"In Stockton, you say? For how long?"
August Marks found that in addition to having Gemma Teller at his disposal, the task of gathering intelligence on SAMCRO's plans was further aided by the presence of a convenient informant. A rat, they called this sort. But to August Marks, a rat was in many ways perhaps the most useful tool of them all.
"The Ortiz family has been very busy indeed lately," Marks chuckled into the phone. "Thank you. You may go."
He hung up the phone and found Gemma sitting quietly in a chair in the room, staring at him, with Jarry standing like a guard dog in front of the door, as though after this long, she still thought the former SAMCRO matriarch would try to make a break for it. Marks let the sheriff be - in order to remain useful, she had to at least carry on a charade of actually being useful.
"You're not going after them, are you?" Gemma asked.
"Do I have a reason to?"
"No," Gemma replied quickly, her expression stiffening - there was a part of her, whether she had the right or not, that felt a strange sort of protectiveness over the young woman she had spent so much time with. Perhaps it wasn't love, perhaps it was practically a sense of ownership, the idea that Denise was hers just like Jax and the boys were hers. But whatever Gemma had done, she didn't want the girl to fall into Marks's hands. "She won't get in your way. She just wants - to get away from all of this with her family. Juice too," Gemma said. At this, Jarry let out a slightly derisive snort, which Gemma by now had learned to ignore.
"I thought as much," Marks said, straightening his tie and stalking ominously towards Gemma with a smirk on his face. "I won't lie - getting my hands on the Kwan money would be a boon, no doubt. But so long as she doesn't cast her lot in with Jackson, she's not my concern. I won't go out of my way for that little cunt."
"Deedee won't throw that money around for the club," Gemma insisted - she had to remind herself inwardly that she had no reason to feel anger on Denise's behalf. How could she fault Marks for calling her even something that foul, when she herself had made an attempt on the girl's life? "Even if I tried to make her, she won't."
"We'll see, then," Marks said, smirking even more widely before looking up and nodding for Jarry to open the door to allow him to exit. Gemma, however, got to her feet as Marks was starting to walk away and spoke up.
"Who's the rat?" she asked. "Is it someone in the club?"
August Marks paused, turning back and stalking back over so he practically hovered over Gemma, staring at her with fierce intensity before finally shooting her a cold, eerie grin. "A man has to have his secrets," he supplied before walking away with Jarry shutting the door behind him. Gemma seethed with disappointment in not knowing what was happening in the club, and she sneered as she sat back down before locking eyes with Jarry, who was making her way back to the kitchen area of the suite.
"Alone again, Sheriff," Gemma smirked snidely, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs, slightly swinging one foot nonchalantly. "You sure you don't wanna play a game of cards? Do each others nails?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"Raincheck then, sweetheart."
"I can't believe this is her!" Melissa said, holding baby Sofia in her arms while Denise seemed to be enjoying a glass of champagne more than she'd ever enjoyed champagne before - she was never the type, but this was her first drink of alcohol since she'd gotten off of the pain medicines for her physical therapy, and damned if she wasn't going to enjoy it. "I can't believe you're a mom now! But - you two," Melissa smirked, looking back and forth between Denise and Juice, who seemed pretty cozy on the couch, having been invited over for New Year's Eve. "I told you he was gonna be good for you."
"Yeah, you did," Denise laughed tinnily, her eyes squinting with mirth.
"I just can't believe how crazy your life has been," the blonde woman spoke up honestly. "I mean, I probably don't know the first thing about it. But - all these gangs and guns and you almost dying. Man," she said, shaking her head incredulously while still bouncing Sofia. "But I guess you've always been tough like that. How are you feeling lately?"
"Better. Just stopped taking those pain pills, legs stopped spasming and giving out finally," Denise said with a sigh of relief. "But still lots of headaches. Lots of them," she emphasized with a grimace. Juie looked at her with a slight frown - she never said anything about headaches or spasms. There were some days she stayed in bed a little longer than usual, but she never complained about a thing. Juice felt his stomach sink slightly, feeling that perhaps he should have picked up on it, perhaps he should have done better.
He'd been feeling that way a lot lately, and he hated it.
It was still early in the evening, and while Juice was very much relieved that poor Harvey had to work tonight and couldn't be home for the celebration, it also meant that he was stuck for hours listening to girls talk - and talking to other women was something which Denise had indeed improved at immensely, owed in no small part to Lyla and, to a lesser extent, Wendy.
"Oh, God," Denise laughed, covering her eyes as Melissa brought out her laptop and began clicking through a folder of old photos, some of which were from what felt like a lifetime ago, when Juice and Denise had first become a thing, and even during study sessions at Denise's house, could barely be pried off of one another.
"You two were so adorable," Melissa laughed, tapping her finger on the screen to draw their attention to a photo of Denise wearing one of Juice's hoodies, and the cotton shorts he seemed to favor so much, sitting curled on his lap on the sofa while reading from her physics textbook. "Look at that."
Juice couldn't help but laugh, bouncing his daughter on his lap and cooing to her to look at the picture of mommy and daddy - admittedly, he missed those times back at the house when they had it all to themselves, before Denise had come to Charming and become Aunt Deedee, or mami, or anything else but his Denise. His Dee. Now, he suddenly felt very excited for the ball to drop, and to be able to go home and have time with his wife and daughter - no SAMCRO. No Jax. Just his two most beloved people at the start of the new year.
