Chapter 1: Old Memories and New Ones

I was a bartender. My two years of community college didn't really do anything helpful, and didn't really prepare me for anything. So I moved to Charming. I thought it was a nice name for a town, and I always wanted to live in California to see what all the fuss was about. This was my life. I was a bartender, and I had even bought my own shop. It was complete with stripper poles in the background, a few back rooms, and fancy lights. I was a bartender and I had never even had a drink. I had never even taken a sip of alcohol. But I made them every day for bikers, bums, old guys, and sad, sad single people. I lived off tips. I had an apartment. And I was terribly, excruciatingly lonely.

My dad was an auto mechanic. Ever since I was little chubby girl he taught me how to fix up cars, motorcycles, you name it. He made me laugh every day. He even left me an old Harley, but I was never brave enough to ride it. Until I moved to Charming.

I remember it was unbearably hot that day. I was sick of making drinks all night and having nothing to do all day, so I looked for jobs at automotive service places. My car was nothing special. It was an old blue Taurus. I could tell people all over California were snickering at me. I checked places like Jiffy Lube, Big O' Tires, and O'Reilly Auto parts. (Lots of O's.) I would walk in to ask about an interview and some hunky dude would always say, "Oh sweetheart, you poor thing, do you need your oil changed?" or, "Are you lost? This isn't the mall. Have your husband come take care of your car needs." Needless to say, I had no luck that day.

So I went home that night, and decided that the next day, I would have to take a different approach. I was a damn lady, but tomorrow, I'd have to be a bit of a slut.

The next morning I put on a black fitting shirt, and a mini jean skirt. I straightened my unruly curly hair and I put on some red combat boots. It was the best I could do. I drove all around the area - no place was hiring. As I was driving, my air conditioning stopped working. This was sure to be another fantastically, horrible day. I rolled down the window and turned on the radio, which was playing "Bad Moon Rising" I blasted the song and started shouting out the window, "I GIVE UP. TAKE ME NOW LORD!" When suddenly, on the side of the rode, I saw a sign that read, "Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair." It looked a little shady, but I thought I'd go have a look. Maybe they were hiring, or just needed some day help. I dunno. Anyways, I decided to park my car on the curb and walk inside first. (I really didn't want them to laugh at my dumb grandma car.) As I walked up the driveway I noticed the very long line of big, black, beautiful Harley Davidsons parked along the edge. I stopped and stared for a minute. They reminded me of my dad. Then I remembered that Charming has a lot of MC's nearby. And if this garage was home to a motorcycle club, they definitely weren't hiring girls. And didn't want girls around there.

I turned on my heal very awkwardly and began to walk out when a gravelly voice called out,

"Do you need somethin' darlin'?"

He was a large, older man with an oxygen bag, and a worn out Levi cut. He looked sweet, wise, and, well, a little bit scary.

"Um, well, uh" Oh no. My voice was all squeaky and nervous. I tried to answer but I was just too shy. Too embarrassed.

"Piney! Bring her in here! I can take care of it, hun." A woman called from inside a little office building.

I smiled at Piney, who smiled back, and walked towards the door. Stepping inside, it was covered in papers, and girly magazines, I tried to hide the red in my face. Without looking up from the papers she was highlighting, the woman asked me, "Are you a new Crow Eater?"

"A-a-a what?" I stuttered out.

She looked up at me. This woman was fabulous. She had dark hair with highlights, she had a leather jacket, leather boots, and black eye-makeup. She was bad ass. And I mean Bad. Ass.

I was scared to death. But I thought about it for an awkward minute. I liked the motorcycles. I can fix motorcycles. I liked the smell of the gasoline and the fumes and everything. And I liked how nice Piney was. Finally she realized I was just an out-of-place, dumb little girl.

"Oh! Sorry," she chuckled, "You must be picking up a car? Or you need your car looked at? Oil changed?"

"No, actually, I, um, I have my automotive mechanic license. I just, well, I've been looking around for places that could use some extra helpful…hands?" The sentence I spurted out was hideous. Simply hideous. I had just embarrassed myself in front of this woman.

"You wanna work here? Sweetheart, this place is full of drunk, old, perverts!" She laughed. "But, I mean, if you know what you're doin', then, I don't know, maybe. How long have you been working with cars?" she asked.

"My whole life. My dad, he taught me everything a woman needs to know about cars, and then, everything a man needs to know."

She laughed out loud. I had made her laugh! I mentally high-fived myself. She stuck her hand out, "I'm Gemma."

I shook her hand and introduced myself, "I'm Tyler."

"Tyler is a boy's name, you know that right?" She chuckled.

"Well, my dad wanted me to be a boy." I answered. She laughed out loud again. My courage built up a bit, so I asked, "So, you guys are also a motorcycle club? My dad was part of one when I was little, but he never talked about it."

"Yep. Sons of Anarchy. Serving the town of Charming since 1967." She smiled. "Why don't you write down your number, and I will talk to my old man about hiring you here. How old're you hun?" She handed me a card.

"I'll be twenty three in a month."

"Twenty three? You're a damn baby!" She laughed again. "We'll give you a call and you can come over and show Clay what you can do. You're kinda cute so, he'll probably let you work here."

"Well, thank you so much, Gemma! It was nice to meet you." I shook her hand again and opened the door. "Oh, and um, what's Crow Eater?"

"Ha! I think you'll find out soon enough. See you later hun." I walked out and made my way down the driveway, smiling to myself. I had found myself a job. Maybe.

A gloved hand tapped me on the shoulder, and startled, I spun around. A young guy with tattoos on either side of his head smiled. "Did you get your car fixed up alright?" he asked.

I panicked. My eyes were wide. I looked at him for three seconds and blurted out,

"You know, my air conditioning stopped working while I was driving and I think I just need to check the drain line, or change the air filter, or maybe the air conditioner keeps tripping the circuit breaker, in which case I think I can just fix it myself so, no worries, but thank you, and uhm, yep, okay, bye, thank you, I'm gonna,…go, but uh, thanks."

And with that I stumbed back to my extremely hot car and rode away with a red face, hot with embarrassment and heat.

(So, this was my first attempt at a fanfiction. I will be adding more soon I hope!)