"Aye, ye are the smilin' boy's lass, right?"

I looked up from the book I was reading to stare into the shockingly blue eyes of a SAMBEL member. He was a boy around my age, with shaggy dark brown hair and a prospect patch on his cut. I nodded and replied, "Yeah, I'm Juice's old lady. My name is Laura but the guys call me Moon."

"Is it cause ye eyes are big as the full moon?" he asked with his head tilted to the side.

"No," I laughed. "Moon is my middle name. I'm Native American by birth."

"Oh. I'm Patrick."

"It's nice to meet you Patrick. Can I help you with anything?"

"Just wanted to check up on ye. Ye can come out here with the rest of us. We're just drinkin' a bit and playin' some pool and darts."

I shrugged and marked the page in my book to stand up. I watched Patrick's blue eyes rake down my body and I looked down at what I was wearing. A gray tank top and a pair of black shorts with a pair of white ankle socks. My hair was braided down my back and I wasn't wearing any makeup. I looked like I did when I first woke up at home, but Patrick was staring at me hard. I cleared my throat and his eyes snapped down at his feet. I grabbed Juice's hoody off the end of the bed and pulled it on over my tank top before I followed him out to the clubhouse. The set up of the SAMBEL club house was similar enough to the SAMCRO clubhouse that I didn't feel out of place.

I sat at the bar next to an older man that reminded me a lot of Piney. He smiled at me and waved at a prospect to pour me a beer. He said gruffly, "I assume ye ain't gonna be drinkin' one of those lil girly drinks?"

"A beer will be fine."

"Not tequila for ye man?" Patrick asked.

"He's not Mexican," I informed them. "He's Puerto Rican, he was born in New York, and I do not drink tequila."

The older man chuckled and said, "Well, we'll have to talk to him tonight about that, won't we? Have ye drinkin' with us 'fore the night is over."

"Just a beer for now." I took the beer that the prospect offered and took a long drink. We sat in silence until Patrick spoke again.

"So, lass, ye are awful young to be runnin' with a son. How long have ye been with the grinnin' one?"

"I've been with Juice almost three years."

"And does he tell ye things about the club?"

"Only what every other Son tells their old lady." I drank my beer slowly. There was always a reason for a man to be asking questions about a woman's man. They either wanted to know their chances of getting in her pants or they wanted information about her man.

"So I take it ye know a few secrets from round ye town," the older man tried to make it sound light hearted.

"No, not really," I replied innocently. "I've been gone at college this year and Juice hasn't really wanted to bother me with details. He said it was important for me to focus on my school work."

"Oh," Patrick was clearly disappointed. "Well let's celebrate ye man's need to keep ye head in the right place. Cheers to good men and to the Sons."

I raised my glass and allowed the two SAMBEL members to clink their glasses with mine. We drank and Patrick followed me over to the pool table to play pool. A few hours later, Juice stumbled in dirty and worn out with Opie, Jax, Happy, and Clay at his heels. I tilted my head up from where I was trapped between Patrick and the pool table while he was showing me how to line up a particularly difficult shot. My vision swam a little as I worked to get it to focus on Juice and I could tell his eyes were taking in the scene angrily. I was bent over the pool table with Patrick at my back. I'd discarded the oversized hoody when Patrick and I had started placing bets on the game and I was in my short shorts and tank top. There was a lot of skin showing.

"Laura Moon Mase, come here," Juice's voice was calm but I knew it wouldn't last long if Patrick spoke up, which he did.

He took his hands off from around me and stepped back quickly. He said fast, "It's not what it looks like."

Everybody always fucking said that. It was the dumbest thing in the world to say and that fucking dumbass said it. Even in my inebriated state, I could watch Juice's face contort into one of anger. He snarled, "Well it just looked like you were showing my old lady how to play pool. So if it's not what it looks like, it must be something way fucking worse."

"Juice," I hated the fucking slur in my voice. The stupid fucking bet on the pool game had been a beer for every shot you lost by. We'd played four games with me getting my ass kicked by Patrick and that fucking difficult shot. "Juice, calm down."

"Laura, just come here."

I grabbed his hoody off the chair next to the pool table and made my way to him as quickly as I could, but I could feel my steps wavering. When I got to him, he grabbed my wrist and held it tight, his eyes not even pausing on me before they made their way up to Patrick again. I sighed. Juice wasn't ever the truly jealous type but when he did get jealous, he was unrelenting. I knew the Opie thing had been driving him insane since it happened, and I hadn't stopped heaping things on top of him. I'd ignored direct orders from him, forced my way to Ireland, and he walked in on a prospect with his hands on me. Juice was the sweetheart of the SAMCRO crew but that didn't mean he didn't hold true to some of the traditions concerning women. He'd never hit me, but that didn't mean my punishment wouldn't come in another form.

