That night, I got a call on my apartment phone; the caller I.D said it was from the Teller-Morrow Auto Shop. I inhaled deeply before answering, knowing somehow that they wouldn't be calling for food this time. "Hello?" I answered, forcing my voice not to shake.

"Moody," It was Tig's voice, and it sounded urgent. "We need that basement of yours for a while."

"Why?" I asked without thinking.

"The ATF is in town and our guns are in trouble," Tig replied fast. "But due to the lateness of night, we can't come to you. You have to come to us."

I didn't answer right away, my voice caught in my throat. I could hear Tig on the other end talking to someone else over on his end. I cleared my throat. "What's the address of the auto shop?" Tig recited it for me and said I should get there soon. I hung up and buried my face in my hands, trying to slow down the pounding in my chest.

"Guns?" I said to myself. "Well, thank God it wasn't a body." And with that forcefully positive thought, I threw on jeans, a t-shirt, my converse, and a hoodie before exiting to the fire escape that was my front door. The Buick stuttered before starting, telling me that I probably needed to get it checked out.

Teller-Morrow's was much bigger than I thought it would be. And it looked to be made up of three large buildings. One was the actual auto shop, one looked like an office for the auto shop, and the last had the Sons of Anarchy logo on it and the word "clubhouse" underneath it. The lot was full of motorcycles and black cars and vans. As I parked next to a large black van with tinted windows, I thought grimly that my old car fit in pretty well.

Right when I got out of my car, Chibs was walking towards me. He nodded and stopped in front of me, looking a bit flustered and tired. "Thanks for coming on short notice, Moody. I'll take you to where the guns are." I nodded and he began to walk away, leaving me to hurry up behind him. But then Chibs stopped short and glanced back at me. "You don't have to walk behind me, ya know? You're welcome here."

Thinking back on my meeting with Gemma, I muttered, "I wouldn't go that far."

Chibs gave me a serious look and stopped walking towards the clubhouse. "Don't go feelin' intimidated, lass. Clay told us that you're welcome here whenever you want to come by. So stop being so insecure 'round here." He started walking again and I hurried after him, feeling like he had just laid down the welcome mat and, at the same time, degraded me about being nervous about them. But I did as he advised and walked beside him.

The inside of the clubhouse looked like a bar to me. Couches, comfy chairs, and ordinary furniture was all over the main room but there was also a long bar that was covered in empty peanut shells and a stripper pole. A hallway led farther into the clubhouse and a large set of double doors was just off the main room. The room was pretty much abandoned except for a random girl wiping down the bar, trying to dust off the peanut shells. Chibs caught me looking and leaned down to my ear, "That's a crow-eater, that one."

"A crow-eater?" I repeated, having no clue about biker slang.

"A girl who sleeps around with members of the club," Chibs explained. "She's one of Tig's." My eyes widened and he chuckled, shaking his head.

The large double doors opened and Clay entered the main room with Jax and Tig. I risked a glance at the crow-eater at the bar. She stopped cleaning the bar and tried to make eye contact with Tig by whipping her hair over her shoulder. Tig completely ignored her or he didn't see her. Instead he came up to me and gave me a brief hug, to which I stiffened without meaning to.

"Good to see you too, Moody," Tig said with false bitterness. He winked at me to let me know that he was kidding. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crow-eater glare at both Tig and me.

Jax was less forward and he offered me to shake his hand, which I took. "Thanks for coming out here; Tig thought you had been asleep, he said you sounded like it on the phone."

I shook my head. "No, I was awake. Insomnia has been a problem for me."

Jax tilted his head a bit, looking thoughtful. "Juice mentioned insomnia." Clay took a step forward, cutting off what Jax was saying.

"We'll take your car back to the restaurant and drop off load by load." Clay said quickly. "You have the keys on you?"

"Um, yeah," I said, pulling the keys from my pocket and holding them out for him. "Why did you need my car for this, though?"

"Our vans are too obvious in the chance that someone sees," Clay explained. "Your windows are tinted and that alley behind the place has good coverage, so no one will be able to see us there."

I really didn't like the plan, but I was under the gaze of four intimidating men, so I went ahead and gave Clay my keys. Clay grabbed Jax and Tig to go start moving guns and Chibs disappeared to find Bobby. The crow-eater at the bar kept giving me mean looks so I started for a couch to sit down. Bobby entered the room, saw where I was heading, and spoke up, "I wouldn't sit there. Tig had a crow-eater there last night."

I jumped away from the couch as Bobby went outside. I then moved for the pool table, hoping I could lean against that. But Chibs entered and said, chuckling, "Don't sit there either: Bobby had someone there."

"Is there a place in this room where no one has had sex on it?" I asked him.

Chibs laughed again. "If there is, I haven't found it yet." He left the clubhouse, following his companions. I stared after him, not knowing what to do with myself now. The crow-eater gave up trying to clean the mess and had retreated into the back hallway, giving me a cruel smile. She was obviously enjoying my discomfort. I stood alone in the room. From outside the clubhouse, I could see Clay, Jax, Tig, Bobby, and Chibs moving back and forth carting boxes.

"Do you want anything?"

