So I was planning on making this two chapters, but I don,t know, you've been hanging around do far, peeps, so I'm giving you a mega chapter! Because I loooove you all! :D

As always, I don't own the SOA cast or anything related to it. Not making money either. I own Esther,l Everett and Jack, as well as Silk and Clara. Adara Munson was created and is owned by Nixie de Angel, thank you kindly, my darling, for letting me use her.

Onwards with super chapter! Enjoy!


Him being Happy, that makes him smile, as takes his boots off at the edge of the carpet, before heading to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. In her pantry, everything is labeled with her special labels he's learned the hard way not to mess up, he takes the bread and the peanut butter, opens the drawer under the microwave for a butter knife, eats a few sandwiches as this Gail struggles through another song; the ding of the timer, Silk encourages her on the way to the door, she is getting better. After a moment of silence, he hears her bench again, she's got to clear her head. She plays Hotel California, she's on the right track. He is someone from California. She must have heard they got out of the slammer. But she's not one hundred percent on it, yet. Because she had grown ultra close to Chibs, Tig , Piney and Opie as well. But Chibs would have walked in here with a loud "Hello, love" and Tig would already have her in his arms.

He turns around to lean against the counter, when she finishes and the bench creaks again. Stuffs the fifth of the sandwiches he made into his mouth, he sees her going back to the door, she locks the screen door, kicks his boots out of the way and comes into the kitchen, the dog is right ahead of her, he comes to sniff Happy out, who's this dude? Who you? He wags his tail, looking up and back at her, it's so cute, he looks like he's begging to make friends with Happy.

She changed, since the last time he saw her, but not so much. She is pushing seventy after all, but she's still beautiful. She's taken good care of herself, tough she hasn't dyed her hair in forever, she's all blondish-white, now, but she doesn't look a day over fifty. Just like when he was dating her, almost twenty years ago, she didn't look a day over 35, when she was pushing fifty. And her eyes, in the shade of green he had never seen anywhere else, she was nicely tanned. She now had some expression lines, around her mouth and some crows feet on her eyes, but she was still gorgeous. And solid, tough she had lost some weight. When he was with her, she was five foot six for a solid 170 pounds, loves to eat, and was always a good cook. She's lost an inch or two, and at least fifteen pounds, she's still nice and plump.

She smacks her lips as she stops by the dog, she pets his head, she's a foot in front of him. And she has a smile, almost a laugh.

-I know who you are.

He doesn't answer, smiles, tries to keep his breath as quiet as he can. She always liked that game.

-You aren't Needles. Bernie here would not have stopped barking. You're not Jury either. Because that was Gail. His grand-daughter. In fact, you're not one of the guys from Indian Hills. Firstly because you didn't get here by bike. And after 25 years of me being here, I can tell all of their bikes apart.

Good so far.

-You aren't... Opie. Because you took your boots off. You're not Filip. But you smell a bit of him. So you were near him. He drove you here?

He can't help but to applaud her detective work so far, her favorite game, and she is good at it. Very good.

-You're not Tig. He hates this game. Would have told me to give up after my first suspect elimination. You're not Jax, he was here a few hours ago.

She takes a deep but quiet breath, she is totally trying to breathe him in, and see if she can tell this way. Hence the peanut butter sandwiches. Happy doesn't like peanut butter, he likes her home made jams better, but she doesn't like, when it's too easy.

-You aren't Juice. You are too tall, and he's allergic to peanut butter. And since you're too tall to be Juice, you're also too tall to be Montez. You're not... Bobby. Maybe you are Bobby. But you don't smell of Adara, Adara smells of tangerines, it's her shampoo. No, you aren't Bobby. Bobby would have started to bake something.
"Babe, it's me!"
-Just a minute! I'm playing my game!

Happy leans to his left, to see the front door that shut back, who the hell is this guy, now? That's not a patch. That of for damn sure. Guy's late forties, maybe, early fifties, glasses, looks a bit like Richard Rawlins from GasMonkey garage or whatever it's called, but not as much of a douche bag. He's got a few grocery bags in his hands, as he takes his shoes off, despite the "Fuck Silk" he meant earlier, he's jealous. Even if it's been eighteen years since they broke up, he's jealous.

When he reshifts his attention back to Silk, she has a large smile on, she knows who he is. She probably knew from the beginning, but she was playing with him, and now he started breathing hard when this other guy came in, he totally gave himself away.

