"Of course, I didn't mean... oh, you know what I meant Rosalie! Is she still here?" He asked, looking around for the mysterious woman.
"No, she said she'd be back later. When she returns, should I just send her up to you?" Rosalie smiled up at Mark. In the last six months, she'd developed quite the crush on him. He was one of the few agents who had bothered to learn her name and she loved the way he smiled when he saw her. She'd been trying to work up the courage to ask him out for awhile now.
"Yeah, that would be great, thank you." Mark patted the receptionist desk without noticing before heading for the elevator. "Oh, and Rosalie?" He stopped and turned to look at her for a moment "You look really pretty today." He turned to head up to his office without noticing the grin that spread across her face.
"So, who do you think the woman is?" Harold asked Mark an hour later when he could no longer stand the bouncing of the stress ball.
"I have no idea. I'm more concerned with what she wants." A knock on the door interrupted their musings. Harold raised his eyebrows at Mark as he went to open the door.
"Hi, Mark Brown?" The young woman standing in the door asked, reaching to shake Harold's hand.
"Uh, hi. Um, no, I'm Harold. This is uh, this is Mark." Harold stammered, waving in the general direction of Mark. Harold didn't know what kind of woman he'd been expecting, but this sure as hell wasn't it. She was small, maybe standing 5'2 with shiny dark brown hair that fell halfway down her back. Big blue-green eyes were framed by long, dark lashes that complemented her lightly tanned skin. A white button up shirt was tucked into straight black pants that were a on the tight side of work appropriate. Suede black ankle books completed the ensemble. Mark cleared his throat to say hello, extending his suddenly sweaty palm. Shit, this was maybe the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in real life.
"Hi Mark. I'm Jamie McAllister. I hear that you've been looking into me, so I thought the polite thing to do would be to come down and introduce myself." Although her smile was bright, there was a mild edge to her voice. Mark immediately racked his brain. He'd been looking into her? He didn't remember looking into any women, and there was no way that he'd ever forget having seen her before.
"Um, I,think there might be a misunderstanding here, Ms. McAllister. I don't even know who you are, much less enough to be asking questions about you." She raised her eyebrows at that and walked past him, perusing the pictures on the wall. "Excuse me, Miss, can I help you with something?" Mark asked in confusion.
"I think the correct question is, is there something I can help you with Mark?" She tapped the photo of a middle aged man with short white hair, blue eyes and a big build. "You're going after the mother charter of the Sons of Anarchy. You can't find a way in – my guess is that they've thrown out every badge you've tried to get in through prospecting. You've attempted to get a woman in there, but, well, they just don't work out, do they? The gang unit is getting restless and thinking of taking you off the case." The glanced around at the small room, noticing everything. " You've been on the job, what, 6 months or so? You know they're running guns, not to mention their town of Charming, California. You just can't prove it. So your newest recruit mentioned to you last week that he'd heard of a woman who got in close with a MC in Texas and the whole thing turned out rather well." She turned her head, flicking her hair over her shoulder and asked with an impish grin "How am I doing so far?" she asked.
Mark cleared his throat. "Rather too well." he managed.
Jaime raised an eyebrow before continuing, "So your guy started asking questions and it went around the grapevine and eventually my people heard about it and mentioned it to me. Which is why I'm here. Now, I'm going to tell you how this is going to go down." Jamie turned around so she was facing the two men and put her hands on her hips.
"Expect this to take time. Rome wasn't built in a day, and motorcycle gangs don't fall in a month. I'll be the one in the thick of it, so I have just as much say operationally as you do. If you give me a task and I think it's going to be detrimental to the long term plan or will get someone killed, I won't do it. I don't wear a wire. You'll have to trust me. I won't have contact with you every day. Sometimes not every week. We are never seen together. You never call me, I'll call you from a prepay that will never ring. You never step foot in Charming without my knowing about it beforehand. You, Harold, your new recruit and my boss are the only ones who know that I'm there. There will be no bragging to your buddies when you're out at the pub, no telling anyone in the FBI, nor any other government organization. You do not go looking into my past. I never sleep with colleagues. Are we clear?" Jamie crossed her arms as she finished. Mark barely managed a nod. "Good. I'll be here tomorrow morning so we can start our plan. I drive into Charming on Saturday, so you'd better be ready to prep me on everything that I need to know. I have to go, I'm late to meet a friend." With that, she walked out of the room.
Mark and Harold looked at each other dumbfounded for a minute before smiles spread across their faces. With that little firecracker on their side, how could they not put an end to the Sons?
