A/N: These two are back at it again... Will they ever learn to get along? Let me know what you think!

Two entire days had passed and I was still furious with Filip. I was certain my fury stemmed from my own insecurities, than from the suggestion made at the breakfast table, but nonetheless, still I was mad. In order to avoid all possible causes of running into him, or any other club members, I had been going into work long before opening and stayed too long after closing.

It was the lunch rush on my third day trying to avoid SAMCRO and the stupid Scot that things took a new turn. I was in the kitchen, working and sweating away. I ordered around the kitchen staff, making sure that all menu items were being heated on the stove and ready to be sent out promptly. I had my hair pulled back in its traditional French braid and I was wearing frumpy clothes; really old jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I twisted my braid around, clipping it into a large bun on the back of my head. I found some spare bobby pins in the pocket of my apron and attempted to tame the wildness of my fringe. I grabbed my bangs, grouping as much together as I could, twirling the hair around my fingers and flipping it off to the left of my forehead, pinning down as much as I could. I could instantly feel the flyaways – shooting straight up into the air. I huffed, frustrated with my hair but ultimately turned back to the pot of jambalaya I was cooking up.

I stood over the work bench, a cleaver in my hand when one of the waitresses sped into the kitchen.

"Lee!" she strained.

I could hear the distress in her voice and I assumed there was an unsatisfied customer. It sounded as if she'd run a marathon just to get back here and let me know about the complaint. I looked up, pausing with my current hacking of sausage. Her eyes were wide, her body vibrating with unease.

"What?" I called over the counter.

She hopped to her other foot, "There's someone here to see you. I told him to wait but he didn't. I tried Lee, I really did."

The kitchen doors banged open and in walked Filip, an amused grin on his face. The waitress backed away, slipping past the revolving doors, back into the dining room.

I pointed the cleaver at Filip, "Ya can't be back here."

His grin faded at the sight of the knife in my hand. He raised his hands in surrender, "Can we talk?"

I scoffed, waving the knife wildly, "Oh… Now ya wanna talk?"

I came around the work bench, pointing the knife right at his chest. He took a step back, hitting the wall behind him.

"C'mon Eva… How long ya plan on avoidin' me?" He pleaded.

I put one hand on my hip, the knife at the tip of his nose, "Foreva."

All of the kitchen staff had now stopped what they were doing and were staring at Filip and I. Filip was staring down the cold metal at me, his eyes soft and pleading. I rolled my eyes, ushering him in to the back office.

Before I slammed the door shut behind me, I turned back to my staff, "Get back to work!"

They all scrambled to continue on with their jobs and I shut the door. I was still facing the closed-door, my eyes squeezed shut. I was now realizing what I looked like. I was sweaty, my hair was flying in all directions and I was covered in various food stains. This was not how I wanted this confrontation to happen. I wanted to at least look like I had showered in that last 48 hours before this happened. I didn't want to see or hear Filip. I just wanted to be alone and be mad.

"Ya have yer staff scared shitless of ya." Filip chuckled.

Without turning I murmured, "Careful what ya say, Filip." I flicked the knife back into view, "I'm still holdin' a knife."

He stopped laughing but I swear I could feel the smirk that was still on his face. I thought about what he said and I imagined I did scare my staff. I'd been a tyrant these past few days, not at their fault, but at the man who was now standing in my office. I turned slowly, crossing my arms.

"What d'ya want?" I titled my head, waiting for his answer.

He shrugged, leaning against the desk, his arms crossed like mine, "Ta talk."

I crooked an eyebrow, "We're talkin'…."

"C'mon Eva, ya still can't be this mad." He griped.

I narrowed my eyes, "When was the last time someone compared ya ta a skank?"

"That's not what I was doin' an' ya know it." He huffed.

"Have ya been sleepin' with otha crow eata's?" I questioned.

He was taken aback, "Why does tha' matter?"

