One Headlight

by JayoftheSea

Just because you aren't looking for something, doesn't mean it won't find you.

A/N: This is one of several in-progress fics that I have going. I decided to post what I have so far of all of them, mostly to gauge if there's even any interest in them before writing more. No promises on if or when I will continue any of them, but drop a review to let me know if you'd be interested in more.

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The neighborhood bar that he's chosen is bustling, but not packed, just like every other time he's been here. Not that he's here much. Usually, if he wants a drink, he'll get it at the clubhouse, where his alcohol is paid for with his dues.

But, sometimes, he just needs a slice of something more normal. Where he can leave his kutte at home, throw a beanie on to cover his head tats, and just be some guy in a bar, without people either avoiding and staring at him, or falling all over themselves to try and earn his favor. And, convenient as the sweetbutts are to just get his rocks off, sometimes it's nice to be able to kick back and have a drink or play a game of pool or darts without them constantly trying to push up on him.

So, about a year and a half ago, he'd found this place.

It's nothing special. Just your typical neighborhood dive bar at one end of the main drag through the working-class section of town he rents a little house in. Single, coin-op pool table in one corner at the back, with a jukebox and a couple dart boards along the back wall, and the bathrooms on the other side. There's 15 tables of various size scattered throughout the open floor space, and a very small area left clear right next to the jukebox, both for the convenience of the pool players and the times when people get enough liquor in them to decide to start dancing. The bar itself is along the right-hand wall as you walk in, and between that and the bathrooms is a little kitchen with not much more than a freezer, a tiny grill, and a fryer, along with some shelves for storage. Just enough to make your typical bar food.

Happy idly tips his glass around on the base in a circle, swirling the nearly-empty rum and coke and feeling the remaining ice cubes clink against the sides as his gaze wanders again through the bar patrons from his seat at a small table against the wall. His eye catches on something he hadn't noticed earlier.

There's a hoodie hanging on the back of one of the tall bar chairs, right at the end of the bar, which he stares at for a few moments before comprehending what he's seeing. He nearly cracks a smile as he realizes that he's not imagining things. The sweater has the mascot and school name of a high school from his hometown in California, along with a year that he assumes is the graduation year of the owner - only 2 years after he'd graduated, in fact. Bakersfield isn't a huge city, and had been even less so just over a decade ago when he'd been a teenager there, but it's big enough to need multiple high schools. The school on the hoodie had been the rival to his, and he has more than a few fond memories both of playing pranks there and spending time with the opposition's cheerleaders under the bleachers.

Turning his attention to the person in the chair it's draped over the back of, he finds a woman. Both of them sitting at different levels and him being at an odd angle means he can't tell too much about her, but if she'd been a sophomore when he was a senior, at a different school, it's unlikely they would've known each other anyway unless they happened to run in the same circles. Her feet are propped up on the rail between the legs of the tall stool, and her hair is dark and short, falling only halfway down her neck. A baggy, long-sleeved grey tee that looks not unlike his own covers her arms, and her jeans are dark and aren't painted on from what he can see in the shadows under the bar.

Before he even consciously realizes what he's doing, Happy's lifting his glass to drain the rest of his drink and standing to move to the bar, grabbing his hoodie from the back of his chair on the way. Stopping next to her at the end of the bar, he slides his empty toward the back of the bar and catches the bartender's eye, motioning for another, then tying the arms of his sweater loosely around his hips to free up his hands.

Knowing it'll be a minute while the guy behind the bar is mixing a couple drinks for what he thinks are some moms out for a girl's night, Hap turns his head to look at the woman again, now standing right next to her and able to see much more. She's…. plain. Not ugly by any means, but not what most people would immediately describe as pretty, either. He definitely doesn't recognize her, but, then again, he hadn't really expected to. She hasn't even taken notice of him, simply staring into her nearly-full drink that looks like a coke and something, slowly fiddling with the straw.

"Loyalty dictates I have to say 'Fuck the Mustangs'." the words are out of his mouth the same way he'd gotten up from his table - without thinking. He's surprised, but also kinda not, that his tone is lighter than normal. Teasing, even.

This makes her look over and up at him. With a small snort, she raises an eyebrow and says, "Titan asshole?"

Smirking, he answers, "'92."

Her eyes narrow, obviously trying to place if she recognizes him. After a couple beats, her face relaxes into a smirk of her own. "You were on the wrestling team, right? I remember a couple of the JV cheerleaders getting suspended for fighting in my freshman year because you made out them both under the bleachers in the same weekend."

Happy chuckles in surprise. "Shit, I completely forgot about that." That had been one of the highlights of 11th grade, finding out that chicks were literally fighting over him.

The single waitress for the place comes out and slides a basket of fries in front of the woman just before the bartender sets Hap's fresh drink in front of him. "The fries here taste almost exactly like the ones from Rosie's." she tells him, grabbing the bottle of ketchup the bartender sets by her and shaking out a large dollop onto one side of the paper-lined basket.

Rosie's had been a popular diner and hangout for teenagers, approximately in the middle of a triangle formed by their two schools and also a third one. He remembers his mother telling him a few years ago it'd had to shut down after changing hands a couple times and business failing, but he'd worked his first job there, washing dishes for a few months at age 15, before he'd landed a different job doing oil changes and tire rotations at a local garage instead.

They'd also had THE BEST fries. Those and the 2 pinball machines were what had made it so popular with teenagers.

Disbelieving, he reaches out and grabs one, swiping it through the ketchup and shoving it in his mouth. With a surprised noise, he finds himself concurring. "Holy shit. I've never actually ordered food here."

She evaluates him for a second before tipping her head to her other side, where the occupant of the chair next to hers had just thrown down cash for the bartender and stood up, grabbing his jacket to leave. "I can never finish a whole basket by myself." Happy finds himself actually smiling - as opposed to his usual smirk - as he moves around her to sit down.

Over the basket of fries and through their drinks, they talk. Not about anything substantial, or their current lives, but swapping stories about the places and events they have in common. It's…. Nice. Weird, but nice. Happy can't remember the last time he'd just relaxed and chatted with someone. He has a reputation around the club for being quiet, which he capitalizes on, not wanting to get involved in the petty clubhouse drama, or let out too much information that could be used against him.

After the food is gone, she gets up to use the bathroom, and he takes the opportunity to pay off both his tab and hers. Another thing his brothers would probably be surprised to see, but his momma would wallop him if she found out he'd spent any length of time with a woman over food and drinks and made that woman pay her own bill.

She has an odd look on her face when she gets back to their stools, and, after asking for her tab to find out he'd already paid it, seems to make up something in her mind. As she grabs her sweater from the backrest, she asks, "Typically I take a long-ass walk home, or a cab, but I don't suppose I could get a ride? I'm not too far…."

Her eyes had drifted to his flexing arms as he pulled the hoodie on, and his chest as he zipped it up. Getting the idea, and not being opposed, he warns, "Long as you don't mind the ride bein' on my Harley." In the shitty bar lighting, her eyes snap back to his face, but he can't tell how she's feeling about it as she only moves to pull the sweater in her hands on over her head. When she moves toward the door, he asks, "What, no bag?" Her hands are, indeed, empty, but he has no idea how many she'd had before he'd realized she was there, so she could just be a little drunk and forgetting her purse.

"Only carry one when I have to. I don't like lugging a bunch of shit around." Belatedly, he glances down and sees a wallet chain not unlike his own resting around one hip, stretching from a front belt loop to a back pocket. In his defence, the metal is painted mostly black except where it's chipped off a little, so it blends with her dark jeans.

Not commenting further, he simply follows her out of the bar, reaching around her to push the door open in front of them, getting a raised eyebrow over her shoulder. She's neither short nor tall, just like he'd thought earlier that she's neither really ugly or pretty. Happy'd put her at like 5'7", and she isn't wearing heels. No, on her feet are basic black Chucks. He's pretty sure she has some decent curves hiding under the baggy shirt and slightly loose jeans.

Despite barely knowing her, he thinks he might like her. Maybe not in a take-her-out-on-a-real-date way, but definitely in a person-to-talk-to-and-maybe-call-a-friend-after-awhile way, and he's certainly not going to say no to the veiled invite back to her place.

It's at least partially because she's just so goddamn different than what he sees on a daily basis. Most of the club girls are almost painfully skinny, and the ones who aren't are still high-maintenance as fuck. All barely-there clothes, and bitch heels, and teased hair, and caked-on makeup. Nothing to sneer at when he just wants a warm hole to put it in, but this whole evening is about getting a slice of normal, isn't it?

So, finding a not-unattractive girl in a bar, that he can actually talk to, even just casually, without her flinching from his brutal reputation, who's wearing little or no makeup that he can see and comfortable clothes and sensible shoes… Then actually putting in some time talking to and paying for her, not even with the aim of getting laid, but getting an invite back to her place anyway…. It's like a fresh breeze floating through a room he hadn't even realized was stuffy until he opened the window.

Normalcy. This is what regular Joes do all the time.

Handing her his helmet, he asks where she lives and receives cross streets that he knows. In his general neighborhood, but maybe a mile and a half away, on the far side of it. "You ever ridden before?" is his next question as he swings his leg over his bike.

She swings on confidently on behind him once he's gotten it up off the kickstand, brain bucket securely on her head. "Yeah." is the simple answer as her hands settle on his stomach and her feet hit his back pegs. Not questioning her further, he hits the starter and pulls out, cautious on the slightly loose gravel of the lot he'd parked in, then taking off in the direction of her house once he hits blacktop.

When they get close to the intersection she'd told him, one hand comes off him to point the remaining directions to her house, and he parks in the driveway of a small house very similar to his own, behind a black Honda.

He'd been a little surprised she hadn't even made a token motion at feeling him up on the short ride, and that makes him slightly curious. Had it just not occurred to her? Most chicks taking a guy home would do something like that given the chance. Of course, they hadn't exactly been flirting or anything, so maybe she just isn't that forward. Except she'd talked to him for barely an hour and invited him back to her place, so she has to be at least somewhat forward.

Taking his dome back from her, he hangs it from his handlebar before joining her walk toward the front door. She flicks on a light as they walk in, and he automatically shuts and locks the door behind them.

The living room isn't extravagant; a simple, dark green sectional with a coffee table in front of a decent sized entertainment center, housing a tv and some closed cupboards where he assumes a VCR or DVD player and movies and shit are kept. There's a bookcase against one wall, half-full of books, the rest of the space taken up with a couple plants and some nicknacks, and there's some photos in frames along the walls. Nothing fancy, but it looks comfortable, and like a real person lives here. It's not a showroom.

He's distracted from his inspection as she turns to him from hanging up her sweater on a hook behind the door. "Boots off. Tarmac grit is a bitch to get out of carpet." she orders as she bends to untie her own shoes.

Happy's even more curious at that statement. Familiar with riding, and knows that road dust is a pain to clean out of carpet? He makes short work of pulling his laces loose and kicking his boots off to the side. She kicks her Chucks the same direction as she steps up to him and finally makes a move he can be sure of.

She rests her hands on his chest for balance as she raises up on her toes and presses her lips against his unhesitatingly. His hands go to her hips, pleased to find he'd been right about some curves hiding under her clothes as he kisses her back, and has a passing thought wondering how long it'd been since he kissed a woman. He sure as hell would never lay lips on any of the chicks at the clubhouse. It has to have been at least a couple years. Probably since the last time he'd picked up a chick in a bar, as a matter of fact, probably on a run and staying somewhere without a clubhouse for the night.

He's effectively distracted from thinking as her hands slide up, one caressing up his neck then pulling off the beanie he'd almost forgotten he was wearing, while the other pulls the zipper on his sweater down. In short order, it's yanked off and tossed in the direction of the couch, along with the hat, and she's nibbling on his bottom lip as short nails drag lightly down the back of his neck and her other hand finds it's way up his shirt.

Groaning slightly, he leans further down, swiping his tongue into her mouth and sliding it over hers. Hap hadn't realized until just now that he's actually missed this part of sex. The buildup, figuring out what a woman responds to, the teasing.

Beneath the oversized shirt, her skin is soft under his callused fingers. Round hips dip in to a narrower waist, and he can only vaguely feel her ribs under a healthy layer of flesh - an unexpected turn-on. He's way too used to club girls.

Hap unsnaps the bra easily, sliding a hand up under it to palm one of her tits, finding a nearly-perfect handful with a quickly-stiffening peak at the tip, helped along as he rolls it between his fingers, getting rewarded with a slight moan into his mouth.

Not letting her go, he pulls his head back just enough for them to pull in rasping breaths. After a couple, he growls out, "Unless you want me to bend you over the couch, you should tell me where the bedroom is." It takes her a couple beats to process his words, then she pulls away from him, spinning around and grabbing him by the belt buckle to lead him back toward a hallway.

Two lamps flick on instead of an overhead light as she flips the switch on entering her bedroom, and he only glances around enough to see that this room, just like the living room, is simply furnished and looks lived-in. He's almost immediately distracted as her clothes begin coming off and getting tossed at a plastic laundry basket. The massive piece of ink covering her back is an unanticipated delight, and Hap doesn't hesitate to step forward and run his fingers up the trunk of the tree running up her spine. There's other details that he doesn't take much note of right away, deciding to inspect it closer later.

"Good thing you don't have a problem with ink." he says before reaching for the hem of his own shirt and pulling it up over his head, tossing it away in a random direction. She turns, eyes running over the various, colorful designs covering quite a bit of his skin.

Not refuting that statement, she moves toward him again, reaching for his belt buckle once again, but unfastening it this time even as she inspects the words at his collar. As his jeans slide down his legs, her fingers and tongue begin tracing the inked lines on his torso.

She doesn't get very far. Impatient, he reaches to unfasten her own pants and shoves them, and the panties underneath, as far as he can reach down her legs before she takes over, pushing them to her knees before they fall completely and she steps out of them. Happy grabs her hips again, harder this time, as he pushes her back toward the bed. It's only a few steps, then she's sitting on the fairly tall bed - it comes almost halfway up Hap's thighs, he notes as his knees hit it - and she scoots backward toward the middle of the queen-size.

There's another, smaller, piece of ink on one thigh, and more around the opposite ankle, but he barely notices them before running his eyes up the rest of her body. Soft curves everywhere he'd expect them, and another surprising turn-on in the fact that she isn't shaved. Neatly trimmed pubic hair is a thing he can absolutely get on board with. The only two options at the clubhouse are totally bare or full bush. He avoids option 2, not because he really cares about whether the girls have body hair or not, but because it just gets in the damn way when he's in a hurry and can't be bothered to make sure the bitches are wet. On the other hand, razor-burn doesn't look good on anyone or anything, and that includes pussy.

This is a delightful alternative, and he admires the whole picture in front of him for a moment before following her onto the bed and pushing her legs open.

