Thanks to DontWannaBeAClue for editing again.

Disclaimer: I do not own the SOA-characters or the story. I only own my OC.

Before the chapter starts I need to say: The way I describe any kind of person in this story is not my personal view of things. The way I write is my try to describe them out of Happy's eyes (or Sophie's). I don't want to offend anyone and I'm not driven by stereotypes. So please, don't take anything personally.

Now I hope you all enjoy the new chapter and please let me know what you think.

Tacoma, Washington — April, 2006

She was like an angel; an angel coming straight from the fancy life. When she entered the clubhouse for the first time, all eyes were glued to her appearance. She was tall and well-build, with legs, long enough to reach the universe, clad in a pencil skirt they reached to small feet that were lifted from the floor by decent but compelling pumps with killer-heels.

Lean arms showing off those small muscles flexing slightly under the smooth surface, sticking out of a dressy blouse covering a flat stomach and a cleavage a man was literally forced to look at.

Long wavy and warmly blonde hair, big blue eyes and plump lips, but all you wanted to do was bury your face into those perfect big tits, use them as a pillow and sleep forever.

Her outfit alone had to be worth as much as his first bike, that was for sure. Nonetheless she came with a sweet attitude; too sweet maybe.

Girls like that didn't last long in this kinda life, and never as an old lady. And if they did, they weren't one to become happy. Angels weren't made for the rough world of a man whose purpose in life consisted of something she couldn't even understand.

Melissa didn't understand a lot of shit and despite the perfect body and that thrall-like behavior, Happy never got what Adam saw in this designer-shit wearing intelligence-allergy with her even dumber daughter. He was a man who couldn't stand a girl longer than a few hours if she was busting his nerves with pure stupidity.

But the much more interesting question was; what did this designer-rag see in him? The most valuable things Adam owned were his babies; apart from this, material shit didn't matter to him. Harley one, Harley two and Harley three; three babies maybe worth a little over 100k were pretty and fancy but nothing that made him an suit wearing exhibit from the high society with million dollars in his bank-account.

Melissa was never exactly Old-Lady-material. Like her daughter, she was just this nerve-wracking mosquito which was robbing your sleep by buzzing around your head all night. And all you wanted to do was to squash this bitch, but when you switch the light on to do so, you couldn't see it and when you switch it off, there it was again. Buzzzzzzzzzz

There were times Happy thought it was just a midlife-crisis with pussy; men used to go crazy, get themselves a busty, young bitch after buying the biggest sports-car available and women got themselves a real bad boy, right?

He thought it was just a matter of time until Melissa realized she and her brain-damaged Gucci-daughter weren't made for this life.

Though, she didn't realized shit. Ten years later and she still was there. Out of shape, wearing shit from the peg and still not the brightest candle on the cake.

Although she wasn't quite the paragon of an Old Lady, she was pretty good when it came to turn a blind eye on her man after he came home, smelling like booze and pussy; not her pussy of course. She'd simply pretend to not see the bite-marks and scratches, like they didn't exist. It was so unbelievably idiotic to him. Because Happy knew, when Adam went on from this and left the house again, that stupid bitch was crying like a damn wolf to the fucking moon.

It was something Happy wasn't able to understand; not with Melissa and not with other old ladies. It was part of the reason why he couldn't stand Mason anymore.

For him it was simple. If you have a problem with his ongoing cheating-shit, open your mouth. If he can't live by your rules, then kick him out or move on yourself. Nobody had forced that life on you. And if you can live with it, than do it, use condoms, don't swallow but don't complain or cry about it; period.

Despite the crying though, Melissa seemed to be able to take a lot of shit from him. Dirty clothes, sometimes bloody, the smell of gunpowder and of course she had no problems with the Feds constantly prying into her life. With cops ransacking their house on a regular base. With bailing her man out whenever necessary after a brawl or something serious.

But Melissa obviously wasn't cut out to withstand a life with her man in prison. At least that was what they found, written in a letter left behind on the coffee-table five years ago. Next to a bottle of jack and an emptied bottle of sleeping-pills.

There were no signs of murder; no intruder, no fight. Dressed in a chic and classy outfit, there was just the foam destroying those brightly red colored lips, while the rest of her make up was still on point.

