The goddaughter of the San Bernardino President of the infamous Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club moves to Charming in search of a place at the mother chapter's table after her father, the former Vice President of SAMDINO passes away. Her life's ambition has been to become the first female patched member, and the recent downfall of SAMCRO is her best shot. With a warm welcome, she feels invincible. But that warm welcome may be the very thing that ends up standing in her way.

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

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CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO CHARMING

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Sydney Harding rolled into the Teller-Morrow Auto Repair lot just after lunch on a sunny 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 S.O.A. 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 S.O.A. 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 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 want to be caught alone in the woods with, 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 dark coloured jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up underneath his uniform where the stitching on the lapel of the grey garment read 'Tig'. Weird name, she thought - undoubtedly a moniker - but it suited him somehow, as did the silver chain around his neck.

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: smoky, 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 as she gave 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 sweetbutt looking to get in good with the local bikers and become a croweater, 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 that he was watching - and 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 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 was 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 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. "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 of green that looked yellow in the sun, and black in the shade. They weren't a shocking blue like his, but they still somehow 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, tensing as he spoke to her. She was never this jumpy when meeting new people, but she quickly shook the thought out of her head - chalking it up to the excitement over the new endeavour. "Sydney." She drawled, 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 before a man sitting at the bar 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 to inform his President that his secret visitor had arrived.

Sydney's smile widened once he was out of sight, taking the opportunity to quickly scan the clubhouse so that she could get a lay of the land. To the left of the open room-turned-bar there was a pool table, a large stereo, a few couches, and a dart board. To the right was the actual bar itself where two men wearing kuttes were sitting - 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 of various heights surrounding a stripper pole, and straight ahead were the double doors of the chapel next to the infamous wall of framed mugshots, just like the one in the clubhouse back home - only it hadn't been nearly as extensive as the one before her.

"Aye, Lass." One of the men called over to her - the one who had laughed at her joke. "That was great. He's usually the one throwing the jabs, nice to see him take some." He chortled 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 as she examined the deep scars in his clean-shaven face. He was about to say something else when the double doors at the back of the room opened with a loud creak, revealing a man standing behind them; tall, broad, white hair, and a worn 'President' flash on the front of his kutte - this was Clay Morrow.

"Sydney." He called huskily with a nod of his head before disappearing into the chapel.

Sydney shot them a devilish smile as scowls creeped across their faces, turning and walking towards the open doors which she closed behind her - sending Tig emerging from the hallway where he joined the two men, taking the open seat beside them at the bar that happened to be closest to the chapel.

"What d'ya think she's talkin to Clay about?" Bobby asked as he rubbed his scraggly beard.

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

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

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Clay pulled out a chair for Sydney 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 voice sent a chill right through her veins. It was gravelly, and much deeper than any man's voice that she'd 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 - so she remained standing. She knew and respected the reaper.

Clay smirked as she stayed firmly planted in her stilettos, lighting a cigar. "I hear you can be of service to me." He looked up 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, Clay was short and to the point - if you didn't have anything to offer him, then 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 from the unprecedented situation at all. 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 croweater that walked in and out of here after swallowing a few loads; young, bleach blonde, big tits. 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 she was most definitely no sweetbutt.

"This place will become your home, these people will become your family." He explained with a pause as he inhaled regrettably. "I'm sorry about your old man." He sighed sympathetically. "James... He was a good guy." He nodded as he fondly 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 since she'd spoken, he couldn't look at her - 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 up the street from what had become her new favorite coffee shop.

"Good." Clay nodded. "You can start your work here tomorrow morning - 10:00A.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 finally looking at her for the first time since she'd opened her mouth. "Give my guys hell, will ya?" His eyebrows raised, revealing a pair of 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 as she opened the doors to the chapel, the smell of cigarettes and whiskey flooding 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 that the heat that 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 every day. 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 pulled onto the compound the next morning at 9:48 A.M.. Just as she was putting her car into park, a woman pulled into the spot next to her in a freshly-polished, black Cadillac XLR. She knew immediately that this was Clay's wife: Gemma Teller-Morrow. The woman was infamous among the charters; the old lady that every sweetbutt aspired to be - a tough bitch, a major MILF, and a woman that you would not want to cross.

Now that Sydney found herself in her regal presence, she could say with certainty that her reputation definitely did not precede her. Gemma was the sexiest middle-aged woman that she had ever seen with her blonde-peppered dark hair, high cheekbones, and perfectly toned body dressed in expensive black leather.

Gemma quickly recognized the young girl in the old car that Clay had told her about the day before - as if she hadn't watched her entire encounter with Tig through the office blinds. "You must be Sydney." She stated as she approached her 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 as she looked down at the cleavage busting out of the black, criss-cross scoop-neck 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 office, 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 as they passed through the office for a proper introduction: Half-Sack was the prospect she'd met the day before - whose preferred nickname was Kip - the Scottish man was named Chibs, and Bobby was the older man - an Elvis impersonator who Sydney had actually seen performing around California 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 patting herself on the back for knowing that he had to have been of high ranking in the club - patting even harder for the snide comment she'd made to him.

"He already tryin' to make a move on you?" Gemma asked with narrowing eyes.

"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 by the smirk on the intuitive girl's face, that she didn't have to warn her 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.

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 smirked, looking past the stunned Scotsman and waving to Bobby as he walked past the bar and into the chapel.

"Hello there, sweetheart." He smiled politely, still weary about the entourage surrounding what he was sure was just more eye-candy to decorate the clubhouse with.

Clay entered the bar, making his way over to Sydney and Gemma where he kissed his wife on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of Scotch. "How's it goin here so far?" He asked the women, looking primarily at Sydney - he knew that Gemma would give him a full rundown later.

"Good, I –" She cut her sentence short as a scary looking man walked in; bald, covered literally head to toe in tattoos, and a harshly set jaw. He didn't bother making eye contact with whatever croweater was manning the bar today as he took a seat among his Northern California brothers that always welcomed him with open arms during his visits.

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

The man'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 that they knew. But as soon as he made eye contact with the bitch who dared to speak to him that way, his expression softened.

"You think you're fuckin' special?" His raspy voice carried over the smirk that tugged at his lips as a twinkle found its way into his eye, and a grin found its way onto her face as everyone looked between the two of them in a tense anticipation.

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

Happy Lowman had originally been patched into the Tacoma charter, but quickly went Nomad when his mom had become ill - bringing him to San Bernardino where he spent a large amount of time in 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 as they watched the odd pair embrace in relief. 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...

"He 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'. After 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.

"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 her 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 that she would dig if she had all the intel, and it was too early for that.

Sydney scoffed, crossing the room to the small rolling 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." He shook his head. "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." She smiled, standing to take her leave. "See ya soon, Happy Feet." She called over her shoulder.

"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.

"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'd 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 unironically referred to the stoic man as a 'friendly face', making Bobby, Jax, and Chibs all laugh while Juice, Tig, Half-Sack, and Gemma all stood motionless with their jaws hanging wide open. The Tacoma Killer was ruthless, relentless, and 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

Burning Gold - Christina Perri

Rearview Town - Jason Aldean

California Dreamin' - The Mamas & The Papas

Adam Raised a Cain - Bruce Springsteen

Castle - Halsey