He's almost as surprised as she seems to be when he stops only halfway up her body and slides his tongue up her slit. Another thing he can't remember the last time he did. It's probably been at least 5 years since he was with a chick outside the club life that wasn't basically the same as those girls, just in some random divey bar, frequently with them only going to the bathroom or back alley to hook up.

After a couple minutes of experimentation, he's figured out what she responds to and is slowly moving three fingers in and out of the soft, slick channel as he sucks on her clit, looking up at her as her tits bounce slightly with her heaving breaths, little moans and whimpers escaping with every exhalation. Her hands both go to his head at some point, running over his scalp, nails digging in a little sporadically as he hits a spot inside her or flicks his tongue over her.

As her moaned, cut-off words get louder, he finds himself remembering that he use to like this aspect of being with chicks - getting them off. Some of the guys in the club are nice enough to bother with the girls' pleasure, but he isn't one of them. He doesn't complain if one of them cums while he's fucking them, which happens, but he doesn't go out of his way to try and make it happen either. The girls know what they're there for, put themselves in that situation knowing what would be expected of them in exchange for the club's protection and help. And the way they get passed around, he spends as little time with them as possible, only for the sake of getting his, before tossing them out on their ass. Literally, sometimes, if she's not going fast enough and he's drunk and wants to go to sleep.

Thighs clamp around his head, muffling the enticing sounds, as the muscles around his fingers begin tightly contracting, thick drops her fluids now starting to dribble down his forearm as she cums.

He keeps working her over, drawing the orgasm out until the hands on his head push his face away from her pussy.

Grinning, rather pleased with himself as well as the vision in front of him, Happy leaves her clit alone, but continues to finger-fuck her even as he starts kissing and licking his way up her body. He stops for a long minute at the round tits, leaving a bite mark on the inside of one, which draws a soft yelp, but no complaints. Shifting to the other, he sucks the nipple and then some into his mouth, hard, as her hands drag over his chest and stomach, now able to reach him as he props himself up on the arm that isn't occupied between her legs.

It's her that gets impatient this time.

"You gonna let me play or not?" she demands around the throaty little whimpers she'd been letting out.

Moving to start licking and sucking his way over her collarbones and neck, he says between kisses to the soft skin. "You play, we're gonna be done before I get inside you." For emphasis, he twists his hips slightly so his boxer-clad, but rock-hard and leaking cock rubs along her thigh.

"Well, I guess we should find you a condom then." is her breathy rebuttal. "And I'll just have to figure out a way to keep you here long enough for me to play later."

From his position sucking a hickey onto her neck just below her ear, he chuckles against her skin. Pausing the very important work, he says, "Maybe if you cum hard enough on my dick, I'll have to stay for a shower and you can blow me."

"Fantastic idea." she breathes out, twisting her body until he relents, removing his fingers from the hot, wet pussy and shifting off of her.

Happy shoves his boxers off before settling settling half-sitting against the headboard while she digs into the back of one of the drawers in a side table, finally emerging with a rubber after a minute. There's a moment of wondering how often she does this - bring guys home from bars. Obviously often enough to keep them on hand, but they'd been buried pretty far back, so at least not in a little while recently.

She twitches an eyebrow at his position when she turns back toward him, but just goes about tearing open the foil packet and rolling the latex over him. His legs are splayed out, so she has to spread her knees quite far to straddle him.

The sounds of their groans of 'fuck' and 'oh god yes' mix together as he grips her hips and guides her down onto his cock.

Hands and lips run over skin as she sets a slow, steady pace that he appreciates. He wasn't kidding, he wants to feel those muscles inside her pulsing around him while she cums hard enough to see stars. If she'd gone fast and hard, he'd bust before he can make sure that happens. The sounds coming involuntarily from both their mouths mix with the light slapping of skin hitting skin, and nails and teeth begin getting sprinkled in with softer touches and kisses.

He has one hand squeezing a tit and the other gripping her ass while she sucks on his neck and plays with one of his nipples when she starts shuddering and lets out a short cry close to his ear. Lost in sensations, Happy wonders if this is even real or some very long, vivid dream, not quite able to believe his quiet night at the neighborhood bar had turned out this way.

Soft, inked, spasming body against his; hot, ever-wetter cunt with a death-grip around his dick. Her shaky hands and lips still run over his own inked skin as she grinds down on him while she cums. As her orgasm tapers off, she tries to continue riding him, but her legs are shaky and weak, protesting the movement.

Instead, Happy grabs her hips and ass, prompting her to just lift up a bit and stay there before he braces his shoulders against the headboard and starts jacking his hips up to fuck her.

"Fuuuck…" she mutters, looking down at him and running her hands over the now-very-obvious muscles in his abdomen and hunching to watch him pump in and out of her.

He's in good shape, but he can't keep that up for more than a couple minutes.

With a nudge, she's climbing off of him and almost flopping onto her back. He moves up to his knees, between hers, and takes a few seconds to dial himself back a bit, interested to see if he can get a third one out of her before he nuts. He really hopes so. He doesn't know why he'd thought she wasn't exactly pretty earlier; the slightly sweaty, shivering woman splayed out in front of him might be the prettiest thing he's seen in years.

Or that could be the endorphins talking. Maybe she wouldn't object to him staying the night so he can have another look tomorrow morning.

Resting over her, he goes back to the hickey he'd started on earlier as he slides back into her and loses himself in the sensations again, deciding he'll figure it out later.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

"Dude, you not sticking around?" Kozik's voice calls after Happy as the darker man makes his way out of the clubhouse and towards the line of bikes under the awning.

"Nah." is Hap's simple answer along with a shaking head. He doesn't turn around or offer an explanation, despite Koz being probably his best friend at this point. Not that he'd ever tell the idiot that. It would go to his head faster than a line of blow.

Besides, even if he was inclined to explain his choices in general, he sure as hell wouldn't tell anyone here that he's skipping their normal after-Church Saturday party to go to a dive bar in his neighborhood in the hopes that a particular chick is going to be there. He'd never hear the end of it.

He doesn't even know if it's necessarily her that he wants, but, for some reason, blowjobs and warm holes around the clubhouse just to get off aren't scratching the itch like they used to. It's like the night he'd spent at her place nearly a month previously had reminded him how sex is supposed to be, and now he just isn't satisfied with finding whatever sweetbutt is around and ordering her onto her knees anymore.

The biggest problem is that he also doesn't think he wants to do the dating shit.

How many women can there be in Tacoma that are cool with no-strings fucking with the likes of him that aren't already around the clubhouse regularly, after all? Take that number and reduce it down to people he won't get sick of after 5 minutes…. He doesn't like his odds.

But her, he likes. He'd decided that even before they'd fucked. He doesn't know her name, but he likes her.

They have a sort of shared history, being from the same place during the same time, growing up with so many of the same people, going to the same places, and he'd found it surprisingly easy to relax around her. She hadn't asked intrusive questions, or offered any real personal information. Her eyes had taken in the stark, harsh promise that he wears in his very skin, catalogued the various other gruesome club-related tattoos, and simply run her fingers over the lines, kissing and licking trails over his body.

There's still the curiosity about how familiar she is with bikes, too. The morning after, they'd had a vigorous round of morning sex and she'd offered him breakfast. Never one to turn down a home-cooked meal that he doesn't have to make, Happy had accepted, leaning against the counter, redressed except his boots and outerwear, drinking a cup of strong coffee while she'd puttered around the kitchen in sweats and a tank top, making them bacon and eggs.

At some point, they'd gotten onto the topic of his bike, and she'd actually understood what he was saying when he'd told her the make and model. She'd correctly guessed the engine size, and not waited for him to respond before commenting on the modified tailpipes she'd noticed the night before. His cell phone had rung before he could ask how she knows bikes, and he'd gone into the other room to talk to Lee for a few minutes, and food was ready when he came back. They'd settled at her little kitchen table and she'd changed the topic of conversation back to Bakersfield, distracting him before he could ask.

All of this is stuff Happy mulls over on the 20 minute ride to his house and through a quick shower to get the grease and sweat from a day in the garage off him before changing into clean clothes and folding his kutte into his safe.

When he finally gets to the bar, he's in luck. She's there, in exactly the same seat as before, and it's not too busy, so the seat next to her is open.

"Tall rum and coke, basket of fries." he tells the bartender as the guy walks over while he sits down, dropping his leather jacket over the back of the chair. It's getting later into the fall, which means lower temperatures and more rain. He sees only a hoodie - different than her school one - on her chair and wonders if she was planning on taking a cab this time, or if she was here looking for another ride home.

"Hey stranger," she greets when he's settled and has a drink in front of him.

"Hey," he returns the greeting with a smile that feels almost out of place on his face. "You come here often?" he throws out the overplayed pickup line with a teasing tone and is pleased when she rolls her eyes a little and cracks a small grin.

"Every couple weeks." she actually answers the teasing question. "I actually just got here. Barely touched this and hadn't even ordered fries yet."

Resting his arm on her chair back without stopping to question it, he says, "Well, you can share mine this time before we take off."

A brow arches, but she's still faintly smiling. "Oh? That confident we're going home together again, are you?"

His hand that's near her arm on the other side brushes slowly up and down the soft skin over her tricep, and he sees her suppress a shiver as he leans in to say lowly in her ear. "I'm confident that I want to see you a shaking mess after you cum for a third time in a row, and I'm really confident that you rubbing that pretty pussy of yours while you suck my dick is the hottest shit I have ever seen." He's only even exaggerating a little. There have been hotter things, but not many, and most of them are of a variety that would make most people scream/puke/pass out rather than get turned on.

She keeps her cool, despite being obviously affected by his words. "So, what, you want to make this a regular thing? Because I don't want a boyfriend."

"Good, I don't do girlfriends." he tells her frankly. If, by some miracle, he ever settles down with a woman, she'll be his Old Lady, not some fucking girlfriend. And his momma would kill him if he didn't marry whatever bitch he inked as an Old Lady.

She studies his face, still rather close to hers, before seeming to decide he's being truthful. "Well, if we're doing the friends with benefits thing, we should probably make at least a token effort to actually be friends." Her right hand twitches like she's about to do something before settling back next to her drink. "I'm Andi."

Hesitating for a moment before speaking, he's shocked at what comes out of his mouth. "David."

Fries are plopped down in front of him without ceremony, breaking their little reverie. As Andi takes charge of dumping out ketchup, he thinks about why he'd given his real name, then decides it's because this - whatever it is - is so distinct from the club. She seems smart, and has almost certainly figured out from the bike and the tattoos that he's a Son, them being the only 1% club in a 40-mile radius, but he'd met her out-of-kutte and made the conscious decision tonight to keep seeing her the same way.

Besides, this is all because he wants a piece of something somewhat normal, right? Something not-club-related. Being 'Happy' around her would be melding the two pieces of his world. And it's not like she couldn't find out his real name fairly easily anyway. The shared history would make it a simple matter of her talking to people from back home and seeing if any of them remember his name.

If there's a small, whispering voice at the back of his head that points out that he also just doesn't feel like 'Happy' around her - that he feels like David, back before the club, and he wants to hold onto that….

Well, it's his own head, who cares if he ignores that voice.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

He steps into Andi's house without knocking, knowing she's home because of the car in the driveway and tv he can see playing the evening news through the front window. She's not good about locking her doors when she's home and awake, leaving them unlocked most of the time from when she gets home until she's heading to bed, and sometimes not even locking up then. It's something he's gotten on her about several times, and her rebuttal never fails to shut him up for the sole reason that she's right.

'You're not my boyfriend, you don't get to lecture me about how I do shit in my own home.'

They aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, they aren't dating, she is not his Old Lady.

They're friends.

Who fuck.

A lot.

For nearly a year, Happy has found himself at her house regularly. Almost too regularly. Fucking her into the mattress - or shower wall, or kitchen counter - a couple times a week had kept him so satisfied that he'd stopped bothering with the croweaters entirely. Until a couple of his brothers noticed and started grilling him about it, anyway, at which point he'd gone back to getting occasional blowjobs.

He'd made his excuses about being tired of the same old used up gash, telling them he'd just started picking up chicks in bars for a bit of variety. It wasn't a lie, really. He and Andi still frequently meet at the little dive bar they'd met at to have a drink and split a basket of fries.

Closing the door - and locking it - as he kicks off his boots, he hears the dryer starting in the little utility room off the back of the kitchen before the sound muffles when she closes the door. "Hey." he calls as he makes his way in there to meet her, not wanting to startle her. "Need to tell you somethin'."

She looks curiously at him as he walks into the kitchen. The fridge door is open, and she turns to peer into it again. "Okay. Do you want chicken and rice for dinner, or spaghetti?"

He wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her back before shutting the fridge door in front of her. "Talk first. Then, I want an appetizer before you start cooking." he slaps her cotton-shorts-covered ass as he lets her go, turning to sit at the little kitchen table.

"You're kinda freaking me out, here." She tells him as she warily joins him.

Sighing, he just spits it out, knowing it's best to just get it over with. "I got caught takin' care of some club shit a couple nights ago. There's evidence out the ass, no real point in tryin' to fight it, so our lawyer got me a plea deal, but I'm still gonna be inside for 8 months." He doesn't talk to her about the club much. Not specifically anyway. She's heard stories of people he's close to in it by now, and knows some very general things, but not much. Just like he knows only the bare-bones of her life. Their conversations tend to revolve around California, or general topics like tv and shit.

But it would be rude for him to just up and disappear on her, and he's going inside the next day, so this is a necessity.

"When?" is her immediate question, sounding all-business.

"Tomorrow." he tells her plainly.

"County or state?" is the next question, and he wonders, not for the first time, about her personal history. Asking where your friend-who-you-fuck-a-lot is going to be imprisoned is normal. Asking it that way indicates that she's at least somewhat familiar with the system.

"County."

She nods acceptingly. "Put me on your visit list, and call me once in awhile."

That surprises him. They aren't big phone talkers, having only called each other a handful of times in the almost-year they've known each other, usually if something came up and they had to cancel plans. He's also a little unsure, since he feels like her seeing him in jail would be blurring the firm line he'd drawn in his life between her and the club.

Then he thinks about the alternative, which is seeing no one but whatever brothers have the time and inclination to come visit him here and there, and decides it doesn't matter. He gives his own nod.

Conversation having gone better than anticipated, he grins over at her and pats the table. "About that appetizer…" the table isn't big, but it's big enough, and sturdy. They've tested that before.

Huffing out a laugh, Andi stands and pushes her shorts and underwear down her legs before stepping out of them and moving to stand straddling him before planting her ass on the table and scootching back until she can rest her feet on the edge while propping herself up on her elbows as she leans back.

Still grinning, he teases her, "What, you wanna watch or something?"

"If you're not going to start eating, then I'm getting up to make dinner." she teases back, starting to make a motion to sit back up.

He takes the bait, threading one hand under a leg and hooking it to press down on her lower stomach to keep her in place even as he lowers his head and spreads her lower lips with a couple fingers. It's only a few second before he's lapping happily at the pretty, dark pink slit bared open in front of him, alternately pausing to suck on the little bundle of nerves at the top and dip his tongue into her pussy.

