A/N: Hello again! This is a teaser of my most recent venture. I don't wish to pester but reviews are crucial at this point as I am writing blind right now - I truly don't know what direction this one is going so please! Suggestions, criticism, comments - all welcome!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy, Happy or anything that you recognise from the franchise. That is all Kurt Sutter. I do, however, own Sage and Noah and basically anything that isn't familiar. This disclaimer applies to the entire story.
Without further ado, please enjoy!
Chapter 1
Happy Lowman posed a formidable figure as he leaned against his Harley, tattooed arms folded against his broad chest and dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Despite how relaxed he was feeling, he knew that to members of the general public, he looked positively threatening. The idea brought a smirk to his face. There was nothing wrong with people staying out of his way. In fact, he preferred it.
The beach was an odd place to find him. He was more than aware of that as surfers and holidaymakers alike stared at him on their way to the stairs that lead down the headland and to the sand. Albeit looking so out of place, he couldn't deny the freedom he felt when perched at the lookout. It was one of the few places from his childhood that he recalled with even a modicum of some emotion resembling happiness.
It had been his father that brought him there – the one blight on an otherwise unmarred location. He had been into some bad shit but his father had an unbridled passion for the ocean. Freedom, he called it.
It had seemed that the same passion was inherited in the son through his love of the open road, his own form of a perfect love – his own form of freedom that became even more precious after experiencing what it was like to lose it.
His various stints in numerous state penitentiaries may not have corrected his behavior and taught him to live as a law abiding citizen, however, they did teach him how imperative it was to never be careless enough to be caught again. He couldn't stand to go stir crazy in a cage with no access to the open road all because he wasn't careful enough. He was experienced enough that it shouldn't be a problem. All he really needed to worry about was other people's stupidity, he rationalized.
He pulled in a deep breath through his nose, relishing in the salt stained air, as he pushed himself away from the machine and lazily strolled to the safety railing. The headland looked out over two beaches, both to the left hand side and separated by shrub covered sand dunes. The closer of the two was less protected and catered for larger swell, making it less desirable to the tourists and a hit with the local surf culture.
Looking at the cheap watch on his wrist, Happy decided he had time for a closer look. He knew he didn't look like a surf fanatic – truthfully, he really wasn't – but he could appreciate a good board and a smooth barrel like any local. He also knew that if any of his brothers found out, he would never hear the end of it.
On the other hand, as club enforcer and just a scary looking fucker in general, he knew he could make them stop if he wanted to. Most weren't brave enough to find out what would happen if they ignored the look he would give them.
The military issue boots he had picked up through less than legal mean stomped down the weather beaten wooden steps that lead to the middle of the bay. Yet another reason only the locals used this beach, it took growing up in the area to have a practiced ease on the stairs – all bloody 500 of them. Tourists just didn't have the disposition for them, cashed up and as gluttonous as sin.
He immediately felt the change of medium as his boots hit the sand. Rather than strut straight out among the meager milling of natives he kept to the rockery of the steep incline behind him. Fern frons and sea grasses stuck out at odd angles from the sandstone and he didn't mind pushing them back as he slowly made his way deeper into the bay. He found a medium sized boulder and pushed him self up with a practiced ease. He sat atop the stone and tucked his legs up, feet resting on a slight outcrop and elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands together and rested his chin atop them.
It wasn't the brilliantly sunny day that would constitute a normal persons idea of perfect but the clouds marring the sky did nothing to lessen his mood, in fact, they only reinforced his sense of calm.
He had been sitting there for no more than fifteen minutes, alternating between watching the local surfers and staring sightlessly at the rough water when his vision was interrupted. A surfer with a surfboard tucked under their wetsuit swathed arm was jogging out of the surf directly in front of him.
They walked halfway to his position before digging the nose of the surfboard into the loose sand. They pulled their hands away slightly and, pleased that it remained upright, bent down behind it. His curiosity was peaked now as he watched the space where the surfer had disappeared. He watched two hands peak out to wrap the leg rope around the fins at the top.
Happy lifted his chin from his fists and crossed them lazily over his knees, his interest still absorbed by the enigma behind the board. He had watched them briefly out on the water. Full of natural talent and practiced moves, they had to be a resident of the area.
Finally, a petite body stepped from behind the board. With the wetsuit pulled down to hip height and a pale blue bikini top visible, it was safe to say the enigma was female. He couldn't help but appreciate from afar. Tiny little thing, couldn't much over five foot, hardly any hips to speak of and her tits could barely be a handful each. Her waterlogged hair was dark and thin but chalked that up to the fact that, well, it was saturated.
