Hiiii so just a few notes before you read! This is my first fic (or any creative writing at all) EVER so please be kind, I am NOT a writer and am sensitive little baby😩 I'm aware that this entire plot is VERY unrealistic in the canon SOA universe but I have tried to write this story in a way where it ends up making sense if you give it a chance. I am also aware of how that sort of thing bothers people and I completely understand if this is not your cup of tea. This is just my fun little fantasy that I originally had written solely for my own enjoyment and not for the purposes of sharing, but I am posting after several requests from friends and fellow SOA writers, so please keep that in mind. I have changed certain events, timelines, come up with character backstory, etc. to fit my narrative, that's the fun thing about fanfic! If you have seen the show, you will be able to follow along and decipher what is canon/taken directly from the show, and what I have made up. I find it canon enough that you get the SOA nostalgia, but AU enough that it is fun and exciting. In doing this, I mean no offense to SOA, SOA fans, or our lord and savior: Kurt Sutter.

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General trigger warnings for this story: Language, smut, mentions of rape, abuse, drug use/overdose, violence/death.

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO CHARMING

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Sydney Harding rolled into the Teller-Morrow Auto Repair lot just after lunch on a nice, warm Thursday at the end of May. She turned down 'California Dreamin' from where it played over the radio, the engine of her Dodge Challenger growling low as she scoped out the homebase for SAMCRO.

She had arrived in Charming a few days prior and was set to meet with the Northern Cali charter's President: Clay Morrow - a founding member. After years of pining, she was finally sent to the little old town of Charming by her Godfather, Les Packer - President of the San Bernardino charter. Her own father had been the former Vice President of SAMDINO, renouncing his title to raise her when her mother had overdosed sixteen years ago. He had always told her that she would be the secret weapon of the SOA after he was done with her, and that he was right.

SAMDINO had never been mixed up in enough to need the knowledge and skill set that Sydney possessed, so Packer sent her off to live her dream after the dust from her dad's recent death had settled. Her dream? To become the first female patch in SOA history - not exactly the dream of most young women, but it had been hers for as long as she could remember.

Sydney parked her car and before she could even reach the door handle, she was approached by a young little thing; shy, strawberry blonde, about her age - undoubtedly a prospect. "Hi there, can I uh, can I help you-" Her hearing faded as a mechanic working in the garage on the other side of the lot caught her eye, and by the way looks of it - she'd definitely caught his. He was tall - probably in his forties - with dark, wild curls atop his head and testosterone that oozed from every cell in his body. He was rugged and mean looking with his strong jaw and muscly forearms - the type of man that many people wouldn't like to be alone in the woods, but that the ladies would undoubtedly love. As he got closer she was taken aback by his electric blue eyes - undoubtedly the most beautiful pair of eyes that she'd ever laid hers on.

She attempted to turn her attention back to the prospect as she got out of the car, removing her mirrored aviators as he rambled about getting her in for an oil change when the dark haired man finally approached. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up underneath his mechanic's shirt, dark jeans, and a silver chain around his neck. She noticed the stitching on the lapel of his uniform that read: 'Tig'. Weird name, she thought - undoubtedly a moniker - but it suited him somehow.

Sydney's attraction to older men wasn't exactly a new thing - growing up around bikers, the boys her age always seemed too immature, pretty, or weak. She tried to keep her composure under his hard stare, pretending to be deeply engaged in what the prospect was saying - nodding and squinting as he stuttered nervously.

"Sack, beat it." The man said gruffly, gesturing to the garage with a thumb - sending the prospect taking off without a second thought. His voice was like whiskey: smokey, smooth, and sending shivers down her spine. "Hi there darlin, what can I do ya for?" He struggled to keep his eyes from falling to the impressive cleavage that was protruding from the tight grey tanktop that she was wearing, and the eye-catching old-fashioned queen's crown that she had tattooed on the top of her left breast was definitely not helping.

Sydney could tell that he was taking her in by the way he seemed to stare blankly into her eyes like a lost puppy. She was used to men ogling at her, but what she wasn't used to was the urge to ogle back...

"You could do me for a few things." She smirked suggestively, nodding approvingly after giving him a sly once-over, chewing on the arm of her sunglasses and swaying her body slightly. "Your President around?" She asked nonchalantly, glancing at the row of Harleys lined up in the middle of the lot between the clubhouse and the garage.