This is for his enjoyment as much as hers, so he takes his time slowly working her up instead of going all in and making her cum hard and fast like he usually does. He makes a mental note to do it more often when the payoff is her cumming so hard she actually squirts, which she doesn't typically.

Andi collapses down onto her back breathing hard and shaking while Happy looks down at his tee shirt, which is now soaked like he spilled water trying to drink it. He strips it off and goes to throw it in the washer, since she'd started a load a couple minutes before as he was coming in, and by the time he's closed the utility room door again, she's standing and pulling her shorts back on.

"Aw, I only get one?" he playfully whines.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm hungry. For actual food. I didn't eat lunch today. After dinner, you can fuck me in every position you can think of, all damn night. Gotta make the most of it if it's all I'm getting out of you for the next 8 months. But food first."

That's exactly what he'd intended on doing anyway, so he only frowns a little worriedly at the news she hadn't eaten lunch. He'd found out a few months into their whatever this is that she has a tendency to skip meals, especially if she's busy or stressed. Happy doesn't like that, particularly considering one of the reasons he likes fucking her is that she's an actual real woman with some meat to grab onto instead of skeletally thin like all the other bitches he sees on the daily trying to look like models and actresses in magazines.

Plus, he kinda gives a damn about her wellbeing in general at this point. Their friendship had started out somewhat playfully and casually, but he takes it seriously. He doesn't have many people that he'd willingly call his friend in the first place, and she's it outside of the club.

"Busy at work?" she has some boring desk job that has something vaguely to do with accounting. He's not really sure exactly. But he assumes every job must have stressful parts, even if they aren't the same kind of life-or-death stress he sometimes faces.

"Something like that." Andi dodges the question as she pulls out some ground beef from the freezer and canned sauce and dried noodles from a cupboard.

His frown deepens, but he doesn't push. They don't share much of their personal lives with each other. That's not how this works.

But he wants to know what's wrong to see if he can fix it.

Then he reminds himself that, even if that were their relationship, there's probably not much, if anything, that he could possibly do in less than 24 hours. He's being picked up at 2 pm tomorrow, and it's already almost 6:30.

So, instead of pushing, he turns to the fridge and pulls it open to grab them each a beer.

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He watches her get up and slightly gingerly walk away. She hadn't looked very well, but kept insisting she's fine. How she's walking, one arm wrapped low over her stomach, almost reminds him of a couple times that her period had caused some severe cramping, making her miserable until the midol had kicked in enough to take the edge off so he could get inside her and make her cum away the worst of the tension.

If he were out there, he'd know, because he'd long ago gotten in the habit of checking her birth control pack in the bathroom every couple weeks to see how close she is to the end of it, and, consequently, having her period. In here, he has no way of keeping track of that shit.

Hoping that's all it is and she hadn't wanted to say so in the visit room, over the stupid phone, separated by inch-thick plexi-glass, Happy looks to the guard at the end of his row, expecting to be given the signal to get up and head back to his unit. The guard just shakes his head instead.

Motion in the corner of his eye catches Hap's attention and he looks forward again and finds…. Fuck.

Picking up the receiver again, he looks into the grinning face of his best friend and grunts out, "Koz." in greeting.

In lieu of returning any greeting, Kozik immediately starts in on him. "Man, I KNEW you were full of shit about just being tired of sweetbutts. When the hell did you get a girl? And how? You hardly fucking talk, and normal chicks don't just hit their knees when you point at your dick."

Caught and not seeing any point in lying, Happy shrugs and explains very shortly, "Met her in a bar. And she's not my girl. She's a friend."

Skeptical look on his face, Koz spits out, "Right, because women that are just friends totally come visit you in jail." Shaking his head, he continues before Happy can figure out how to reply to that. "No, man, in our life, outsiders forget we exist when shit turns sideways and we go inside for any length of time."

"Don't know what to tell ya, bro. We're not together. She's my friend." Happy reiterates.

Koz purses his lips for a moment before pointing out, "Dude, you've never even called me your friend."

Not to your face or anywhere that you could ever hear about it…. Happy thinks, remembering times he'd told stories to Andi and actually had voiced that Koz is his best friend. Knowing there's no way he can say the right thing, he just keeps his face stone cold and stares Koz down until the other man sighs and gives up trying to make him say it.

The blond idiot begins filling him in on things that are happening around the garage and clubhouse. The shit that's fine to talk about publicly, anyway. Like Coco opening up the oil plug on an engine right over his face and getting 4.6 grimy liters up his nose and in his eyes.

That takes up the rest of the 45 minute visit, then Hap is escorted with a few others back to his block. In his bunk, his mind wanders back to Andi, his concern over how pale and tired she'd looked, and what Koz had said.

Koz is right in that outsiders don't typically stick around once they see the effects that sometimes come of the life of a one-percenter. But something in his gut tells him Andi doesn't care about the consequences. Or has at least accepted them…. Almost like the girls that are in the life.

Not for the first time, he wonders if she used to be a sweetbutt for another club, or an Old Lady, or something.

He knows she knows what his smiley faces mean, and it hadn't freaked her out. He'd gotten a new one a few months previously, and she'd simply traced softly around the swollen skin around the new little tattoo before laying kisses across his collarbones and the base of his neck. Right over a different tattoo.

I live I die I kill for my family

Hell, when he'd told her he was going to jail, she was probably shocked it was only for 8 months.

Thinking about that night, his last before coming here, has blood flowing straight to his dick. She'd promised him he could fuck her as many times as he could in whatever position he could dream up, and he'd taken her up on it. They actually ran out of condoms around midnight, and she'd let him just keep going. It wasn't the first time they'd gone bareback, but it was usually when both of them were kinda drunk or half-asleep and not paying attention.

Then again, she's on birth control, and he'd even gone and gotten tested after the first time they'd forgotten, pretty sure he didn't have anything to warn her about, but wanting to make sure anyway.

Her obvious physical discomfort today barges into his mind again, and he tries to remember when she'd been on the rag last before he got here, but, frustratingly, can't. It's been about 10 weeks so far, and Thanksgiving is coming up. He's a little glad to have an excuse to skip the big feast with the club this year. He loves them, they're his family as much as his ma is as far as he's concerned, but the big holiday gatherings are always crowded, noisy affairs that he can only take for so long before he has to either leave or shoot a shrieking child who doesn't want to eat their green beans.

Last year, he'd made an appearance to satisfy Junie and Carrie, Spanner and Lee's Old ladies who are the head bitches around Tacoma, then left before dinner was even served, picking up Chinese takeout and showing up on Andi's doorstep. He may not know much about her personal life, but he'd figured out easily enough that she doesn't have any family in the area, and a simple question about plans earlier in the week had told him that she planned on spending the long weekend vegging on her couch.

On Christmas Eve the following month, he'd done almost the exact same thing, but with Indian food.

Man, laying here thinking about the times he's been able to literally spend almost-whole-days at a time fucking her really isn't helping fend off his erection. Turning his head slightly, he evaluates the state of his cell. There's 8 beds in it, but only 6 guys, including him, assigned here at the moment. 3 of his cellmates are elsewhere - probably out in the 'yard' which is actually a big indoor space with some tables in the middle, a 'track' marked around those on the concrete for guys to run, and some bars to do pull-ups and shit and other basic workout equipment that they can't use to hurt anyone else except maybe bashing their heads into it.

The 2 in here with him at the moment are both in their bunks, reading whatever they'd taken out from the small library recently. Neither of them would probably care if he rubbed one out as long as he was quiet about it, but he'd still rather wait until well after lights out when he's reasonably sure they're asleep.

Happy isn't a shy guy, he'd fucked croweaters or gotten blown out in the open right alongside many of his club brothers before. But doing it himself, in a place full of nothing but dudes he hardly knows, he cringes at. Had the last time he'd been inside, too.

With a quiet sigh, he reaches under his pillow for his own book - he finds it hilarious that they allow the fucked up Stephen King novels in a place full of criminals, most of whom are violent to some degree - and tries to take his mind off of how far away the end of April seems.

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She seems mostly better the next time she visits a few weeks later. There's more color back in her face, and she doesn't look as exhausted or in pain, just a little on the low-energy side. Not that she's hyperactive or some shit normally, but there's something still just a little… subdued about her.

"You look like you're feeling better than last time. You gonna tell me what was wrong now?" he questions after basic greetings are out of the way.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing you need to worry about." Andi huffs slightly.

Studying her, he says, "You're my friend. I give a damn. And it's not like I have a fuckton else to do in here. I can only do so many situps and pushups in a day, and reading gives me headaches after awhile."

"You need reading glasses." she tries to deflect with a small smirk.

Ignoring that suggestion, he keeps hounding her. "You were acting like when your cramps are bad, but, like, worse. If you were just on the rag, you would've rolled your eyes at me and told me that it was cramps." He'd determined that after more thinking on it. She may not have announced it unprompted, but if it was something routine like that, she would've said something to get the point across when asked.

Andi's eyes divert from his face off to the side, and speaks lowly into the handset. "Look, we don't talk about personal shit. That's how it's always worked."

"Maybe I wanna start talking about personal shit." the words don't surprise him as they fly out of his mouth without him entirely meaning to, matching her volume. He's wondered about various aspects of her life plenty, and it wouldn't be the end of the world to have someone to really talk to. More than their frequent chatter and bantering. And friends know shit about each other. He knows more about Koz than he cares to sometimes, and the idiot knows more about him than anyone else in the club.

"Fine, you start, then. Tell me something about you." she demands, finally looking back at him with a stubborn set to her face.

Happy almost opens his mouth to argue before he thinks twice about it. It's not an unfair demand. He did kinda just spring this on her, and it's fair enough to make the sharing start with him since he's the one pushing for change between them. Good faith gesture and all that.

Sighing, he acquiesces, offering a piece of his personal history. "My dad was killed when I was 9. Some wannabe gangbangers were knocking over a gas station and shot him when he tried to protect the woman behind the counter."

Her expression softens, seeing he's working with her and in sympathy at the story. She looks like she's thinking hard about something before her eyes drift again and she replies. "My father had one of those. On his shoulder, and I think it was part of a bigger piece, but I never saw the whole thing. Just what poked out from sleeveless shirts."

Confused, it takes a second for Happy to follow her gaze. He'd thought it had just drifted, but she's actually looking at something. Specifically, the outside of his right forearm, which is holding the phone up to his head. There, running from elbow to wrist, he has the club M16 scythe, that being his dominant hand and consequently the one used most frequently for executing his orders. No pun intended.

"Your dad was a Son?" he questions, stunned and a little harsh-sounding.

On the other side of the plexi-glass, Andi shrugs. "I don't really know. I assume so, from what I've found out since becoming an adult, but he never had a kutte when he showed up. Mom wouldn't ever talk about him, wouldn't even talk to him when he'd stop by, usually a few weeks after my birthday every year, sometimes random other times, but not much. She'd just make sure I had long pants and decent shoes on and shove me out the door to go spend the day with him when he pulled up on his bike. For my 13th birthday, he never showed up, and I haven't seen or heard from him since."

This makes Happy's gut clench. When Sons, or bikers in general, just disappear, they're usually in a shallow grave somewhere. And…. he runs his brain through the general history of the club as he knows it and does the math. She'd last seen him when she was 12, so he'd been 14, which was 1988…. The end of the first big war with the Mayans was in '89, after 3 years of blood. Obviously the club hadn't known about her, otherwise his charter, or whatever one knew about her, would've sent some kind of word at the very least.

"What's his name?" he inquires next, intending to put some feelers out.

"I don't know." Happy stares at her disbelievingly, prompting her to shrug again. "Like I said, mom wouldn't ever talk to or about him. When he showed up, all she would ever say is to get dressed because 'your father is here'." she imitates the bitter and bitchy tone her mother used to say it with. "I only ever knew him as 'dad', and he's not on my birth certificate."

"So, Matheson…." he leads into the next question.

"My mom's last name, same as my grandparents."

Yeah, finding out about her father will be more than a little difficult without a name. A lot of guys died in that war.

"So, that's why you're so familiar with bikes." he states more than asks, almost musing to himself.

She surprises him by shaking her head. "Not exactly. I first rode with him, but seeing a guy once or twice a year isn't enough to really learn much or even get very comfortable riding. But he is why I wanted to know more about them. Once I got to college, I got kinda obsessed with trying to find out about him…. Didn't get much once I figured out what the one tattoo was. You know how you guys are about outsiders asking questions. But I ended up liking the bikes themselves, and the culture, so I kept going to shows, learning shit. Dated a few guys from that scene. Weekenders, 99-percenters."

That makes sense. She knows enough from being around the scene, and probably research about organized crime overall once she'd narrowed the scope to outlaw bikers, that she isn't surprised by too much that she'd already pieced together about him. Tracking kills is common practice in his world, and that's a well-documented fact.

Abruptly, he realizes she's offered a LOT of information in exchange for very little from him, so he decides to throw some more out there to balance it out a bit. "I'd never even thought about riding until I was 19 and a tattoo apprentice and a few guys from the club started coming around. Inside a month, I'd traded my shitty old Ford in and got my first bike, started hanging around the clubhouse on my off nights."

She blinks at him for a moment before asking her first question of this little session. "You're a tattoo artist? I thought you work at the club garage."

It's his turn to offer a shrug. "Club makes my availability unpredictable, can't really work in a shop where I have appointments and shit, people counting on me being there when I'm supposed to be. So I got a rig and supplies at my place to ink the guys or their Old Ladies; do work on hangarounds, pack it up when I go on runs to other charters sometimes if I'm gonna be there a couple days. Regular paychecks come from the garage."

Andi nods her comprehension and seems at a loss for what to say next. He doesn't blame her. This is, after all a very new type of conversation for them.

Going back to his original point with all of this, he again tries to prompt, "So, a few weeks ago…."

Her eyes close and she drops her head down as she lets out a big sigh, her free arm going around her stomach. Happy tenses up, wondering what the hell it was that she's so reluctant to tell him. He'd thought she'd just had a virus or something and didn't want him to worry, but he's getting the idea now that it was more serious than that.

"You remember how we ran out of condoms that last night?" she starts, making a small smile almost instantly appear on his face despite the seriousness as images of fucking her bare in the living room rush through his mind. Then it disappears as his brain finally makes the connection and promptly shorts out.

"Wait, you're-"

"No." she cuts him off before he can say it. Her eyes open again, but her gaze shifts slightly off to the side of him, like she's worried about his reaction and doesn't want to see. "The day before that last visit, I…. took care of it."

What? He thinks in confusion, brain still trying desperately to process what she's saying. Took care of…. His mind casts a mental image of his smiley faces, the bloody gun-scythe on his arm. 'Took care of it' is a euphemism the club uses as a lot.

She got an abortion.

No idea what to say or how he feels about that, all Happy can do is stare through the thick, clear plastic at her face as she continues to avoid his eyes.

