Author's note: Hopefully the way I've set this up with the letters and the scenes makes sense. They operate on different timelines that will change over time. I.e. the letter is currently present and the scene is in the past, but later it will be the letter is in the "past" and the scene is happening post-letter being written. I think it'll make sense in the grand scheme of things.

Enjoy Happy being Happy!

Chapter 2.

Isabel,

Sorry it took me so long to respond. I don't really write letters, except an occasional one to my ma so she doesn't worry. I'm not very good with words.

Don't sweat me being in here. It's not my first time behind bars, won't be my last. I would have done something to put myself here eventually anyway. At least this was for a good cause.

I'm glad I was there that night. I'm not a good guy, but my ma raised me right when it comes to women. You didn't deserve what happened. Assholes need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

You've already repaid me by speaking at my hearing. The lawyer said it all worked out 'cause of you. I appreciate you doing that for me when you didn't have to.

I'll do my best to stay out of trouble and get released early. Easier said than done sometimes. My club isn't well-liked, so some punks get it in their head to pick fights while I'm in here on my own.

Hope you're doing okay, didn't get the chance to ask that night.

- Happy

It was just after one in the morning when Happy pulled his bike into his usual gas station somewhere in the deserted wasteland between Stockton and Charming. He was exhausted, the better part of the day spent chasing down bangers and ending with him babysitting the gun warehouse in Stockton until the prospects could be spared. Now all he wanted was a hot shower and his own bed until duty called again in the morning.

Happy walked into the store, the door creaking as he pushed it open. Grabbing the wallet from his back pocket, he stopped at the front counter, cash in hand, and frowned when he saw it unmanned. He huffed in annoyance and turned on his heel to look around the small store for an employee to help him. This was so not the night for poor customer service.

His height allowed him to see a group huddled in the corner, their voices muffled through the rows of snacks and basic necessities on display. The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he took measured steps over to the last aisle, knowing immediately that something was off. He turned the corner and was met by the sight of three men crowding around the young store clerk that he'd seen on this shift a handful of times before. The men were clearly intoxicated, their words slurred and movements sloppy as they continued to harass the dark-haired woman. She stood next to an open box of chips, and he assumed she had been stocking the shelves when the men had stumbled in.

While he was known throughout the club as the violent enforcer with no remorse, his mother had raised him to respect women that deserved it. This store clerk always greeted him with a kind smile, despite his appearance and demeanor screaming danger. She wouldn't have done anything to warrant the grabby hands and crude comments she was receiving.

That, and a little fight before heading home would put him right to sleep.

Happy whistled sharply, gaining the attention of the group as he stopped at the opposite end of the aisle. "Can I get twenty on pump four?" He asked, his voice pitched low as he stared at the clerk and ignored her assailants. She looked back at him wide-eyed, and he didn't miss the relief that flooded her eyes at his arrival.

The woman nodded obediently and tried to remove her arm from the grasp one of the men had on her. He didn't release her but did turn his body towards the intruder with a glare. "Yo, wait your turn, asshole. Can't you see we're busy getting serviced?"

Happy adjusted his kutte over the black hoodie he wore, making sure the patches were clear to all as he straightened his shoulders. "You're done getting serviced. Time to go."

Scoffing, the man was clearly too drunk to realize what he was getting himself into. "Who the fuck are you to tell me I'm done? Either join in or get out."

"Who the fuck am I?" Happy asked lowly as he moved a little closer. "I'm happy to show you."

The blonde of the group took a step forward, now distracted from the original game of sexual harassment. He was the largest of the trio, but the way his eyes seemed to zone in and out told Happy he wouldn't be much of a challenge. "Bro, are you stupid?" the perp said, cracking his knuckles for show. "There are three of us and one of you."

Happy shrugged nonchalantly, a dark smirk forming on his face. "I'm good with those odds if you are."

The door creaked open again, and Happy looked over his shoulder to see another patron enter the store and immediately pause. The man's eyes flickered from the biker to the group in the corner and then back to the biker, his brows flying up in surprise.

"Out!" Happy barked, his glare leaving no room for argument. The bystander was quick to comply and bolted out the door, leaving Happy to direct his attention back to the idiots in front of him. "So, what's it gonna be?" he asked, eyes dark as he waited to see if they would make a move.