She placed one hand to her hip and the other to her forehead as she stood sideways and gazed toward the other end of the beach. Her vision steadily moved across like a panoramic shot until her eyes landed on him. She froze but didn't look away straight away. After a brief moment, she lazily turned away and sat herself down on a previously unnoticed towel.
Un-phased by this brief, nonverbal encounter, Happy slowly stood up and jumped back to the dry sand. Taking one last look at the woman who had essentially disregarded him, he began his retreat back to his bike. At the top of the stairs. He shook his head and remembered just why he didn't come all the way down to the sand when he visited.
* A * C *
The second time Happy encountered the tiny surfer was in a small coffee shop in the centre of the small town the beach belonged to. Cadence was nothing to write home about in terms of entertainment but it had something going for it, what that was he didn't really know. It had that same air of small town community that the hometown of the mother charter had. At least Charming had a booming porn business to keep him amused.
He had just paid for a surprisingly reasonably priced take away coffee and cream cheese bagel and was headed towards the door when a redhead pushed it open. She had her head turned back the way she came from as she laughed over her shoulder at something her busty blonde friend had told her. Both wore bikinis and denim shorts, clearly en route to the same lookout he had in mind.
He stopped mid stride and waited to see if she would notice someone was in her way or if she would walk straight in to him. He wasn't surprised when he had to lift his arm to balance his coffee before it spilt as she pressed both hands to his chest to balance her self.
She quickly righted her self and looked up at his face as she pushed her hair back out of her face. Recognition sparked in her dark blue eyes but instead she just shrugged and apologized with a lazy smile.
Happy didn't know how she could possible recognize him, although the cut on his back was distinctive enough. Unless she had just seen him around on his sporadic visit to the town on his few off days. His first priority was always to make time for his Ma in Bakersfield but he also tried to set aside two days to make the trip over to Cadence, northwest of Bakersfield, and then back to Charming.
Still, he knew he didn't look anything like the natives of the town so he was confident her recognition came simply from his status as an outsider.
This opinion was slightly altered as, once again, he found himself leaning against the safety railing of the lookout. He had already made the decision not to tackle the stairs this time. Not that he wasn't physically fit enough for it, rather it was just a pain in the ass and he didn't really benefit from it. Nah, he'd rather stay up the top and eat his bagel.
His attention was once again caught by a slightly high pitched laugh, one that was oddly familiar, and watch from his peripheral as the same red head and blonde from the café walked towards the access steps. Both were holding some kind of brightly coloured juice in one hand and a surfboard tucked under the other arm.
The blonde had a hefty backpack slung over one shoulder. Happy subconsciously applauded the choice; the red head looked hardly strong enough to carry the board tucked against her almost visible ribcage let alone any added weight. Once again her eye caught his and that same flash of recognition clouded hers as that lazy smile pulled at her cheeks. This time Happy's reflected similar emotion although so far he only knew her from their brief encounter not even half an hour prior.
He watched as they bounced down the stairs, sometimes taking them two or three at a time. Yep, he couldn't help but affirm, definitely locals. That and who else would dare to walk around town in a bikini? And better yet, why did he care?
The answer was he didn't. That's what he told himself as he pointedly looked away from the pair as they shook out their colourful towels and settled their stupid healthy juices in the sand.
Despite his earlier decision to remain at the peak of the bluff, he let his instincts guide him toward the tower of stairs. They had already suited up and were running towards the relatively calm swell by the time he reached the sand. Coffee still in hand, he made the discernable journey to his standard boulder and settled comfortably on top.
This time he watched the red head closely, her loose hair still dry and vibrant in the bright sun. He couldn't help but compare this day to the last time he was there. It now resembled the more stereotypical perfect day that it hadn't last time.
Following that thought of comparisons, his mind instantly made the connection between his now saturated redhead and the unaffected surfer he had observed months before. With her hair now darkened and thinned by the ocean, there was no doubt in his mind they were the same person.
So he had been wrong. She had recognized him from a more specific event, not just his outlandish appearance or his leather. He drained the last of his coffee and with one last look at the water, made his way back up the stairs.
* A * C *
Happy was frustrated. When he had been younger, his ideal way of sorting through his anger was to take it out on walls and people who he felt deserved it. That had landed him his first stint in Chino. The California Institute for Men was somewhere he would end up visiting again a few years after his first stay.
But as his violence had grown so had he, and with that came the growth of his level of control. He had learnt to process his frustration before applying the appropriate solution. This time, he decided that sourcing out the different points of his frustration was priority.
He sat down in a wicker chair on the patio of his mothers' small housing commission home. A strong coffee – no cream, half a sugar – sat on the glass topped outdoor table in front of him and he took a small sip as he began to compile a mental list.