After a few minutes of heavy silence, Andi speaks again, finally looking back at him. "I don't even know if I want kids at all, but I definitely don't want to bring a kid into this world for it to just have the same life I did. I didn't have much time to make a decision - by the time I found out, it was getting close to the cutoff to get one - and I have no idea how you feel about kids. I mean, I know you would've stepped up, or whatever, you're a responsible guy, but you're also in fucking jail, and it's not like we're even dating or anything. There was no way of knowing when you'd call so I could ask you about it, and I wasn't scheduled for a visit until that day, and I may not have been able to take all the steps to get an appointment if you'd agreed in the visit that I shouldn't keep it. They make you see a counsellor and all this other shit first…. It was the only thing that made sense to do."

He grunts out an acknowledgement that he'd been listening, but he's still very much trying to process this news. He's saved from having to try and dredge up a response as the 2-minute buzzer sounds in both their ears to wrap it up and say goodbye.

She sighs after the sound cuts off. "I know you probably need to wrap your head around this. I'm still wrapping my head around it. I scheduled my next visit on the way in, for the first weekend in January….. If you still want me to come, call and tell me." With this, she hangs up the phone and stands, not waiting for a goodbye as she strides out of the 'visitor' side of the room.

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"Man, I know you ain't a big talker, but you've been quiet even for you. Missin' your family this close to the holidays?" Al is a big, middle-aged guy, and the roommate that Hap dislikes the least. He even borderline likes the guy. Al doesn't yammer just to hear his own voice, and tends to just leave people to their own devices, particularly if they don't seem to want to be bothered.

So, if he's off enough that the man is actually asking, it must be really damn obvious that something's wrong. Fuck. Eyeing the dude, he decides maybe asking for some advice may not be the worst idea. It's not like he has to give details. The thing he's preoccupied with doesn't even have anything to do with the club. Well, not really. Not the part that's actually bothering him the most.

He's laying on his bed, so he turns his eyes back to the bottom of the bunk above him as he replies. "Found out that I knocked up a friend of mine right before I came in here, and she got an abortion."

Al blows out a big breath. "Shit. You pissed or relieved?"

Shaking his head slightly, Happy tries to answer. "I don't even fuckin' know. She told me why, and I get all her reasons. Even agree with 'em. We're not together, just friends that fuck because neither of us wants a relationship. But, at the same time…." he trails off, unable to articulate that part of him is also sad and upset and a little mad.

"At the same time, you just found out you were almost a dad and you aren't sure how you feel about that, or about her making the decision without talking to you, even if you probably would've agreed with whatever she decided to do." Al sounds understanding.

"Yeah." Hap breathes out. That about sums it up.

"How old are you?" the other man asks seemingly out of the blue.

Turning his head back to look at the bunk next to him, curious about where this line of questioning is going, he answers. "28." Or, he will be soon. Close enough.

"Her?" is the next one.

"25."

It's Al's turn to shake his head, and he gives Happy a surprisingly kind smile for a guy that's been in jail for assault with a deadly weapon for over a year already. "You got time, kid. Years of it. And so does she. Get your head around the fact that it almost happened, and decide what you want for the future. If it becomes an issue again, hopefully you'll be out and able to handle it real-time. Make decisions together."

Happy nods his thanks for the ear and the advice before they both go back to minding their business, him with new things to think on.

He knows Al is right, just like he knows that all of Andi's reasons for doing it were completely valid. He's young still, and he's seen club guys unexpectedly becoming dads into their 50's since he's started prospecting. Andi has less time, he's pretty sure, but still at least a handful of years to figure out if she wants rugrats or not. And even if they both decide they want kids, there's no saying they'll necessarily want them with each other.

Actually, that's wrong. He thinks, if he's gonna have kids, he wouldn't mind having them with her. It's not like he meets many women outside the life, and he's known for a long time that no sweetbutt would ever have enough of his respect that he'd be willing to put up with her for 18 years. Women that he can stand, who aren't in the life already, but accept the life are thin on the ground. Him stumbling into her in that bar and them being from the same place had been a random stroke of luck. And he'd admitted to himself that he likes her a long time ago. He's not in love with her or any shit like that…. Not that he's ever been in love to know what it feels like, but he's pretty sure he's not.

But a couple of friends who both know the score and raising a brat or two with mutual understandings about how to do things? Fuck, that sounds like a better deal than all the failed marriages and bitterness and shit he sees his brothers go through, and put their kids through.

Maybe that'll change if he somehow finds his dream girl and falls down the rabbit hole or something, but…. Yeah. If he ever decides for sure he wants 'em, or she says something about deciding she does, he might actually bring the idea up. Until then…. Well, he's sure as hell gonna be more diligent about wrapping his shit. They'll probably still trip up occasionally, but there's no point in tempting fate. Any more marathon sex days, he's bringing a couple fresh boxes of condoms to make sure they have plenty.

If she's even still interested in fucking him once he gets out. He's never asked if she's still fucking other people in addition to him, and he also hasn't asked if she's fucking anyone else without him around to see to her needs.

They don't have any commitments to each other, after all.

If she's still down to keep up their arrangement when he gets out next spring, he should definitely find out. At this point, he'd be willing to commit to her being the only bitch in Tacoma he fucks, at the very least. She keeps him satisfied, down to do pretty much anything most of the time - she's only said no a few times, usually if she wasn't feeling well, or there's a psychological reason that she doesn't want to do a particular thing (previously the only real personal information he'd had about her, offered after the first and only time he'd tried to grab her hair and she'd immediately launched into a massive panic attack), neither of which he can even be mildly annoyed about.

Plus, she's just so…. Normal. It's the main thing that had drawn him to her in the first place, and the appeal hasn't faded. She's a welcome break from the high-stress, almost cartoonish life of being in the club.

The only time he might really be tempted to use the sweetbutts is if he's out of town on a run for more than a few days.

Then there's the whole thing about her dad. He'd suspected she had some kind of connection to the life, but he'd expected something like she'd been with a biker for awhile when she was younger or something. Wild summer in college, or whatever.

Her acceptance and vague familiarity being from such a random connection…. Researching her dad leading her to the 99-percent side of his world…. Anyone who's more than surface-level involved will start hearing stories and getting little bits of information about the one-percent clubs like the Sons. Nothing incriminating or anything, no details, but generalities, certainly. Maybe even some things specific to different clubs, depending on which one is top dog in the area and how involved the guys in it are in the wider biker world of the region.

Sons are big on giving back to the community, and tend to be very involved in "straight" club events in the area. Charity toy runs, fundraising poker runs, local shows with competitions.

Turning what she'd told him about her dad over in his mind, the little that she knew, he tries to figure out what was up with that. Blue had been around back then, maybe she has a picture or something that he can show his pres to get a name for her, at least. Happy's suspicion is that the guy is dead, but he'd like to confirm it for her. He has to be careful about asking questions like that, though. In fact, he may need to tell Blue more than he really wants to about her before he asks anything.

No need to start suspicions about him getting turned inside by asking about old, disappeared, members while he's in jail, or right after getting out.

And her mom. He has even less information about the mother, but he'd guess a one-night stand or former sweetbutt that had left when she'd gotten knocked up. Maybe even in Charming, just a few hours away from Bako, but it could really be anywhere. Andi has said some things about her grandparents, maybe the mom had moved home to them when she got pregnant.

"Jensen, mail." the bored voice of the guard walking around handing out envelopes barks into their cell, prompting Al to get up and take the letter that's poked through the bars. "Tell Cochran and Ambray they can pick theirs up at dinner." he says, referencing 2 of their other roommates who aren't in the cell at the moment.

Before the guy can walk off, Happy speaks up. "Hey, can I get out to the phone booth when you're done?" The county jail is far from max-security, but their cell doors are closed and locked at all times, to reduce the likelihood of people who don't belong in there going in and cornering people. They have to be let in and out, and escorted to the various places they can go - mess for meals, shower room, infirmary, visit room, etc.

The guard immediately pulls out keys to let him out waving down the corridor to call another guard over. "You can go now."

The phone booth isn't really a booth, as such. It's a room right next to visitation that has banks of phones along the walls, uncomfortable plastic chairs in front of each one, partitioned off with narrow boards for a modicum of privacy.

Dialling her number from memory by now, he listens as she accepts the collect charges.

"Kinda wasn't expecting you to call." It's only now that he remembers she'd told him to call if he still wanted her to keep visiting.

"You did what you had to. Everything you said makes sense. I just… gotta figure out how I feel about some shit." he tries to reassure her that he doesn't hate her or something. He hears her sigh of relief on the other end of the line. "But, I was actually calling about something else."

"Oh?" she asks, sounding startled. That makes sense. This whole talking with purpose thing is still new for them.

"Do you have pictures of your parents?" he asks.

There's a long pause before Andi answers. "Yeah, some. Only one of my father, a half-dozen or so of my mom over the years. I gave most of them to my aunt when mom died."

Shit. He hadn't caught before that every reference to her mother had been in the past-tense. He'd written it off as being because they were talking about the past. "There's a guy in Tacoma that was around back then. I can see if he'll meet you and take a look. He may be able to give you a name, possibly more, but you'll have to tell him the whole story. Explain who you are and that you just want to know about your dad so he doesn't think either of us is digging into shit that we shouldn't be." He doesn't get more specific, both because she doesn't need to know about club shit and because the line isn't secure.

The breath she lets out this time sounds shaky, like she's not sure.

"He's a good guy - actually the charter pres. He won't hurt you or any shit like that."

Andi huffs out a small laugh at that. "I know. Sons have a reputation, but everyone knows you don't hurt innocents if it can be avoided. And I haven't done anything to deserve it." There's another pause before she spits out a reply like she is saying it before she can change her mind. "Fuck. Okay. My schedule hasn't changed, if he's willing to meet me, send him over to my house whenever I'm home."

He smiles at her trust in him and, ultimately, the club. "Nah, if he's willing to meet you, I'll have you two meet up at my place." Kozik had been near the end of his apartment lease when Hap had gone inside, so he'd moved into Hap's spare room and taken over paying the rent until Happy gets out so he didn't have to put all his shit in storage and find somewhere new when he gets out. She'd only been there a few times in the year they'd known each other, but she knows where the hide-a-key is if Koz isn't home.

"Okay. I guess give him my number or something then so we can coordinate?" she tries again.

Again, he corrects her. "I'll call you back with details if he's in. Since scheduling shit can go haywire fast, it'll be in the next couple days. Maybe even tonight." he informs her, looking at the clock on the wall by the door. It's not even midday on a Sunday. And he doesn't want the club, even his Prez, who he trusts - having her address or number. There's no need for them to contact her, especially with him here. She's on his emergency contacts list along with Spanner's Old Lady, Junie. This is one situation that it particularly sucks having his ma so far away.

"Oh." this time, it's less curious and more overwhelmed-sounding.

"Alright, I'll call him now and call you back to let you know in a bit." there's empty phones and no line, so he won't be made to wait between calls.

"Okay. Talk in a bit." she says before the dial tone sounds as she hangs up.

Happy props the headset between his ear and shoulder as he hits the switch on the cradle to "end" his call before letting it up and going through the same dialling process again, but to the clubhouse number. Everyone will still be dragging themselves out of the comas they'd drunk themselves into last night, Blue is almost sure to be there.

"'Lo?" a groggy voice answers after accepting the charges.

"Spanner?" Happy confirms that it's the club secretary he's hearing.

"Hap." the voice is marginally more alert. "Was wonderin' who was calling from county, thought for a minute someone else got locked up and we didn't know. Whaddya need, brother?" Yeah, Happy isn't exactly known for calling to check in on things. That whole 'not talking' rep he has.

"Blue still there? Need to talk to him about somethin' personal."

The silence is almost tangibly curious. As far as most of the guys know, Happy doesn't have a personal life outside of the club except his mom and aunt and a couple cousins down in southern California. "Yeah, let me go see if he's up." Spanner eventually says and the next minute or so, Hap listens to the sound of footsteps on stairs and pounding on a door and muffled voices as Spanner takes the cordless with him up to the dorms and rouses their president.

"Happy?" Blue's voice appears, sounding a little groggy still, but fairly clear despite the hangover Happy knows he probably has.

"Yeah. I have a favor to ask."

The reply is immediate. "Sure." The club goes out of it's way to take care of shit for members who are doing time for the club, so there's no hesitation in his voice.

Happy knows that may very well change in a minute. "If you're free for a bit sometime the next couple days, I need you to meet a friend of mine at my place."

"A friend?" Blue's voice sounds just as curious as Spanner's had been upon Happy saying he needs to talk about personal shit.

"A chick. I've known her awhile, but just recently found out her dad may have been a Son. She isn't sure - only saw him a couple times a year, if that. Never in leather, but always on a Harley, and he had some ink that links back to us. She don't even know his name. Has a photo though. Told her I'd ask if you were willing to take a look and see if you could at least put a name to his face for her." Happy explains.

"Well, shit, brother. I think that's the longest I've ever heard you talk, and it might be the weirdest favor a member on the inside has ever asked me for." Blue is stalling for time as he mulls over whether he wants to do it or not. "She your girl or somethin'?"

"Or somethin'." is Happy's simple response. "We grew up in the same area, went to rival high schools…. Bumped into her up here… shit, over a year ago, now. We're friends."

He can feel the skepticism radiating down the phone line. Sons aren't well known for having friends that are females, period, much less ones that are outside the club.

"Look, I know it's a fucking random thing to ask and probably sounds sketch as hell. If you aren't up for it, that's fine, man. But I just wanted to ask. I mean, not knowing who your dad is is one thing, but having memories of him, knowing little bits of shit, but not anything real? Even a name? I know it would drive me fucking crazy." Happy tries to explain why he's asking and assure his Pres he won't be upset if the answer is no.

"Yeah, it'd drive me up the wall, too." Blue sighs out. "Alright. I got a couple things to take care of here, but I should be free this afternoon unless some shit pops off between now and then. Have her meet me there at 4."

"Thanks, Pres. Koz is stayin' there, so he can give you a key or let you in. Andi knows where the hide-a-key is, so she may already be there if Koz isn't. Drives a black Honda with bumper stickers all over the rear fender, it'll be in the driveway or on the curb if she is."

"Andy? Interesting name for a chick." Blue comments.

"Andrea. Goes by Andi. I gotta call her to let her know. Thanks again, man." Happy waits for the bland confirmation before hanging up and redialling Andi's number.

"Hey." is her anxious-sounding answer.

"Blue'll be at my place around 4." he tells her immediately. "Koz may or may not be there. I don't know, I haven't talked to him."

"Wow. Just like that? I might actually find out who my dad is in a few hours?" she sounds overwhelmed still.

"Yeah. Just like that. Like I said, just explain the situation. If you got an old photo of your mom, take that with the one of your dad. May help him remember if she hung around a clubhouse." he tells her.

