Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy or any shit associated with them. I give credit to Kurt Sutter, the lucky bastard. ALSO – I am not making any money off of my writing. Dirty thoughts coming to life are no form of currency.

BE WARNED: Cussin', fuckin', and blood are all coming up. If you don't dig it, don't read it.

Enjoy!

Chapter 001:

Layna Morgan sighed as she stared at the mass of paperwork in front of her. She had more than enough shit to attempt to work through, and she didn't even know where to start. The Sons were something else, that was for sure; and she had no idea how their previous lawyer had muddled her way through all of this mess. But that was in the past now, and it was up to her to get them out of this shit-storm that they had created for themselves. She shook her head, in an utterly disbelieving fashion that they though that they were going to get themselves out of this sometime.

She heard an amused chuckle coming from the other side of the desk, and looked up into the amused eyes of her assistant. "What the fuck do you think is so funny?" she demanded, huffing a bit and making him laugh all the more as he took a little stack of paperwork from her and began to rifle through it.

"I think that it's funny how you think you're going to get the Club out of this one, when their own lawyer of God knows how many years, admitted that she couldn't. They're a bunch of outlaw criminals, and honestly, they deserve to be locked up for all of the shit they've done. I don't see how we're going to be able to help them, even with all of the money they're going to be giving us," Ricky said tentatively, knowing that he could tell his boss whatever he was feeling without too much recompense. Opinions were always weighed, and she just nodded her head at him.

"I don't think you understand, Ricky... but I owe Jackson Teller a favor. A very large favor, and I'm not going to just let him and everything he loves go down because I don't think there's a way out. I'm going to fight tooth and nail for them, and I'll try to figure out anything and everything I can possibly do... or try to do, to get them out of this."

Ricky just nodded his head and took a breath. "I'll get started on going through some of this then," he stated simply, grabbing a stack of paperwork and exiting the room – presumably to his office.

Layna sighed and rested her elbows on the desk, using her hands to cradle her aching head and trying to make sense of everything that was going on. She knew that there just had to be a loophole somewhere, and all that she needed to do was find it; but that was proving to be immensely difficult. The cops hadn't missed a single fucking thing, they had all been mirandised and were arrested according to proper protocol. She was surprised the judge had allowed them to make bail, honestly, and that the club had had the funds to back it up. She assumed their connections to the Real IRA had helped with that, but then again, she wasn't supposed to know that. She jerked her head up in surprised when she heard a light knock at her door, and gave a smile small when she saw the familiar face of Jackson Teller.

"Mr. Teller," she greeted him formally, her eyes glancing slightly behind him to see a rather... rugged looking man standing behind him. His face portrayed absolutely no emotion whatsoever, and his dark eyes glinted with a steel resolve. "What can I do for you?"

"No need to be so formal, doll," Jax smirked at her, pulling her into a friendly hug as she stood up and came around her desk. "I'm just here to see how things are coming along, and to give you some... protection," he told her.

Oh great, a goddamn babysitting detail. She wasn't trusted by everyone else in the club, she had no doubts of that, so the idea of her having a babysitter wasn't exactly surprising to her. It was a nuisance more than anything really, but she kept her mouth shut, she didn't want to sabotage this deal, and she most definitely didn't want to give Jax a reason to be pissed at her. "Okay," she said simply, giving him a half smile. She looked to the hard-faced man standing with him, and attempted to put a more friendly expression on her face. "I'm Layna, pleased to meet you..." she trailed off, searching for a name.

"Happy," he answered simply, the name actually making her smile a bit at the irony.

"Happy," she finished, knowing that bikers didn't usually shake hands and looking towards Jax. "How long am I going to be... protected for?" she asked the man in a tentative voice, though she already knew the answer.

"Until the case is closed, one way or the other," Jax answered with a simple shrug. Layna nodded her understanding, knowing that she was pretty much making a deal with the devil on this one. She either won the case, and the Club trusted and accepted her – or she lost, or somehow otherwise fucked up, and she was dead. And this... man, Happy, would be the one to end her. She didn't have to grow up in the life to know what an Enforcer was, the Nomad patch said it all. He had no reason to be in Charming right now, except to back up Club interests. And one of those interests was her; he was to shadow her every move and waking moment, and report back to the club on everything she did.

"I see," she murmured, almost to herself, before shaking everything off and putting a smile on her face again, trying to appear energetic and ready to work. "Can I interest you guys in a drink?" she asked. "I've got some Scotch in the cupboard, pretty good shit, and I'd really like a chance to get to talk with you about what these piss-ants in the San Joaquin Sheriff's Department have on you."

"I'm game," Jax replied, he and Happy moving to sit in the two chairs across from her desk as she poured all of them a glass of the bourbon and seated herself.

Happy kept his gaze emotionless and calculating as he studied the little woman that was seated across from him and his VP. He didn't know how he was supposed to trust in the ability of this little thing. She couldn't be any taller than 5'2, and maybe weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet – but goddamn, she was fucking sexy. Her chocolate brown, wavy hair cascaded beautifully around her shoulders, and she had curves in all the right places. Her tits looked like the perfect size for a handful, and the glimpse he'd gotten of her heart-shaped ass was enough to make his dick stiffen some. When her bright green eyes had met his gaze for the first time, he'd been startled by the amount of intelligence and understanding in them. And let's not even talk about her damn smile; she only had one dimple, on her right cheek, if he remembered right, and it was absolutely adorable. Beautiful white teeth shown at him, and her little button nose seemed to wrinkle of its own accord as she looked over some aspects of the case.

She was so damn easy to read, he didn't know how she'd win them this case. But amazing things came in small packages sometimes, and he was genuinely curious to see her in a court room.

There was an even larger part of him, though, a more curious part – that wondered what it would be like to put his dick in her. He wanted to know what that pretty little mouth could do to a man, what her pussy felt and tasted like, everything. He wanted to manhandle that little body of hers, to manipulate her any which way she wanted and make her scream his name; to make her claw the fuck out of his back with that pretty little french manicure of hers. The urge was utterly primal, and he didn't know how long he'd last not trying... fuck, at least something with her if he was to be her babysitter until further notice.

The more and more he thought about what he wanted to do to her, the stiffer and stiffer his dick got. Shit, he had to stop with this before she noticed. He shifted himself to be a bit more comfortable with his growing erection, and downed the rest of his Scotch. It was easy for him to space out during the conversation, this whole thing didn't concern jail time for him, he was just here to help out and keep an eye on their youngblood attorney. Simple.

But when she downed the rest of her Scotch like a champ as well, and gave them both that adorable little smile of hers that was full of confidence, he knew it wasn't going to be as simple as he thought. When she leveled those green eyes of hers on him, and brushed her fringe-style bangs away from her face, he knew he was a damn goner.

He had to have her. He had to know her in every which way he could, those beautiful features and eyes of hers had already sucked him in.

His ma had told him it'd been like this for her when she met his dad... when you knew that someone was the one, you knew it the second you laid eyes on them. He'd always called her story bullshit, stating that if his dad had been the one he'd have stuck around – then his ma had leveled him with the point that even though someone may be the one for you, you may not be the one for them. He'd been forced to acquiesce then and place a kiss to her cheek.

All he could do was hope like fucking hell that she was interested in him in at least some way similar to the way he was interested in her. Then he needed to hope like hell that she was single; but honestly, that didn't matter much to him. He'd have her if he had anything to say about it. He'd never thought about settling down before, and he was sure something in him had to be kinda off its damn rocker if he was already thinking about it with her.

Maybe it was just the lust talking, or maybe it wasn't.

He'd just have to wait and see.