"You got an appointment?" He challenged with squinted eyes, cocking his head slightly.

Sydney knew immediately that he had to be of higher ranking in the club - either left or right hand by the way that his eye twitched when she mentioned his President. "Sure do." She replied cockily as she started to turn away from him with a playful smile, sliding her gold necklace along its chain. "Darlin." She looked back with a wink, cocking her eyebrows before starting her path to the clubhouse.

Once the reason for gracing him with her presence came to light, Tig assumed that she must just be a croweater trying to get in good with the club, but something about her was different... She didn't look like the trashy crows that flocked to him - and she didn't seem to act like them either. He watched her hips sway back and forth while she walked across the lot - which she emphasized a little of course, knowing he was watching. The view from the back was just as good as the view from the front, he couldn't help but groan slightly as he admired her hourglass figure and perfectly round ass in those tight black jeans, noting the juicy pair of thighs that he wouldn't mind sitting his face tightly between. He continued skimming down her long legs, the red soles of her black stilettos catching his eye as they clacked against the pavement. Tig Trager was no Wolf of Wall Street - that's for sure - but he had seen a fair share of cheap hooker heels in his day to know that these were not the shoes of a some penny whore looking to suck dick for a club that likely wouldn't give her a second thought.

He jogged across the lot before she could reach the door to the clubhouse, slipping past her as he stopped her in her tracks. "I'll let him know you're here." He said, blocking the door slightly as he leant against it, a bent arm propped against the frame. "What's your name, beautiful?" He tipped his chin towards her, noticing her eyes now as well: big, bright, and green. Not a normal green though - a forest green - the kind that looked almost yellow in the sun and black in the shade. They weren't a shocking blue like his, but they still managed to be the most striking pair he'd ever come across.

Sydney was a bit surprised by the out of character way that she reacted to him - flinching when he blocked her path. She was never this jumpy when meeting new people, but she quickly shook the thought out of her head - chalking it up to excitement over the new endeavour. "Sydney." She drew out sweetly, holding eye contact as she brushed past him, flooding his nostrils with her sweet perfume. "So, do you wipe his ass too?" She asked, turning around to face him as she crossed the threshold, her lips curling into a devious smile with one arm of her aviators in the corner of her mouth as his eyes widened in shock and a man sitting at the bar with deep scars across his face spit out his beer in laughter.

Tig stood frozen as she looked directly into his eyes, placing one hand on her hip and raising her eyebrows as she waited for an answer. All he could do was nod his head in defeat, grimacing with his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he sauntered off.

Sydney's smile widened once he was out of sight, taking the opportunity to scan the clubhouse quickly and gain her bearings. To the left of the large open room-turned-bar there was a pool table, a large stereo, a few couches, and a dart board. To the right was the bar itself - extending along the entire length of the wall until it reached the hallway where she assumed the dorm rooms and amenities were located. In front of the bar were some tables and a stripper pole, and straight ahead were the double doors of the chapel with the infamous wall of framed mugshots next to them, just like the one in the clubhouse back home - but it hadn't been nearly as extensive as the one before her.

"Aye Lass, that was great. He's usually the one throwing the jabs, nice to see him take some." The scarred man said in a thick scottish accent, winking as she chuckled along with him. "So... Sydney, what're you doin here at our fine clubhouse?"

"A girl can't come to a bar for a drink?" Sydney challenged playfully with a slight squint and tilt of her head. He was about to say something when the double doors at the back of the room opened with a loud creak, revealing a large man standing behind them: tall, broad, white hair - she immediately noticed the 'President' flash on his kutte... This was Clay Morrow.

"Sydney." He called huskily with a nod of his head toward the chapel.

Sydney shot the Scottish man a devilish smile as a scowl creeped across his face, turning and walking towards the chapel. As soon as the doors closed behind her, Tig emerged from the hall where he joined the two men, taking the seat closest to the chapel beside them at the bar.

"What d'ya think she's talkin to Clay about?" Bobby asked.

"Probably just some gash looking for a favor she can do for the club." Chibs responded with a snort as Bobby raised his eyebrows and looked towards the doors.

"Nah brother, that's no crow." Tig stated distantly as he took a swig of his beer, eyes glued to the chapel doors, and mind glued on her.