Even her own daughter knew it was suicide. She knew about her mother's struggle to keep up with the life of the man she loved but never really knew. But Adam, he wasn't one to bear the thought of his own wife killing herself. It was driving him insane in a way Happy had never seen before. It had changed him, made him someone different. He'd forced the club to find the murderer, and they'd tried to help him in every imaginable way. But the club didn't have much of time to waste, hunting a damn ghost that didn't exist. So it didn't take long until the so-called investigation stopped, since they knew there wasn't anyone to find. What they didn't know though, there was too much heat left inside of him. Anger which apparently was growing and boiling beneath the surface until the man was ready for his revenge. He accused the club for not taking care of his wife like they were supposed to do as his family. For not preventing her death, which in his sick mind still wasn't suicide. At least that was what they found in a note, left on his kitchens countertop along the word "NOW YOU'LL PAY" in an otherwise completely empty house. It seemed like he didn't live there for a long fucking time. Considering the dust taking over the place, it could've been almost a year, if not even more. Finally they came to the point where they doubted that he ever moved in again after he was released from Walla Walla State Penitentiary two years ago.

Sitting around the table there was an eerie silence surrounding them. No one spoke, no one knew what to say or do. The president at the head of the table still held the note in hand, the phone Sophie had given them laying in front of him, while he replayed the message over and over again. As if he wasn't able to believe any of it and nobody could blame him. But this wasn't about believing. There wasn't anything left to believe. This was all about accepting, though it was hard to accept that Adam had turned on them. One of the first man of SAMTAC. One of the first members joining Lee at the very table when he'd founded the charter twenty-two years ago.

He knew enough about the club to destroy the whole charter, three others if he wanted to; he simply had to disappear.

There was no idea how to do that, though. They didn't know where he was right now, where they would find him. They didn't have a damn clue.

When Kozik and JC reappeared in the chapel, they threw a bunch of bugs in the middle of the table, wordlessly telling them how deep the shit really was that they sat in.

"Need more men and time to check the whole building." The Sergeant said, his expression exhausted, but all eyes snapped towards Lorca as he let out an angry shout, throwing an ashtray right into the wall before it hit the floor, shattering to pieces.

The VP wasn't the only man who was ready to throw a damn fit.

Suddenly Lee rose to his feet and went over to the locker in the corner of the room. Taking out pen and paper he wrote something down before turning the pad for all of them to see.

And everyone knew what he was doing when he didn't say out loud that he wanted the head of all charters located in Oregon, Nevada and California. Nobody wanted those fuckers to hear who was heading this way.

"Two days." He said before pointing at Kozik; "You, take whoever you need and clean the damn building…Hap, you're with me." And Happy only nodded once before he stood and followed the President out of the room.

The last thing Sophia had planned for her life was getting killed by a biker. But she hadn't planned to get in trouble with them either, nor did she plan to get cosy with one of them afterwards. So her plans were probably for the birds these days.

When she was young, she used to stop in her tracks and enthusiastically watch the passing motorcycles from the sidewalks. Her eyes full of admiration, swooning over ridiculous teenager phantasies she'd gained throughout her father's rants about staying away from rogue gang-members.

Her father was a good man and he tried to be a good father with all he got. But he was so eaten up from all the guilt of a missing mother in her life that he used to let pass a lot of shit she'd done. And when he finally started to gain the heart to punish her, Sophie couldn't give a fuck anymore.

She'd never done what her father wanted her to. She was stuck in that rebellion she'd started the day she'd passed a red light with her pink bicycle at the age of seven. After that, there was no salvation for her and maybe it was that day which had determined her destiny to die a bitter death by the calloused hands of a dangerous biker.

Maybe it was just her subconscious wish to avoid the inevitable fate of hers, when she'd tried to turn her life in a decent one two years ago. Actually she couldn't stand the guilt in her father's eyes anymore while he blamed himself for everything she was.

There was no way for her to become what her father once wanted her to be, but she at least didn't want to break the law anymore and keep her gambling-adventures legit while otherwise living just a boring life.

But all of her efforts were thrown right out of the window when a never-ending trail of unlucky events hailed down on her until she found herself locked in a small office within a long-established pokerclub downtown. Sat in an old and creaking wooden-chair while waiting for her punishment, joined by nothing but an old metal-box in its ridiculous attempt to be a safe.

Everything from there on was just the result of previous events. A causal train yet finding its next destination in a clubhouse she'd never set a foot into before.

