Agent June Stahl climbed out of the drivers seat with a file in one hand and a cup of small town coffee in the other, sunglasses adding to the sophisticated charm of her tailored pants suit and pumps. She was fashionably late, the task force already making themselves at home here at Charming PD. It was almost comical, how a small town like this harbored a motorcycle gang with ties to the fucking IRA. And somehow she was treated like the scum on the bottom of a shoe.
She was met at the door by a tall, clean cut, handsome man in uniform. She smirked. She had always loved a man in uniform. And he looked giddy, as if he was about to cream his pants that the Feds were in town to clean house. She could smell that naivety on him a mile away. Good. She could use a local to help her bring down the Sons-then maybe she wouldn't have to drive the next town over for a macchiato latte. It'd be nice. If progress could come to Mayberry.
"You must be Agent Stahl. Deputy Chief David Hale," the introduction coming with a professional handshake as well.
"Hello David. Nice to meet you. Why don't you show me the way to my new office?"
On the other side of town, daylight was peeking through Jax's blinds, rays of sunshine raining down on the hair of the woman who was currently curled against him, her beautiful mass of red hair covering her face. He looked down at her, smiled, rolled his head on his neck. She had been eager last night and had kept up with him, matched his hunger move for move. He had been surprised that during the three or five times he had woken her between last night and now that she had met his advances with a smile each time. Even though he knew she was tired and sore. Hell, if he'd done his job right hopefully she'd have a bit of difficulty walking today. At the thought he felt himself swell again. She groaned and turned on her back, throwing her arm over her eyes and slapping at his shoulder, "God, you're insatiable," she scolded him. And he laughed. Partly because she was right. But mainly because she looked smoking hot with her hair falling around her breast, the rosy tips of her nipples peeking through her locks, light streaming across her body, sheets outlining the curves of her frame. But most importantly, she was next to him. Warm. And happy.
"Well I had some nice encouragement last night. Somebody, besides me obviously, loves a good fuck," he joked, maneuvering her body so that she was straddling him, he reached up and twirled a strand of hair around his finger. She snorted in response but it quickly turned into a smirk.
"You're a class act Teller," she joked-half heartedly-leaning down to kiss him, a quick brush across the lips, teasing, tempting, before opening her mouth to his probing tongue, and quickly pulling back before things got out of hand, "And I would love to continue. But I'm exhausted. And sore. And I'm going to be late for work."
"Tease," he told her, sitting up on his elbows and kissing her lips before working his way down to her neck, "Skip it."
"Can't. Saving up enough for the studio above Floyd's."
That stopped him. From kissing her neck anyways. He took a step back from the situation, thinking with his other head as he buried his hand in her hair, holding her head to one side by the nape of her neck and cupping her cheek in the other. Just in the way they looked at each other, he knew then that shit had gotten serious. She hadn't told him about moving out. That was good, that meant they could have nights like last night outside the clubhouse. Even if she wasn't his old lady, there was just something about sex with Becca that he wanted far, far away from his brothers. Even though it was obvious that she wasn't free game, and after her showdown with that hang around in the parking lot he was pretty sure she had made it known that she wasn't free game, he wanted to make sure everyone knew she was off limits. Wanted to make sure no toes got stepped on and no noses got busted.
"You moving out?"
"Well duh. Why else would I want the studio above Floyd's," she told him, rolling her eyes for effect.
His face quickly shifted into something along the lines of Oh really? So in response he gave her ass a quick smack, relishing the feeling of her rocking against him at the sensation. Her eyes closed briefly and he watched her swallow. Hoping he could convince her to be late for work today. He doubted it. But he sure as hell would try. As if reading his thoughts her eyes sprung open and she frowned. His expression quickly shifted into innocent, "What? You were being a smart ass."
"Funny," she said blandly before scrambling off him, flopping down on the opposite side of the bed, and sitting up, pulling the sheet with her. He reached across and yanked it down. She yanked it back up. Slowly, teasingly, daring, he did it again. She sighed, loudly and dramatically, and let it be, "No more hiding?"
