Juice was perplexed by the woman in front of him. He had little experience with women really, yes, he got laid when he needed to but you don't react emotionally to crow eaters, there was never anything there for Juice other than the relief of being able to come occasionally. The names and faces meant nothing to him, means to an end, but this woman was different.
She'd ridden into Teller Morrow on a Harley Street Bob with a chromed silver tank. She'd had a few issues with a misfire and hoped the TM Mechanics could take a quick look. She had realised when she pulled on the lot that she had just driven right into an MC but knew she was reasonably safe as patched women were virtually unheard of and besides, these guys were probably going to know the most about her bike.
Juice was struggling to formulate words. He was still staring, he knew he was but he couldn't stop himself. She'd gotten off the bike, legs clad in the skinniest pair of blue jeans he had ever seen. Legs that seemingly went on forever with high heeled knee boots accentuating their length. She wore a leather jacket with checked shirt underneath. When the helmet came off Juice was done for. Masses of long brown hair spilled out from under it, its length eventually skimming the top of her jeans it was that long.
At that point Chibs appeared and fortunately managed to formulate the words Juice couldn't. As they chatted he continued to stare whilst mentally chanting to himself to 'act cool, act cool'. She was, as Chibs established, English. She'd been riding around California on the Harley in a bid to escape reality a little but found herself with mechanical problems just outside Charming. Fortunately for Juice she'd found TM.
"I'll take a look" said Chibs, "Juicey boy, take the lady into the office and make her a coffee". Juice was half listening, still staring "JUICE!" boomed Chibs "ACT COOL! Er, yeah ummm coffee, office ummm this way" stuttered Juice, face flushing. He could have sworn she giggled when he mumbled but he stalked off towards the office cursing himself that his 'act cool' front was failing miserably.
She introduced herself as Jane, her accent was hypnotic to him, quintessentially British but not like in the movies, he could have listened to her recite the entire Charming phone book and been in heaven. As she sipped her coffee Juice began to relax slightly and took the opportunity to study the woman a little closer. She had steel grey eyes, her hair that had seemed so brown in the sunlight now seemed an almost jet black in the confines of the office. She told him all about how she'd left the UK after becoming disillusioned with her life there. Everything she owned and held dear was in a backpack at her feet. She had no plan, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. She followed the road and went where it took her, just her and the bike. Freedom.
Juice found himself telling her all about how he came to Charming from Queens and found himself in SAMCRO, not a story he told many so he surprised himself with his openness towards this woman, he felt comfortable in her presence which was unusual for him. He also made the point several times of telling her he was single.
Chibs returned after about an hour with bad news. The Bob needed a part, something they didn't have at TM but could order, either way Jane was going nowhere for a few days. She sighed deeply and asked if there was a motel nearby, knowing it would eat into her rapidly dwindling savings. Juice answered her, rubbing his mohawk nervously. His words were out of his mouth before he actually realised he'd said them. His moment of confidence shocked him as he said to her "I have a spare room".
"I have a spare room". Jane was thinking on her feet now. His offer could save her a few dollars, she didn't know how much it was going to cost to repair the bike so it would be helpful. She had managed a couple of weeks bar work in the last town no cash no questions but still she was down to the last $2,000 of her savings.
This 'Juice' guy didn't seem all bad, he was utterly useless around women, she'd established that from the moment he'd come over to greet her and nothing came out of his mouth, but he was kind of cute. 5ft 11" or so he stood a good 5 inches taller than her, even in her heels. His skin was olive, his eyes two beautiful pools of chocolate brown that shone with an amber fleck in the California sunshine, his head was shaved all over, all barring for a 'mohawk' stripe down the middle, either side of which were 2 stunning lightning bolt tattoos that made him look like the bad boy biker he was trying (and in front of her, failing) to portray.
When he did smile it was electrifying. His smile was stunning, a huge, cheeky grin that went from ear to ear revealing perfect white teeth and a couple of exceptionally cute little dimples. He could probably stop traffic with a smile like that, it could certainly get him out of trouble she thought.
Her train of thought was rapidly derailing from his offer of a spare room on a one way track to taking him straight to his bedroom without stopping at any station en route. Fortunately at that point a loud clang dragged her out of her daydream and a yell of "FUCKING HELL" as someone in the garage dropped a spanner.
"That would be great" she found herself saying. "thank you".