Human
" And you don't need to pretend that perfection is your friend
'Cause we're all broken. "
~ Human, Gabrielle Alpin ~
Half-Sac bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, ready stance. Adelaide studied his movements, his body, searching. He was clearly right-handed, but she'd seen him fight ambidextrously. He was small compared to the other bikers, but that meant he was probably fast. He would use energy over brute force.
"Are you going to fight, lass?" Chibs called, mildly impatient.
"She might be scared," Half-Sac taunted. Adelaide just slid him a small, dangerous smile and fell into position.
The first fifteen minutes she just toyed with him. He fought boxing-style, upper body only, and she matched him par for par, blow for blow, step for step. He didn't fight like Chibs, her silver lightening, and as good of a workout as this was, she was becoming bored.
The Scot could tell, and gave her a quick wink. Permission to stop holding back.
She had seen Half-Sac fight during club parties, but he'd never seen her go through sequences on her own, never seen her practice her katas or run through paces with Chibs.
Needless to say, it was a wonderful prank the older member had pulled on the prospect. The poor man was at a loss for words and punches when she suddenly switched up, spinning and kicking and dancing.
She was flame again, and he was just a lost soldier unable to hold her back. Within two minutes she had him in a lock-hold, pressed against the ropes of the ring. Chibs was laughing and Zay and Queenie, who had shown up to watch halfway through the match, snickered.
Half-Sac groaned. "That was not cool, man. You could've warned me."
"You should've known better than to underestimate our little crow," Chibs retorted, standing from his perch.
Adelaide cocked her head at that—their little crow. Was that what she was to them now? What even was the significance of that?
Queenie moved, helping her down, and Zay eyed her appreciatively.
"You're hot in those workout clothes, baby."
"Mhm," Queenie nodded her agreement. "Even if they cover you from shoulders to ankles."
Adelaide accepted water from her friends and laughed. "Just because I am conservative does not diminish my beauty."
The two crow-eaters just stared at her, then shared a look of knowing exasperation. Adelaide sniffed, faking haughtiness, and spun on her heel. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
They laughed and chased after her. "You need to teach me." It was Zay.
The redhead looked at her. "To fight?"
"Yeah. And dance."
"Okay."
They both looked at Queenie. The raven-haired beauty shook her head. "Hell no. Too much work. I like my softness."
More laughter, happy and bright, and they reached Adelaide's room. She invited them in. "I'll shower and we can go do whatever it is you're here to take me to do."
"Shopping," they answered at the same time.
Adelaide winced dramatically, escaping into the bathroom with another laugh as one of her friends threw something at her.
It was probably Queenie.
###
Clay watched Gemma watching the girl as she toyed with the prospect.
It was odd, he thought, for his wife to be so amicable to the girl. Gemma was not a person who received newcomers easily, and yet she seemed to have no issue with the redhead.
Not that he did, either. Not really. She was annoying sometimes, all proper and posh, and she didn't know how to mind her place.
But she could drive and she didn't ask questions she shouldn't, and something had changed in the club since she'd arrived.
Good.
A good thing.
But he didn't like that it was linked to her, because that might arise some problems down the road when she left.
He had to know, though, he really did—
"Why do you like her?"
Gemma exhaled smoke. "What?"
He moved closer, indicating Allie. She was now laughing with two of the crow-eaters. "You hardly like the girls who've been here years. Can't stand Tara. Didn't like Donna or Wendy. That little tart, Cherry, was neutral with you." He paused, "But you actually like the rich bitch."
Gemma eyed him with pursed lips, then stepped closer, stubbing out her cigarette. "She's not gonna tear this family apart."
Clay raised his eyebrows. "Half the boys are in love with her. Hell, Jax is on his way there, too." A realization came to him. "You know she's not staying, don't you?"
Gemma scoffed. "Of course I know that. And I can goddamn see how they act around her." She rolled her eyes and muttered, "I see more than you do." She sighed. "I just mean she's not like the other pussy that hangs around. She's not manipulative, she's actually helpful." Another scoff. "Disgustingly honest."
Clay chuckled. "She can throw some interesting insults."
Gemma smiled, remembering that night of chaos. "To answer your question," she moved closer, bringing her hands to his chest, "I like her because she makes our boys happy," another scoff, "and she's weirdly badass."