I threw my hands up, "How can ya ask that? Ya compare me ta one of them, all the while yer sleepin' with them and me. I don't fuck around with every man in a cut, with a reaper on its back. Hell, I've neva even kissed one 'till ya came along… How's that for being a damned crow eata?"

My accent thickened as I yelled. I could see the struggle in his eyes as he tried to keep up with my fast speech. When I finished he was silent, contemplating.

He shook his head, "I wasn't comparin' ya to a crow eater, I was comin' up with an excuse tha' would be easily believed by tha rest of my club. I never even went so far ta think ya fit inta the same category as those girls."

I stood there, pinching the bridge of my nose. I felt a migraine coming on. He took a step towards me and I squinted at him through my hand. He tucked a few stray strands behind my ear, chuckling when they didn't stay put.

"Can't we jus' have some fun? No implications?" he lowered his voice.

I ran my hand down my face, eyes closed, "Fun or no fun, Filip, I don't share."

He was about to shrug, until he processed the meaning of my words. He was still, thinking about my revelation.

He let out a breath, "I'll still have ta put up a front with tha boys."

My eyes opened at that, "Forgive me for not believin' it would just be 'a front'."

His laugh was low and breathy, "C'mon sweethear'. I know ya've been enjoin' our time together, there's no denyin' tha'."

I shook my head, "I'm not denyin' anything. I'm wary as ta whether ya can actually keep yer word."

"Have a little faith." He murmured, leaning in close, planting a small kiss on my lips.

I gave in and kissed him back. There was no urgency, no roughness, just understanding; sealing the deal. Then in dawned on me.

With one hand on his chest I pushed him back, "Why?"

"Why what?" He breathed.

I shivered at the sound of his voice, our intimate moment affecting me, "Why are ya agreein' ta this?" I just told the man if he wanted to continue what we were doing, he needed to stop sleeping with other women.

He shrugged, "Ya've grown on me, woman."

Something in the way he said 'woman', referring to me, sent my body into chaos. I was fighting between shuddering at the sound of the word, and keeping my cool with the heat that flushed through my face.

I scrunched one eye at him, "I… um… d-did… Did ya just call me woman?"

His lips brushed against my ear, teeth lightly grazing, "Aye…" he hummed, "Do ya like that?" his breath a flurry down my neck, "…when I call ya…" he lowered his voice another octave and whispered against the sensitive spot just below my ear, "woman."

I closed my eyes as they rolled back into my head, my teeth biting down on my lip harshly. He overwhelmed my senses. One hand placed flat on the door, beside my head, the other tugging on my shirt to show more skin; his lips ghosting against my exposed neck and shoulder; his smell, which had become so familiar to me, of spicy aftershave, cigarettes and leather. In a flash movement, uncaringly losing all control, I fisted my palms into his cut, yanking the man towards me. My mouth attacked his, stifling the snicker that rose out of him.

Both his hands enveloped my head, trapping me in place. I didn't wait long before gliding my tongue along the crease of his lips, diving in with the tiniest approval on his part. Another chuckle rose in his chest at my reaction and I bit his lip in retaliation. He hissed, plastering his body against mine. My hands roamed, flipping up under his shirt, tracing the divots of his stomach. His head drooped, momentarily, his hair falling into his eyes, while I explored his body. I reached around, my fingers inching up his back. He brought his hands towards my face, resting them on the tops of my shoulders. Our mouths twisted together, neither of us wanting to give control to the other. We nipped, sucked and tasted each other, fighting for dominance.

Frustrated with my incessant need to be in control, Filip's fingers dug into my shoulders, his groin pushing against me. He ripped his lips away from mine, trailing his tongue down the side of my jaw, planting rough kisses down my neck. His teeth nibbled on the spot where my collarbone and neck met. A whimper of pleasure seeped out of me. His hands travelled down, reaching for the waistline of my jeans. His left hand dipped below the fabric, running along the line of my thong, his right hand circling around the button, preparing to take them off.