When she was a kid, Sophie always thought a clubhouse was some cute cabin up in the woods, where they hid their secret stuff while making some badass biker-business-plans. Pretty much like the cabin they'd brought her into months ago. But she knew they weren't some failed scouts. So she knew the cabin wasn't anything to be called clubhouse and the actual one wasn't easy to miss. It was a big-ass three-story building in the middle of everything attached to an even bigger lot, packed with bikes and cars and people all the time.

It was exciting to see it for the first time in its whole glory after Happy had brought her here. But something told her, she wouldn't stay long enough to see more than she already had.

Everything happened so fast; too fast to be processed at the same time.

She was brought to the clubhouse in a van coming to Happy's apartment and she'd cleared her phone of private stuff and handed it over before she was brought upstairs into a dorm room by a man called Slimer.

Those guys really seemed to have a thing for stupid nicknames, but the more important thing was that Sophie felt itchy every time one of his hands landed on her. She didn't even want to think about how he'd gotten that damn name.

He'd told her something about a shower in the joining bathroom, along with fresh towels and sheets and then he was gone.

Though she was supposed to be pretty tired, she wasn't able to rest. She'd tried for hours and was still awake and fit like a damn fiddle.

Her mind didn't stop working, her bones didn't stop moving. She was pacing around the room for hours, feeling like a caged lioness. And the bars in front of the window just confirmed this ridiculous idea.

She just couldn't help this bad feeling of déjà vu and all she wanted to do was slap herself around the room for going to Happy's apartment in the first place. But she didn't like the thought of him getting hurt or worse because one of his was guys getting cosy with the enemy.

She just wanted to tell him and go, thinking about her next move and find herself a safe place, so she wouldn't be dead by noon.

But he didn't let her to go. Instead he'd pulled out the jackknife she'd brought with her and locked the door behind her before he'd taken the keys. And now she was stuck in a small room that was clean and tidy somehow but also had this disgusting smell comparable to the cabin, but just a bit worse. She felt the heavy urge to bite herself in the goddamn ass.

She still didn't have a clue in what kinda shit she ran into this time, but the missing conversation between now and the time Happy had stopped her from running from his place wasn't indicating anything good. She'd spent a long time during the night, thinking about the possibility that SOA was working together with the Kings. But she'd ignored her rational mind screaming at her to run and hoped her gut wasn't fooling her. She wasn't really certain about her gut anymore though.

She was disturbed once during the day, by a wordless man who'd examined every inch of the room with a device she assumed was something like a detector. Something that was giving her the idea of them really being fucked by a damn traitor, which made her finally succeeded in her attempt to calm down a little.

She relaxed even more when the feeling of a déjà vu vanished as another cut-wearing guy came into the room, bringing her a duffle bag full of clothes from her place. Altogether this wasn't feeling all that bad anymore.

With obviously fresh sheets on the bed, she probably wasn't threatened to get herself some less delicious gonorrhea. And with the feeling of slight safety and after fighting a heavy battle against her damn hygiene-thing she finally laid down onto the bed.

It was already late when Happy finally appeared in the room. Sophia turned onto her back to look at him and propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him out of sleepy eyes.

He locked the door and leaned against it before he stared at her serious and thinking, almost menacing, which was causing her stomach to do a backflip.

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe all of this was really, really fucking bad.

She wasn't scared of him though, that probably wasn't proving her sanity. But not being scared didn't make her stupid enough to think he wasn't able to hurt her. She was aware of the fact that he was way stronger than her and that, if it came down to it, she would never had a chance against him. And considering the words glistening around his collarbone, the missing fear probably was insane. But sleeping with a man who belonged to a group of paranoid bikers who had once kidnapped her, who made her kill two other bikers from a rival MC…that wasn't a proper sign of mental health either.

She did a lot of insane things lately, so it didn't surprise her that she wasn't scared. But being locked in a room with him, with her knife out of reach while he was radiating a shit-ton of anger didn't sit well with her. Anger and something else she wasn't able to identify, but this made it even worse.

Sophie didn't like not being able to read someone mind. Well, actually there was no way to read anybody's mind, but the behavior was reflecting it very well. Emotions, subconscious reflexes and movements; all of that was helping her to understand what someone thought or felt or was about to do. It was one of those things she was able to analyze and use to take advantage. One of those things she used to earn her living.

Unfortunately Happy was one of those people she would've never played any hand against. If he didn't want you to, you wouldn't know shit and probably this alone should've been a sign for her to stay away from him.