"Okay." she agrees, before pausing. Then, "David?" she sounds worried about something.

"Yeah?"

"Are we really okay?"

Sighing, he hunches and rubs his head. "We will be. Like I said, I get it. And I think I'm on my way to figuring some shit out. But we're gonna have to do the whole 'getting to know you' thing for real this time, and have a talk when I get out about what we both want. Like, long term."

"Okay. Do you still want me to visit?" her voice is small.

"Yeah." he answers immediately.

"Good." she sounds relieved. "I… should go dig up those pictures. I think they're in a box in the spare room, but I'm not sure."

"A'ight." he agrees. "Don't forget him and whoever else may be there will be calling me Happy or Hap." he reminds her. He'd told her in general terms about the whole club nicknames thing, and what his is when she'd asked, but she's only ever called him by his real name.

"Right." she affirms in a tone that he thinks means she'd forgotten, so it's good he'd said something. "You gonna call again anytime soon, or should I just tell you about it when I visit in a couple weeks?"

"I'll probably call next week."

"Cool. I'm really gonna go, then. Talk to you later."

He hangs up and moves to the chairs along the wall by the door, indicating he's ready to head back to his cell - or, more likely, lunch, given the time - when there's a guard free. Trying not to worry, he can't help but hope it goes well and Blue's able to tell her something.

Because at least part of the mix of emotions he'd started sorting out this morning is guilt that she'd had to go through the whole abortion thing by herself when he should've been there supporting her. He can't change that, but maybe he can do this for her. Help her figure out something that's obviously been bothering her for years.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

"Wait, your dad is Norm the Nomad?" Happy says into the phone, stunned.

It's the day after Christmas. Phones had been in use nonstop all day yesterday with the holiday, so, much as he wanted to call Andi then, he'd only been able to talk to his ma and aunt for an allotted 20 minutes.

"You know him?" she asks.

Blowing a huff of breath out, he answers. "I've never met him, but I know OF him. What'd Blue tell you about him other than his name?"

She'd just relayed the name Blue had given her upon seeing the old Polaroid of her dad that is the only photo she has of him. Norman Richardson, known around the club as Norm the Nomad.

He's almost an urban legend to much of the newer generation, like Happy. The driving force behind starting the Nomad charter, which he'd been the President of until the end of the first Mayan war. He'd done some time, then taken off soon after that, turning the President patch over to the current head, Rane Quinn, and making a pilgrimage through Canada and forging allyships with most of the northern clubs, some of which later patched over. After that, he'd gone intercontinental along with Bullseye Bucky, both of them sailing to Australia with their bikes, and recruiting guys to found the first charter there. There's 3 now, but rumor is that he's rarely even at those clubhouses, instead spending weeks and sometimes months at a time out in the Australian bush.

"Not a ton. I told him when he stopped coming to see me and he said that my dad did about a year on some weapons charge around that time, then kinda took off. Something about Canada and Australia?" she answers almost frustratedly.

Hap confirms that. "Yeah, from what I know, he toured Canada for like 4 or 5 months, then took off with another member to Australia, and they founded the first Sons charter there. I don't think anyone stateside has actually seen or talked to him since like '90 or '91."

This is the biggest plot twist yet.

He'd thought that her having possibly/probably a Son for a dad who'd mysteriously disappeared during the first Mayan war was unexpected, but the fact that he's not only not reduced to bones in a shallow grave somewhere, but also a club legend? Talk about a mindfuck.

"Did he recognize your mom?" Hap asks, curious what her story is now.

"Said she looked familiar, like he met her a few times at some clubhouse or another, but he couldn't say which one." Andi relays.

Happy cringes. Blue 'meeting a chick a few times at a clubhouse' is most likely his way of being delicate about saying she looks familiar enough that Blue is pretty sure he'd fucked her a few times back in the day. Sweetbutt, then. Which makes him wonder further if Norm is ACTUALLY her father or just the guy that stepped up to go check on the sweetbutt that got knocked up and decided to keep an eye on the kid that is likely the offspring of one Son or another, whether she's actually his or not. He'd have to try and see this photo himself to determine if there's any resemblance.

She seems to read his mind. "She was one of those girls that hangs out at a clubhouse and fucks whatever member wants her, wasn't she?" Andi asks, sounding exasperated.

"Probably." he answers honestly.

"So he might not even be my dad." she states.

Well, Happy'd certainly never thought she was dumb, and she knows just enough about club life to be able to see a couple of 2s and throw 'em together to get 4.

He's saved from having to answer by a guard tapping him on the shoulder and giving him the universal signal to wrap it up before swiftly moving on down the line to do the same to the rest of the guys in the booth. Glancing at the clock, he sees it's nearly time for evening count, him having come in after dinner and having had to wait to get a phone. "I gotta go, it's almost time for evening count, and I have to be in my cell."

"Okay. I'll see you in a week and a half. Be safe." Andi tells him and they quickly make their goodbyes.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

It's not the first time Happy'd been in jail, but it had been the longest stretch to date, and he'd severely underestimated how much he'd missed not showering with 15 other dudes at a time, in lukewarm water, with no water pressure to speak of.

He'd been released the day before, and gotten the customary 'welcome home' party last night, brothers practically pouring shots into him and several sweetbutts lining up to welcome him home. Them, he'd kept more in check, only allowing 2 of them to suck him off - at different times - to take the edge off and keep his brothers from asking too many questions.

Now, it's mid-afternoon on a Friday at the end of April, and he's finally back in his own home. Well, his and Kozik's now, but not for long. They'd already found out the hard way a few years back that they don't live together well for any more than a couple weeks. Koz had already told him he's begun looking for a new place of his own now that Happy's out.

Piping hot water pounds his shoulders and flows down him, easing the remnants of the hangover he'd woken with.

When the door to the bathroom opens, he looks over through the clear plastic shower curtain, ready to bark at Koz that whatever he needs can wait or to piss in the back yard. Instead, he is pleasantly surprised to find Andi slipping in and shutting the door behind her. He watches intently as she strips out of her clothes with no ceremony and moves to join him in the bathtub.

"I told my boss I had a doctor's appointment and had to leave early." she explains even as her hands make contact with his chest, and begin running slowly, along with her eyes, over the bulked out, or more defined, muscles all over his body.

It's a stereotype for a reason; there's only so much to do in jail or prison, and when you're going stir crazy, the best option is to work out. The only other alternative is to start fighting, and that'll just get your sentence extended and/or you sent to solitary.

Not idle, he immediately returns the attention, running his own hands over her in return, cataloguing the changes to her body. They aren't obvious, and he only really notices because he'd spent so damn much time fucking her, then remembering fucking her to get through a long-ass 8 months. He thinks she's started working out as well. Muscles in her arms seem a little more defined as they flex to move her hands, her stomach is a bit flatter, her thighs and ass just a little more sculpted.

Her face is the biggest change, having lost the slight roundness in the cheeks, making her cheekbones stand out more and her lips look fuller. That part isn't a surprise, though. She'd come to visit him every 3 or 4 weeks, so he'd noticed that change gradually happening over the last few months.

Leaning down, he's quick to capture her lips in a kiss and is glad he'd brushed his teeth immediately upon getting home so he didn't still taste like stale puke and whiskey.

Turning them so they are both sideways under the hot spray, Happy enjoys just kissing and touching her for a few minutes. He's not surprised when it takes very little to make him hard, his dick poking into her lower stomach making her smile into his kisses before she reaches a hand down to run over him. It's only a couple minutes before he's letting out a groan into her now-wet hair as his lower body spasms and he blows a load over her.

Once he's recovered, he moves to reach down and return the favor, but she shakes her head and stops him.

"If we start in the shower, the water's gonna get cold and we'll be fucking against the wall without a condom again." she reminds him of the abbreviated talk they'd had recently of both being more diligent about remembering them, since they are both interested in continuing this, even with her on a new, internal type of birth control.

Happy groans again for a different reason, but agrees.

"You almost done in here? And are we staying here or going back to my place?" she questions even as her hands keep stroking over his skin.

"Yeah, I was just enjoying hot water with good pressure for a few before I got out." he tells her, turning to twist the nobs to shut the water off. As they climb out, he hands her the towel he'd set out for himself, then bends to grab another one from under the sink. "And, your house. Fuck knows when Koz'll roll in here, and I have no intention of being interrupted tonight."

Blue had slapped him on the back when he'd stumbled out of a dorm this morning feeling barely alive and told him to take until Church tomorrow, take care of whatever he needed to to get immediate life back in order. Since Koz had been taking care of rent and making sure bills were paid, and his bike had been tuned up by whatever member had time in the garage before they'd picked him up, Hap doesn't actually have much to do.

It's as he's hanging the damp towels over the bar and watching Andi pull her clothes back on that he realizes Blue had been telling him to figure out what was going on with her.

Happy's pretty sure the club as a whole is still in the dark about her, but fuck knows how, considering the mouth on Kozik. Maybe he'd actually been able to keep quiet for once about something. Not that Koz can't keep a secret. The important club shit is tight as a vault with him. But relatively trivial bullshit like someone possibly having a chick outside the club would usually be fair game for the gossip mill.

It's no surprise that Blue had kept it tight, though, between the fact that Hap hadn't mentioned or brought her around the club at all, and the possible drama getting dredged up with her possibly being Norm's kid. Or, if not Norm's kid, then almost certainly some other Son's.

Pulling on his boxers from earlier, he gathers up the rest of his clothes and leads them out into the hall, heading for his bedroom.

"I'm gonna head out now and run by the grocery store. Anything in particular you want for dinner?" Andi asks behind him, stopping instead of going into his room. When he turns to her with a wide grin, she clarifies, "Besides my pussy?"

Chuckling, he says, "I don't care, I just want actual food instead of the slop I've gotten for the last 8 months."

"Okay," she acknowledges lightly. "I'll meet you at my house in a bit." With this she walks off and lets herself out as casually as she'd let herself in.

A few hours later, he sits on Andi's couch, belly full of the steak dinner she'd made him, listening as she loads the last of the dishes into her dishwasher as he flips through channels on the tv despite already knowing there's not going to be anything he's interested in on at just shy of 7. Settling on some random sitcom, he leaves the volume low, knowing they'll just be talking over it anyway.

He'd brought fresh beers for both of them, since they'd finished theirs with dinner, and she snatches hers up from the coffee table as she moves in front of him and plops down half-facing him nearby in the corner of the sectional.

After taking a drink from his own, he adjusts to partially face her as well, asking, "You ready to do this now?"

Other than deciding they both want to continue what they have going, they really hadn't had the talk they need to about what exactly it's going to mean going forward and what they both want. He's not one to talk about shit like that, not considering many long-term plans with how unpredictable his life is. He gets the feeling she isn't a long-term thinker either, but doesn't know her reasons for it.

What he does know is that her dad - or the guy she grew up calling her dad, at least - had barely been a presence in her life to begin with, then he'd disappeared without a word when she was 12, and her mother had died in a car accident when she was 20 after almost 3 years of estrangement, as she'd been kicked out as soon as she'd graduated from high school. The chances of her not having abandonment issues are slim to none. That's before he starts unpacking all the other possible baggage she may have that he just has little or no idea about yet.

A jail visitation room with plexi-glass between them isn't the best to really have deep talks. After that first one about his dad and her parents, they'd kept it much more surface, and current. Hap now has a better idea what exactly she does at work - professional bill-payer, for a freight company down near the port, she'd explained when he'd had no idea what the fuck an accounts payable specialist was - and has heard stories from her college years just north of here in Seattle. In exchange, he'd told her more stories about guys in the club (the ones that were safe enough to tell in that environment) and about other aspects of his current life.

"Yeah, I just don't know where to start." Andi answers.

Deciding to just tell her what he wants and see how she reacts, Happy starts talking. "I want us to keep telling each other shit. Actually getting to know each other, being real friends instead of the half-ass shit we were doing before. Definitely wanna keep fucking you."

She nods without hesitation. "I'm on board with all that. It's the long term shit that I just don't fucking know."

"The kid thing-" she tenses instantly at these words, and he wonders what she's expecting him to do or say to cause that reaction. He's already told her he's not mad, but he can't not be affected by what happened. It's definitely something they need to talk about as long as they are going to keep having sex; they're almost sure to forget a rubber again at some point, or one will break, and birth control isn't 100% effective. "I'm not looking to have rugrats running around anytime soon, but I'm not entirely opposed to it either. If we slip up and you get pregnant again, I just want you to make an effort to talk to me about it if you can. Chances are, I'll be fine with whatever you want. If I'm gonna get tied to a woman for 18 years, I'd rather it be a friend that I can actually stand being around and talking to than some random bitch around the clubhouse."

Letting out the breath she'd apparently been holding, Andi starts picking at the label on her bottle for a long minute before answering. "I don't know what I want. I guess you're right in that, if it happens, you'd hardly be the worst option to raise a kid with…. Assuming you were around. It's hard to think about doing it alone if you end up in jail again, or in prison for a longer stretch, or…." her eyes drift behind him to where he knows his kutte is hanging on her coat hooks.

Hap nods, acknowledging that his life doesn't come without a significant element of risk. "I can't promise to always be there, but I can promise I won't just take off on you, and, if we have a kid, the club would let you know if anything ever happened to me. Help you out on my behalf in that case, or if I'm inside for a longer stretch. There's also still my family down in Bako. Ma would be beyond fucking thrilled to be a grandma, so you probably wouldn't be able to ditch her or my aunt if you tried."

This manages to draw out a small smile.

Unbelievably, that was the easy part. So Hap steels himself to move into the more difficult stuff. "I've never asked if you're fucking anyone else since we started this, because we don't have any commitments." she opens her mouth but he keeps going over her. "But if we're gonna keep this up indefinitely, I at least want to be the only guy you're screwing. I'm a possessive asshole, sharing isn't my thing. And if we do get back in that situation, I want there to be absolutely no question if I'm the father or not."

She huffs and waits a beat to make sure he's done before opening her mouth again. "For the record, no, I haven't fucked anyone else since that second time you picked me up. I never asked either, because I know you guys have girls that hang around and fuck whoever. As for making us exclusive fuck-buddies, then I expect the same courtesy. You wanna go back to fucking them, end this first."

He'd both expected that and been prepared to accede. "I've hardly touched them since that second time I picked you up, too. A couple blowjobs, but, honestly, it was mostly to shut up my club brothers, not because I wanted to. I'll just tell 'em to fuck off from here out." Happy hopes that's sufficiently reassuring.

"And that infamous rule about things that happen on runs?" she inquires with a primly arched eyebrow.

He cringes. Shit. He wasn't aware it was that well-known that she would've picked it up from going to shows and shit. "The ones I've been on that are a few days here and there, I've been fine going without. Longer than that…" he trails off as her lips purse, and he recognizes the warning signs of her about to shut down negotiations completely. A voice that sounds suspiciously like his mother rings out in his head, saying 'You don't ask anyone else for anything you aren't willing to give…..' "I'll make do with my hand." he tries to keep the very slight hesitation out of his voice.