Clay grunted agreement, placing his hands on his wife's hips and pulling her closer. "You know who's not weirdly badass?"
She played along, humming in the back of her throat. "Who?"
"My old lady. She's downright terrifying and sexy."
"Mhm," she closed the distance between their lips, "and you better remember that."
###
Bobby was being released in a few days, Opie was returning home around the same time. The mood of the club was considerably lifted in comparison to the past few weeks. Adelaide reveled in the high spirits, flittering and bouncing around TM and the ice cream parlour and the town.
Deputy Hale caught her in the grocery store, humming quietly under her breath and rocking back and forth from toe to heel as she studied the vegetable options. "Hello, Allie."
She turned and smiled. "Good afternoon, deputy."
"How have you been?"
"Well enough." She respected and even liked the officer, but she knew the line of club business was not one to cross with him. "I'm trying out some new recipes."
He faced the vegetables, too. "What for?"
"Fun." She resumed her rocking. "How are you?"
"Doing good. My brother is trying to settle a new business deal, so we may finally get some progress here in Charming." It was a sign of trust that he told her that while knowing her ties to the club. A gift. And not one she'd turn back in his face.
"That might prove to be good." Ever the trained diplomat.
Hale chuckled, seeming to understand that. "Yeah, let's hope so. He wants me to meet his partners in a few days."
"Now that," Adelaide finally decided on her vegetables and put them into the basket, "may prove to be wonderfully informational."
Seeing she was ready to move on her way, the deputy stepped back. "Nice seeing you, Allie."
"You, too, deputy." She tipped her head in farewell. "Good afternoon."
On her way to the baking aisle, she was bumped in the shoulder by a built man with silver hair and a red circle tattoo at his throat. The force of the push seemed almost intentional, but she was too sturdy to stumble. Rather, she gave him a disdainfully appraising look.
The smile he put forth was falsely remorseful and didn't reach his eyes. "Apologies, miss."
There was a rancid burn in his eyes that settled heavy and uncomfortable in her stomach as she moved away.
###
When Opie came through the clubhouse door, the first thing he saw was Allie, immaculate as ever, with her fluttering blouse and artfully stressed jeans, soft shoes and subtle jewelry. She didn't notice him as he moved quietly into the building.
He watched as she happily, in that quiet-glow way of hers, moved between stirring a large pot on the stove and mixing a batter on the counter.
He paused in the doorway. "Allie."
She didn't jump, as he'd expected. Perhaps she'd known he was there, after all. Instead her greeting was with a subdued smile, still warm and sweet. "Hello, Opie. Welcome home."
"Thanks." Silence fell between them, and she moved closer.
"May I hug you?" He gave her a look and she elaborated, "I doubt you've had much physical contact the past few weeks, and don't want to cross a boundary."
As considerate as ever. He nodded. "Sure."
Her hug was soft at first, but she was familiar and smelled good, and a comfort he hadn't known he'd needed until her arms were looped around his waist. He remembered the funeral, her hands around his, offering him simply her, should he need it. Pure and kind and bright.
"You were missed," she murmured against him, and he tightened his arms around her before stepping back.
"How are my kids?"
She gave him a look of reassurance. "Cared for."
He nodded and attempted a smile. It probably came out more as a grimace. "Thanks, Allie." He gestured the chapel. "Everyone's been called into church. I'm gonna go wait."
There was something in her eyes, a sort of knowledge that she shouldn't have and wouldn't ever dare confirm, and she took a hand between hers again, holding to her chest.
It was a move similar to what the sweetbutts did when trying to get him hard or garner his attention, but it wasn't the same. Rather than on a tit, she placed it close to her collarbone. He could feel the slight ridges of her ribs and the strap of her bra, and the fabric of her blouse was soft and cool to touch.
It took him a moment to realize she was letting him feel her heartbeat. An odd thing to do, but she was a decidedly odd girl, who saw too much and knew exactly what they needed.
An odd thing to do, but it gave him a moment of connection, a small string to hold on to, something the bike and speed and road couldn't give him.
"Remember, habibi, you are cared for, too."