I came back to my senses, my hands gripping both his wrists, "Not here, we can't."

His eyes snapped open, staring up at me, "Yes we can."

He attempted to kiss me again but I turned my face, his lips landing on my cheek, "No. If I leave this room even more hot and bothered than when I walked in, people will start speculatin'."

He rumbled deeply, "And?" his face nuzzling against mine. He blew lightly on my cheek, sending me back into a lust filled darkness.

I shook the feeling away, "Yer club… These people know who they are… They'll go around town, mentionin' what they think happened here today…"

He groaned, knocking his forehead against the door, "Dammit."

He let out a shout pushing away from me. He straighten out his shirt, and repositioned himself in his pants, to hide the obvious bulge.

"I'll be back for ya." He promised, "Ya can count on tha'."

I grinned, leaning in to kiss him quickly, "I'll be waitin'."

He narrowed his eyes, ripping open the office door. I set my face in a scowl, as he rolled his eyes storming out of the room.

To make even more of a show, I shouted after him, "Stay out!"

I watched his retreating back, going through the dining room before scanning my kitchen. All the staff had stopped again, to take in our little scene.

I crossed my arms, glaring at them, "Nothing to see here!"

They all hopped back to work, missing the smirk that grew on my face. I returned to the jambalaya I was cooking before Filip had shown up. This was going to fun.

We spent the next month and a half sneaking around town. If we were ever in public, near each other, we made it a contest to see who could seem more stubborn than the other. Our pillow talk consisted of Filip telling me about how the club was worried that I'd kill him when he was least expecting it. We laughed together knowing that they had no idea, none at all.

The boys liked to stop by the restaurant often, ordering take out for lunch and they were always wary of sending Filip to pick up. If he did get chosen, they'd make sure he had an escort, typically Ortiz. We made it especially hard for the kid to 'keep the peace' between the two of us. Ortiz was always throwing himself in-between the two of us when we fake fought. We had turned our agreement into the biggest game of our lifetime. Happy was the only one who saw right through our charade. Even with a name like his, he definitely wasn't happy with our arrangement. Even though he knew what the two of us were up too, we still played pretend around him. He fought the scowl every time he saw us. He ignored the entire exchange best he could, but it was starting to get on his nerves, knowing that we would be a lot better off if we just admitted to what we were doing. The charade was causing unneeded stress on the club; always looking over their shoulders to see if I was going to be there brandishing a gun.

Even with all the fun and games, I was still avid that he not sleep with any other women while we fooled around. If I ever happened to find myself around the clubhouse, and I saw his front, I would become increasingly jealous. This caused too many arguments between the two of us. He asked that I show faith in him and trust that there was nothing going on, but all I could think was if he's willing to play this game with me, than there was nothing stopping him from gallivanting around with other woman. It was my fault really, I had agreed to this purely on the fact that it felt good. I wasn't sure why I became so jealous at the sight of him with another woman. Maybe I was telling him the truth when I told him I didn't share. I eventually turned the tables on him, flirting openly with other men, when I knew his eyes were on me. It didn't matter where I was, the grocery store, TM Auto, walking down Main Street. No matter, if he was watching, and there was another man around, I jumped at the chance to flirt, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

This added element to our game, had us clamouring over the other to try to outdo ourselves. We became careless, almost being caught dozens of times. This was the last straw for Happy. He started with cornering us, individually, cussing us out, telling us to come clean but neither of us would let it go. Filip was too stubborn to let me win, knowing I would gloat about how I was right and there was no chance in hell I was going to let him win. He'd use it against me, making me a conquest and nothing more.

Happy eventually decided to take matters into his own hands. He put a plan into motion, one that would have the two of us forced into the limelight. Happy had invited me to that week's SAMCRO party, telling me that all the boys would love to see me around. He also mentioned that a few of the old ladies were asking about me, namely Donna and Gemma. Who was I to say no to that request? It would give me another chance at one upping Filip.