I do not own the SOA cast and universe. I wish, but I don't! All I own are my own characters, Esther, Jack, Everett, Silk and Carla. Adara Munson was created and is owned by Nixie De Angel, you should check out her stories. :D I also own Buka, a lot. Lavrentiy and Rado as well!
When he wakes up, he's got a massive hangover, his mouth and hands feel sticky, he lost count of how much he drank, his stomach hurts, he plowed his way through a whole bag of marshmallows, his teeth hurt from all the sugar he's ingested, having a bonfire around Esther's burning car.
When he gets to his feet, he's got sand in places he shouldn't, and he pokes his head inside the burnt car to relief his stomach, Bourbon and marshmallows are horrible, going back up. He can't remember much of last night after the explosion, but he does remember chasing s'mores with Bourbon. And Silk leaving with Zack, late, way late, saying he should get himself to bed. Voice of reason, and as usual, he hadn't listened to her.
He relieves his bladder inside of the Honda as well, the sun's very high, it's noon, and when he looks down to the last crow he tried to bury his face in, he gets a second serving of sugar the wrong way, this time it makes him heave, disgusting! He really needs a shower.
Inside of the clubhouse, it's nice and shady, quiet, Gemma has made coffee.
-Here, baby.
-Thanks, Gem.
-Quite a binge you went on last night.
-Bitch set me up.
-I know. What are you going to do about it?
-Nothing right now. I can't keep pushing what needs to be done with Clay to chase and punish a gash. Got shit that needs to be done. Got something to ask you.
-Anything you need.
-Cash me this, and take the money to my mom in Bakersfield? That should cover about six months.
He hands Gemma two nine thousand dollar checks, she takes them, reads them before putting them in her purse with a nod, taking her glasses off.
-I like Silk. She was always a good girl for the club. Solid.
-She's too good a woman to have a crow put on her, Gem. I never even considered it, she's way too good for this lifestyle.
-I'll go and see your mother, today.
-Can you see to put another emergency contact on her file? Esther probably called to remove herself. If I go to jail again, she's only gonna have you.
-You should ask Adara. She loves your mother. Loves you, too, a lot.
-I ain't ever gonna mess with Dara, Gem. She's been through way too much.
-I didn't ask you to fuck her ten ways to Sunday. You should ask her to be an emergency contact. She's do it, for you.
-Can you take care of it? We're probably going to be out of here by the times she comes around.
-Of course.
Half an hour later, Jax is just too lively for the bunch of them, wheels up, everyone, they're going back to Charming. Jax has been talking to Unser, who set them up at the old CaraCara headquarters, they are ready to go back.
On his way out of the clubhouse, there's Piney, Happy hugs him, slips the remaining checks in his grasp.
-If anything happens to me, brother, you get Opie to get my kid in Gardena, bring her somewhere where Esther can't get to her. Money's to take care of her.
-Allright, brother. Don't do anything that's gonna get you killed.
-Just contingencies, old man. Just contingencies.
He feels hungry, during the ride back to Charming. Hungry for everything. And it feels delightful to ride alongside his brothers towards a common goal. There is not a single one of them Clay hasn't burned a way or another. And this is his second time riding since he got out, it's awesome, he has missed this feeling so much.
It's quite late when they make it in Charming, but that was the plan. Come in through the Wahewa reservation, get into CaraCara unnoticed, and get ready for morning.
He's got a solid night of sleep under his belt when he gets up, he gets into the van with Montez, drives, this time, they precede everyone to the Charming Clubhouse and TM garage, leaves the guys at the closed gate, he goes around, he's got to climb the fifteen foot fence in order to get inside the compound and get the door open. Montez is gonna go around the block with the van.
He feels pretty proud, watching his brothers roll in, and park opposite of where they used to park, in the car parking, facing the bikes of the current Charming MC, when Montez pulls up, he just climbs on the foot rail and hangs to the door to go to the end of the parking lot for Montez' U-turn. it's delightful to hear all these Harley's revving.
He just lit a cigarette, leaning against the driver's door when Clay and his guys come out of the clubhouse. Has Clay ever looked so much like a damn ape? Happy doesn't think so, he's got a stupid look on his face, with his sunglasses on to hide his bluffs and deceptions. The guys kill the noise of the bikes, Montez beside him leans against the steering wheel, arms crossed.
-Watch the bullshit coming out of his mouth, brother.