An odd thing to do and an odd thing to say, but the fabric was cool and she was warm, and he realized there were others he'd missed besides Jax.
They hadn't really been close before he left, not how she was with Tig or Chibs or Jax, or even Juice and 'Sac. But they had shared secret smiles and laughter at Abel's coming home party, and she had often given him breakfast, and she had offered simply herself at Donna's funeral.
Not a comfort, not a condolence, not a respect. Just herself, however she could help.
He nodded, and repeated, "Thanks, Allie."
She pressed a soft kiss to his palm and sent him off with a warm plate of scones.
###
Adelaide was at Zay's house at the urging of the crow-eater. "Listen, baby," she'd said, "this is a welcome home party for a senior patched member. You need to be dressed appropriately. And you have no clothes to fill that requirement."
So, she was now playing Barbie to Zay and Reya, letting them put her into different outfits that squeezed the breath from her body and added six inches to her height. The clothing was nothing less than alluring, and the redhead admired herself in the mirror.
But there was an uncomfortable squirm in her stomach at the thought of wearing such things out in public. She twisted, flexing her calf and studying the heels. "I've never worn shoes of this height." She gave a nervous-amused smile. "I'm not entirely sure I'll be able to walk in them."
Zay shrugged. "So, have one of the boys carry you."
Reya piped up, "With due respect, Miss Allie, you look better than the porn stars. And they've never seen you like this. They'll all want you." Since her eighteenth birthday was getting nearer and nearer, Zay's younger sister was being allowed to participate in small things that would help prepare her for life as a crow-eater.
Zay was making sure her sister knew all the rules of the game before she took her to Gemma.
Adelaide laughed and bent to remove the shoes. "Thank you, sweet one." She shook the shoes off, carefully lining them up. "Perhaps some that are just an inch or so shorter?"
The dark-haired beauty groaned. "Fuck, fine." She dug into her closet for a few minutes, pulling out another pair.
Adelaide laughed helplessly when she saw them. Five inches—only an inch shorter—strappy and sparkling and blood-crimson. Zay gave her a look that said these were the shoes, no argument. "Now, we just put you into some matching lipstick and add some more sparkles somewhere, and Bobby might just love you right there on his bike."
The redhead blushed as she laughed again. "The ATF agent, Stahl, is dropping him off."
"Even better," Zay retorted, "he can fuck you on her car."
"No, thank you." Adelaide shimmied out of the breathless-inducing shirt the sisters had given her to try on. "I appreciate his musical skills and his baking, but not his body."
Reya howled with laughter, leaning against the wall, and Zay snickered silently, holding her stomach. "Who knew the little rich bitch could be so ruthless?"
Adelaide flicked her hair over her shoulder. "There's much you've yet to know about me."
Zay snorted and tossed her another article of clothing. Black, of course, woven through with silver that glittered like small streaks of lightening in the darker fabric. Adelaide held it up, examining it.
"This is a dress?" she couldn't help the incredulous tone.
"Yes," Zay seemed amused. "And you're going to wear it. It'll be great with the heels."
The redhead eyed her friend. "Most of the women just wear jeans and skirts."
"You aren't most women, baby," it surprised Allie to hear an underlying note of seriousness in Zay's voice. "Didn't you hear Chibs the other day? You're their crow."
Obediently, Adelaide began figuring a way into the dress. "I'm afraid I don't know what that means, love."
Reya climbed onto her sister's bed, watching and listening closely, with all the study of a student hell-bent on passing with nothing less than one-hundred. Zay pulled make-up from her vanity, approaching Adelaide.
"I've never heard of anyone being given that title before, so I don't really know, either. But," the two women settled on the bed for make-up, "old ladies take their man's crow. Like a claim of sorts. She's his, always, and he's hers, that sort of thing. The crow is very important to the club, as a symbol."
Adelaide closed her eyes and sat still, letting Zay transform her from society girl to club girl. "I still don't quite understand."
"It's like," she sighed, thinking for a second. "We have sweetbutts and crow-eaters. Then there are the old ladies. And then there's you. Somewhere between a crow-eater and an old lady, with more involvement in club activities than any other girl. Except for the porn, but that doesn't count. So, like a mix between a member, a crow-eater, and an old lady." She stepped back and Adelaide opened her eyes. Zay smiled. "You're their crow."