She still has a step and a half towards him, brings her arms up the right height, she remember how tall he is, and she pulls him into a hug and a short peck, she's still smiling. And at least, she still smells of what he remembered she smelled back then, Head&Shoulders and her Mary Kay perfume she probably got off Jury's wife that was a representative.

-Welcome home, Hap.
-Thanks, babe. Who's the square?
-My boyfriend. Zack. Five years, now. You're still jealous?
-That used to be mine.

She laughs that he grabs a handful of her ass right in front of that Zack guy, who looks on with a smile on his face, he isn't going to say anything.

-Behave yourself, Hap! Honey, this is Happy, he's one of my exes. I offered him asylum, my brother said they were fully booked. Hap, meet my boyfriend Zachary, he's a photographer.
-Pleased to meet you, Happy. You're part of the club?
-Yeah.

Zack has a nod, as he puts away everything that was in the bags after shaking Happy's hand, the guy wasn't super tall, five ten, maybe, wearing a hip shirt and some jeans with a big Texas belt buckle. That tween looking thing has been around for five years? Silk has pulled away from him, he wishes he was still holding a handful of her ass. Because it's always been a great ass to hold on to.

-And this is Bernie. I've had him for eight years, now. He's ten, he's going to retire, soon, aren't you, Bernie Boy?
-So you're getting a new one, soon?
-Yes, I've already met her. And Lyla and Opie are taking Bernie, here. Lyla's kids absolutely love him. My next dog's name is Polly. She's a white Lab. She just turned one.
-That's nice. And you still play.
-Of course.
-Dude still hasn't found you? Or the cops? The brothers have been looking out for you?
-He... Funny story. Found me. Total coincidence. Seven years ago.
-Should I find and kill the fucker?
-He's one of your brothers, now. Florida Charter.
-What?

She nods, and he can't actually believe something like that could have happened. Twenty-five years ago, Silk was in a long-term relationship, good guy, eight kids to raise; the guys had been widowed twice, eight kids by his two wives, and Silk was helping him raise them as her own. One of the daughters had a kid, and another of his kids killed that baby and had framed Silk. Cops were looking for her, she had fled Canada, and ended up in Indian Hills, where Needles found her and took care of her as family would. Now this guy she was with was a Son? How?

-Did you talk to him?
-Ever so briefly. I was dating another patch back then who promptly told him to not even think of trying to looking my way. He had patched nomad, and was traveling along with Kozik. You know how Kozik is with me. Dude's got me on lockdown.
-Where's Kozik now?
-Florida. Making sure my ex never comes around these necks of the woods again. Calls me every other week, to hear how Clara's doing.
-She still here?
-Hey, keep your jealousy.
-She's forty something!
-She got married, moved out. Dick was abusive. She was pregnant. I was never going to leave her in trouble, and you know that. She's been my daughter for 23 years, now.

That news is pretty shocking. Carla? Needles' ex? That slutty little crow eater? Married? And now with a kid?

-You're a nana again?
-I'm a nana again.
-Screw that gash, but I'm happy for you.
-He's blind, too, you know?

The revelation stops him from congratulating her further on grand-motherhood again. He has a glance towards Zack, who was still there, but not really paying full attention, he was busy labeling the cans he had just bought so Silk would know what was in them just by touching them. Zack looked up, pushed his glasses back up his nose and had a nod, before handing him a photo from the wall behind the pantry, a framed photo.

-That was last year, we went to Disney in LA.

So if that was last year, the kid is now eight years old? He looks about seven in the photo, eyes closed, arms thrown in the air and mouth open on a big scream, to his right, Carla is smiling and holding him, Carla aged alright, she's got a white streak in her bangs and half of her head shaved. And to the kid's left, Silk is wearing her sunglasses and a big smile, too, she's holding on to Carla's hand on the boy's belly.

-What's his name?
-We named him Korey. It's been hard on Carla, to raise him alone. She wanted to just get back on her feet, divorce him and move back out on her own, but when he was born without them, I wouldn't let her go. Just couldn't find it in my heart to. She's been dating Filthy Phil for a couple of years now. He's really good to both of them.
-You were always a good mom, Silk. You were always too good to Carla.

He nods, not that she can see, she now has her back at him, she's crouched to the floor, rubbing the dog's belly. He hands the photo back to Zack, who puts it back where it belongs without really interrupting his labeling, he now seems really focused on it. She looks happy, she really does.

