A/N: Ok, so here's the deal. I started rewatching Sons of Anarchy during the winter break and it just brought me memories. I wanted to start writing again and I thought, ah yes, why not an AU-ish OC story to relive the good ol' fanfiction days? This is what it is, it's an OC and Jax story, I never liked Tara much (go Wendy!) and I wanted to do some sappy-ish romance. It is what it is, if you're into it, great, if not that's cool too.
First chapter is a light intro on my girl. I think of her as British punk version of Nicole Kidman's character in Practical Magic. I will get to SoA and stuff from the second chapter on, hang in there.
As always, don't own anything you recognize.
Peace.
A.
Chapter 1: Anarchy in the UK
Jimmy Knight stood in the waiting room with a mist of anxiety and worry. He thought of Jacob and Cecily and how he had failed them. He shook his head at that, there he goes again, paranoid. Making shit up. Alexandra was a grown adult woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions, yet he still felt like he needed to take care of her.
The door to the doctor's office opened. And the redhead popped out of it, her thin frame and pale skin contrasted well with her black tattoos; she had full sleeves down both of her arms, perfectly visible as she wore a simple tank top and jeans and her signature Docs. Her huge back tattoo piece peaking from under her clothes as well. Her long straight and blood-orange hair fell down her shoulders and down to her waist, her bangs side swept left. The black eyeliner she always wore was a smudgy mess around her bright and wide bottle green eyes, which now appeared glassy and tired. She'd been crying for sure, although he was sure she wouldn't admit. She glanced at him for a moment and when their eyes met, she looked away and back at the doctor. Already evading him.
"Take it easy, if you have difficulty sleeping you can take a full pill," the doctor said, handing Alexandra a note and an orange bottle with pills. "Don't take more than one, though, it will mess with you."
"Thank you," Alexandra replied with her unmistakable London accent. It always stood out, complemented her entire look. Her voice failed for a second. She cleared her throat. "I appreciate it."
"Take care of yourself, yes?" the young female doctor said with a smile. The redhead nodded and managed a faint smile back.
"Good to go?" Jimmy spoke up and the two women looked at him. The doctor smiled and nodded, the redheaded evaded his eyes again and looked at the doctor. The doctor placed a hand on Alexandra's shoulder and walked back to her office.
"Please don't," the redhead said as soon as the doctor closed the door to her office and she met Jimmy's eyes one more time, already walking to the glass doors to the exit.
Jimmy sighed.
"Alex, Jesus Christ, kid-" he started as he followed Alex as she blasted through the exit doors.
"I am not a kid," she said impatiently… Like a bratty kid. She realized the irony and shook her head, sighing and still walking. "I am fine, it's fine."
"Is it, though?" he grabbed her gently by the wrist, and she jumped, eyes wide. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking back at him. "You see this?" he continued, people staring at them but in true San Francisco fashion trying their best to not get involved and keeping their way.
"Is this ok? Is this normal?" he asked, gesturing to her jumpiness.
"What do you want me to do, Jimmy?" she snapped at him. Her voice trembled; her voice never trembled. "I already went to the feds; they can't arrest him for being on the street even if he just happens to always be where I am. I got the emergency protection order like you said, they got him locked up now but we both know he will be out by Monday. Tell me, what should I do?"
Her eyes got glassy with tears again. It was disconcerting to see her like this, it was so unusual. Jimmy had known her all of his life, being friends with her father and all, she was always a tough girl. A tomboy through most her teen years, a true British punk - foul-mouthed and full of attitude, covered in black tattoos of dark themes like crows, reapers, goats and devils. But here she looked at him the same way she did in 1997, when he flew from California to London to visit her father dying of cancer and she was only 16. He promised her dad he'd watch out for her; her mother had died a couple of years earlier.
"I-I don't know," Jimmy stuttered. He wanted to hug her; he knew she'd never go for that though. Stubborn little punk princess. But he loved her like a daughter and seeing her like that broke his heart. "Maybe take some time off? Travel?"
"I refuse to change my life because of him, to run away." she said and stepped closer to him, noticing that people walking by were still looking even though they still just walked around them. The buzz of the picturesque San Francisco afternoon surrounded them. "Listen, I can't, my pride won't allow me to go. I am not moving back to London, I can't let him control me like that, it's what he wants."