He nodded. He didn't know where this was headed. But in his soul he knew it was headed towards something serious. Specifics he didn't know but he could work with generalizations for now. Besides, he didn't want to crowd her. Becca needed space. She had already been raised in a cage. Space and self-identity was something she craved. She wasn't like his mother whose entire identity was wrapped up in the Club. She was something else entirely. She could make it in the Life. And she could make it on the outside. It was just a matter of wanting. And he hoped, damn he hoped, she wanted him. Then again that pat of himself that always screwed things up kept telling himself that things were moving way too fast for their own good. But he told that part of himself to fuck off. He deserved something good. He would keep telling himself that until he believed it.
"Well I have a feeling once I tell my parents that I'm not going back to school in the fall. And then they find out about this," she said, gesturing between herself and him, "well let's just say, I think the welcome mat is going to be a little bit worn out."
"You think they'll kick you out?"
"Oh I know they'll kick me out. They'll make me choose. And if I don't choose what they want, out the door I go."
She had been prepared for this. But it still hurt like hell. And she hoped that she was wrong. That her parents and her could build a loving, healthy, respectful relationship. Hell, she'd settle for even speaking to each other after today was over. Because today would be the day that everything changed. She knew what she was doing, she knew that she was solidifying her own independence, her unaccepted role and transition into a woman. A strong, capable woman. But her family would see it as something else entirely. It would be an abandonment of her father and mother and brothers, of everything they knew and had taught her, it would be a replacement of them for Jax. A deal with the devil. They would hate him and everything he was. She knew it. A part of her told her that she was being selfish and that maybe they would be right. That her stance of independence was just a blind illusion of the massing feelings of whatever it was she felt for Jax.
He watched her emotions play out across her face. Regret. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Desire. It was surreal. How she trusted enough not to mask her expressions. He was honored by the gestured. And that's what he told that self-destructive bit of himself. That things weren't going too fast. That he knew Becca all too well, even if it had only been a couple weeks past a month. He touched her hand, tangling his fingers with hers and offered her a genuine smile. She smiled back in return. And then she laughed. A pure unadulterated sound of joy. He loved hearing it. But then he asked the question he knew needed to be asked.
"Are you sure not going back to school is the right thing for you?"
"For me? Right now," she asked, eyebrows scrunching. She turned her head and looked at the wall. Thinking, deciding, making choices that could change her life forever. It was funny. How something so life altering could be decided in under a minute, "Right now. I think it is the best thing for me to do. I mean, I was awarded my Master's after last semester anyway. And as much as I would like to claim that I'm Wonder Woman and a bad ass. I can't do school right now. I may go back one day. But now's not the time."
"Okay angel darlin'," he shrugged and leaned over to kiss her temple, thrilled that she wasn't leaving. Not when they had started this…thing. They needed to talk again-and soon.
He was interrupted from taking that kiss on the temple further by a knock on the door. He heard his mother, telling him to send Becca out. She wanted to talk to her. At the sound of Gemma's voice, Becca scrambled out of bed and headed towards the small bathroom off to the side of the bed. Fuck, hadn't the two of them done enough talking last night? Then again Gemma had said she liked Becca. He wasn't sure how that miracle had came about. His mother didn't like too many people. Especially not outsiders. She was protective. And whatever they had talked about must've been some damn moving conversation because a couple of weeks ago she had not been Becca's biggest fan. He would ask her about it later.
He watched her come out of his bathroom, clean, tossing wet hair up haphazardly, and pulling on the shorts from last night. When she picked up her top, she dangled it from her fingertips, then held it up to examine it. She sighed. Must've busted the side seam when she ripped it from her own body last night. She heard Jax chuckle behind her and spun on her heel to see him with a cigarette in his mouth, lighting up. She rolled her eyes. And for the second time this morning, he was scolded when she told him that it was not funny.