-So, how are you feeling, now that you're not in prison anymore?
-Feels good. I couldn't stand Tig anymore. I haven't seen the fucker since. I think he already left back for Charming with Venus.
-Hm. Venus is a really lovely gal. She likes to stop by for a tea. And she loves Tig, so much. She brought me to tears more than once.

He glances down at her, can't help the smile that crosses his lips. Silk who most days can't bother wearing a belt. She always had a nice crack. Her pants are a size, maybe a size and a half too big, and hanging on her ass, for some reason, she seems to have went commando this morning.

-Belle craque.

The blush on her cheeks as she rushes up, holding her pants higher, priceless. She heads for her bedroom, comes back out putting her belt on, he should have shut up. But that's the kind of shit that being blind, Silk needs to be told. When her shirt is inside out, or her bed head's still in place when she leaves the house. That was the type of shit that took its toll in their relationship. Silk didn't need a babysitter, but she did need someone to keep an eye on her that way. And as much as he had really loved Silk, he had never seen himself having to keep check on her for twenty to forty years. Silk had been one of the two women he had genuinely loved. Three, if he counted his mother, but this really wasn't the kind of love he would ever show him mother.

-Merci, Hap.
-Dinner?
-Are you kidding me? You just ate a bunch of peanut butter sandwiches! Pick up after yourself!

He obeys only because it's her, and she's blind. You can't step into the home of a blind person and not pick up after yourself. You don't move shit around, you don't clutter. She's smiling, near him, shoulder to shoulder as she starts to make dinner, a whole chicken in the oven, she makes a gravy out of the guts, and she peels, cooks and mashes some potatoes without any help. She served him a beer when he was done cleaning the counter, washed his knife and all, put the bread away.

It's good, it's fine, watching her from the table. She always had this perfect apple shaped butt.

-So, what have you been up to, Hap?
-Not much. Chibs already came?
-You kidding me? I was literally his first stop, before he even went to the clubhouse. He wanted girl-cuddles and a pot of soup, and pumpkin pie. He stayed until almost midnight, we watched a movie together.
-Did you ever speak to Esther, while I was in?
-Not once. It's not like she ever tried to be my friend. I'm your ex, what did you expect? When you all got arrested, and we understood what was going on, Gaines, Domino and Needles all went to Charming with the Nomads, to try and salvage as much people as they could. Esther? Nowhere to be found. It had Jury pretty worried that Clay had done something to her. When we got wind that she had closed all the bills and sent Marjorie your money, we sort of figured out she had jumped ship.
-She was pregnant.

He had no clue what Silk's reaction would be, or how she would take it. Because Silk would have loved to be a mother, and he would have loved to have kids with her, back in the day. But her former step-daughter had ruined that for them. She had beat and physically tormented Silk so much over the span of her last year with her ex that Silk couldn't have them anymore. After that, he didn't want them anymore either.

She startles, drops the cup she was holding, it shatters on the counter and a bunch of pieces fall to the floor. Zack has the same precipitation as him to pick them up before Silk steps on them and cuts herself. And it's not in an attempt to show off the other, Zack cares for real, it shows all over his face, the concern for her safety and her well being. When all the glass is picked up, and tossed in the trash, Zack stops by Silk, rubs her shoulder, she's crying. She pulls away, coldly asks him in French to pack up and sleep elsewhere for the night, she wants to be alone. Happy isn't going to start feeling bad for the guy, but he should have known after five years, not to touch her while she's crying. Not to even look her way. Just leave her alone, and wait until she comes to find you and cry it out.

Himself does just that, as Zack apologizes and leaves, he goes to the living room, strums the harp before looking at her old, tiny TV, she only listened for sounds. Her stereo system, however, was the best money could buy, surround sound and all. Hit sits in the comfortable couch, and waits a while, it's getting dark, outside, and the house smells really good.

It's six thirty, when the oven dings, that she comes to find him in the living room, she cuddles against him, she's still sniffling, but not crying like she was. He's finally going to be able to know what she feels about it.

-Was the baby ok?
-It's a girl. She eight, now. She's got my nose. Esther named her Everett. She speaks like me. Her voice. Her voice is just like mine. I never thought you could get your voice from one of your parents. I didn't get to meet her, it was three in the morning. And Esther broke my nose.

Silk cuddles closer, rubs her cheek against his kutte, she still smells good. She's still beautiful despite the age she's pushing, he lifts his arm, that was her "put your arm around me, babe" signal. So he does, she fits just right under his arm still, cradles against his neck.