"Look, Juice, right?" Juice nodded stiffly at Patrick. "I didn't touch ye woman. I was just showin' her how to play pool."

"You saw her fucking crow," he growled. "You saw her come in with me." His head snapped down to me and he demanded, "You tell him you're my fiancé?"

I nodded and his attention turned back to Patrick. "So all of that, and you still put your fucking hands on my old lady?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Shut up," Juice cut him off. "Tonight, at the celebration, we are going in that ring together and I'm going to beat your ass."

"Juice…"

"Laura, for once, shut the hell up and put my fucking hoody on now."

He released my arms long enough for me to put the hoody on. When it was on, he grabbed my arm and yanked me towards the bedroom. I stumbled and he sighed hard. I knew he felt a little guilty for the rough treatment. He reached down and picked me up in a fireman's carry. I heard the loud crack of his hand on my ass before I felt it and god damn did it sting. He didn't say anything to anyone around us. He just carried me to the apartment and dropped me roughly on my feet. He shut and locked the door behind us before he turned to me and stared. I knew enough to be ashamed.

"Wanna fucking explain to me why I came back after being shot at to find some asshole's hands on you when you were half fucking naked?"

"I wasn't half naked. I'm wearing more than most of the crow eaters at the clubhouse do."

He stepped close to me and bent over me, his face in mine while his hands clasped at my shoulders, not tight enough to truly hurt but tight enough to make me wince a little. He growled, "That is the worst fucking argument I've ever heard out of you, Laura. Maybe if you weren't fucking drunk, you'd be able to think of something better."

"Juice, nothing happened."

"So fucking what? This isn't Charming. You don't fucking know these people. We don't even really know these people. And you, you decided that you should get drunk and let a mother fucking prospect rub up on you?"

"That's not how it happened, Juice. And I'd really appreciate it if you didn't talk to me that way."

"Laura, I haven't ever talked to you this way and you fucking know it. Maybe if I had, you'd fucking know better than to let somebody other than me fucking put their hands on you. First the fucking thing with Ope, now this. Do I have to fucking chain you to me whenever you fucking leave the house?"

"Nothing fucking happened." My mind was beginning to clear and it was filled with anger.

"Well then stop putting yourself in a fucking position where it looks like I fucking have to be worried."

"Fine. I fucking won't leave the house. I won't have a gun. I won't go to the clubhouse. I won't talk to anyone. I'll stay home and be your fucking little housewife."

"That's not what I'm saying, Laura. Don't turn this around on me. Get your ass changed and let's fucking go. SAMBEL is having a party for us tonight."

"I'm not going after that."

"You're fucking going."

"Juice…"

He grabbed my arm and yanked me to his body hard. His mouth came down over mine in a smothering kiss and, after a quick second, he pulled away. He commanded, "You're going, Laura. You're going to get ready and then you're going. I'm going to let everybody know that you're my fucking old lady and they keep their hands off of you."

He stared down at me with those hard brown eyes and I felt a whimper escape my throat as my eyes welled up. His brow furrowed in confusion for a second and then he said stubbornly, "Uh-uh, Laura. No crying."

I sniffed and wiped my arm across my face quickly as I turned to walk towards my bag. He sighed and grabbed me to pull me back to him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me to his body. His head bent down so he could rest his chin on my head and his whole body heaved as he took in a long breath. He said softly, "I'm sorry I yelled, Laura Moon. I just…you can't…things aren't the way they are back home. You can't be doing stuff like that, okay? We don't know these people. You don't know if you're safe. You didn't even have your damn gun on you. The fucking gun that you fought with me to keep. I just….I can't…I can't lose you, alright?"

"You're not going to," I promised. I tilted my head up to stare at him and he pressed his lips to mine softer that time.

"Wendy did crank. Donna was killed. Gemma got raped. And now this shit with Abel. Being part of SAMCRO's family doesn't protect you, baby. I can't let you get hurt. You can't put yourself in the way of danger anymore."

"I won't."

"You will. You always will and I'll always yell at you and feel bad when I do it because you have me wrapped around your tiny fucking finger."

"Well, let's see if I can wrap myself around your body before we go out," I offered, trying to appease him, make him feel better.

"Temptress," he accused.

"Only if it works."

He chuckled and I wrapped my hands in the front of his jacket to pull him towards the bed. As my knees hit the bed and I went down on my back, he warned, "You'll be with Gemma from here on out. You don't get to be on your own anymore."

"So you're giving me a babysitter?"

"Damn straight."

I rolled my eyes and kissed him. He kissed me back and we made love.