He's not really that disappointed to not be able to get sucked off my some random sweetbutt in another city, but that's where it will be most obvious to his brothers that he isn't touching them at all. By now, they're pretty use to him not bothering with them much around Tacoma, but on runs? It would be expected.

Andi relaxes, though, so he figures knowing she isn't touching anyone else and isn't worrying about him turning hypocrite is worth getting a bit of shit.

"Good. If you want peace of mind that you'd definitely be my baby-daddy, then I sure as fuck don't want some other bitch popping up claiming to be your baby-momma."

He hadn't even thought about that, but it's a valid point.

Pausing to take a long drink from the bottle in his hand, he watches her do the same before he gets to the last part. "I know you don't want a boyfriend, or an Old Man, right now. Long as we're both stayin' away from other people, I'm cool with that. If that changes, fucking tell me, so we can talk about it."

"Talk about it? I thought you don't do girlfriends?" she asks curiously, referencing back to that second night again.

"I don't." he confirms. "Usually. Kinda like with the kids thing, if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it with someone that I actually like and can stand to be around. We're already exclusively fucking, and friends. Told you before that I give a damn, that hasn't changed. Step from that to girlfriend is a matter of what I call you and maybe spending more time together. Old Lady would be a bigger change, but that would be a totally different conversation."

This is something he'd done almost as much thinking about as the kids thing. He doesn't have the time or inclination to try and find a woman that's chill with all the club shit and also doesn't annoy the hell out of him. That's unlikely to change anytime soon; club business, the garage, and tattooing keep him busy. His off time is spent largely around the club. Finding Andi at all had been a fortuitous accident that he isn't delusional enough to think may happen again.

There's just one catch. "If you get to the point of wanting that, but aren't interested in having it with me, I'll respect that, but I'm still gonna be your fucking friend, and if you think I'm about to let you date any asshole that ain't gonna treat you right or isn't good enough, you can think again." he lays all the cards out on the table so she can't ever say she wasn't expecting whatever happens. Well, with this.

He gets a full smile at that one before she leans forward to set her half-empty beer on the coffee table, then crawls over to his side of the couch and relieves him of his remaining brew as well. Moments later, she's in his lap, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth to nibble on it before kissing him soundly.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

Happy leans against the side of the ring, swigging a beer and watching intently as Tig and Kozik go rounds in front of him, ready to jump up and interfere if necessary.

The two men are absolutely vicious with each other, and he's one of few who understands why. Who knows that they hadn't been just roommates up in Tacoma. Tig had moved down here, patching back over to Redwood, nearly 4 years ago, after Kozik's drug use had gotten out of control and their dog, Missy, had gotten into his carelessly-hidden stash, tearing open the baggies of blow curiously and inhaling a fuckton of it.

It had been the last straw for Tig, who had reported the problem to Blue and Lee in private before marching into Church and demanding a vote for his own release. He'd been packed and had a prospect following him in a van back to Cali in a matter of days, while Koz was out at one of the cabins for some SOA-style rehab.

Koz isn't pissed about his drug problems getting to the club - he's been clean ever since and is actually grateful for the intervention - but he DOES resent Tig for just up and leaving and not supporting him at all through it, or even bothering to say goodbye.

Hap doesn't know their whole story, but from what he's figured out from the bits he'd either witnessed or that Kozik had drunkenly let slip, they'd basically had some on-again-off-again thing, when neither of them happened to be with some chick that they invariably ended up fucking hating, since the Marines. When Charming had started riding heavy for membership in the mid-90s, Tig had patched up to Tacoma, where there's always plenty of work to go around, and moved straight in with Koz. He's fairly certain they'd never labelled it, or whatever, since they both still fucked sweetbutts regularly, but they'd basically been together for the 2-and-a-half years Tig had been up north.

He has no idea who else even knows about the other parts of the relationship between the 2 men. It's not unheard of, but it's also something that's just not talked about in their world. Happy only knows because Koz had been his sponsor and they'd always been pretty close. As close as Happy got to people, anyway.

Suddenly, he realizes there's a body pasted to his side, one hand on the reaper on his back and the other making it's way up his shirt.

Turning his head with a glare and a scowl plastered on his face, he growls out, "Unless you wanna lose both those hands, you better get 'em the fuck offa me." The sweetbutt's eyes widen comically and she almost trips stepping back from him so quickly and trying to dodge people in the slight crowd around them.

Hap's attention goes back to the ring, where Bobby Elvis has dinged the bell and declared Koz the winner this time, and watches as the 2 still-furious men refuse to hug it out, snarling at each other and vacating through different sides of the ring instead. Koz hops down beside him, taking the bottle of water and bar towel that had appeared at some point next to the tee shirt and kutte that Happy had been guarding. After slinging the towel over his neck, he twists off the bottle cap and starts rinsing his mouth, then drinking it, avoiding Hap's knowing gaze.

Kozik is saved from whatever Happy is going to say by a curious question from the newest Redwood patch, Kyle. "Man, that sweetbutt bite your dick last time or something? You scared her off faster than she could even try it with you."

The too-pleased, grinning face of his best friend only just avoids getting punched again straight out of the ring because Hap's too busy glaring at the kid. "Oh did he?" the idiot's smug voice teases, just like it had been for the last 5 nights.

It's Hap's first major run since getting out just over a month ago, and he and the 3 other Tacoma guys with him had made a loop through Montana and down to Denver, then Tucson, with deliveries for all 3 places in the panel-van driven behind them by a prospect. The first night had been in some random motel just off of 90, so there hadn't been any notice taken. The subsequent 3 nights in Denver and 2 in Tucson, however, it had definitely been noted that he wasn't partying with the rest of them. All seasoned riders by this point, they knew better than to get too fucked up on a run, but his brothers had all hit the new-to-them pussy with gusto.

But he'd been a good boy, pushing girls off him and laying low, hanging out with the local guys who had Old Ladies that weren't hittin' it either for awhile, before retreating to his room to call Andi. A couple times, he'd managed to get some phone sex to jerk off to out of her, but most of the time, it was quick conversations just to let her know he was still alive.

She'd confided in him before his first overnight run after 2 weeks of being out that, before, she'd always worried about his safety when she knew he was out on runs. When she'd said it, he'd also realized that him going out probably brings some of those abandonment issues up. Watching her dad ride off and having no idea if or when he'd be back had almost certainly given her some anxiety about it. Especially since he knows she'd thought he was dead for so many years.

Hap doesn't blame her; after his dad had been killed, he'd been terrified of his mom stopping for gas for years before he started processing the loss.

Knowing what he now does about the Norm situation and not seeing any sense in making her worry unnecessarily; he'd simply called her starting that very first night when they'd gotten to the motel so she could hear for herself that he's fine and he'll be coming back. Tonight in Charming is the last night before they spend all day on the road tomorrow to get home, and Happy is definitely looking forward to bending her over the side of the bed and fucking her until she screams.

Not responding to either of the dumbfucks in front of him, Happy turns and starts clomping his way into the clubhouse, heading straight back to his dorm for the night, hearing the kid ask Koz what his problem is as he goes.

If he thought the kid had half a chance against him, he'd just haul him straight up to the ring for a good fight, but the only other guys here that are ruthless enough to give him a good fight are Tig and Koz, neither of whom were up for another bout tonight. Jax and Opie are decent fighters, but they're both too laid back for him to really get any aggression out, and most of the rest of Redwood right now is on the older side, generally past their fighting-for-pleasure years.

In his room, he hits the green button on her contact info and puts the cell phone to his ear.

Three rings, then, "Hey, you. I was just getting in bed and thinking about you." Andi's voice sounds.

Already kicking off his boots and unbuckling his belt to prepare for bed as well, too annoyed to go back out after this, Hap teasingly asks, "Oh yeah? What were you thinking about me?"

"Well, I'm wearing one of your shirts to bed, and I know how much you like when I wear your clothes." He can hear the smile in her voice.

She's not wrong. When she sleepily pulls on his tee shirt from the day before to go out and make them coffee or something, that possessive part of his brain goes nuts. He almost invariably ends up cornering her against the nearest handy surface and going down on her while she's still wearing it.

Happy deliberately doesn't think about the number of days he reclaims the shirts from her after that and wears them for a second day in a row to smell her on it around him.

Schucking his pants, boxers, and socks off, he says, "But I don't like when you wear clothes to bed. They get in the way." He has to do some juggling to pull his kutte and shirt off.

"Oh? What are you gonna do about it?" it's now her voice that's teasing, perfectly aware of both what he wants and how to push his buttons. He's definitely the more dominant one when it comes to sex, and her teasing him like this in person is always a surefire way to get him to be a little extra rough with her.

"Gonna get you on your stomach, hold both your wrists behind your back, and spank that perky little ass of your until you promise to behave." he almost growls out, already hard as he settles back on the bed.

She chuckles low in her throat. "Might take awhile, I'm not very good at doing what I'm told."

"Guess you're gonna have some bruises on your ass for a few days, then." Happy can see it behind his eyelids. It wouldn't be the first time that happened. He'd give each cheek a few hard slaps, turning them pink, then she'd mouth off again and start squirming, so he'd lay down a few more harder smacks until her whole ass glows red. If she follows directions and asks nicely, he'll stop there and take her hard from behind. If not, he'll keep spanking her until she begs.

On one notable occasion, her ass had been black and purple for over a week when she'd started begging, but instead of begging him to fuck her, she begged for him to get his belt and keep going.

That night had scared him much more than it had her. He does a lot of fucked up shit for the club, and even enjoys most of it. That side of him finding it's way into her bedroom, with her,…. worries him.

"Mmmm…." she moans out. "A sore ass sounds like a fantastic birthday present."

Her birthday is next Friday, and he'd already arranged to swap warehouse shifts with someone and informed Blue and Lee that he'd be unavailable for the weekend and not at Church that Saturday. Neither thing is very like him, particularly right after coming in off a run, and Lee had raised both eyebrows while Blue had hidden a look of amusement.

"You got that shirt off yet?" he demands, hand stroking himself, pausing to spread the drip of precum for a little help.

"No." she titters out impertinently. "But I do have it pushed up so I can play with my tits."

Groaning, he listens to her start describing, in detail, what she's doing to herself, idly thinking that this is better than a 5-minute fuck with some random, nameless, faceless sweetbutt any day.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

She's visibly stiff as she climbs off his bike in front of the motel, but smiling widely, and Happy is glad he'd planned this. He forgets, sometimes, that she loves bikes and riding almost as much as him, and doesn't get to indulge very often unless he takes her out.

They're in Boise.

Happy, having gotten a copy of her house key after coming back from county to let himself in or lock up as he leaves, had packed her sufficient clothes and toiletries for the weekend into one of his saddlebags and had jeans and a top ready, along with thick socks and her combat boots that she hardly ever wears, when she'd gotten home from work on Friday. She'd changed and attempted to get an explanation out of him to no avail before grabbing her helmet - dug out of storage last summer when he actually had started taking her out on rides fairly regularly - and swinging onto his bitch seat behind him.

They'd ridden almost straight through to Boise and he's glad he had at least told her enough ahead of time that she needed to schedule a half-day at work, otherwise they wouldn't have been rolling in until well after midnight.

As it is, it's after 8 and they hadn't eaten since snacks at a gas station in Yakima nearly 6 hours ago.

Happy, much more used to long hauls, stands more easily, hanging both their helmets and moving off to check them into the motel for the weekend. It's on the nice side as far as motels go - much nicer than what the club usually crashes in on runs when they need to - but the desk clerk still doesn't even blink at his kutte as he hands over cash for 2 nights and gets a key in return. It's actually a little odd, most people at least take some note.

When he pulls them around to the back where their room is, he understands why. Half the parking spaces have bikes in them, all probably here for the same thing they are. The classic car and bike show at the fairgrounds nearby this weekend. Today had actually been the first day, but it goes through Sunday afternoon, so Happy doesn't think they'll have missed much being on the road.

"Are you gonna tell me what we're doing here yet? Is there a charity run or something?" Andi asks, climbing off again and swivelling her head to check out the bikes around them, glinting in the late-evening sun.

"Car and bike show." he explains shortly, handing her the room key and beginning to unhook his bags to take in with them.

If possible, her grin gets even wider, and she only just waits for him to get the bags off before nearly skipping up the stairs to the second floor and down the open-air corridor to their room. Inside, she throws the bolt and immediately bends to unlace her boots and pull them and her socks off. "Oh, sweet freedom…." she mutters, making him laugh. Andi's a flipflops girl anytime she can get away with it.

Now that he's set the bags down, she pounces, crashing into him and throwing her arms around his neck, still with a wide smile on her face. "Thank you. Perfect birthday present!" she insists before leaning up to kiss him.

He's turning her toward the bed and reaching back to remove his gun from the holster in his jeans so it doesn't discharge when his pants hit the floor when there's a few firm knocks on the room door.

Happy's head whips around, hand diverting from it course toward the night table where he'd been about to set the Glock down and instead shifting it to a ready position. Why the hell would anyone be knocking on their door 2 minutes after they'd arrived? They aren't even loudly fucking yet.

"Ignore them, they'll go away." Andi mutters as her lips move down his neck.

He intends to do just that, but barely starts shifting toward the table again before the knocking comes again, more insistently, along with a familiar voice. "Hap! I know you're in there! My room's next door, I just watched you come in!"

Sighing out, "Fucking Tig…" he reluctantly pulls away and moves to the door, still gripping the .9, undecided if he wants to shoot his brother or not. Boise is a decent days' ride from any other charters, and the show isn't THAT high profile; he hadn't expected any other guys to be here. Or, if they were, sure as hell not at the same motel.

Roughly undoing the bolt, he yanks the door open just enough to stick his head out, planting his foot behind it so it can't be pushed further open. "If you just saw me come in then you know I'm not alone, asswipe. Did you actually fucking need something, or are you just cockblocking me for fun?"

"Yeah, I saw." Tig's shit eating grin is firmly in place. "That pretty little thing the reason you scared the shit out of every croweater that tried to push up on ya on your last run?"

He feels his glare intensify, but the crazy fuck only looks somehow more pleased as he growls out, "None o' your fuckin' business."

Tig hold his hands out to the side in a 'whaddya mean?' gesture. "C'mon, one of my best friends finally has a girl and he doesn't even tell me the good news? I'm hurt, Hap."

Happy feels Andi pushing him to let her look out before he can reply, and almost doesn't let her. When he glances back at her, she has a wry, amused expression that prompts him to twist and crack the door a few more inches. She wedges against him to look out at Tig and informs the man succinctly, "He doesn't have 'a girl'. He has a friend. And it's her birthday, and she's horny, so if you wouldn't mind fucking off so she can get naked and ride his face for awhile, that'd be great. If you want to gossip like a 13-year-old girl, you can do it at the show tomorrow."