-How long have you known?
-The day I got arrested.
-Did you ever have regrets? It's been twenty years, and I still have regrets. I would have been a good mom, Happy.
-I know. I would have picked you for my kids over her, any day until yesterday. She's really trying hard, Silk. She is. She's married to some square. My kid calls him daddy.

Her face. It's her face that finally makes him cry about this whole situation. Her face is frozen in shock, he can see the goosebumps on her, he can feel her hands getting cold, through the fabric of his jeans, both her hands are resting on his thigh. He pulls her closer, to hide his tears in her hair, and the hug she gives him is the best thing ever, she smothers him, literally, and he could care less. The two years and a half he was with Silk officially, were the only two and a half years of his entire 48 years of existence that he had wanted to be a father. Silk's clock had been ticking, and he wanted to have kids with her, because even if they broke up, she had backup, she was far from Charming, she had her brother to care for her, a whole support system, and she would have been a great mother. And she most likely would have let him be a good father to their kids. He hadn't wanted kids with Esther, she was bat shit crazy and that was how he loved her.

And right now, it felt like he had wasted his entire life. He hated that feeling, because he was generally a happy dude, with the life he had chosen. He was happiest in the midst of chaos, during gunfire or car chases, he reveled in having to torture and hurt people. Blood and guts turned him on. And he was very honest about it, too. He was a bad person. Esther had been his Bonnie, even if she kept him even.

He understands, tough. Really, really understand, now that he thinks about all of this, why Esther wanted it to be just the two of them, for forever and a day. Because creating a life together would mean making a decision. Either Happy would step away from his dream life, and maybe not give Esther the white-picket fence and all that American dream bullshit, but there would have been no more hurting people for pleasure, and drug muling, but honest living as something legal, bouncer or whatever, or Esther would have to step away from Happy. Give their kid a stable life. Hold a real job.

But he still is sick at the idea of his daughter calling another man daddy. She's here, he can't undo what's been done.

When he's calmed down, Silk is gazing in his direction, her head on his shoulder. He rubs his nose against hers, seeking permission to missile against her lips. Hurts a bit, his nose is sensitive. Silk grants access, gives him a few pecks, before hiding her face in his neck.

-Do you remember? The first time you took me for a ride on your Harley?
-No. Well, yeah. But if you ask me to describe the shit you had on and where we went, shit, I don't remember.
-We didn't go anywhere. It was after I called you from the doctor. After the miscarriage.
-I remember. We just went Nomad for a day or two.
-I hated you for not crying, back then. Shows I didn't know you that much, hm?
-Jury said you were over me.
-Ho, I am. You were special, tough, Happy.
-I cried. You went to sleep. We had stopped in a meadow for lunch, and you fell asleep at the end of your tears. I walked away, and I cried for almost an hour. That's the last time I cried before today. You were always my polar opposite, Silk. You were weak, and I had to be strong.
-I wasn't weak.
-It was fine to be weak. I just couldn't be in front of you. I think it would have felt like the end of the world. We still had a nice year and a half with just you and I, after that day. Shit, you realize that aside form my mom, when I was a kid, you're the only woman I ever cried in front of?
-I don't see you cry.

And that was why Silk had offered the bed. Because Silk never saw him weak, or crying, or not strong, of anything. She must have heard things from maybe Chibs. Or her brother. That his head wasn't on straight, and no one had a clue why. With Silk he could briefly let go, and still feel like a man afterwards.

-You're a good woman, Silk. Zack's lucky.
-Oh, please. He isn't half the Neanderthal you are.
-Is that the best you can do?
-"I'm not a crow eater. I'm not gonna suck your dick. Just to get places."
-No. But you were going to suck my dick to get me out of your bedroom. Now, that showed you, didn't it?
-You had no clue I was blind, for like 3 months after that!

He laughs. He had never felt stupid, in his whole adult life, until someone told him that Silk was blind, while he was singing a praise to her ass, watching her clean the clubhouse that's down the street, after having sex with her on about 3 different occasions.

-I still wouldn't know, if Quinn hadn't told me.
-I didn't want him to tell you, either. He's such a gossipy bitch.

And she sounds so absolutely offended that he actually is. Rane Quinn looks like a big mute brute, with huge meathead arms, but he was the gossipiest of them all. Always knows everything about everyone. Everything, except when it came to Happy, Silk, and their strong, year-long desire to start a family together. And now Happy, Esther, and this kid they had together. He didn't want to talk about that, anymore. Didn't want to talk about kids. So either they found something else to talk about, or they went to the bedroom to get it on.