Reya almost looked as if she were mooning. "You know, Allie, that's almost romantic."
"Yeah," Zay tossed a discarded shirt at her sister, "don't expect that for yourself."
Reya scowled good-naturedly and Adelaide laughed.
###
Happy was the first one to spot Allie. She arrived with her crow-eater friends, Zay and Queenie. They were good girls, and would make good old ladies one day, if they got it hooked up.
All three were impeccable, dressed like fucking goddesses, but it was clear the two girls had put effort into making Allie the star. Happy approved; the little redhead was higher in status than them, and it was good they knew their places.
No matter that Allie thought they were all equal. At least the girls knew where they should be.
He waved her over, and her face lit up in a smile. "Good evening, Happy." She stopped a respectful distance back.
Happy pulled her close, mindful of heels so high there was no way she'd chosen them herself. "You look good."
She glowed at his complement. "It was Zay. She helped me."
The crow-eater smiled, and Happy studied her. She was taller than Allie, with flowing black curls and dark eyes that held sensual secrets. A sly smile seemed to perpetually tug on her lips, and, while she wasn't nearly as toned and defined as Allie, muscles moved under skin in a wholly attractive way.
He knew who he'd be owning that night, and if her appraising look was any sign, she knew, too.
Allie ignored it all. "How are you? I've missed you. No one here dances so well." The words came in rapid succession, and Happy's lips twitched up.
"Good, missed you, too, come dance with me, then."
Zay brushed Allie's arm, "See you later, baby," then let her fingers trail over his arm, too. Queenie just winked and sauntered off.
Happy pulled Allie under his arm, her body close, beginning their dance again. It was familiar now, the curve and flow of her body against his in time to the music. Pure muscle, she was, and he rested his hands anywhere she let him touch, enjoying how they moved.
She was either getting braver or acclimating more to her environment—she let his hands curl around her waist and down to her hips, let him hold her there, fingers brushing over her hip bone. She never had let him touch her there before.
A few nearby brothers were watching. Of course they were. Allie was a siren call when she danced. One of them wolf-whistled, causing the others to laugh, and Allie—
Happy watched, shocked and amused and proud as she spun away from him towards the other brother, then danced there, in front of him, despite the girl already in his lap, and when he reached to touch her, she slapped his hands away and returned to her original partner.
There was more laughter; even the sweetbutt snickered, and the brother took it with an easy grin. "Got yourself a good one, man."
"She's not mine," Happy corrected. No matter his arm was over her shoulder, her body pressed against his. No matter that they acted as much a couple in public as she would let.
It was good fun, simply, and they both knew that.
###
Bobby had laughed loudly and hugged her so tightly he lifted her off the ground. She laughed with him, escaping when he put her down. He'd be busy satisfying certain cravings, she knew, and wasn't keen to become audience to that.
She found Jax as he was leaving. There was a tired drag to him; worn and weary. She touched his wrist gently to get his attention. "You should be happier."
"I said 'hi' to Bobby." He exhaled cigarette smoke and stubbed it out. "What're you doing tonight?"
"I'll probably stay over at Zay's. With a party like this, I won't get any sleep if I stay here." They shared a moment of amusement. "That last job put me further ahead than I thought it would. I'll be out of here in about five months if my calculations hold steady."
"Yeah," Jax didn't seem as excited at that prospect as she'd thought he would. "That's good."
"You don't like it." Adelaide sighed, settling against the bench beside him. "You should be happier, and you don't like it."
For once, her insight appeared to rub him raw. "I got a lot of shit on my plate, Allie. Sorry I'm not acting the way you want."
She looked at him, staring into eyes of angry blue and holding the gaze for a long moment, before standing again. "Have a good evening, Jax."
He caught her wrist before she could walk away. She didn't look at him, but she didn't pull away either. He stared at the ground. "I helped Opie kill a man today."
"You're not supposed to tell me those things."
"Fuck that." His fingers tightened on her wrist. Pale marks discolored the skin beneath his hand, and he realized it was the same wrist he'd bruised on the job. "You live in the club. You work for us."
"You own me." She threw at him the words he'd used once to try to drag her under his control.