After watching her for a while, he finally made his way over and came to a halt in front of the bed. From where he looked down at her, still giving her that studying look that made her uncomfortable in a real awkward kinda way. If there was one thing worse than not being able to read someone, it was not being able to read someone while he obviously was able to read you. This guy was freaking her out.

Though she still felt this strange feeling of trust towards him, which wasn't any less insane considering that she'd gotten a message from DK with one of his guys clearly recognizable in the background.

But she'd stopped to question her own actions a long time ago. She'd already figured, the last year made her become stupidly crazy.

Eventually though he sat down onto the edge of the bed with his back facing her. The reaper from his cut was shining in the dim lit room as suddenly his hand reached back, handing her the knife he'd taken from her almost twelve hours ago.

She took it kinda hesitantly, not missing his thumbs movement as he brushed slightly over the back of her own. This shit was confusing her.

"Pres asked me if I think you'll bring more trouble to our doorstep." He finally spoke as lowly as unexpected and she frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if you do, he'd would've been forced to kick you out. We don't need more shit than we already have."

She couldn't help the tightening feeling in her stomach as he spoke. In the end, she didn't know where to go, or what to do and she wasn't able to figure it out yet.

She couldn't leave Washington but she couldn't go anywhere else either. They knew her name, and where she lived, so her place wasn't an option and she didn't have many friends, because she wasn't good with staying in contact. And people didn't like to be forgotten or to deal with her aggressive bullshit. There was just Sky sticking with her over the years, gaining her trust, but she didn't want to put her at risk. Not her friend Sky and not her as the over-worrying mother hen she'd become.

So she was pretty clueless what to do next while the possibility of being caught was a big one.

"Told him you won't." He then added and she felt her stomach do a flip by his words, and other than she'd expected he didn't sound angry. He rather sounded tired and exhausted and worn out. Just like the heavy breath he let out as he leaned forward, burying his head beneath his hands, rubbing across his head roughly, while his elbows rested on his thighs.

But then he stood and moved to look down at her again, out of those dark eyes while the tiredness in his voice made room for something dangerous.

"You better don't make me regret that, lady." And with that, he was gone.

Sophie sat outside, on the steps leading down from the backdoor. With a coke in her left hand while her right still fumbled with the small bowl someone had brought her french fries in. It was the only thing she was able to eat without going crazy. Well, actually she did go crazy, but fries were the easiest thing to search through since there wasn't any sauce or cheese hiding something.

The coldness flowing over her body told her it had to be pretty late while it didn't bother her as much as it probably should've. But maybe it was the weed she'd gotten from a man called Sony making her feel like that.

Sony was a small man she figured. She assumed he was something around 5'4'' and she really was wondering how he made it to the clubhouse on his bike. She'd heard those monster weighed almost half of a ton, maybe a little less, but Sony didn't put more on the scales than 150 lbs. It was weird to imagine him drive this ear-shattering colossus without crashing at least once.

She almost shrieked in shock, when she suddenly felt something was wrapped around her shoulders. But she calmed quickly as she recognized the smell and when she turned to face whoever worried about her next flu, she saw her nose wasn't fooling her.

Happy didn't talk when he sat down beside her though, a bottle of water in hand, a smoke in the other one while he leaned forward, placing his forearms onto his thighs.

Although she was kinda used to his limited words, this frightening silence was able to freak her out.

He always was a quiet man, obviously not wasting any words. But this was different. His whole demeanor seemed to be different. There was no softness, no closeness. There was just hardness and this awkward distance he'd apparently put between them. Talking seemed to be impossible and he hadn't touched her once since they'd gotten here, beside that little thumb-thing hours ago. This wasn't the man she slowly started to feel so easy around and she didn't know if it was her or the whole situation doing this with him, but the hoodie gave her the idea it might was the last.

She shuffled closer slowly until there finally were just inches between them, but she didn't go any further since she didn't know if this was the right thing to do. This whole situation was to awkward, so strange, it was driving her crazy.

"Should sleep." He said lowly, flicking the butt a few feet away before he blew out the last think cloud of smoke.

Sophie knew he was right, but she wasn't able to calm down anymore. There were still too many things running nonstop through her head.

"Can't." She said just as quiet, letting out a deep breath, while wrapping the hoodie tight around her body. Now she felt the coldness, or was it the warmth she was feeling? She had no clue.

