Hello to everyone in SOA land :) I haven't written fan fiction in many, many years and decided to give it a stab again when my muse struck thanks to Sons of Anarchy. I started working on this story a little over a year ago, but about six months ago decided I didn't like the format so I started over from scratch. This fan fiction is the first in a series of three stories. It starts about a year before Season 1 so there really is no storyline followed except for some references to Darby and his gang plus The Mayans. The story is really about the relationships between my OC and the main people in her life so it can set a good foundation for the next two books.
I do not own any of the characters in this book. They belong to the brilliant mind of Kurt Sutter. I only own my OC.
I hope everyone enjoys what they read. If you feel inclined, please review and give me your thoughts. I have three kids so my muse sometimes wanes. I'm hoping that by posting my story, it will give me motivation to continue this story that I have been passionate about for quite some time now.
May
He wasn't sure how he ended up with these bullshit jobs, but he was always the one that drew the short end of the stick. It had been a little over a year since he had been patched into the motorcycle club. Juan Carlos Ortiz, or "Juice," had spent the year before being a prospect which was a better way of saying lackey. Being a prospect never bothered him because he knew the payoff would be great; a member of the family. Juice had thought that once he got his patch that being the errand boy might be a thing of the past, but not so much. Guess he still needed to prove himself.
Bobby, as the treasurer, had put together some sort of six month financial rundown for Clay and Jax and needed copies made as soon as possible. Bobby had looked around the room ignoring the senior members and zeroed in on the newest member. Juice had tried to look busy behind his computer, but it didn't matter. When he heard "Juice!" being hollered from across the room, he sighed. He was being summoned.
Juice had no idea what this packet could possibly look like seeing that their money came mainly from illegal dealings, but he assumed it was padded to look legit. He was still trying to get a handle on the way business was run. As a prospect, he wasn't privy to the information that members were. Even though it had been a year, Juice still felt like he was trying to acclimate himself to all the ins and outs of being a member of SAMCRO.
There was a small copy store in the town of Charming, but he never heard of this place. Juice knew his way around town; but had Bobby not given him specific directions to find it, he would have continued not knowing it even existed. It was tucked away at the end of town on the strip, but because it was so tiny it got swallowed up by the bigger stores and businesses around it.
He opened the door quickly, the bell dangling from the frame nearly missed the top of his head. He stepped back startled, bumping into a stack of copy paper. "Shit," Juice grumbled, as he reached for the ones about to topple over.
"Be careful, that stack of papers will attack when provoked."
He took his hands off the paper making sure it had stopped swaying before he turned around. As he looked over his shoulder, Juice froze. If it wasn't humiliating enough that someone saw his near miss with the tower, it was even worse that the voice belonged to a girl.
He went to adjust his cutte and remembered he just had on a hoodie. There was some bullshit going on with the law that they weren't permitted to wear their gear. Their war with the Mayans caused a shooting which spooked some of the locals so Unser, the sheriff, asked Clay to dial things back for a bit. He felt naked, almost exposed, without it.
Juice took a deep breath and walked toward the counter. As he got closer, he took a gander without trying to look like he was ogling her. She was very plain. Her hair pulled back with a few loose curls hanging down. Her skin was free of makeup while her jeans and hoodie kept him from determining what kind of body she had.
Juice had never seen her before because he would remember those eyes if he had. They were sparkling, almost the color of emeralds. He didn't think he had ever seen green eyes like that and he had seen his share of women; mainly since coming into the club.
Juice snapped out of his daze as he heard her cough, speaking up. "Now that you've assaulted our copy paper, may I help you?"
He could feel his cheeks heat up a little from embarrassment as a quiet laugh followed her comment. Taking a deep breath, he gained his composure and laid the packet of papers in front of her. "Can I get twenty copies of this packet?" He had started to question Bobby about why that many copies were needed, but had stopped when he got the disapproving look to not question the request.
"Sure, but it won't be today." She pointed over her shoulder. "The machine is broken." Leaning against the counter, she sighed. "Which explains why this has been the most boring eight hours of my life."
"Great, just great," he mumbled, running his hand over the closely shaven strip of hair down the middle of his head. "There is nothing that can be done?" Bobby would have his ass if he didn't have this packet of papers copied and delivered back to the clubhouse within the hour.
"Not unless you are secretly a copy machine technician," she said, leaning in. "You aren't, are you?"
"No," he mumbled. Juice could smell lilacs and the faint scent of coffee as she leaned inches from him. He stared back at those eyes. He kept coming back to them, feeling drawn in.
"Are those papers really that important?" she asked.
He shrugged, not sure what to say. Juice couldn't exactly say they were financial papers for the bad ass biker club in town that had its hands in illegal activities. Well, he could, but looking at her Juice felt that she was different. She didn't seem to be like the chicks that hung around the club. She seemed normal and it had been a very long time since his life had been anything close to that.
He focused back on the task at hand. "I need them done for a very big meeting that is in less than an hour."
Juice watched as she peered up at the clock then looked back at him. Their eyes met and he felt this twist in his stomach that was foreign to him. Juice wanted to know who she was and not in a purely physical way.
She grabbed her keys and coat. "There is a copier at the pharmacy. I know the guy working there now. He will do me a favor."
He smiled. "Won't you get in trouble?" He turned as she came out from behind the counter. She was petite, definitely not much taller than five foot. He heard her chuckle as she shut off the lights.
"I'll tell Mr. Smithers that I was helping a regular customer."
Quickly, he walked back toward the front door. He wanted to take in all he could of her while he had the chance.
Juice sat staring at the screen in front of him not remembering what he was even to be doing. It had been two days since he had played errand boy for Bobby. It had been two days since he crossed paths with the girl he couldn't stop thinking about.