Happy's smirking as Andi disregards Tig's surprised face and pushes them both back enough to shut the door again in his brother's face, throwing the bolt for a second time very loudly. This time, she takes the gun from his hand and swiftly makes her way to leave it on the table where he'd been intending to set it before, so he's less tempted to open the door again and possibly shoot Tig.

Taking the time to remove his own boots and socks, he watches as she strips efficiently, piling her clothes on one of the chairs next to a little table off to the side. Heading that direction, Happy follows her lead, though slower, aware she's watching each article of clothing come off intently. "You think you're gonna ride my face for awhile, huh? Didn't get enough riding on the way here?" he teases as he unbuckles his belt.

Andi licks her lips as her eyes trace the now-very-familiar lines of ink running over his torso. "Please. You love it when I cum on your face almost as much as when you cum all over mine."

He can't help the grin that appears on his face to confirm that. His cell phone gets set down next to his gun as he ditches his jeans and underwear, then brushes past her to get the box of rubbers from one of the bags, tossing them onto the now-crowded night table before he makes himself comfortable on the bed.

"Well, what are ya waitin' for?" he teases when she takes a moment to join him, getting a rolling-eye reply as she crawls over the bed and arranges herself to straddle his shoulders.

As soon as she's in place over him, he grabs handfuls of her ass to pull her down onto his mouth, immediately sucking hard at her clit. Her hands go to the top of the headboard as some groan/sigh combo comes out of her mouth.

It would be easy to go in hard and force a couple out of her before he even gets inside her, but his mind flashes back to taking his time right before he'd gone inside, getting her to cum hard enough to squirt, and aims for that instead. Andi seems frustrated with the slow, indulgent pace, trying to rock against his face to get more friction or something, but he just shifts his grip to her hips to hold her still. It takes awhile, but eventually, she gives up and starts just enjoying the sensation.

One hand comes off the headboard to cup one of her tits, pinching and playing with the nipple, making Hap growl happily into her pussy at the sight. There's a steady stream of soft moans and pleading words coming from her mouth.

A gasped out "Oh fuck, David, I-" is the only warning he gets before a spray of hot liquid hits his chin and neck. He doesn't stop, sucking hard at the bundle of nerves until her whimpers and low moans increase in volume. She doesn't squirt again, but when her body starts shaking hard over him, he knows she'd hit orgasm number two right on the heels of number one.

Feeling the hard shuddering of her thighs, he relents when that one tapers off, allowing her to carefully climb off of him and sit down.

Sitting up, he grabs for the box beside the table and rips it open, tearing a packet off one of the strips in there and making fast work of suiting up. "On your knees." he orders, getting up to his own. In seconds, he's behind her, sliding into her delicious, hot, wet cunt with a satisfied sigh.

At the reappearance of the slow pace from before, Andi drops from holding herself up on her forearms to almost slamming her head into the comforter with a whine.

"You want somethin'?" he asks bossily. "You know how to get it."

"Goddamnit, David, will you stop teasing and just fuck me already?" she demands, half shouting.

"That's all you had to do." he tells her almost mockingly before he starts slamming into her roughly. He drags his blunt nails hard over her back, causing a hard shudder to run through her before he wraps an arm up under her chest, pulling her up and back to lean against his chest while her back arches to maintain an angle the he can keep fucking her.

Hands now free, she almost immediately starts touching herself. A nipple gets pinched and rolled as he watches over her shoulder with his harsh breaths hitting her ear and neck. Hap can't see the other hand, but he can feel her fingers as she rubs her clit, splitting down to feel him fucking her.

"You tryin' to make you cum, or me?" he asks. She knows playing with herself, particularly while he's already fucking her, drives him nuts.

The steady soundtrack of her heaving breaths, moans, and louder cries is briefly interrupted for her to answer. "Both." He responds by leaning a little further down to starts biting and sucking the spot under her ear that always gets a response. He's immediately rewarded by a stream of cuss words mixed with his name.

There's definitely something to be said for having a steady fuck buddy. They know how to drive each other up the wall by now, and he hardly ever misses fast and stringless fucks that aren't even in the same realm as shit like this.

Eventually, he knows he can't hold off much longer, grunting into her ear, "Need you to cum again for me, baby. Come on, let go, cum as hard as you can on this dick." he starts prompting.

As soon as her muscles clamp around him, whining exclamation of, "Fuck, yes!" ringing around the room, he tips over the edge right behind her, vision going white as he spasms as well, trying to keep both of them from crashing down in a pile on the bed. Once the worst of the shaking has stopped, he carefully pulls out of her and almost yanks the latex off, tying it off and tossing it in the general direction he'd noticed a garbage can before they both lay down to catch their breath.

From the other side of the wall the bed is against, there's a loud wolf-whistle and…

"Is your friend applauding us?" Andi asks incredulously as they lay side-by-side, both on their backs.

Jerking his shoulder in an approximation of a shrug, Happy replies, "Probably. It's definitely something he'd do."

"Right." she accepts it somewhat blandly. Changing the subject, she asks, "What are the chances of the shower being big enough for both of us?"

"Decent, but I doubt there's a big enough water tank for us to share." Them sharing a shower almost always leads to, at the least, just standing under the water and making out somewhere in the middle of actually washing. If they go separately, they're both pretty quick. Together, what would normally be a 5 or 7 minute shower turns into 30 minutes, easy.

He wonders sometimes, about their mutually high sex drives. The pair of them have trouble keeping hands - or lips, or genitals - off of each other. Hap doesn't remember feeling the need to get off nearly so frequently before he started fucking her. He's almost certain it was only 3 or 4 times in a week that he grabbed a sweetbutt to get off. Andi semi-regularly has him cumming that many times in a night. Granted, they only spend 2 or 3 nights a week together, but that's still like twice as much as he remembers even really feeling the urge before. But it's also possible he's remembering wrong. Fucking or getting blown by a sweetbutt is more like jerking off with a prop than having sex. Not really memorable most of the time.

His thoughts are interrupted as she heaves herself up.

"I assume you packed shampoo and shit for me?"

"In the bag with your clothes." he tells her, not moving as he listens to her rooting through the bags for a minute, then heading into the bathroom. Another minute and the shower starts up.

Remembering he's hungry, Hap slides the drawer of the nightstand open without looking, rummaging for a second until he finds the slim local phone book and pulling it out. In no time, he's grabbing his cell phone and ordering a pizza for delivery to their room.

After he hangs up, he sees he has a text waiting and looks to find a message from Kozik that makes him close his eyes and shake his head. 'Tig got 2 meet her b4 me!? What the fuck dude?!'

Replying quickly, he assures Koz that Tig didn't MEET Andi, Andi just told him to fuck off and leave them alone for the night, then switches text threads and sends one the whole maybe dozen feet to Tig. 'Man, Ive never fucking ONCE opened my trap abt ur personal shit & the 1st thing u do when u find something out abt me is tell ppl? Even 4 u thats fucked.'

Flipping the phone closed, he almost slams it back on the side table, now wondering how many people Tig had managed to tell in the, what, 30 minutes? 40 max? since he'd figured out that Hap is here with a chick.

"I was only in the shower for like 5 minutes, what managed to piss you off in that time?" Andi asks as she emerges from the bathroom, toweling her hair off, to see an angry scowl pasted across his face where there would normally be a smirk, or slight smile still this soon after fucking.

His phone vibrates on the table and he glances at it before hiking a thumb at the wall they now know they are sharing with Tig for at least tonight. "Fuckin' bigmouth over there."

The phone vibrates again, indicating another message, and Hap ignores it, getting up to take his turn in the shower to get the sweat and road dust of the day off him. "I ordered us a pizza." he tells her in case it gets here ridiculously fast while he's still in the shower.

Andi nods, watching him go. "I saw a vending machine at the end of the hall, I'll go get us sodas."

When he gets out of the shower, there's half a dozen texts waiting on his phone. One is from Koz, who seems slightly miffed but much less mad that Tig had sort-of met Andi first. The rest are from Tig, frantically telling him he'd only texted Koz to ask about the chick, and apologizing.

Knowing that not replying will make the most impact, ignoring him being one of the few ways to really get to the man, Happy doesn't respond to Tig, just closing his phone and pulling out his wallet when there's a knock on the door with an announcement of 'pizza!' from the other side of it and going about the rest of his evening with Andi.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

The next morning, Tig meets them outside their room door with to-go cups of coffee and a frantically apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm sorry!" he says, whining like a small child that had done something bad and is desperately trying to get out of their punishment. "I thought if you had a girl - or whatever the two of you are -" he corrects himself quickly as Andi opens her mouth to correct him again "I figured Koz had to already know about it. He's like the only person that knows fuck all about you, man."

Happy takes the coffees, maintaining his glare, and hands one off to Andi before he responds. "In other words, you wanted gossip and knew he was most likely to be able to give you some. Forget that the two of you can't even fuckin' look at each other without throwin' punches."

Tig's shoulders hunch slightly at being called out, and he pouts like a kicked puppy.

"David," Andi says quietly, coming to Tig's defense in an attempt to salvage the possibility of him relaxing and having some fun this weekend, "It's not like I've never met any of your brothers before, and he had no way of knowing Koz wasn't on the list."

"Blue was fuckin' different, and Norm barely even counts. I've never even fuckin' met him." Happy grumbles, but there's no heat behind it.

This piques Tig's interest. "Wait, Norm? Like, Norm the Nomad? You've met him?" he asks curiously, having joined up not long after Norm and Bullseye took off for the land down under after him and Koz got honorably discharged after coming home from Desert Storm.

Andi rolls her eyes. "Long story." Running her free hand down Happy's back, she tries to move the conversation along. "Let's drink this and hit a drive-thru for breakfast, then get to the show. We both know you two, and any other Sons that might be here, are going to end up sticking together most of the day anyway, you may as well let it go so I can enjoy my birthday trip."

Happy sighs and purses his lips, but silently acedes the point by finally lifting the paper cup up to his mouth and taking a drink.

They both bolt the small coffees on their way down to Happy's bike, tossing the empties in a trashcan in the middle of the parking lot, chained to a light pole. Tig goes with them, having moved his bike next to Hap's before getting the coffee at the 7-11 up the street, watching the pair curiously. "There's a Micky D's a few blocks up." he offers, remembering she'd said something about a drive-thru breakfast. The girl smiles at him in thanks for the info, while Hap barely nods an acknowledgement.

It was almost 10 before they'd left, so the show is starting to fill up when they get there around 10:45, cars that hadn't been left overnight, or hadn't been there at all for day 1, rolling in through the side gate as the parking lot fills up. As they're rolling down the row the lot attendant had directed them to, they stumble a few more Sons, kuttes proclaiming them to be from Montana. Tig, slightly ahead of them, beeps his horn and waves at the group to get their attention and have them wait instead of heading in. They find space to park not too far away, and Andi watches, interested, as Happy and Tig greet their brethren from another state with hugs and some very manly back-slapping.

She gets 3 curious looks as they notice her standing nearby, and when she makes her way back to Hap's side as they start heading in. Happy doesn't introduce her, fully intending to ditch the others fairly soon, but not under any illusions about the fact that there will be gossip about him between charters after this. Now, he's just wants to minimize the info that is actually out there.

At least he's confident now that Tig won't be offering much, if anything, up for the rumor mill.

He keeps them at the back of the group, talking quietly between the pair of them and trying to ignore the backward glances until there's a convenient group of other people coming at them sideways, and Hap slows down to let them pass, intentionally separating them from the group of other Sons.

"So, is there any particular reason you don't want your club knowing about me?" Andi asks him softly, very obviously trying not to sound a little hurt. They aren't together, but she doesn't understand why the club knowing he has a friend is such a big deal.

Sighing, he tries to explain. "I don't like people talking about my personal shit, and most of the guys don't know me. Not really, beyond the club shit. Pretty sure most of 'em think I spend my free time torturing animals or some shit. I barely even have any friends in the club, them finding out I got someone outside it is gonna start jaws flapping."

This seems to appease some of her bruised ego, and she now sounds inquisitive. "Tig you mentioned use to be Tacoma, but even the guys from Montana think you don't have friends?"

Being vague, because she's smart enough and has figured out enough to catch the drift and they are in a crowd, "Considering what I specialize in, I get loaned out to other charters sometimes. Plus, Tac does regular runs to half the continent, and gets a lot coming to visit us. We're a big charter."

They're the major import point for the whole of western North America, being practically outside the gates of one of the busiest ports on the west coast and close to the Canadian border, as well as being basically on the interchange for 2 major interstates that will take them the length and width of the country. Between runs they make, and other charters coming to them, he sees a LOT of brothers.

Her mouth opens to ask him something else, but then there's a gap in the crowd and her attention is caught. Instead of continuing that conversation, she almost blurts out, "Is that an Indian Larry?" pointing off to their left and up a bit.

Happy can't help his smile as she abandons the topic entirely, striding off as quickly as she can through the crowd to inspect the bike she'd spotted with the signature curlicue question mark on the tank.

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

There's a ball of nerves in his gut as he backs in on the line of bikes that's perpetually at the clubhouse, cutting the engine but holding the bike upright for his passenger to climb off before he kicks the stand down.

Happy'd been on his way back in from a standard monthly run straight down to Arizona and back when he'd stopped for gas and checked his messages along with the 2 other guys with him. He'd found a voicemail from Blue waiting, telling him to make a detour on his way into Tacoma that evening, to pick up Andi and bring her to the clubhouse.

Highly irregular.

He doesn't like it.

Besides wanting to keep her more or less away from the club in general, it's rare that the presence of an outsider, particularly a female one who has never had much to do with the club itself before, is so specifically requested. Something's up.

It's currently early August, getting into what is actually the hottest part of the summer in the northwest, and she had griped good-naturedly about having to put jeans and shoes on to ride. Nothing is said about interrupting her Sunday evening without warning, nor does she ask any questions once he makes it clear he doesn't know what's going on, her laid-back attitude shining as she just takes it in stride. It's not until they are here and walking towards the door that she displays the slightest bit of odd behavior.

They're maybe 6 or 7 bikes up the line from his when she stops suddenly.

Hearing her stop, Happy does as well, turning back to look at her, finding her staring at the bike they're next to. The expression on her face isn't her normal interested examination. Instead, she looks like she's staring at a ghost.

Looking at the bike that has captured her attention, he doesn't recognize it, but that's not unusual. Between having upwards of 40 guys in the charter, and Tacoma almost never being without at least a couple visitors, there's nearly always bikes he doesn't recognize. Taking a closer look himself, he starts noticing things about it and trying to figure out what's so special.

It looks like an older model shovelhead Sportster; he'd guess early or mid-'70s, but with the resurgence of people going for older styles recently, it may be new in the last few years and customized to look older. The bags aren't the removable leather that is popular with club guys, instead having fiberglass bags bolted to either side of the back tire and a frame over the back fender for a bedroll and other shit to get strapped to. The paint on the tank, bags, and fenders is a 2-tone green, again not a popular choice in recent years. Most of the guys choose black or dark versions of other colors for their daily-riders to be less conspicuous. Typically, if they have a brighter bike, it's a show bike that only sees the light of day sporadically during the summer for show and charity ride season.