"Relax," he said, getting out of bed fully naked, and strolling to the dresser, opening a drawer at the bottom and reaching way in the back before handing her a shirt with a scythe, the Reaper symbol, across it, "take this. It shrunk in the laundry but it'll still be pretty big for you."
Her eyes got big at the sight of the shirt he had in his hand. It was black. Simple. Cotton. But it was the gesture that had her blood pumping through her body maybe a bit too quickly. She felt a tad woozy. She looked at him, unspoken question in her eyes. If she put this top on and strode to work with it on it was going to make things a hell of a lot complicated. She was going to be one of those women everybody gossiped about because she hung with the Sons. He tilted his head but didn't answer. Not that she had expected him to. He knew exactly what he was doing by offering her this shirt, as if he didn't own any shirts that didn't have a SAMCRO symbol on it. Swallowing a lump in her throat the size of Texas, she mumbled her gratitude and took it, tugging it over her head and then tying the extra material into a knot at her waist.
"Looks good on you," he said, yanking her close for a brief, quick, but heat inducing kiss, "Get going. My mom hates tardiness."
She smiled and rolled her eyes, shaking her head when she bent over to pick up her bag. She didn't kiss him again. Didn't ask him any questions about what everything meant. Or what they were now. All she did was offer him a smile and closed the door. Damn. He was so fucking screwed. But he smiled anyway. Outside in the hallway, Gemma watched Becca close the door and walk towards her with her fingertips in the pockets of her shorts. The redhead was biting her lip and looked thoroughly flushed.
"Nice night baby girl," she purred, crossing her arms over her chest, and raising an eyebrow. But there was a sense of amused mischief in her eyes that had Becca smiling instead of blushing. Well, at least not furiously so, "That's what I thought. I suspect you and my son actually talked last night?"
"Yeah, we did," she told her, stiffening, remembering that she had promised Jax to keep what was said about Clay and the Oswald situation strictly between them. The tension didn't go unnoticed.
"You tell him I know about-."
"No, I didn't. We'll talk about that later. We still got things to sort out Gemma, I guess. He says he wants to get to know me. Not exactly sure what that means."
Well she did. He wanted her to stick around. He wanted to take whatever it was the two of them had and head it down a path that led to ink. That's what he meant. Jax never took the time to get to know a woman outside of fucking unless he had developed some time of deep emotional attachment. And she understood how he had done so. Bitch was amiable. And nice to look at, hell, very nice to look at. She could see the draw. And she saw in Becca's eyes a fierce determination not to let what had happened to her define who she was. When a woman bore that kind of determination she could take anything life had to offer her. Women like that were good for the club. They wouldn't run for the hills at the first sight of trouble. They would stick it out and make it through. And in the end they would be better for it, stronger for it. Hell, the world could do with more women like Becca.
And she could tell her son saw the same thing she had. So when he said he wanted to get to know her, what he really meant was that he was already halfway in love with her. She couldn't say the same for Becca. But she did know that this girl had helped them foil Hale to find Tristan's rapist and was literally getting ready to turn her back on her family to pursue "getting to know" Jax-if that wasn't some sort of declaration of affection she didn't know what was. And she recognized the gesture because she had done it herself. Both with John and Clay. She hadn't spoken to her parents in decades.
"Well I'd like to get to know you too. Tomorrow I'm having a barbecue at my place, around seven. Consider this a formal invitation."
"Do I need to bring something? Like a dessert or something."
Gemma's only response was to shrug her shoulders and leave her standing there in the middle of the damned clubhouse. Well, maybe that meant she'd just have to figure it out. The corner of her mouth turned upwards and she snorted, unladylike but considering where she was…At the sound of a door closing she tossed a look over her shoulder to see Jax coming out of his room, throwing his cut on. He smiled at the sight of her, walking towards her with that swagger she had grown to admire. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smirked down at her.