Jamie had been in Charming for less than a month and was happy with the way things were going. She'd found a job waiting tables at one of the two pubs in Charming, Joe's. Although The Hairy Dog was busier and she would have made more money, Jamie was aware that Ernest Darby frequented the pub on a regular basis and was not a friend of the Sons. She figured that the chances of any of them heading there for a drink were slim to none – if they even left the clubhouse in the evening which remained to be seen. So, Jamie had applied at Joe's and was granted the job immediately. With the job lined up, Jamie only had to find a place to live as the motel was getting a bit stifling. Again, it seemed as though the universe was on her side and she found a cozy one bedroom apartment five blocks from her work. With the basics covered, she could start the job that she'd really come here for. Although she'd seen the club members riding their motorcycles around town, she had yet to actually talk to one of them. Mark was getting anxious and was urging her to bring her beaten up Honda into the Teller-Morrow garage for some work. Jamie refused, believing it to be too coincidental that she would take her car there. Sure, if all she wanted was a quick screw with one of the boys, that would work fine. But that's not why she was here. She stuck to her guns, firm in her belief that in order to eventually become an old lady, one of the Sons had to approach her first.
Jamie popped into a convenience store on her way to work to buy some cigarettes and gum. Although she wasn't a habitual smoker, she was well aware of the social connections that were made while out getting "a breath of fresh air". As she paid for her purchase, she heard the door chime as it opened and automatically looked up to see a man with short, curly black hair and bright blue eyes walk in wearing a Sons of Anarchy kutte. "Alexander 'Tig' Trager" Jamie thought to herself. Flashing him a quick smile, she accepted her change and headed towards the door.
"Hi there, doll face." The man spoke as he backed up to open the door for her.
"Hey" she replied, making eye contact briefly before reaching for the door.
"Where are you off to in such a rush?" He asked, raking his eyes down her body.
"I've got to get to work." Jamie was well aware that she had at least fifteen minutes to walk the the 3 blocks to the pub, but she didn't want to make small talk with Tig – she wanted the club to come to her. She checked her watch and gave a small gasp. "Oh fuck, Joe's going to kill me if I'm late." Hurrying through the door, she stopped to look back and gave the Seargent At Arms a small wave before continuing down the street. Tig stared at her as she quickly walked away, enjoying the sight of her bouncing hair and swaying hips.
"Damn. That is one fine piece of ass." He muttered to himself as went back in the store. "Hey, Charlie who is that girl?" he asked the clerk.
Charlie gave him a knowing look. "That, my friend, is Jamie. She's something, eh?" Tig craned his neck around trying to catch another glimpse of her through the window.
"Yeah. Pretty hot. I've never seen her before. She in here a lot?" Tig asked, trying to understand how he'd never noticed the fresh meat in Charming.
"At least every couple of days. She just moved here, oh, must have been about a month ago now." Charlie replied, grabbing the brand of cigarettes that he knew Tig liked.
"Huh. She works at Joe's?" At Charlie's nod, Tig paid for his cigarettes and headed out the door, looking down the street in the direction of Joe's Pub.
Jamie was wiping down the bar at Joe's later that night, wondering if the Sons were going to make an appearance. Tig had certainly looked interested earlier in the afternoon, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Hearing the door chime, she automatically looked up as the entire club walked through the door as though they owned the place. She smiled to herself and waited for them to pull two tables together and sit down before heading over.
"Hey guys, I'm Jamie, I'm going to be your server tonight. Can I get you all started with something to drink?" She asked, running her hand through her hair and offering them a big smile before passing around the menus.
"Oh,doll, you've already got me started, but I'll take a beer too." Tig answered her, a devilish gleam in his eye.
With a slight roll of her eyes at the cheesiness of Tig's answer, she replied, "Ok, anyone else?" She asked. She could feel the eyes of all the men on her, sizing her up as they made their requests. Jamie was glad that the pub's uniform consisted of a short black skirt that showed off her golden legs, a black wide strap tank top and black boots with a heel. She didn't want to appear trashy, but she did want them to notice her.
"I'll be right back with your drinks" Jamie said, aware of everyone's eyes on her ass as she walked away.
Tig elbowed his vice president in the chest, saying "See? What did I tell you? When was the last time you saw a piece of ass that hot?"
"You were not wrong, brother. She's something all right." Jax replied, admiration in his gruff voice as he intently studied the petite woman loading her tray up with their drinks before heading back towards their table, her bicep muscle showing under the strain of the heavy tray.
"Here we are boys! Can I get some food started for you or are we strictly sticking to beverages tonight?" Jamie asked as she walked around the table dropping off their drinks.
"Oh, no, I'm positively ravished tonight doll. Maybe you can help me out with that?" Tig asked with a leer.
"Absolutely." Jamie replied, giving him a megawatt smile. "The steak sandwich is on special tonight, want to give it a go?"