I jumped in fright as Juice's voice came from behind me. I spun around to see him standing in the opening of the hallway, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. He was barefoot, holding a laptop, and looking at me curiously.

"Sorry?" I asked, getting over the fright he had just given me.

Juice nodded to the bar. "Do you want anything from the bar? You might be here a while: we have lots of guns." He walked over to the bar before I could answer and set his laptop down on a clean space. "We should have lots of stuff. But I don't know who went to the store last, so we could have nothing."

I made my way closer to him as he began searching a fridge. He pulled out two beers and set them in front of me. "There we go." He popped the tops with his bare hands and nudged one closer to me. "C'mon, Moody, have a cold one."

I took the beer and sipped it. It wasn't the best one I had ever had, but it burned softly in my throat. Juice came back around the bar and sat down in front of his laptop. He took a swig from his beer and typed something at lightning speed. I raised my eyebrows.

"What're you doing?" I asked, watching in amazement at the speed he was going. Juice didn't answer me right away, instead, he finished typing and pointed at a box full of codes.

"I'm hacking into the police station," He said simply. He pulled another page up and double-clicked a tab and somehow got to where he needed to type something else as fast as humanly possible. A box popped up and a video began playing. Juice leaned forward, watching the footage from the police station with an intensity that reminded me of what Gemma had said about him being a computer genius.

Looking over his shoulder, all I could tell from the footage was that some woman was organizing a desk that I was assuming was hers now. "Is she with the ATF?" I asked. Juice nodded.

"Yeah, Clay's having me keep an eye on her." He said. "Make sure that she doesn't do anything fishy."

"I didn't know you knew how to do this," I said.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Juice replied. At first I thought he was trying to flirt with me again, but he said it so seriously that I pretty much had to do a double take. Juice risked a glance away from the computer screen to give me an amused look. "Don't act so surprised, Moody."

"Sorry," I said.

Juice smiled while staring at the computer. "Don't worry about it." He glanced at me again and smirked. "You're wearing purple." I looked down at my hoodie which was, indeed purple.

"Good eye," I said. Juice smiled to himself and the door to the clubhouse opened and Chibs and Jax entered.

"Clay, Bobby, and Tig are taking the first load of guns to your place," Jax told me. "Then we have only a few more to get there, and someone will take you home." He added the last part of that sentence, looking down at the beer in my hand. Jax turned his attention to Juice, who was still watching the woman in the police station. "Good job making her feel comfortable, Juice."

"All in a days work," Juice said. Chibs went behind the counter and pulled out a fresh bag of peanuts.

"How're we lookin' on the ATF?" Jax asked. Juice said that so far she wasn't doing anything fishy. Chibs ripped open the bag of peanuts badly and some spilled onto the floor. He ignored them and grabbed a handful of peanuts before pushing the bag towards me. I grabbed some and cracked them open with my teeth. Jax took a handful from the bag and walked back outside, probably to wait on Clay and the others to come back.

I hung out at the clubhouse for about an hour as the men took two trips to put all their illegal guns in the basement. Chibs made I his duty to try and keep me entertained, and it mostly boiled down to him telling me about SAMCRO and the slang that came with it. Juice would give his opinion every now and then from his laptop. I finished my beer right before Clay entered the clubhouse, saying that I could go home now.

"Get someone to drive her," Jax said, entering behind him. "She's had a beer." To prove it, Juice tore his eyes from the screen to pick up my empty beer bottle and he held it up the rest of the club to see. Tig and Bobby entered the clubhouse and pulled their own beers from the fridge.

Clay nodded. "Fine; someone needs to take her home."

"I'll do it," Juice said, looking away from his laptop for a second but Clay shook his head.

"You've got a job to do,"

Chibs cracked open a handful of peanuts. "Then I'll go." He threw the fresh peanuts into his mouth and swallowed them with barely chewing them. "C'mon, Moody," He walked away from the bar, heading for the door. I bid goodbye to the rest of the club and went after him. Chibs was waiting for me by the door.

I got into the passenger seat and Chibs plopped down into the driver's seat. He turned the key and the car sputtered to life. When it finally started, Chibs looked over at me. "You should get this fixed here. Clay would probably give you half off."

"It's been doing that for a while now," I said as Chibs pulled out of the lot. Soon into the drive, he tried to turn on the radio. I glanced at him nervously as he realized that my radio was broken too. "That's been busted for a while too,"

Chibs threw me a dirty look. "Come in to the shop this week. That's no longer a suggestion; it's an order." He jabbed the radio dial one more time, clearly frustrated with my lack of desire to fix my car.

We parked in the alley behind Moody's, where the fire escape entrance was to my apartment. I glanced around, suddenly realizing a flaw in the plan of Chibs dropping me off. "Um, Chibs? How're you getting home?"

"I'll make my way back." He said curtly. "Don't worry 'bout it, just get upstairs." He tossed me my keys. "And I'm serious 'bout your car here. If you don't come in by the end of week, I 'ave no problem coming up here to tow it back to the shop."

"No need for that," I said quickly. Chibs nodded with a smug smile and began to walk away. I felt like I should say something. "Hey, Chibs!" His shadow turned around to look at me. "Thanks for the lift."

I could see Chibs nodding at me before heading out. I waited until he left the alley before climbing back up into my apartment.