"I thought you were hurrying off to work?"
"Your mom invited me to a barbecue," she countered, smiling up at him, throwing her arms around his neck. She felt giddy. Like those girls she used to make fun of, who after having sex with a guy immediately became this happy, glowing being at the thought of the object of their affection-at least until the newbie sex wore off. But she had a feeling with Jax that he could make a girl feel that way each and every time, "Should I bring something?"
"Definitely," he told her, head nodding, voice getting huskier before his lips descended into a kiss. When he pulled back he looked both ways before walking her into a wall, his hands moving from her waist to her ass, slowly, and then leaned in to kiss her again, tugging at her lower lip until she relented and kissed him back. He was smiling against her mouth when he heard someone call out in a thick Scottish accent that this is why he had a dorm room. Becca pulled away first, leaning her head against his chest as she steadied her breathing. Then she turned her head to childishly stick her tongue out at Chibs. He rolled his eyes, muttering something about maturity and behaving like hormonal teenagers. That caused the couple to share a moment of laughter.
"I really have to get to work. And tell my parents I'm not going to school in the fall and that I'm moving out," she said, moving to make her way out of his embrace but he stopped her, pulled her back in front of him and cupped her face in his hands.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"I know they're not going to take it well but I don't think you can ever really fully prepare yourself for parental disappointment. But if you're really worried about my relationship with my parents, I can just beg to be absolved and call Will-."
"Don't finish that sentence angel darlin'," he warned her, pinning her to the wall with his hips, instantly erect at the idea of proving he had something no one else could compete with and that she had better stay where she was-in his bed. So he could, you know, get to know her he thought-instantly sobering himself when he saw her quirk an eyebrow at his show of possessiveness.
"You're a complicated guy Teller," she told him with a brisk kiss to the cheek and a sprint out of his arms and the door.
He stood watching her, his gaze finally being pulled off her retreating form when he heard a long, low whistle. Eyes of his brothers darted between him and the door. And it was Chibs who spoke first, approaching his VP and slinging his arm around his shoulders with a sigh before dryly informing him that he was far, far gone. The comment got the desired effect of laughter from Bobby and Tig. Ignoring the good natured ribbing he told Half-Sack to pour him a cup of coffee. And as usual it was Tig who provoked a response with the statement, "Sounded like good pussy last night brother."
"What the fuck Tig," he seethed, sputtering coffee on the counter of the bar. He shouldn't have been surprised, not from Tig at least. But he was. But there was no way he was going to answer that question. He wasn't going to talk about Becca like she was some sweet butt or croweater or something.
"I'm just saying. I mean you can't honestly be surprised somebody said something, not with the way you two were going at it last night. Who would've thought ugly little Becca Williamson had grown into such a horny hot piece of ass," he joked, half expecting what happened next. Tig watched Jax get that look on his face, what was often referred to as fierce Jax. That narrowing of his eyes and that fierce look in his gaze that told whoever the fuck it was that had pissed him off that he was about to take care of business. But surprisingly he took a step back and a deep breath, quietly instructing his brother to never talk about Becca that way again. And as if nothing serious had just been said he smiled and clapped his brother on the back of his cut, "Chibs is right man, you are far, far gone. But be careful bitch looks like she's not one to take BS."
Jax smiled. Tig was always treading the line that kept people laughing or pissed off. It was just a matter of which road he decided to take everyday. Guy was a trademark sociopath. He supposed that was why he was so damned good at his job. Shit, being the Sergeant-At-Arms was no east task. He decided not to respond to both his brother's statements about his feelings for Becca. He knew where this was headed. Give him another month and he'd be well on his way in love with her. Give him four more months and he wouldn't be surprised if she was sporting some addition to her ink. Like his mother said he had a big heart, like his father. And a woman like Becca could tug at any man's.
"Not that I blame you brother," Bobby said entering the conversation, "but if you don't want commentary-I suggest you keep your canoodling behind closed doors."