First and foremost, his mothers meds had just undergone another price rise and been labeled a prescription medicine. While they had been over the counter, he had been able to stockpile while he was in Charming – or wherever he was stationed, being Nomad gave him the freedom of travel – and take them to her when he could indulge in a stop over in Bakersfield.
Secondly, the bullshit between Jax and Clay was starting to boil over. He didn't need to think about it to know his loyalty lay first and foremost to the club. But Jax was a close second and seeing as how the young VP had the clubs best interests and longevity at heart, he couldn't find it in himself to support his progressively more reckless President.
Already feeling a little better for having categorized the tip of the iceberg, he tried to work his way further through the mental carnage. Reluctantly, he thought about his last trip to Cadence. Leaving while the little redhead was still in the water seemed almost cowardly. He hadn't spoken to her, had no real desire to at the time, but he could have at least stayed until they had left. It felt too much like running away and he didn't appreciate the feeling.
He sighed and swallowed a mouthful of the almost cold, still bitter coffee as acceptance settled heavily on his shoulders. The main source of his frustration was the fucking redhead. How typical. He decided that the first thing he would do when he got back to Charming was to find a petite redhead and fuck her into the headboard. That would get her out of his system.
* A * C *
Once again, Happy stood at Lover's Jump Lookout, a cream cheese bagel in hand and a tiny redhead on his mind. He had strategically worked his way through every damn redheaded croweater Charming had to offer but it had done nothing but feed his slowly growing desire for her.
Not a single sweetbutt he encountered had resembled her in anyway – whether or not that was a good thing he wasn't sure. One thing he was sure of was that his minor obsession was unhealthy.
He found himself growing impatient as he turned away from the ocean and leaned his back against the now familiar railing, one foot one the ground, the other pressed against a wooden rung. Tourists were running rife at the normally quiet lookout and the beach bellow had been swathed with beach towels, blankets and large sun umbrellas.
He had thought about it – extensively – but honestly couldn't imagine what had brought on the mass migration from Southerland Cove to Northern Moon Bay. Giving up as yet another family scurried past him, the mother going so far as to shield her eighteen month olds eyes, he stomped over to his bike and pulled away from the curb without a back ward glance.
He decided on one more coffee before the ride up to Washington and pulled into a parking space at the same little coffee shop he had run into Red – he figured she should at least have some sort of name, even if it was only in his mind. He faltered slightly as he reached the door but pushed on any way. His thoughts had taken a dangerous turn, was he only there to try and run into her again? Would he find himself each visit retracing steps that had led him accidentally to her?
Very dangerous territory.
He lined up at one of the registers and waited for the tourist in front of him to fumble through his wallet for a small enough bill. When it was finally his turn he had just handed over the cash when the very same laugh that had haunted a portion of his waking thoughts sounded from directly next to him.
She was joking around with the blonde boy serving her, clearly friends of some sort. He watched as he refused her money and she smiled lazily back. As she turned to walk over to the designated waiting area, she stopped short as she spotted him.
He was standing with his arms crossed – standard intimidation tactic, she thought – observing her through cold black eyes.
He watched as she resumed walking and came to stand almost directly beside him.
"Sage," she remarked in a voice not at all reminiscent of her deceptively higher pitched laugh. Happy's eyes flickered to her but he remained stoic. She turned to face him front on. "My name," she stated as one eyebrow jerked upwards before dropping just as suddenly.
Happy let his eyes flicker back to her and observed her through his peripheral. Her vibrant red locks were pulled on top of her head in a messy knot, face clear of any makeup, white t-shirt over a pale green bikini, denim shorts and flip flops. She noticed his perusal but remained silent. "Happy." His eyes flickered back to the front.
"Happy," she repeated contemplatively. "Happy to meet me? Or happy to be here? Or are you just happy in general?" she tilted her chin slightly and regarded him through slightly narrowed eyes and that lazy smile still on her face.
Happy frowned at turned to face her full on.
"Ah! So you are one of those generally happy people. I can not tell you how much your kind annoys me," she winked at him before stepping toward the counter to pick up both her fluorescent green juice and his coffee, which had apparently been called at the same time.
She walked straight by him towards the door but stopped halfway when she noticed he wasn't moving. "Well come on, Happy, your coffee's going cold," she tossed over her shoulder and then continued out the door.
Who was he not to follow?
A/N: sorry everybody, I just realised that the breakers I had put in place weren't showing up so I have done a little adjusting which should make it a little easier to read :) Thanks for all your love and support so far! I'm really excited about this one!