-So... Zack?
-Yeah. He was even denser than you. Took him five months to know I'm blind.
-He's treating you good?
-He's treating me. I'm getting old, Happy. I'm not getting in bed with you.
-I didn't ask.

She has a chortle, as she brings herself even closer to him, for someone who isn't going to go to the bedroom with him, she sure is getting nice and cozy and close. Her hair is softer than he remembered.

-I know you. When Jury told you my offer, you flipped me off, then decided yes, partly because my brother was probably there to forbid you to take it, and partly because we used to have great sex, together. Sex isn't in my cords, anymore, Hap. I'll give you a blowjob if you need one, but... There's not enough lube in the world for this desert.
-What a shame, babe. Really?
-Really.
-What about Zack?
-The joys of being old and setting the rules. Open relationship. He gets to fuck anything he wants, I get to cuddle, almost every night. With the same person.
-That thing can't cuddle like Happy can.
-You'd be surprised. He's quite worn in and comfortable. Can't hold you a candle when it comes to everything being so simple and strange at once. There's only one Happy, that's for sure.
-What about dickhead? You said he came through?
-At the bar.

Shit. He had forgotten about the bar. Maybe that was a good thing, he was now seeing the dollar signs lining up, to make a pretty paycheck. In the absence of this family they had desired, a dog, named Canelle, for Cinnamon, he had loved that dog so much, and it had been Silk's favorite ever, of all the dogs she had owned. And when she got lonely again, because a dog wasn't nearly as much work as a baby, he had opened a bar in Indian Hills, for her to run as she saw fit. She had named it Canelle, after their dog, and last he heard, it was still a successful bar.

Wait. How did that shithead hear about their bar?

-The bar?
-Kozik was with me, early afternoon, we were doing inventory, this red panhead pulls in the lot, dude comes out, with a chick, I guess, chick comes in, order two beers. The dude read yelp reviews, they were on a road trip, heading to Cabo, or something. After his second heart attack, he retired, I guess. Sold off our company, kids were all moved out, he bought a bike and got on the road to nowhere.
-Did he talk about Gianna?
-You really think Kozik let him talk to me at all once he realized who it was? Then Jas was all like "hey, brother!", and Koz noped the heck out. Made the guy go Nomad, and got him as far away from here as possible. I think if Herman didn't hate the cold so much, they would be in Alaska. But, when he came, I looked her up.
-And?
-She was still in jail. Nine years to go. No parole, anything. She's getting out in a year or three, now, I guess. Hap?
-Yeah?
-Would you find her and kill her, the day I hear that she's out of jail?

That she of all people would ask him to kill someone is a very hard concept to grasp. But he can smell the fear of Gianna emanating from all pores of her body. If Gianna's father had found her by accident like this, who knew how easily this little bitch could find Silk. After all, she had established herself a real life here. She co-owned a bar, gave harp lessons and offered her cleaning services to anyone who would need them, Silk was a hard worker. Had always been.

And Gianna would want retribution. Not only because Silk had fought her off so hard not to take the blame for the murder of her own grand-kid, but because Gianna had done twenty-five years in the slammer for this murder, the premeditation and all. She had been trialed as an adult because her actions had been so vile.

-I will, if you need me to. If you don't feel safe, or you think she's lurking around. You know I got you, and the Sons got you. Did I not roll up with the Nomads myself, twenty-five years ago, to keep that fat fuck that wanted to sicc the cops on you in check?
-You did. Even in jail you kept me safe, even broken up you kept me safe from you. And them.
-Honesty time?
-Ok. Sure.
-I completely forgot about the bar. Is it still open?
-As popular as ever. I managed a few classes at community college as an auditor, got some knowledge under my belt, we're doing really good. Boys are doing my security, I have a really good set of waitresses I trust. It's really good.
-And you set my cut aside?
-Of course I did. Sixty-forty, same as it always was. It's sitting in the safe, right now. And the code is still our anniversary. I had to write a few cheques at a point, because it wouldn't fit, but it's all yours, and all ready to be honored.
-Thanks, babe.
-So... Rub and tug, hummer, or you'll wait?
-Nah, sex was too great to have a let down now. All or nothing, babe.

She has a scoff that really amuses him. He fully expects her to turn him on like she does so well, before abandoning him with an aching erection on the couch, with a magazine, a couple tissues and a blanket. She doesn't have a mean bone in her, but she's one of the greatest teases he has ever been with.


Reviews? Hm? Hm? Please? Haha!