"That's not exactly what I had in mind..." Tig responded, reaching his hand to her waist to draw her closer. Jamie stepped back out of his reach only to find that her bare leg had brushed against Jax's dangling hand right below her knee. He gave her a panty dropping smile and lightly rubbed his thumb along her smooth skin. Jamie tried to step back, but Jax gripped her leg, looking up at her with innocent blue eyes. "But I suppose it will do. Medium rare with fries and gravy. A side of mayo to boot." Tig continued, unaware of the silent power struggle that was starting between Jamie and Jax.
"You got it." Jamie replied and looked expectantly to Tig's left at a man with longish grey hair and scars on his face. Jax continued to stroke her leg, gently teasing the sensitive skin behind her knee. Jamie made another try at backing away, but the grip on her leg tightened and she nearly lost her balance. Realizing that unless she made a scene, there wasn't much choice other than to ignore the talented fingers, Jamie resigned herself to standing completely still. She did allow herself a glance down at the blonde, ready to give him a scorching look, but he was looking at another member and laughing at something he'd said. Instead, she listened attentively as everyone took their turn giving their orders before coming to Jax who just looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. "What can I get for you?" Jamie asked, annoyance creeping into her tone.
"I'll have a burger with everything on it, hold the tomatoes, fries, mayo, and gravy." Jax answered, smiling. Jamie nodded and went to turn away, sure Jax would let her go finally, but his grip tightened one more time. "Don't you want to write it all down there, darlin'? That's a lot to remember" He teased her, finally releasing her leg with one last squeeze.
Jamie gave him a long look before the corner of mouth turned up in a smile. "Don't worry your pretty head about me. Notepads are for pussies." With that, she left the table to the sound of the Sons laughing.
The pub had pretty much cleared out and the food still wasn't ready for the Sons. Jamie could see that they were getting restless and she was getting annoyed. They wouldn't come back if they weren't happy with the service. She'd already been by three times for fresh rounds of beer, but she didn't want to go back empty handed again. Sighing to herself, she asked Brian, the bartender to pour her 8 shots of tequila. He'd argued at first, knowing that they hadn't ordered it.
"Seriously? You're going to give me grief about this? They've been waiting over forty minutes for their food, and you're upset about a little tequila?" Jamie asked incredulously.
"Look, Jamie, I know you're new and don't necessarily know the way it works around here, but we never give away free alcohol. It's unfortunate that they're food is taking a long time, but life's rough." Brian replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Jamie looked at him for a moment, thinking that he could be a real dick.
"Fine. Have it your way." She said, taking her wallet out of her apron and putting three bills on the counter. "Now, pour me eight shots of tequila."
Jamie headed over to the Sons "Guys, I'm sorry the food is taking so long, these are on the house with our apologies." She raised her tray of shots to illustrate.
"Yah! Right here, doll face!" Tig exclaimed, pointing to the table in front of him.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jamie laughed as she hurried around the table putting the shots down.
Tig couldn't resist, "Not yet you're not doll, but you sure as hell will be when you come home with me later." The table quieted as Jamie came to a sudden stop across the table from Tig. Jax started to say something, knowing that Tig had finally pushed her good humor too far, but a look from Jamie made the words die in his throat.
Jamie had had enough. She slowly put all but one of the shots down, motioning for the Sons to grab them themselves. Slipping the tray between her legs, she leaned forwards, sliding the last shot towards Tig, but kept it between her left thumb and forefinger. The table was wide enough that Jamie had to stand at the edge and bend over it in order to come close to Tig. Which she did, laying her elbows on the centre of the table and looking up, knowing that the pose was making her breasts strain against the thin material of her tank top.
Sitting next to Tig, Jax was afforded the same view of Jamie's spectacular cleavage practically in his face. "Come to Pappa" Tig muttered, not even bothering to try and look up at her face. Jamie exhaled loudly, shaking her head slightly and was surprised to see the Vice President staring intently at her face. Really looking at him for the first time, Jamie's breath caught. She'd seen dozens of pictures of him, but none of them did him justice. The sky blue eyes were filled with good humour his and blonde hair fell just short of his shoulders. As a rule, Jamie couldn't stand facial hair, but somehow it added to Jax's appeal. To be honest, the man simply screamed sex. Hot sex.
Jax had known from the second he saw her that she was beautiful, but seeing her up close he felt his jeans tighten. He'd spared a quick glance at the cleavage that was on display in front of him, but he was more interested in what was above it. Her dark hair fell in long layers around her face, making his hand twitch with the urge to run his fingers through it. Her complexion was clear and lightly tanned, her high cheekbones and perfectly sculpted eyebrows accentuating her eyes. He'd never seen eyes like hers before - they were turquoise, almost like the colour of the ocean in the Caribbean and slightly slanted. What surprised him most though was the keen intelligence that he saw there.