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Clay closed the doors behind Sydney and pulled out a chair for her at the oblong shaped table that had the infamous reaper carved into it. "Sit down." He ordered as he took his own seat at the head of the table.

Tig's voice may have sent shivers down Sydney's spine, but Clay's sent a chill right through her veins. It was gravelly and much deeper than any man's voice that she had ever heard before - it was the kind that carried, the kind that bellowed, the kind that you wouldn't want to be threatened by. She knew that he had invited her to sit at the table as a test - prospects weren't even allowed at the table before they got a full patch. She remained standing, she knew and respected the reaper.

Clay smirked in approval and lit a cigar. "I hear you can be of service to me." He looked at her expectantly.

"I guess if that's what you heard, then it must be true." She snarked. Like most mean old men with scarily deep voices, he was short and to the point - if you didn't have anything to offer him, you were a waste of his precious time.

"I guess so." He chuckled to himself. He hadn't expected her sass, but he supposed that he hadn't exactly known what to expect at all from the unprecedented situation. He wasn't stupid - he knew not to underestimate Sydney if she had Packer's stamp of approval. But he couldn't help himself from wondering what exactly it was that she had to offer that made the San Bernardino President so insistent that she was the missing piece that the mother charter needed. Other than the way that she carried herself - walking fearlessly with confidence - she could easily be any other crow that walked in and out of here after swallowing a few loads; young, bleach blonde, big tits, and a nice ass. Regardless, as proven by his own curiosity - he knew that the element of surprise was on his side, and that was just what he was after.

Luckily for Sydney, Packer had done most of the talking with Clay already - so she didn't have to explain that she was no pushover, and that she was most definitely no sweetbutt. "This place will become your home, these people will become your family." He explained, pausing when he remembered why she had been sent to him - sighing sympathetically. "I'm sorry about your old man. James... He was a good guy." He nodded as he recounted the many times that he and her father had crossed paths before his untimely death.

"Thank you." Sydney nodded stiffly as she clenched her jaw.

"You can work here at the bar and help my wife out in the office. When I need you, you're expected to be here - just like my guys."

"Yes sir." She nodded, noting that he wouldn't look directly at her when he spoke - giving her a rush of empowerment that she so desperately needed after having her nerves so unexpectedly rattled.

"Packer said you got a place off Main Street. Won't be needing a dorm?"

Sydney nodded, smiling as she thought about the perfect house that she'd scored just around the corner from what had become her new favourite coffee shop.

"Good." Clay nodded. "You can start your work here tomorrow morning - 11:00A.M."

"Sounds good." Sydney said flatly, like her other responses before she turned towards the doors. She was excited, but she had learned over the years to keep her composure around men that she didn't know; being taught that sex sells, but business prevails.

"Oh, and uh-" She turned back around to see the President looking at her for the first time since she came in. "Give my guys hell will ya?" His eyebrows raised, revealing blue eyes in the deep hollows of his face as a playful grin came to his lips.

"Oh you have no idea." She cocked her brows, smirking devilishly over her shoulder.

Once Sydney opened the door to the chapel, the smell of cigarettes and whiskey flooded her nostrils. She inhaled the comforting scent deeply as she scanned her new stomping grounds - spotting Tig staring at her from the bar where he was accompanied by the same two men from earlier. They turned away quickly - trying to look occupied with a conversation, but she knew exactly what conversation they were having. She glanced down as she chuckled to herself before walking towards the exit, side-eyeing them as she slowed her pace.

"Gentlemen." She nodded, smiling smugly as she continued to the exit.

Chibs and Bobby scowled as Tig's eyes stayed locked on her the entire time, stalking over to the door and peering out the blinds the second that it had closed behind her. Hate to see her go... He chuckled to himself.

Something about the curly haired man lingered with Sydney as she got into her car and shook her head, trying to straighten herself out. She started the engine and rolled down the window as her cheeks flushed, knowing the heat she was feeling had nothing to do with the temperature in the vehicle. She took a deep breath and slid her sunglasses back on, flipping her long curls over her shoulder before putting her car in reverse - the sound of the rumbling engine serving to calm her nerves as she drove to her new home.

Over the short drive, Sydney thought about all of the new faces that she would soon be seeing everyday. She hadn't been introduced to many members outside of the San Bernardino charter - per her dad's request - and until this moment, she had never fully realized why. But as she drove through the new town, she found herself seeing the big picture of what he'd had in store throughout her entire life.