On the other side of town Becca was having that same conversation. When she had walked into the diner sporting Jax's shirt and Mary saw it, well she deduced that maybe she needed another job. One where the boss wasn't so intimately invested in their employee's personal lives. The two of them had pretty much had a Mexican stand-off at the front counter until Mary had grabbed Becca by the hand and practically dragged her to the back. And she hadn't spoken. Nope, instead she had sat in the chair behind her desk like she was considering what she was about to say next. Her hands were linked together and she was frowning. Becca sighed, waiting for the woman to speak.
When she had been growing up Mary had been like a second mother and a friend. Offering life long advice about putting up with her inexistent social life and the life that was to come. She had often told Becca that she would one day meet a man who would cause her to rethink everything she had ever thought to be so. A man who she would one day make decisions out of concern for not just her but for his well being as well. And she knew that's exactly what she had been doing lately. And she also knew that the man Mary had been envisioning was not Jackson Teller. Frustrated at the hypocrisy of it all, she still waited for her to make the first move.
"You do realize what this means don't you? That if you take this further you're going to have to choose between-."
"I think we both know they've made this choice fairly easy," she interrupted. And it was true.
The reason why Mary had been like a second mother was because her first hadn't been much of a mother at tall. Constant pressure for her to be what she was expected, what they wanted, not giving a crap really about what she wanted or who she was as a person outside of their own environment and identity. She was sure that on some level her parents really did want was best for her and wanted for her to be happy. And being around Jax made her happy. For the first time in her life, she felt comfortable just being herself. No need to hold back who she was. She could explore herself for the first time in her life. And it was liberating. Liberating in a way she never wanted to have to give back. It was a feeling she always wanted to have and the fact that it came in the damned good packaging that was Jax Teller was an added bonus.
"Why are you doing this? You haven't been back that long-you can't possibly love him. Are you willing to risk all this for a man you don't even love?"
"This isn't about love Mary. This is about me, making decisions for myself. About being happy. And right now he makes me happy. And I'm not going to throw it away just because you don't or somebody else doesn't approve," she said, feeling her temper rise as she stood up and paced the small office space. It took her a moment to calm, taking soothing deep breaths, "Look Mary. I love you, I do. But this isn't about you. I'm not choosing anybody over anyone. I trust him. I trust him to be honest with me. To treat me like an adult instead of a child. To respect my decisions-even the ones he thinks are bad. He's loyal and he's smart and strong and good and he's got this way about him that commands respect for him as a person, not as a Son, but just as a man. And when he smiles at me I can't help but think that it's what I've been waiting for my whole life to feel. So that's what I'm choosing. And if you don't like it, don't watch."
When she turned around from the window to look at Mary, she saw the older woman's teary eyed gaze, hand hovering over her mouth in disbelief-like she had just seen a ghost. Becca swallowed. She hadn't meant to say all that but her temper had ran away with her, causing herself to spout things she wasn't sure of herself until she said it. Pushing hair out of her face, she plopped down in the seat across from the desk, only to have Mary still staring at her. Exasperated, she asked her what the problem was.
"I was wrong. You're in love with him."
Mary hadn't expected her to spew everything she felt for the Son. In fact she hadn't expected Becca to feel anything more than the curious fascination that most young women had for an attractive man with a back story and a bit of trouble in his life. But when she spoke of all the qualities that endured her to him, she knew then that her other daughter had gone and done something so stupid as to fall in love with the handsome outlaw biker. And knowing Becca as she did, she wasn't going to let go of that. And she wished she had known that before calling Ellen earlier, after getting off the phone with Becca, and saying the fiery tempered waitress was going to be at work in half an hour if she wanted to come by and have a talk with her adult daughter in her small office. Speaking of the devil, the door flew open.