"So, doll, what's your name?" Jamie asked, putting two fingers under Tig's chin and raising his head to look at her face.
"Tig" he replied, looking slightly chastised.
"Well, Tig, I think it's about time we lay out a few ground rules. Sound good?" Not waiting for an answer, Jamie continued, "For starters, you and me are not going to happen. Now, we can go about this two ways. Either you can be pissed about that, leave me a shitty tip and we'll both move on with our lives."
Jax noticed Juice, who was sitting right across from him staring in awe at Jamie's perky ass which was laid out right next to him with the way she was leaning over the table. Juice raised a hand and Jax shook his head warningly, mouthing "NO" at Juice.
Jamie caught Jax's shake of the head and correctly guessed what was going on. "You okay back there, kiddo? I gotta warn you, you can look at my ass all you like, but if you so much as lay a finger on it, we're going to have some problems. We clear?" Jamie raised her voice as she spoke to Juice, never taking her eyes off of Tig.
"Uh, yeah. We're, uh, we're clear." Juice stammered, looking at Jax and pointing to Jamie's posterior mouthing, "Wow".
"What's the second option?' Tig asked.
"I'm glad you asked. We can be good friends, make as many dirty comments as we want, hang out and have fun. But, we'll both know that it doesn't go any further. Oh, and you can leave me a phenomenal tip for putting up with you tonight. So, what's it going to be Tig?" Jamie finished up, biting her bottom lip as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, baby, we're going to get along just great as friends. As a matter of fact, you should come sit on my lap - I have something that wants to be good friends with you too." Tig replied with a smile, reaching for his shot. Jamie smirked and raised his glass to her lips.
"You couldn't handle me, Tigger." She said before downing his shot and standing up to hoots and hollers. It was at that moment that her friendship with SAMCRO started.
Walking home later that night, Jamie smiled to herself. The night had gone perfectly. She was on a first name basis with everyone in the club, had been invited to their party this Friday night and had held her own against all the sexual innuendo flying around. Not to mention the great tip the Sons had left her. Once Tig understood her rules, the night had flown by with a lot of laughter. She had some serious thinking to do. Originally, she'd thought that Juice would be her best bet to try and insinuate herself with. Not only was he fairly young, but being the computer expert for the club could only be a good thing. After watching them all tonight though, she'd realized that Juice was a bit of a joke with the other members, not to mention a lot more immature than she'd like. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep up the acting gig of being madly in love with him for as long as it took - and with him being so low on the totem pole, it could be a very long time. "There's always Opie" Jamie mused to herself, but immediately disregarded the thought. It was obvious from the way he talked that he loved his wife, Donna, and Jamie may be a lot of things, but homewrecker wasn't one of them. Besides, she was pretty sure he was distancing himself from the club and she needed someone in the thick of it. Bobby Munson was out, nobody would ever believe that she was honestly in love with him. Filip "Chibs" Teleford was likely the link to the IRA gun smuggling and therefore a good mark, but he was older which brought the same suspicions as with Bobby. Jamie was also sure that Chibs would never speak freely about club business with a woman. Men who raised by the IRA weren't known for pillow talk after getting their nut on. Piney Winston was a no. Tig had already been ruled out, and Jamie was pretty sure that after tonight they would have a good friendship, which would come in handy when the time came to meld into the club's fold. Jamie wasn't stupid, she would never try for the president even if she didn't know that he was fiercely loyal to his wife, Gemma. What happens on a run may stay on a run, but Clay would never flash his road pussy in Charming, which she wasn't going to be anyways. "The prospect..." she murmured to herself, knowing that train of thought was pointless but not wanting to name the last member. She sighed as she opened her door and dropped her bag on the small table just inside her apartment before pouring herself a glass of her favourite red.
Once she was sitting on the couch with her legs curled under her, Jamie finally allowed herself to think of the vice president. She would normally never try for an officer - the SAA of the Bloody Rebels had pretty much fallen into her lap, much to her surprise and in all honesty, it had gone against her better judgement. Officers were smart and ruthless. Had her previous mark ever have even entertained the thought that she might be a plant, she'd have been dead and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere. Sipping her wine, Jamie acknowledged that it wasn't just that. There was something in the boyish grin he gave her, a flicker of innocence in his deep blue eyes that spoke to her. She had a hard time imagining him doing the things his club was known for. The fact that she got goose bumps when she remembered the feel of his calloused palm on her leg wasn't helping the situation either.