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Sydney got to TM the next morning at 10:48 A.M.. Just as she was putting her car in park, a woman with dark hair and blonde highlights pulled into the spot next to her in a shiny black Cadillac XLR. She immediately knew that this was Clay's wife: Gemma Teller-Morrow. The woman was infamous among the charters, known as the SAMCRO queen - the old lady that every sweetbutt aspired to be: a tough bitch, a major MILF, and someone you would not want to cross. Her reputation definitely did not precede her. Gemma was the sexiest middle-aged woman that Sydney had ever seen with her fancy car, high cheekbones, and perfect body dressed in black leather.

Gemma quickly recognized the young girl in the old car as the one that she had been told about. "You must be Sydney." She stated as she approached the open window, leaning down to introduce herself with a cigarette in her hand.

"How'd you guess?" The bubbly blonde replied in a playful tone.

"Chibs told me about that rack of yours." Gemma pursed her lips and looked at the cleavage busting out of the criss-cross scoop neck of the black fitted shirt that Sydney was wearing. "Hard to miss." She raised her eyebrows as she met her eyes again.

A bashful smile tugged at Sydney's lips as Gemma smirked and shook her hand. She had a feeling that they were going to get along just fine.

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Sydney spent the morning learning about the work that she would be doing around the compound which seemed easy enough as she was good with paperwork and better with numbers. Gemma had taken the liberty of pointing out a few of the guys to her, Half-Sack was the prospect she'd met yesterday - whose real name was Kip. She also learned that the Scottish man from yesterday was named Chibs - the one who apparently had noticed her rack - and Bobby was the older man, an Elvis impersonator who Sydney had actually seen perform as a kid.

"What about that guy with the curly hair… Tig?" She questioned as casually as possible..

"That's Clay's right hand - Sergeant at Arms." Gemma shot the new girl a knowing glance.

Sydney smirked, mentally patted herself on the back for knowing that he was of high ranking in the club - patting even harder for the snide comment she'd made to him yesterday.

"He already tryin to make a move on you?" Gemma asked with narrowed eyes, sounding like the protective mother that Sydney would soon learn she was.

"I have a feeling he makes a move on anything with a pulse." Sydney scoffed, looking down at the order slips on her desk.

"And without". Gemma retorted. But she could tell that she wouldn't have to warn the intuitive girl about Tig - she knew exactly what she was getting into.

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5:00 P.M. came and Sydney took her place behind the bar with Gemma, ready for her introduction to the rest of the crew. The two both knew that she could handle herself, but they had warmed up to each other quickly, and Sydney definitely didn't mind having the moral support of the Queen.

The roaring sound of Harleys filled their ears as the guys arrived for church - a sound that made Sydney feel even more at home in the new town. "Nothing gets my panties wetter than that noise." She gawked, making Gemma laugh.

Members started to pour in, most of them coming up eagerly to introduce themselves to the mysterious new blonde behind the bar.

"I figured I'd be seeing you here again, Lass." Chibs smirked as he walked up to the bar.

Sydney decided to make an even more memorable impression on the foreigner than her first one, leaning forward onto the bartop and pushing her tits up under the weight. "You thought right, Scotty." She tipped him a wink as her cleavage doubled, watching his eyes widen and drop immediately down to her chest.

She looked past the stunned Scotsman and waved to Bobby as he walked past the bar into the chapel.

"Hello there, sweetheart." He smiled and waved politely.

Clay entered the bar, making his way over Sydney and Gemma where he kissed his wife on the cheek and began pouring himself a glass of scotch.

"How's it goin here so far?" He asked Sydney.

"Good, I –" She cut her sentence short as a scary looking man walked in: bald, covered in tattoos, and a cold expression. He didn't make eye contact, clearly thinking she was just a regular blonde crow as he looked at the ground while taking a seat at the bar.

"You think you're just gonna fucking walk in here without giving me the greeting that I deserve?" She snarked.

Happy's head snapped up with a look of murder in his eyes, worry immediately washing over the room as the new girl challenged the most lethal man they knew. But as soon as he made eye contact with the bitch who dared to speak to him that way, his expression softened and his eyes sparkled.

"You think you're fuckin special?" He rasped with a smirk.

A grin spread across Sydney's face and a twinkle found its way into her eye as everyone looked between the two of them.