Happy has a snicker, pulling on his cigarette as Clay stops in front of Jax, pulls his glasses off.
-Heard you kids got out.
-Oh, yeah.
-Otto. Opie.
Otto had a snarl on his face, he looked about ready to jump from his bike at Clay's throat.
-So, listen... We're taking over.
-That's gonna up for my guys to vote.
-Not really. We weren't asking, we were announcing. We're shutting you down, Clay. Taking over. How we do it is up to you. But you need to know that Opie, Otto, Hap, Tig and Bobby are really, really hoping you give them hell. Otto's been dying to get his hands on someone. And Hap, well, he's just been miserable, for being so good, so long.
Happy gave a smirk, he hasn't been all that good since he got out of jail.
-We're shutting you down, Clay.
-Well, I guess we got ourselves a Mexican standoff, because we're not going anywhere, son.
While Jax is holding on to his piece about Clay calling him son, Happy notices things. Gogo is nervous. Gaines looks like he wishes he was halfway to the moon. And Greg the Peg is clutching to his gun already, he looks high on crank.
It's a matter of minutes before Alvarez and the Mayans show up, T.O. and the Bastards, and Laroy and the Niners, Jax finally takes his glasses off, puts them in the inside pocket of his kutte, takes off his pack of smoke and lights one.
-I spent half the night brokering a whole bunch of peace around here. I figure it profits you a lot, having everyone at war, you get to push the IRA's guns, and the AB's crank, you get a hand in every pie there is. Guess who the Niners just took care of? Yup. Your white power friends.
-What do you want?
-Me? Nothing. Just to let you know were setting up shop. Coming back in town. Tough, I'm pretty sure there's not enough space in Charming for two Sons of Anarchy charters. And I can't quite vouch that any of my guys are going to behave themselves if they come face to face with your guys. We're taking back Charming, Clay.
Jax starts his bike, Montez gets to the passenger seat as Happy tosses his cigarette and gets behind the wheel. everyone's got their own shit to do, Himself has to pick up a bunch of supplies with Montez, then he has to go to storage. Find himself a place to stay. If he's got to keep being cooped up with these guys he just spent nine years cooped up with, he may as well just shoot them now.
His old apartment, the one he shared with Esther is still empty. No one wants to rent a place that might get blown up because a Son lived there for almost ten years. The landlord he knows will have regrets as soon as he plugs the stereo, and pops his favorite Primus CD. That shit used to wake up the whole neighborhood. Fucking concert amp and shit. Montez takes the second bedroom, he's been told that wasn't permanent, that would be Everett's bedroom, soon enough.
That bass. He's giving the living room a coat of paint, a cigarette between his teeth when Unser comes in, noise complaints. Not that he gives a shit, he's busy, and it's gonna last how long it lasts. And if more complains comes in, he's gonna dig out Rammstein, then they are really gonna regret their mother. He never gave a shit about the neighbors ten years ago, he still doesn't give a shit about them now. It's just business as usual. Jax had said, business as usual.
"Allright, son" goes Unser before leaving. Once he's done painting, he sits in the window, and does nothing but chain smoke and keep watch on the street. Montez turned it way down a little bit after dinner time, just in time for Happy to hear some motorcycles coming this way. He grabbed the semi-automatic, and looked more carefully, Frankie Diamonds and Greg the Peg. Frankie pulls a gun, that makes Happy really, really happy, he gets to shoot at someone. Bye, Greg the Peg. Your leg's waiting for you in Hell.
Frankie keeps on without shooting, he's gonna get the hell out of dodge. So it starts. Jax, 1. Clay, still a big fat 0. Happy grabs his phone, dials Jax. Can't help but smile at the blue phone.
"Yeah?"
-Greg the Peg down. Was him and Frankie. Can I go hurt Frankie?
"Gogo just shot up my house with a full automatic. Have at it."
-Oh, thank you!
Rarely does Happy feel like driving a cage. But this is a special occasion. Very special occasion. He rolls himself to the storage unit, the next to the one where Esther left his shit. She has never seen this car. It was his father's. His 1976 Wagoneer, with the push bars. His father used to do serious damage with this car back in the days. The old man had said so himself. It was the excellent choice, to run over bikes and bikers. Perfect.
A little bit of gas, a little bit of oil, starts like a charm still. A bit stiff, but very driveable. He needs to stop at the gas station to fill her up and wash the windows, but that's as fun as what's to come. He will play Grand Theft Auto in Charming, going after anything that wears a Samcro patch. And to a Rammstein soundtrack, he will probably pop a few boners. Best group Esther ever had him listening to.