"Scared?" She looked at him after he spoke, but she didn't get the same in return. He kept staring forward into the lot, not giving away anything.

But scared wasn't exactly how she felt, although there wasn't any term she knew to describe it better. It maybe was like an constantly ruling uneasiness getting comfy in her stomach for months now.

"There's barely been a day I wasn't over the last year."

She eventually shrugged and finally he moved to face her, even if it was just for a second before he stared forward again, speaking lowly, "I get that what happened last night isn't the best way to buy your trust…and I won't ask you anything now. Not today, not next week…but when this is over, you're gonna tell me what the fuck is going on in your life. I need to know, what the fuck made you throw that cute ass into this fucked up mess. And if you don't, then just go…I'm done with your keeping-my-mouth-shut-attitude."

She felt a lump in her throat by his cold voice and she swallowed hard to get rid of it.

Turning her head she followed his stare, looking into the dark lot in front of them. It was kinda creepy, but she couldn't help the strange feeling of safety. Was it because of him or the place itself? She didn't know.

"What if I tell you?" She then asked after taking and letting out a deep breath; this wasn't easy for her. She couldn't just talk. The last time she just talked almost ended with her father in prison. Well, she was a kid back then, around twelve years old and she damn sure didn't mean to put him in trouble. She just messed up all those things she was allowed to talk about and not. And she'd stopped talking at all after that. Not the trivial shit, but important things weren't things leaving her mouth. Not to cops nor Feds, not to other people. Not Sky and not even her father knew all those important things. She always had this disgusting feeling of betraying someone's trust and she couldn't do that.

Peering at him she watched the rings at his fingers sparkling in the small light coming from inside the building while he scratched and rubbed at his slightly stubbled chin continuously.

"Then we probably should stop the fucking and start this dating-shit." He suddenly said with a slightly disgusted face by the word 'dating'. It seemed like he was tasting the term slowly with his tongue while he spoke, trying to decide if he liked it or not. She would've been amused when she wouldn't have been interrupted by her heart skipping a beat.

She kinda liked this idea, although…"You don't seem to be a man who likes this dating-shit."

"I'm a man who doesn't know shit about dates…so better don't expect anything good." He said dryly and she couldn't hide the smile coming to her lips as he grumbled lowly, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what he was saying. Well, she barely was able to believe it herself. He really didn't seem to be someone who did dates.

"At least spare me the dinner, huh?…French fries aren't cut out for romantic candlelight-bullshit." She made out a spark of a smirk as he spoke, causing her to wrinkle her nose once.

"Are you laughing at me?" And he turned, looking at her again, still leaning forward while his hands were folded between his knees.

"Nah…who do you think got you those?" He nodded towards her hand which still held the empty bowl, making her brow raise in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"Told me last time." Shrugging he looked forward again.

"Oh, yeah…what do I owe you?"

"Blowjob would be nice."

"Happy!"

There was a bark of laughter escaping him, as she threw her fist into his shoulder and he still chuckled while she stared at him kinda dumbfounded, opening and closing her mouth at the loss of words, feeling like a damn fish out of water.

Suddenly his hand came up, cupping her chin before he drew her closer, closing her half-open mouth with his own. And all distance seemed to be gone, when a quiet sigh left her lips in satisfaction.

"You know…acting all prudish while having a thing for dirty talk isn't the most convincing strategy." He than said lowly, his lips brushing her own faintly while he spoke.

"I'm not prude." She argued, making him smirk against her lips.

"I know…but you try to be."

And she allowed her own graze his slightly replying, "I don't."

He caught her lower lip, sucking it into his mouth hungrily, causing her center to jump in anticipation before a shaking breath escaped her throat, a weird kind of desire taking over her belly.

"Then why didn't I feel those lips around my dick yet? You almost did last time, but stopped yourself…why's that?"

"Jenna Jameson" She said and Happy pulled away quickly, just enough so he could look at her, raising a brow in confusion while he gave her an expression as if she was crazy. Well, she probably was.

"You don't suck dick because of a porn-star?" And she smiled a little, barely able to hold back a giggle. His confusion was matchless wonderful.

"Yeah."

Leaning back against the handrail, he pulled out a pack of smoke and after sticking one into his mouth he finally lit it, relaxing against the cold steel behind him; "Now…that's gonna be an interesting tale."

Thanks for all the faves and follows. I appreciate it a lot.

ReadtoRelax: It sure was cruel, but I think it's the best for both of them.