Happy dropped the facade and returned her grin before running around the bar. "What the hell are you doing here, Princess?" He picked her up into a hug and spun her around.

Happy Lowman had originally been patched into the Tacoma charter, but quickly went Nomad when his mom got sick - bringing him to San Bernardino where he spent time with SAMDINO while Sydney was growing up. He'd been a huge part of molding her into who she was, kind of like a big brother... A big brother that she liked to flirt with just to get under that tightly stretched skin of his.

The Nomad had moved on from San Bernardino a couple years ago when his mom's health had begun to improve, and though he visited frequently, it had been months since Sydney had seen him - aside from her dad's celebration of life, of course. When Packer gave her the go ahead to transfer, her first thought was to tell Happy, but Packer had insisted that she wait to see if it was a good fit - and now she knew why.

A few of the guys eventually caught on, relieved as they made the connection between her and all of his time in San Bernardino. Clay had known all about their relationship - thanks to Packer - but he had decided to keep their presence a secret from one another, knowing that he would need some back-up from the Nomad once her transfer was brought to the table.

"Finally let me go." Sydney smirked. Happy had known how badly she'd wanted to live up to her full potential and fight for a seat at the table, and he had also known that her home wasn't the place for that. She'd been pushing for a send off for years, and she finally got it.

"I'm sorry about your old man... Miss him everyday." Happy whispered as he kissed her on the cheek, glad that they were together again after the trauma that she had just gone through for a second time in her life.

Sydney nodded as she hugged him tight, clinging to the only piece of home that she had worried about missing. As close as they were, Happy wasn't a man of many words - given he spoke to her more than almost anyone else - she rarely knew the details of where he was going or who he was with, as it was strictly 'need to know'. Over the years of harassing him with questions and trying to get him to communicate like a normal person to no avail, she'd grown to just accept that he would always resurface.

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"Trying to slip away without telling me again?" Sydney asked with amusement from the doorway of Happy's dorm in the SAMDINO clubhouse, watching him hurriedly pack his shoulder bag for the ride. He only grunted in response, causing her to roll your eyes. "You know if you would just tell me where you were going, I would stop bugging you about it." She stated simply.

"You don't need to know, little girl." He returned to packing his bag. Happy had known of her dream to patch for years - but he'd known of her father's plan for her, longer. He knew she would dig if she had all the intel, and it was too early for that.

Sydney scoffed, crossing the room to the desk chair and sitting down. "Always the same damn answer. I don't get it Hap, you trust me with more than you trust anyone else with but I don't get to know where you're going." Her casual tone gradually got more and more sassy, the frustration poking through.

"It ain't about that." His back was still to her.

Sydney knew it was no use getting worked up over his lack of explanation and attention to the matter, if Happy had his mind made up - there was no changing it. "You got a secret girlfriend you're hiding from me?" She raised a brow playfully.

Happy smirked over his shoulder in response to her absurd question before turning back to the dwindling pile of ill fitting garments. "Don't think you're getting a break from training, Tank's gonna keep you goin while I'm gone."

"You say it like I want a break." She said with a cocky smirk, earning another discerning look from the Tacoma Killer. They both knew that he worked her too hard, but he could never get her to admit it. "Ride safe. See ya soon Happy Feet." She smiled, standing to take her leave.

"I should be the one tellin you that." He called after the reckless teenager, an evil smile of pure satisfaction spreading across her face as she bounded out of his room and down the hall.

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"Thanks Hap. I'm so glad you're here, it's nice to see a friendly face." Sydney cupped his cheek gratefully, noting that it was the first sound of true sincerity in her voice since she had arrived in Charming - no business or cryptic bullshit. She was truly thankful to have her biggest cheerleader right where she needed him the most.

Clay spit out his liquor when Sydney ironically called Happy a 'friendly face', making Bobby, Jax, and Chibs laugh while Juice, Tig, Half-Sack and Gemma stood motionless with their jaws on the floor. The Tacoma Killer was ruthless, relentless, fearless - they knew immediately that if he would crack a smile for her, they were in for one hell of a ride.

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Songs for this chapter

Devil - Shinedown

Burning Gold - Christina Perri

Rearview Town - Jason Aldean

California Dreamin' - The Mamas & The Papas

Adam Raised a Cain - Bruce Springsteen

Castle - Halsey