Around eight, as he's stopped at the drive through for a sandwich and a drink, Gogo goes by. Flies by, pursued by Tig and Opie. Happy pulls so abruptly that he jumps the curb and hits into a brand new Acura, that doesn't stop him, he wants a piece of that.
The car bounces when he pulls straight on the road, a car veers into the other lane to avoid him, crashes into a Mercedes, but Happy is already a quarter of a mile down the road in hot pursuit. He pulls beside the guys, straight in the middle of the road, reaches to roll down the window to talk to Opie.
-Having fun, yet?
-Greg the Peg's gonna be pushing daisies. I was looking for Frankie.
-In a cage?
-Was my daddy's. Beauty, ain't it?
Opie has a chuckle, as Happy falls back, there's a bus coming, but once it passed, he goes back to the middle of the road, and passes Opie to ram into Gogo with as much speed and torque as he possibly can, the fucker falls off his bike and gets under his wheels, it makes Opie fall off his bike when Gogo's body pops from under Happy's wheels, Opie rolls safely to the curb, but his bike grinds to a halt as it's being rammed by a pick-up truck.
-Hundred points! Biker down! Fifty points!
He slams the breaks, Tig almost runs into him, has to pull onto the curb to avoid him, as Happy slams the beast into reverse, stops by Opie to pick him up and keeps on reverse to make sure there's no more of Gogo.
-Double back! Fifty points!
He pulls forward again to get out of here, goes around Opie's bike, and easily catches up to Tig who's down the road, pulled over.
-Rapturous, yet?
-Oh, yes, my brother!
The truck is jumpy as he pulls forward to keep on, Opie's sitting quietly on the passenger seat, he lights a cigarette as Happy is roaming the streets, looking for one, any one of Clay's boys. Niners, Mayans, Bastards, they all cleared the streets for the night. Jax wouldn't want them to get caught in the crossfire, because after nine years in jail, they are all hungry for retribution. Business would resume as usual at sunrise.
Around eleven, he busts the radiator ramming a motherfucker at high speed between his truck and a really big concrete wall, the blood jizzed onto his windshield. Unser had given them until 6 in the morning. After that, any one of them on the street would get arrested and sent back to jail.
Around three, Jax called to get them back at the clubhouse, they hadn't seen anyone over an hour, and Jax didn't necessarily want to push it with Unser. So Opie was dropped off at the clubhouse in CaraCara, and himself went back to the storage to drop the Jeep, he wasn't going back to the clubhouse, he wanted to be alone. Got himself something to eat, something to smoke, something to listen to, a pack of beer, and some tools and material to wash up the car, and try to fix it as best as he could. Lock himself in there from the inside, and just have a good time, all alone. Playing ghost was the gig, not show their faces for a while. A day, at least.
Around five, his phone rang, Jax, wanted to know where he was.
-Storage unit, just laying low like you asked. Been drinking, fixing up stuff. I'm gonna catch up some z's in a bit.
"Silk called. Wanted to make sure you were fine. What I tell her?"
-All's well in paradise. I'm behaving.
"And are you, really?"
-No?
Jax laughs as Happy hangs up, picks back the wrench, it's going to be hard to fix this radiator without replacement part, he doesn't have what he needs here, but at least, he can keep his hands busy. Despite the hour, he decides to call Buka in Lodi, she's gonna have the parts he needs.
Her strong Russian accent when she picks up always puts a smile on his face, she's truly earned her nickname.
"What fuck you want?"
-A 76 wagoneer grille and radiator. And a bumper, too, chrome if you can help it.
"Is shit if you think I come five at morning, asshole."
-At the storage unit off the 508.
"No."
-Ow, come on, Buka. I just got out of jail, and I'm trying to lay low. My father always gave your father business when it came to the Wagoneer."
"My fajer is dead and your fajer is dead, da? Lavrentiy, fuck off!"
Oh, shit. He interrupted something. No wonder she was in a fouler mood than usual. Buka, that was a boogeyman in her folklore. Or something like that. She looked like a scarecrow, really, six foot two, if she weighed a hundred and fifteen pounds, that was something. Palest blond hair and translucent skin, no tits, no ass, and a perma-scowl on her face. Bitch had been a runway model in Europe, when she was younger. And she had been with Lavrentiy since she was in college in America, that was nearly twenty years ago. He had made fun, at first, that she fucked the help, but Buka was in fact the only woman aside form Gemma Teller-Morrow that he was terrified of. For very different reasons, but just as, if not more terrified.