He scoffed, "Yeah. I can tell you this shit. You don't," he paused, gesturing vaguely with one hand, "lose your damn mind over it."
"I know what the definition of 'outlaw' is, so it does not surprise or bother me when you live up to your title." She finally turned to face him again, and he looked up at her.
"So, why the hell does it bother Tara so much?"
Adelaide sighed, a gentle sound this time, of understanding and compassion. "I can't answer that, love, but if her being bothered bothers you so much, perhaps things should be considered and reconsidered."
Jax scoffed again, but vague amusement curled on his lips. "Damn riddles."
"The best answers to give," she countered. "May I go now?"
He hesitated for just a moment, just long enough she saw he didn't really want her to. And then he released her wrist. "Yeah. 'Night, Allie."
"Goodnight, Jax."
###
It was the silver-haired man from the grocery store, and he stood proud and savage, like a raging fight dog, behind the suited man from the American League of Nationalists.
Adelaide kept to the shadows, watching, cold sinking through her blood at the suspicion of why the dog-man had knocked her in the store. A warning, maybe. An acknowledgement of her existence.
Definitely a threat.
He didn't see her then, not where she stayed in the dark, but she saw him, and she watched him, and when he marked Gemma, her blood froze.
Fight dogs had a thing, a way they picked out their next victim. It usually started with a mark.
Gemma had been marked.
Adelaide had, too.
###
She had ended up asleep in her car, worn out from dancing and exhausted from people. It was for the best, too, when her phone rang in the early hours of barely-dawn. Gemma, requesting her, asking her to come meet her at the hospital.
Tara was waiting for her, and led her back to a secluded room. The matriarch sat, subdued and still, only moving when Adelaide approached her.
"Good morning, Miss Gemma." She noted the injuries to her face, the careful way she was sitting; it was suddenly not a question of what had happened.
Gemma had been marked.
"Hi, sweetheart." Even her voice was a muted version of its usual self. "Thanks for coming."
"As the queen wills," Adelaide said softly, stopping as close as she thought Gemma would be comfortable with.
The older woman's lips twitched in a weary smile. "You haven't asked what happened."
"I don't need to. I know what violent rape victims look like."
Gemma blinked at her. "The boys can't know."
"Okay."
"You're not going to argue?"
Adelaide smiled gently. "It's not my place."
Gemma studied her for a moment. "What is your place, then?"
"I do as I'm told," she shrugged a shoulder, "for the most part." Another small smile, and Adelaide continued. "I teach the children. I help the men. I offer comfort as they need. I protect when called upon."
Gemma nodded slowly. "I've seen you fight."
"I know."
"Was there a way I might have—?"
Adelaide gestured to the bruises on her wrists. "You were strung up, it looks. Maybe bound entirely. Even the best have their limits."
The matriarch nodded again. "Thanks, baby."
"It is simply the truth, Miss Gemma."
Silence settled over them for a few moments. "The other girls you've seen—how'd they get over it?"
"With self-patience and self-understanding. Self-love and self-respect. May I touch you?" Gemma nodded, and Adelaide clasped their fingers together, softly resting a palm on Gemma's cheek. "You focus on 'self,' and you will heal in time. The body does so quickly; it's your mind that will take longer, and may require things you didn't before."
"Like what?" It was said with a bite of the usual Gemma, and Adelaide smiled.
"Perhaps a different kind of faith, or a different kind of love. A different place to live or different books to read. A new group of friends, a new pet." The redhead's eyes were soft with reassurance. "You'll know. You'll figure it out and find it."
Gemma eyed her for a moment. "Get out of here before Tara brings back Clay. You don't need to be in the middle of this."
Adelaide nodded, turning to leave. She paused by the door. "Tara isn't the monster you seem to have painted her as. Maybe, she is one of the new things you require."
The door shut softly behind her.
There was someone who said they were more a Happy/OC fan and came here by mistake - that little scene with Happy is for you, love!
I know I've said I don't like Tara, but I am trying to keep her character able to fit canon. That includes her positive relationship with Gemma during season 2 (ugh).
And that scene with Jax, y'all, it's starting to get deep for them...
Hope you enjoyed!
Read, review!
Kisses!