Ellen was standing there in a pair of cropped pants, loafers, and a floral printed top. She looked like she hadn't slept last night, worried, and panicked. And when she laid eyes on Becca, Mary knew she was about to lay into Becca. She looked over her daughter, as if to visually make sure she was okay. Her eyes widening at the sight of the reaper t-shirt she was wearing. Everyone knew what that meant. Reaper. Reaper crew. SAMCRO. It didn't take long for her to figure out where her daughter had been all night. At seeing the face her mother wore, Becca leaned down, her forehead in her palm with a heavy sigh.
"What is going on may I ask," the question came out as a harsh yell. But even in her temper, Ellen didn't forget to close and lock the door. Even in her worry and anger she didn't want the news getting out to the diner's patrons. Mary stood, attempting to placate the furious preacher's wife with level headed statement like "let's calm down before we say anything we regret", statements that got her nowhere.
"Is that where you were last night? With him? Jesus, what has gotten into you Becca? This isn't you! I'm not going to let you do this!"
"Let me? Are you fucking serious? What exactly aren't you going to let me do?"
Mary watched the situation slowly deteriorate. And she saw then what Becca meant, about Jax being the only one to treat her like an adult. She could see also where she had failed at the task of remembering that she was a grown woman and not that skinny sad thing of a sixteen-year-old girl. And she was capable of making decisions. Had they really drove her to this?
"Do you hate us so much, hate us so that you're determined to embarrass us by acting like a biker slut," Ellen asked in a spiteful tone. And there it was, something that was out and couldn't be taken back. But by the look on her friend's face, Mary wasn't so sure if the woman had any intention of ever taking it back. She was convinced that she really meant it. But she had taken it too far. She was far from a biker slut. She was just a woman who loved a man of questionable means-she certainly wasn't the first and she certainly wouldn't be the last.
"Ellen-that's enough! Becca's your daughter-."
"No she's not. This isn't who I raised," she spat out, quickly she turned back to address the younger woman in the room, "If you choose this. You cannot stay under my roof and behave like this. Associating with criminals, not coming in at night, spreading your legs-."
"That's fine by me. I've already talked to Floyd about the studio above his shop."
She had told Jax that she had prepared herself for the worst. But she hadn't expected it to be this bad. Being called a common whore was something she hadn't seen coming. And the insult hurt like hell. As much as she knew it to be false, it still bothered her that it was the way her mother felt adequately described her. She was going to have to cry later. When she was alone.
XXXXXXXREAPERXXXXXXX
She was so happy she was about to pee her pants. It hadn't taken long for the news to spread. Pastor Williamson and his wife had kicked Becca out of the house after finding out about her whole love affair with pretty boy Jax Teller. And she hadn't stopped smiling since she heard it. She wasn't sure what it was about Becca that irked her but whatever it was, it compelled the nastiest of her being to the surface that could bring a chill factor down anyone's spine. Her mother had called her downright mean. Her husband on more than one occasion had told her she was teetering on the brink of insanity. She smiled at the remembered fight. Just then the phone rang.
"Hello Davidson residence," she hummed, spring like voice sounding inviting.
"Yes this is Jacob Marin may I speak to Eric Davidson please?"
"He's not home right now. I'm his wife Kelly, may I take a message?"
"Um…sure. I was calling because I heard about the history teacher position at Charming High School."
She rolled her eyes as he spouted off his number. More work stuff. Her husband sat on City Council as the Education Director. People were constantly calling about some new state law or council meeting or teacher issue. She swore he spent more time at the city council office and Charming High School than he did home. It was one of the things that had her seeking attention elsewhere. One of the many things.
"I will tell him you called-."
"Before you go I was wondering if you knew Rebecca Williamson?"
"Yes," she said, suddenly interested, toes curling at the thrill running through her body as he explained. He was her professor back in San Diego. He saw that she hadn't registered for classes for the fall semester. He wanted her number so he could talk and catch up with her. And she smiled. Now that she knew what was keeping Becca in Charming she wanted to know what the hell had driven her to leave San Diego in the first place.