On the phone, she's yelling at Lavrentiy in Russian, he's yelling back, he really should have waited an hour or two, before bothering her.
"Fuck off dick, I not have chrome."
-But you have a front bumper.
"Da. Is cost you, asshole, I was getting fuck on."
-I noticed. You can finish, before you come. Maybe you'd be mellower.
"Go fuck yourself, French boy."
She hangs up, he manages a short laugh, as he puts the phone back in his pocket, picks up another cigarette. Texts her to pick him a pack up on her way here. Whatever she replies must be really, really foul, because it's in cyrillic writing, in Russian.
He was grilling his last cigarette when he heard her back up, he opened the garage door, she was driving her big jacked up truck, and when she came out of it, as always, she was wearing a shirt that was so worn out is was sheer, and some pajama pants, bare feet, her hair pulled back in a bun.
-Morning, fuck boy.
-Morning.
-You get pussy yet?
He bites his lips, looking at her. This feels like a trick question, and if he wanted to fuck something that looks like a 12 years old boy, he's go and find himself a twelve years old boy, he thinks as she opens the back door of her big truck and pulls the radiator and grille and hands it to him.
-I've seen Silk.
-Ah. If you want pussy, my brother Rado open pussy house with Mexi-dude. Diosa. Bunch whores and fake tits. That for you, da?
Was that a backhanded compliment, or was she just being a bitch? He takes the radiator and grille, as she walks past him and opens the hatch so abruptly that he can't help the step back, she could very well have a Kalashnikov in there to bust his balls for interrupting her getting laid. But no, it's just the front bumper, she pulls it out, he has another steps back as she swings it around, she could very well smash him in the face with it.
-Here is bumper. Not chrome. What you do? Run over Mayans?
-Something like that. Put it down. On the ground. Down.
She has a smirk, a low moan comes out of her throat, he's amusing her, right now. He grabs the bumper, brings it in the garage and puts it against the wall, before opening the truck fund safe, he had to fumble with the code a few time, that's one he can't ever remember. There's about a thousand dollar in this safe, his father kept there for parts.
The lock just clicked to open, when he feels Buka behind him, too late to do anything about it. She's got a firm grip on his junk, he amused her a little too much.
-Little French boy is scare for his dick?
-No.
-I think yes.
There is no holding on to the sigh he's got, he's trying to think of his mother, not to pop a chubby under Buka's hand. His mom and his uncle Pierre. Clay. Jax. Opie. Tig. Venus. Jail. Anything that would make him go soft in a hurry. He saw what happened to the last guy he knew of that had touched Buka, even if she had initiated. It was Mexico, sixteen years ago or so, Buka's father had got him to enforce something going on, Buka's sister had been grilled by immigration, and her husband had failed the INS inspection. Sergei had put his hands on Buka, and Lavrentiy had shot him without even thinking twice, it had all happened in Russian, so he wasn't too sure of what exactly it had been about, but Lavrentiy wasn't scared of offing anyone that got between him and his boss' daughter.
What if Laventiy is in the truck? Waiting for him to flip Buka on the hood of the truck and pull her pants down? Shit! Think of Piney. Or Otto. Ratboy even.
-Huh, you are not funny for play, little French boy.
-I told you I saw Silk.
-Give me money.
His eyes roll back as she finally frees his groin from her grip, she pads away as he shudders before grabbing a couple hundred dollars to give them to her, she takes them in her hand, looks at them, before looking up at him, with her beautiful scarecrow face. Tig would kill to have this chick grab his junk.
-Two hundred?
-A radiator, a grille and a bumper.
-Three hundred.
-You sh...
Nope, don't say that, she's very well capable of raping you, Happy! He just goes back to the safe, pulls two fifty dollar bills and gives them to her, it makes her smile. Even when she smiles, she's scowling, how is that even possible? She turns around, closes the garage door, he hears her leave, she was always heavy on the accelerator. He's got cold sweats going down his spine, seeing Buka was always strange. Sometimes, it felt like Charming was a landing zone for Aliens. himself, Tig, Chucky, Buka, Esther, who else...
I wish I owned Rammstein and Primus. Sad, huh? R&R!