He had one girlfriend in high school. It was his first 'love' or at least that's how most people would label it. She was one of the neighborhood girls who attended the Catholic school around the corner from the public school he went to. They would go for ice cream, to the movies and have lengthy make out sessions on his couch. When her parents found out that he had been caught for shoplifting some cigarettes; they told her that she couldn't have any contact with him. Their 'good' Catholic girl couldn't be seen with the riff raff in the neighborhood.
After that, he had a string of girls that wanted to hook up with a badass and that seemed to be the continuing pattern as he grew up. Things hadn't changed since he had found his way to Charming. There was a plethora of girls hanging around the Sons so getting laid was never a problem.
Lately, he had begun to feel restless with that. For most twenty-six year old guys this would be a dream, but he just felt empty in the girl department. Juice wanted something more than just an easy lay. He wouldn't dare say that to any of the guys cause they would call him a pussy and never let him live it down so he learned to bury the feeling. Well, that was until he saw those green eyes.
"Juice."
His eyes shot up from the screen to see Gemma come into the clubhouse. Gemma was married to Clay, the president, and pretty much played mother hen to all the guys. She ran the office next to the garage; one of their legit businesses, and pretty much had her hand in everything else going on.
"What's up?" Juice asked.
"There's something wrong with the computer in the garage. Can you take a look at it?"
"Sure," he replied. He would never say no to Gemma because she was not someone anyone wanted to piss off unless they wanted their life to be miserable.
He tinkered with the cords and a few other things before looking up at the queen with her arms crossed in front of her, a pensive look on her face. "A couple of these wires have shorted out."
"Great, what the hell do I do now? There are a bunch of orders that need closed out."
"I'll run into town and grab some new wires."
Gemma patted his arm and smiled. "Thanks sweetheart. I really appreciate it."
Even if he hadn't known what was wrong with the computer, he would have made something up then set out to work on it all day just so Gemma wouldn't be pissed off.
As he walked toward his bike, he had an idea pop into his head. Before he could talk himself out of his thought, he hopped on his bike. Juice would be making a quick stop before picking up the wires he needed.
He glanced at the sign of the copy store as he rode past. He stopped and parked his bike at the end of the street. Juice had been rehearsing what to say on the drive over and figured a bit of a walk might help calm his nerves. He had never been a pro at talking to women, but in SAMCRO he didn't have to. The girls that surrounded him made themselves available and all he had to do was pick which one.
He gazed at himself in a window in front of his parking spot. The black t-shirt, pants, cutte and motorcycle boots were pretty much what he spent his time in.
He slid the cutte off his arms and held it in his hands. Just that morning Clay told them they could start wearing them again. Nobody asked how he convinced Unser to change his mind, but all the guys were happy. Juice had worn one of these during his prospect period anticipating the day he could add the patches that made him a member. He loved this thing more than most of his possessions, but as he stared at it he decided to leave it. He paused as he shut the storage box on the side of his bike. He took a deep breath and started down the sidewalk.
As he approached the store, he glanced through the glass. Juice smiled as he caught a glimpse of her behind the counter. It was now or never. If he left, he wouldn't get the balls to come back. He pushed the door open remembering to duck to avoid the bell. He scanned the room, feeling a sense of relief that there were no other people in the store.
Juice watched as she spun around, smiling as she caught sight of him. The smile on her face was warm, bringing a sense of calm to his churning stomach.
"Are you here for emergency copies again because if so, you're in luck," She paused and pointed at the copier. "It's working."
Juice cleared his throat and ran his palms over the side of his pants. He could feel sweat starting to form on the back of his neck. "Actually, I realized I never got your name the other day."
She chuckled. "You came here to ask me what my name was?"
He could feel the heat start rushing to his cheeks. That wasn't how he had planned on starting their conversation, but that's what fell out of his mouth.
Just as he began to reconsider his plan of attack, he saw her hand come forward.
"My name is Abigail."
He gazed at her hand outstretched in front of him. Beaming, he embraced it. "Juan Carlos."
"Juan Carlos," she said coyly. "So that makes you…"
"I'm Puerto Rican."
Their eyes didn't move. Her hand felt tiny in comparison to his, but he liked it. Juice could feel the flutter of butterflies flipping in his stomach. He felt her hand loosen up and slide back as her green eyes continued to stay locked with his. He knew he had to do what he had set out to do. He couldn't sneak out of it now. "I was wondering," Juice paused and inhaled slightly. "You really helped save my ass the other day so I would like to repay you. You want to grab coffee when you get off work?"
Juice watched her face process what he had said. She didn't say anything, just kept looking in his eyes. He was beginning to feel that this had been a pointless detour on his way to the electronics store. As he began to tell her to forget it, she spoke up.
"So, here's the deal," she paused, "Juan Carlos, I have had about six cups of coffee today and would like to sleep tonight so coffee isn't going to work."
He took his eyes off of her and looked at his feet. There it was; the rejection he knew he would get. He felt like a complete fool for coming over here. Why would she want to go out with him?
"Okay, well-" he trailed off as she cut him off.
"If you would like to meet me back here at six o'clock, I would love to take a walk. The park down the block is really pretty this time of year."
Juice snapped his head up, trying to keep his cool. "Yeah, sure, that's great."
"Great," she beamed. "I'll meet you out front and we can go from there."
He pivoted around and calmly walked to the door. After he cleared the store window, he stopped feeling a smile spread across his face. He had to pinch himself to make sure that he hadn't imagined what had just played out. Once he convinced himself that it was real, he jumped on his bike to get the supplies he needed. He wanted to keep himself as busy as possible to keep his nerves calm and to move time along to six o'clock.