"Hey - Denise, do you think you could help me pull the quiches out of the oven?" Melissa spoke up suddenly. The two women's eyes met in a way that only happens when two people were about to talk about something they didn't want heard, and Juice, as distracted as he was by the photo and by his daughter, didn't miss the glance as the two women got up to talk in the kitchen. He knew what this was about, of course. It was the whole reason they had come out to Stockton in the first place. But it didn't mean he had to like it.
Melissa waited until they were well into the kitchen, away from the living room, before she rounded on Denise and was only a few steps in front of her before speaking up in a quiet voice.
"So what can I do to help you?" Melissa asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "Denise, this is huge - and honestly, I'd love to do a story on it, it could be amazing. A bunch of underdogs taking on corporate America - people eat that stuff up," she said with a shrug. "But if this Marks guy is as dangerous as you say he is -"
"I know," Denise interrupted with a nod. "I know I'm getting myself into a lot of trouble with this. And I know Juice hates it," she admitted. "We're just - I mean, not we." Denise's eyes widened slightly at the slight slip. "Jax and the club, they need this. They're running out of other options," Denise corrected. "We need - you know, cameras. Video. I can take photos, but I need to make sure they get seen."
"And I can do that. All you have to do is say the word," Melissa nodded. "But - look, I know you and me, we never see each other anymore. We talk maybe once a month on the phone and we disappear out of each other's lives again. But I'm worried about you. All this stuff, it's dangerous. And if your husband isn't good with it -"
"He understands, though," Denise insisted. "Juice gets it. He's in the club, he knows that sometimes it just... it takes over. It brings people into your life that complicate everything. You just need to handle your business," Denise finished, crossing her arms over herself. Melissa sighed a bit and gave her friend a sad smile.
"Anything I can do to help out," she nodded. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
"Five!"
"You gotta make a wish, baby!" Denise said to Juice with a broad grin while she held Sofia tightly. Her face was flushed brightly from having polished off a second glass of champagne.
"Four!"
"Alright, alright!" Juice laughed. "I wish for -"
"You can't tell us what your wish is, or it won't come true!" Melissa interrupted.
"Three! Two! One!"
"Happy New Year!"
Just before the stroke of midnight, Melissa had scooped baby Sofia out of her mother's arms so she could place a swift peck on the small girl's forehead right as the clock struck twelve and the television set glowed with the sight of the ball dropping in New York.
As Juice grabbed a gentle hold of his wife's wrist and tugged her over to kiss her as the ball dropped too, he realized that he knew exactly what his wish was - he wanted to have her and baby Sofia to himself one day. No more club business, no more being dragged through quicksand trying to solve problems that weren't theirs.
"One day, I'll take you and baby Fifi back to New York," he spoke up with a smile, his eyes plactically glowing as he stared at the sight of the happy, albeit chilly crowd in Times Square on the TV. "We'll watch the ball drop for real."
"I... I'd like that," Denise said with a lopsided grin. And at this, Juice couldn't help but smile like a complete idiot. She'd like that. She'd like to get halfway across the world from Charming and ring in a New Year thousands of miles away from all of this. It was going to happen eventually. He'd get it. He knew he had to.
After the festivities had wrapped up and Sofia was pretty much out cold, the small Ortiz family had said goodbye to Melissa and started on their way back home, with Juice driving them back up the familiar streets of Stockton as though they had never left. Maybe, he pondered, it wouldn't be entirely too bad just going completely legit, having a calm, quiet life. He'd drop Sofia off at ballet - or soccer, or football, or karate, because his little girl wasn't going to have her hobbies dictated by gender norms, he decided - in a dinky Honda minivan, he'd talk to other dads at school about how his Odyssey had decent pickup for a family vehicle. He'd grow his hair out over his tattoos and no one would know that he was Juice. He'd go by Juan Carlos, and no one would be any the wiser.
He reached out with one hand to give Denise's hand a squeeze while she sat sleepily in the passenger seat of the car, and she gave a small yawn, opening her eyes to look at him. Grinning but not taking his eyes off of the road, Juice raised her hand closer to his lips and brushed a kis across the back of her knuckles.
"Happy New Year, baby," he smiled gently.
They finally pulled in front of the house, and Denise hurried out first while fidgeting around in her pockets to grab her keys to open the door - but she quickly realized that it was already unlocked. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and because Juice had seen her freeze in place, he stopped in the middle of removing their sleeping daughter from her carseat. His expression hardened, and he nodded for Denise to come back and stay by the car with the baby, while he reached under the driver's seat, where he'd hidden his gun. Denise hurried back to pick up Sofia from the carseat and hold her protectively, while Juice stalked towards the unlocked door, his gun raised. He reached out to turn the doorknob, gently kicking the door open with the tip of his shoe so it gave a slow creak.
"Who's there?" he barked into the doorway, now aiming his gun forward, steading with both hands. If someone thought they were going to come in here and threaten hiss family, break into their home, they had another thing coming - a few things, all of which were loaded into the barrel of his gun. "Come out where I can see you, motherf-"
But Juice froze midsentence when the living room light came on, and he immediately caught sight of the figure standing there inside, staring right at him...
A/N's
And - you get to find out who's in the living room and what their intentions are in 2015! I'll take any guesses you have as to who's there and why.
Anyway, I'm glad that you're all still here, reading and reviewing! The holidays, as I've been saying, have been a very hectic time, so my updates have been much slower, but I'm glad that you all are still so patient with me and give me such amazing, useful feedback. I love hearing from all of you! And of course, I hope you all have a happy, safe new year! Until next time and next year, cheers!