This one, however, is clearly very well-used and taken care of. It's not filthy, but there's enough dust, and not quite enough shine, that Hap knows this bike is ridden often. No way does it sit in storage for most of the year only to be brought out for shows or charity rides.

"I don't know if I can do this." Andi tells him, sounding odd and looking almost like she wants to throw up, still staring at the bike.

"You know this bike?" Hap questions.

She nods, barely. "It's my da-" she closes her eyes and cuts herself off. "Norm's." His first thought is that realizing that Norm may not even be her dad had affected her more than he realized.

Then, what she actually said penetrates his brain.

Norm the Nomad is here. And Blue told Happy to bring her into the clubhouse.

Well, the bike is almost certainly the genuine article and not some modern throwback, then.

Mentally slapping himself back to the present situation, he steps closer and rests his hand on her lower back, both to try and subtly let her know he's there to support her and also press her back into motion towards the doors of the clubhouse, which stand open to try and catch some kind of breeze in in the stifling heat. There's a handful of people sitting around on picnic tables talking, who hadn't seemed to notice them until they enter the open space with said tables and fire barrels dotted around the boxing ring. At that point, conversations abruptly stop and stares follow them into the doors.

He lets her pause just inside, because they both need to take off their sunglasses and let their eyes adjust from the harsh sunlight to the dim interior.

Andi's easy-going, relaxed posture from before has vanished in the space of the walk from his bike to this point, and he sees her eyeing the main barroom - about half of the old converted warehouse that the Sons inhabit - taking in details and looking for the man she has obviously been brought here to see.

"Hap!" the call catches both their attention across the moderately crowded space. The chattering around them dies down a little as a few people look over and realize he's there with a chick, but it's not a showstopper or anything now that they're inside. Happy showing up isn't worth enough note by itself for most people to even look up from whatever they're doing to realize something weird is going on.

The owner of the voice, Lee, appears in front of them in short order, very curiously eyeing Andi, but not asking questions. "Blue wants you and your guest in the Chapel." Hap's VP informs him, tone and volume carefully moderated to not catch attention.

Yeah, outsiders being requested at the clubhouse is weird enough. If Happy showing up with a chick is going to eventually catch attention as people realize, the chick being escorted straight into Chapel to meet with Blue is bound to start people asking questions fast.

"David…" Andi breathes out, looking up at him for something. He's not sure what.

"You want a drink first?" he asks lowly, offering some liquid courage. It's not surprising that she's overwhelmed. For more than half her life, she'd strongly suspected that her dad, or the guy she thought was her dad, was dead, only to find out in the space of several months that he's alive and had just ditched her to take off to Australia after doing a stint inside, and then he's popping back up, here in Tacoma, without warning. She's never even been to the clubhouse before now, which is an experience all by itself for at least the first several times anyone comes here; but dropping this bomb on her too?

If he were in her place, Happy has no fucking idea how he'd be handling the situation he had inadvertently put her in.

After a moment of what looks like serious consideration, she shakes her head slightly, but shifts closer to his side. With a glance around, and knowing there's already going to be talk anyway, he slides his hand from her lower back around to cup her opposite hip, which he squeezes gently, arm now firmly around her waist.

Nodding to Lee, he steers her off to the hallway at one side of the bar that leads to the back, where the Chapel is tucked behind the kitchen. The double doors with signs plastered over them stating 'PRIVATE' and 'AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' and shit like that are closed when they reach them, so Hap knocks firmly before waiting a long beat and opening one, sticking his head in.

"Happy. Come on in. You got her?" Blue asks from his position at the head of the table at the far end of the room. There's only one other man in there, sitting in Lee's usual spot, and Happy only recognizes him from old pictures around some of the other, older clubhouses, like Charming.

Nodding, he pushes the door open wider, ushering Andi into their inner sanctum.

It's not that there's never non-members in here…. But it's rare. Happy is having to deliberately not think about how odd it is to see her at the clubhouse at all, forget in here. Get through it now, process later.

She enters, and Happy follows her, closing the door again behind himself before he moves to stand just behind her, still offering some subtle support but also trying to maintain his usual all-business demeanor that he has around the club. Or, really, anyone who isn't his family or her.

"You know why you're here, sweetheart?" Blue asks, not unkindly, as she stands awkwardly at the far end of the table, staring at the surprise guest that had turned up that morning while everyone was climbing out of their hangovers from the Saturday night party.

"I'm not blind." she says with a tone, and Happy's fingers immediately curl and flick, hard, against her ass at the attitude in his Chapel, toward his Prez. Even if he understands it. "Sorry." The tone is less petulant, and he can almost hear her restraining herself from rolling her eyes. "Yes, I saw Norm's bike outside. Doesn't take a rocket scientist."

If Hap didn't know Blue so well, he wouldn't be able to tell that the man is holding back a smile as he watches them.

"Since when do you call me Norm?" the other man says, both somehow roughly and lightly.

Happy slightly regrets standing behind Andi as he's not able to see her face to gauge her reactions. There's a heavy beat of silence before she responds. "Since I finally found out your name just before Christmas and realized that I don't even know if you're actually my father or just the guy that was nice enough to check up on me because I'm almost certainly the kid of some Son or another."

There's more silence, and Blue stares hard between Andi and Norm. He's just opened his mouth to say something - Happy can't even wager a guess at what, because what the fuck do you even say in this situation? - when Norm cracks a smile and speaks again.

"Forgot how fuckin' smart you and that mouth o' yours are." he says before standing and moving toward them, gait easy before he stops in front of her.

Up close, Happy's doubts about her parentage begin to dissipate. He immediately notes details that convince him more and more by the second that Norm is, in fact, her father.

The man isn't very tall, Happy towering slightly over him by a solid 4 or so inches, and he has the exact same dark greenish-hazel eyes as Andi. His nose is larger, more masculine and looking like it's been broken and not properly set at least twice, but the shape is very similar to hers, as are the lips. Their hair is also a similar color, Andi's normal chocolatey-brown lightened slightly from being out in the sun for the summertime and Norm's likely sunbleached from riding without a helmet most of the time in Australia, but showing brown around the roots where the long hair is parted.

After looking down at her, examining how she'd grown up, Norm's brow furrows before he asks a question. "What do you mean you just found out my name?"

"Mom always refused to tell me anything about you. I only figured out you're a Son because I remember seeing the scythe on your shoulder."

Norm looks up at Happy for a moment before turning his gaze back to his daughter. "So you decided to get in with the club to find me?"

She does roll her eyes this time. "Get in with the club? Please, this is the first time I've ever even been to a clubhouse." An expression of surprise flits across the man's face, and his eyes flick back to Happy for a split second. Andi anticipates his next question. "He's from Bakersfield, too. I met him up here when he recognized my old high school sweater. Total coincidence."

Happy draws Norm's attention more seriously as he speaks in her defense. "She never said shit about you possibly being a Son for over a year until I basically forced her to tell me something personal. I'm the one that asked Blue to take a look at that picture she has of you to see if he recognized you."

An odd look crosses the face of the man in front of him as his gaze switches back to Andi again. "You weren't even looking for me?"

A small shrug. "When I was younger, kinda, I guess. In college. At least to try and find out who you are. But it didn't take me long to figure out the club and find out a little about the Sons in general. I don't know what happened, but a lot of you guys seemed to up and disappear in the late '80s. Heard rumors about some kind of war with another club. I thought you were dead."

Another small smile appears on Norm's face. "College?"

"UW. Accounting." is the simple reply.

Blue clears his throat, making Norm turn. "Not to interrupt, but me an' Hap probably don't need to be lurking for you 2 to catch up."

Recognizing the veiled order that he has better shit to do than watch a reunion and babysit an outsider in Chapel, Happy gently wraps a hand around her elbow and pulls her back toward the door again. "C'mon, let's go find you a table or somethin'."

Turning, she follows him back out, Norm and Blue behind her. Blue disappears almost as soon as they exit the hallway, but Andi and Norm allow Happy to lead them off to a corner table that isn't occupied, more people taking notice of them now as they cut through the middle of the bar. He intends to leave them be to talk about whatever they need to, catch up, but, as he starts to move away, Andi's hand wraps around his wrist. Looking down at her pleading face, he hesitates briefly before pulling out the chair next to her and sitting, looking to the bar and motioning for a Prospect to bring beers when he catches one's eye.

At the very least, he's bound to find out a decent amount about both of them. Even if he's playing third-wheel because Andi isn't comfortable being left alone with her father in this new place that Happy has kept her away from for so long. That's mostly his own fault anyway, so hanging around isn't exactly a hardship….

_p_a_g_e_b_r_e_a_k_

Word that Norm the Nomad is stateside again tore through the club like wildfire, and Tacoma found itself besieged by visitors. Seemingly the whole Nomad charter appeared over the course of a few days, along with about 20 other people (mostly older members that actually knew him before), until Blue put out the word that Tacoma is beyond capacity and people need to stay the fuck home. Along with that came the assurance that Norm would eventually be getting back on the road and visiting charters, so they just need to wait if they weren't there already.

There's no shortage of dorm rooms, normally. The whole second floor of the warehouse is filled with them. They're nothing big or fancy, most having little more than a bed, a small closet, and a chest of drawers, but the size means they have 35 of 'em, with a bathroom sandwiched in between every 6th or 7th room. With there generally always being at least a half-dozen guys out on runs and a good portion being generally responsible enough to get themselves home most party nights, there's typically plenty of rooms available for visitors and whoever needs one.

Under the strain, there's a week or so that there's not any rooms available for any Tacoma Sons that don't live there - about 4 or 5 guys at any given time - and several people with spare rooms are asked to offer them up to house everyone that's in town unexpectedly.

Kozik ends up offering his whole apartment to Quinn and 2 other Nomads, going to stay at Happy's place.

Happy, in turn, ends up spending almost every night with Andi because she's not taking the sudden reappearance of her father well, and he's worried. That Sunday night, he'd sat and listened to an awkward, stilted conversation for about an hour as they caught up before Norm had gotten up to run to the bathroom and Andi had all but begged Happy to take her home. Since then, he can barely get her to eat, and she's prone to just completely zone out in the middle of whatever's going on.

Except sex.

That seems to be her coping mechanism of choice.

Generally, he can keep up with her, and has no problem giving it to her however she wants, but as her emotions spiral further and further, she has started using him as an escape, asking for it rougher and rougher seemingly every day, with little to none of the usual variation into the realms of playful or slow and sensual that typically make regular appearances in their bedroom life. He feels a little used, but doesn't resent her for it.

He still has no fucking idea how he'd be handling this situation in her place, and he had, after all, kinda been the instigator. Granted, he hadn't intended on, or known about, Blue sending word down to the Aussie charters that Norm should strongly consider getting his ass to Tacoma to see his kid who thought he was dead for half her life. Still, Happy feels somewhat responsible.

On day 8 after everything initially went down, and day 7 of Tacoma being packed to the gills, people are finally beginning to filter back to their home charters, assured that Norm is really back for the foreseeable future and will be making the rounds, so they'll get more quality catch-up time eventually.

That Tuesday, Happy has a shift at the garage.

He's shoulders-deep in a Blazer, working on the transmission, when Norm appears in the garage, looking weary. Probably from being so in-demand every waking hour for the past week. If the rumors of how he is in Australia are anything to go by, he probably isn't too used to much human contact for any sustained period.

"Does she hate me?" Norm asks Happy as he leans against the side of the car the younger man is working on.

Happy takes a minute to think about how, or if, he should give the man any information about Andi. Deciding it can't hurt, he shakes his head. "She's overwhelmed. Was only barely gettin' use to the idea you were still alive, and that you just took off after getting outta lockup. Don't think she even knew how to feel about that. She gets the life pretty well, so she understood, kinda, but, all the same, her dad just fuckin' disappeared without a word when she was 12." Pausing to turn toward his toolbox and grab a screwdriver, Hap keeps talking as he starts working again. "Neither of us knew Blue had reached out to you, so it's not like she could even try and prepare for you showin' up just as sudden as you took off. If that's something someone can even prepare for."

Norm doesn't say anything for a couple minutes, just leaning, drinking from the mug of coffee he'd brought out with him, and watching Happy work.

Eventually, he does speak. "It's not like she was in the plan, y'know? Katie was just the sweetbutt I laid temporary claim to in Charming when I was there for a long stretch to help out after they lost Wally, Jonesy, and Peanut all in one week. I tried to make sure she knew me, but I know I'm not cut out to be a fuckin' dad. I've always known. After I went inside for over a year, I figured she was better off without me just randomly appearing when I had time."

With a slight snort, Happy responds, "She don't talk about her mom much, but from the little she's said, sounds like she woulda been better off on your bitch seat as soon as she was big enough."

The moments of quiet this time are palpable. "I knew Katie wasn't thrilled about becoming a mother, but was she really that bad?"

Happy thinks hard for another minute about how he should answer before thinking 'Fuck it, in for a penny….'.

"She has nightmares sometimes. Talks during them. Begs 'mom' to stop, promising she'll do better next time, or sayin' she 'didn't mean to'. Only ever told me about one. 'Parently, her mom use ta haul her around by the hair, sometimes even use her hair to tie her up; would braid strings into it and tie them to the rail in the closet so Andi had to stand on her toes for hours, in the dark, to not be hanging by it. It's why she keeps her hair short now, can barely stand it bein' touched at all." Hap explains just barely loud enough for Norm to hear, so he isn't overheard by anyone else in the garage.

He doesn't have to look up to know the man is both pissed and devastated. It's exactly how Hap himself had felt when he'd heard that.

There's another couple minutes of silence while Norm digests, then "You take care of Katie?"

This time, Happy's head-shake is regretful. "Car accident about 7 years ago beat me to it."

"Hope the bitch suffered." is the grumbled reply.

Getting back to the original point of the conversation, Hap tells the older man, "Just give her time to process, man."

Norm changes the topic again. Kinda. "Should I be askin' questions about what you're doin' with 'er? Someone said some shit about her visiting you in lockup."

Fucking Kozik. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Happy gives the same answer he and Andi had been giving everyone. "We're friends."

"Friends? Right. You just told me she has nightmares sometimes in way makes me think you know from firsthand experience."

"So we're friends who fuck. Ain't nobody's business but ours." It's crude, but they're bikers. And Norm really has no call to be poppin' up now to try and be protective of her. If he wanted to do that, he should've at least told her that he was goin' away. Either to jail or international. Something to let her know he wasn't dead.

He hears a grunt that seems to be a general acknowledgement that his words were heard than any kind of acceptance. Then there's a sigh and Norm straightens up from his leaning position, probably to wander off again, with a parting, "Well, thanks for lookin' out for her, at least."