All characters, etc from Sons of Anarchy belong to Kurt Sutter.
Ashleigh Carter is my own small piece of warped imagination.
Any mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out but please be nice; and thank you to letmefallasleep for being the spark of inspiration for this story.
CHAPTER 1:
Clay and Tig were sat on their bikes on Charming Main Street watching the world get on with its business whilst they grabbed a sandwich. Since Clay had been forced down from the Presidency of SAMCRO the two had returned to a friendship, if a somewhat uneasy one at times. Tig was still angry with Clay for beating Gemma, but he was also still full of guilt for not being there to protect his President when he'd been shot by Opie. Being conflicted was nothing new for Tig though, so on the surface everything was continuing about as normally as it ever did for a MC running guns for the Real IRA and drugs for a Mexican drug cartel that were actually CIA agents.
Tig was watching a teenager in Daisy Dukes with a short pink t-shirt showing off her brown stomach when he noticed Clay sit up suddenly.
"What's up brother?"
Clay relaxed slightly, "Thought I'd seen a ghost for a moment. Take a look across the street."
Tig followed Clay's gaze and saw a woman walking down the street. Wearing a grey fitted shirt open at the neck, a black pencil skirt and black heels; she stood out in the relaxed lunch time human traffic. Her dark brown hair had lighter streaks and was carelessly curling past her shoulders: the midday sun glinted on a heavy silver bracelet on her wrist. Even though most of her face was covered by large, mirrored sunglasses Tig could see what had shocked Clay; the woman was the spitting image of Gemma Teller twenty years earlier. She even walked with the same self-assured strut.
"She doesn't look local."
"Worth keeping an eye on." Clay muttered. "Last time we saw a broad who looked anything like that it was that ATF bitch trying to rip us to pieces."
Tig just grunted in agreement. He didn't have the words to express the disdain he felt for all things law enforcement and particularly the puddle of diarrhoea known as the ATF.
Tig and Clay continued to watch the woman as she walked down the street. She walked into the deli and emerged five minutes later carrying what looked like a wrapped sandwich. She crossed the street, got into a silver Honda Civic and drove away. Clay had noted the licence plate before getting back to enjoying his own lunch.
Once they'd finished eating they headed back to the garage. Clay disappeared into the club house looking for Juice. Gemma was in today catching up on paperwork and he didn't feel like being glared at. He'd briefly considered joining the mechanics and doing a bit of tinkering, but his hands were bothering him and he didn't want everyone to see him struggling with the tools. He found Juice tapping merrily away at his lap top.
"Hey can you run a plate for me?"
"Sure thing: trouble in town?" Juice asked.
"I don't know, just got a funny feeling that something's heading our way. Nothing concrete."
Juice concentrated on hacking into a couple of databases whilst Clay grabbed a couple of beers from behind the bar. He popped the tops off both and passed one to Juice.
"It's a rental" Juice said scanning the screen. "Rented by a Mabel Merriwether, yesterday from Stockton Metro airport."
Clay coughed nearly spluttering beer all over Juice. "Mabel Merriwether?! Must be a tourist, sure didn't look like a 'Mabel' though."
"That all?"
"Yeah, for now." Clay muttered before taking his beer up to his dorm room. That woman hadn't looked like a tourist, and he wasn't sure who'd be taking a business trip to Charming. He had half a mind to do some more digging on the classy broad with the grandmother name and the rental car.
Tig was lounging around shooting the shit with a couple of the mechanics when Gemma came out of the office to stretch her legs and get some fresh air. She hated sorting the filing out, but if she didn't do it no one else would. She meandered over to Tig, rubbing the back of her neck to ease the knots. "How's it hanging?"
"Long and loose as always babe" Tig replied with his usual crooked smile. "Saw a babe in town today, the mirror image of you twenty years ago."
Gemma raised an eyebrow "And you didn't bring her back for a quick fuck?"
"Naw, you know what they say about things getting better with age darling."
"Hmmmm" Gemma gave Tig a half smile at his half-assed compliment, "You're on thin ice Trager, very thin ice." She turned and walked back to the office. "I'd quit while you're ahead." she flung over her shoulder making Tig grin. He knew Gemma wasn't really offended, well, not much.