The blonde didn't disappoint and flew towards him with a yell, taking a swing as soon as he got close enough. Happy dodged easily, using the man's own momentum to throw him down the aisle and onto the floor with a thud. Glancing over his shoulder back at the other two, he noticed they were less inclined to enter the fray.

That didn't matter. Their fates were already sealed.

Happy stomped towards them, watching the first man quickly release the clerk and try to prepare himself as the smallest guy backed away. With minimal effort, Happy had the mouthy one pinned by the shirt against the door of the beverage refrigerator. He looked down at the terrified woman and jerked his chin to the side, relieved when she had safely removed herself from the situation.

Throwing a quick punch to the face of the guy pinned under his arm, Happy had just enough time to release him and step back as the blonde came charging back into the fight. The biker was on him with a quick set of jabs, then landed a particularly nasty uppercut that had the man stumbling into the chip display. The snacks scattered as he landed on the shelving and brought pieces of it to the floor with him as he fell.

Happy felt someone jump on his back, arms wrapped tightly around his throat. After the initial shock of a grown man pulling a bitch move like that, Happy turned and rammed his back up against the glass door of the fridge a few times. It finally shattered under the pressure and the man let go as bottles of soda rained down on him from the shelves above.

The original shit-talker was now back on his feet, his brown hair a mess as blood dripped from his nose. He warily eyed his two downed companions, not feeling so tough now that he was effectively going one-on-one with the biker.

"You don't get to tap out, fucker," Happy said with a sinister expression as he stared down the young man.

His opponent's face hardened, the alcoholic haze seeming to clear from his gaze a bit. He came up swinging his fists madly, making Happy dodge back and nearly stumble over the blonde on the floor. As a particularly hard right hook whizzed past his face, Happy grabbed the man's shoulder and swung him around. He wrapped an arm around the man's neck, tightening his grip quickly as his captive began to struggle.

As the air finished leaving the man and his attempts to free himself subsided, Happy let him drop to the floor with a thud.

That was fun, he thought as he visually confirmed that all three assailants were unconscious.

Sirens began to ring out in the distance as blue and red lights bounced off of the nearby buildings in the dark. Happy looked to the parking lot and spotted the earlier bystander standing near his truck at the pump, cell phone to his ear as he continued to relay to the dispatcher what he was seeing.

"Ah, shit," Happy muttered to himself with a sigh, taking in the damage around him. There was no time for him to make an escape, and the cops weren't likely to take his side of the story with the leather on his back. Resigned to his fate as two San Joaquin County patrol cars pulled into the lot, his eyes found the dark-haired clerk peeking over the front counter to watch the scene unfold.

At least his good deed had been a success.

She crept out from behind the counter and moved towards him, eyes glued to her unconscious assailants on the floor. "Woah," the young woman muttered with an expression somewhere between shock and awe.

Her shiny employee nametag caught his attention: Isabel.

He wondered how he'd never noticed it before, in all his visits to the rundown gas station on his way home from Stockton. She would chat his ear off while ringing up his pack of smokes as he stood silent. It never seemed to bother her that he only responded with a grunt.

Four police officers barged in the door, weapons drawn.

"Hands up! Don't move!" one of the officers shouted as several guns were pointed in Happy's direction.

"No! Not him," Isabel said, taking a few steps to the right to place herself between Happy and the sheriffs. She pointed to the trio groaning on the floor. "Those assholes attacked me. This guy just came to my rescue."

The officers looked at each other skeptically, but after a survey of the scene, they lowered their weapons.

"Looking good, Lowman," one of the officers said as he approached the biker with a smirk. "Property damage, assault. Turn around, hands against the wall so I can search you."

"He didn't do anything!" Isabel continued to argue, trying to shrug off the female officer that moved to comfort her.

Happy huffed but did as he was told, not wanting to make the situation worse. The pat-down revealed the knife strapped to his belt, but nothing else of consequence. He knew they'd search his bike, though, and find the unregistered nine millimeter. That'd be enough to put him back behind bars for a while.

This was the last time he would play Big Damn Hero for some damsel.