Disclaimer: SOA does not belong to me. Darn it.

A/N: I decided to entitle this fic "Heart of Gold" because I think Jax does have one and also I think it's pretty obvious Jax is searching for more from life than his compadres, so I think Neil Young's song sums that lovely boy right up.

It was just another warm day in sunny Northern California. Nothing was quiet about it in the bays of the Teller Morrow shop. No one was even pretending to be busy. They really were busy. It seemed like everyone in town had a blown head gasket or dead radiator. Jax, who had been sweating his ass off underneath a crappy old '69 Dodge Charger that somebody had pipedreams of restoring and seeing on the stupid Barrett Jackson car auction, was ready for a break after clumps of rust kept popping off and heading straight for his nose. He set aside his wrench and had every intention of telling Clay to go fuck himself for sending the job his way but instead swallowed his malice, wished he didn't want a cigarette but knew he would go have one anyway out on the front lot before heading to the office to visit Abel, who was no doubt asleep in his playpen next to his mother's desk. Hopefully she wasn't in there smoking like a freight train. The second hand smoke discussion was something she had started. Ironically, he noticed the distinct odor of air freshener and cigarette smoke every time he walked into the office to see his six month old.

He blew his nose into a shop towel and cursed that Charger piece of crap when he examined the rust-colored snot.

"Thinking about lunch?" Tig snickered, having noticed Jax' preoccupation with the phlegm on the shop towel.

"Split it with you if you want. No charge." Jax grinned, turning the paper around for Tig to view.

"You really got the shaft with that rusted out piece of shit, didn't you?" Tig laughed.

"Gets better. The old bastard wants it painted orange." Jax answered, walking away.

"Does he want a fucking rebel flag on top too?" Tig snorted and Jax just threw his hands in the air as he headed out into the sun.

Jax stared a bit tiredly at the road as he sucked on his cigarette guiltily. He really was trying to quit for Abel. He didn't smoke at all at the house or at night anymore. Well, that is, if he was at home with Abel. But it was really hard when all the other guys were smoking. He didn't want his ass to swell up like Bobby's but eating did seem like the only other alternative, so there they would be sitting around the table, all the other guys smoking and Jax stuffing himself with a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey. Then he would go get on his mom's treadmill and later feel like hurling up the ice cream and all the beer he had drunk. They really didn't mix, especially after running and jostling the growing gut. Growing gut, growing butt. Everything was expanding but he'd always been on the skinny side and the ten pounds he had put on wasn't appearing to affect his reputation as Charming's favorite man-whore. The females were as abundant as ever. That was another thing. With Tara gone back to Chicago and Wendy agreeable to being solely platonic although rather unhelpful with Abel, females young and old were coming out of the woodwork to offer their company, reassurance, comfort—hell, anything except what he really wanted: homemade casseroles that provided lots of leftovers. Well, at least, enough to get him through until Sunday dinner. At least Abel still ate baby food. There were nights, and he would never admit this to anyone, that he ate jarred baby food too, the prospect of cooking too daunting. However, he would rather starve than eat those baby food peas, so he didn't feed them to Abel either. A taste tester, that was what he was. Who was he kidding? He was just fucking exhausted between work, the family and the kid. And the leftovers his mom sent home with him from Sunday dinners always ran out by Tuesday.

He absolutely refused to admit to Gemma Morrow that he could not cook. That would cause a shitstorm unlike no other and soon he and Abel would find themselves living with his mom and Clay. Maybe he could just smoke this one cigarette today.

What the hell?

Yes, he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. It wasn't the moving truck they had all been expecting to head through town that caught his eye but what was tailing it. And what he saw made him laugh because the sight was so ridiculous. A real laugh. It was a fucking Toyota Prius with a huge solar panel on the top of it, towing—yes, towing—a motorcycle trailer behind it. Pretty little ride. An 883 hugger with a pretty little custom paint job in pearl and espresso. Looked about 2 years old, no body damage. Dark windows on the Prius. You dumbass, Jax, looking at the bike instead of the passenger. Typical. Martin wouldn't have been caught dead in a Prius or on a bike for that matter. But Martin was dead, so what the fuck did it matter anyway?

"Looks like Martin's replacement has hit town, Mom." Jax called, entering her office, after observing her for a moment puffing on a cig. Yep, he was right. He bumbled around the doorway so she could put it out and push the little mister of air freshener next to her adding machine, prior to entering but made a mental note to replace the air freshener with pickle juice just to jack with his mother. He knew she'd be pissed but would never say anything when she sprayed her entire desk with vinegary stink. Oh, he knew the payback would be a bitch but would be amusing nonetheless. After accusing her of farting in the car once, he noticed his pillowcase kept smelling like farts and lo and behold, one night he walked in his room and found her ripping a giant one on his pillow.

"Why are you laughing?" Gemma asked suspiciously, because he had burst into laughter at the memory, as he walked over to Abel's crib.

"Umm, look at him." Jax laughed, pointing at his six month old who was asleep with one finger up his nose. Quick save. That was convenient.

"Like father, like son." She replied and Jax could hear that she was not convinced of his veracity.

"We've got style. What can we say?" he said quietly, kneeling in front of the playpen where Abel slept peacefully and sincerely smiled at his son.

"So you said you saw Martin's replacement?"

"Yeah, moving van followed by a Prius hauling a Harley."

"A Prius in Charming?"

"I think the warranty has been voided on it too." Jax laughed at the memory. "It has a huge solar panel on top of it and a trailer hitch."

"A field biologist should be interested in energy conservation. So Dr. Hannah Hartley has a Harley. That's quite a mouthful."

The advent of Hannah Hartley, the head biologist for the region after Martin Brown's untimely death on Mount Shasta which was suspected to be at the hands of the Nords, had been the object of much discussion within SAMCRO. The club had always been stewards of the public lands and Martin had relied on their support. They were ready to offer it to this unknown woman with a PhD and no ties at all to Northern California as far as anyone could tell. As far as anyone could tell, that being as deep as Juice could dig, Hannah Hartley had only begun to exist a few years ago, appearing on the scene in Santa Barbara as a researcher in the Botanical Garden there, then taking the Los Padres field biologist position before Martin's demise. Nothing prior in her past other than some research papers and a resume could be excavated on the 34 year old woman. All she seemed to be was a stellar academic with a knack for field work and no doubt a boatload of naiveté. Martin had kept the drugs off the public lands for 26 years and had been an ally and practically a godfather to Jax. It was essential that this woman keep Martin's work going and not just hug the fucking trees. She also needed to understand that SAMCRO would be there to protect her.

Jax hoped Clay would not lay it on too thick at first and scare the shit out of her. Surely, living in SoCal, she knew a little bit about Northern California and how more people owned handguns in Shasta County per capita than in Los Angeles County. Surely, she knew about the paranoia. Surely, she knew something.

He knew what happened when you assumed, so he just smiled at Abel while he slept and was thankful for the short respite from the madness he knew was sure to follow.