"I agree, darling, I do," Jimmy said softly, and touched her shoulder, this time she didn't flinch. "Listen, I have an assignment maybe. It came to my desk at the magazine this morning, it will take you away and you'll be just doing your thing, not changing your life."
"I'm listening," her expression eased, she blinked her eyes several times, a trick she learned to swallow back tears. He smiled and motioned towards his Prius parked on the street a few steps to their left.
[xxx]
"So, do you remember that story from San Bernardino?" Jimmy asked as they both entered the car. "The attack at the cigar shop and that motorcycle club basically getting all arrested?"
"The Nazi shop?" Alex asked, fastening her seatbelt. She felt so out of sorts in that Prius. Ah, Jimmy, you old hipster queen. "Is it? What of it?"
"Well, here's the thing," Jimmy continued as he drove away. "These guys, they call themselves League of American Nationalists—"
Alex scoffed, "Wankers," she muttered.
"I know, right?" Jimmy said excitedly, glad to be taking the girl's mind off her madness. "Anyway, everywhere they go, these gangs drop like flies. They are setting up shop this time, you will never guess it, in Charming."
"Charming?" Alex asked, surprised, and exchanged a look with Jimmy while he drove. He knew she'd react to that. "As in the little town I was born?"
"Precisely. Weird, right?"
"Why Charming?" she asked. She didn't know much about it, but it seemed like a very small fish for an Aryan group to want to fry. "I mean, there's nothing there, even I have never been there really."
"Ah, that's where you're mistaken. There is something there," Jimmy said, an octave higher, excitedly. "There's a motorcycle club there too, another one percenter, like the one in San Bernardino."
"Right, I've heard of that."
"They're called the Sons of Anarchy, remember when we were in Tacoma doing that piece on the Museum of Glass, and saw all those bikers?" he asked, she nodded. When they covered an exhibit at the Museum of Glass in Tacoma the city seemed swarmed by those bikers, enough that the two journalists in them made a note for posterity. "I think it's the same club. It apparently has really strong roots in Charming and they run some uh... let's say unsavory business there. There must be some angle as to why the Nazis would focus on it."
"And you want me to cover that?"
"The Nazis, yes," he clarified. "I think you'd be perfect, you've got the look," he motioned to her tattooed arms and just general appearance. "And you have a tie to the town. I know it means nothing to you, but it'd be a good cover for you to be there and not raise too many red flags."
"Could work," she said, pensive. And looked out the window. "I think I would really like some undercover work now."
"It would take you out of here," he said, glancing at her briefly. Excited that she seemed interested. "You can take a leave of absence from the magazine to cover your tracks and then go find yourself in our birthplace. It's perfect, really."
"Do you think the Nazis would look into me?" she looked at him. She often wrote about art and entertainment, and the few investigative pieces she did were always under pseudonym, obviously. But if the Nazis looked into her, they'd easily find out she's a journalist. "Do you think they'd buy that I'm just an art and entertainment journalist? I mean, I've got the look but I've also got the accent and this translucent pale British-Irish skin, not exactly California Dreaming inconspicuous."
"Honestly, I think they will buy it," he nodded, eyes on the road. "You will have to work on your angle, of course. But to be honest I am more worried with you here and this Scott stuff. If you leave this weekend, you'd be long in Charming before he gets out and can even think about tracking you down again. He will find out about the leave because he's a fucking stalking bastard but I doubt he will ever guess you went to Charming. He will probably think you're back in England."
"I think you're right," she said, still looking out the window. Just the mention of Scott's name sent an uneasy feeling down her spine. "Fuck, Jimmy, I honestly don't know what to do about this anymore."
"I know," Jimmy said lowly, glancing at her, she kept her eyes on the road.
"The whole damsel in distress look is something I've always hated, it doesn't look good on me," she continued her rant. "But what does he have to do for the police to take me seriously? Actually hurt me? This shit is messing with my head, I fucking hate it."
"I know, it sucks, darling," Jimmy replied softly as they stopped at a traffic jam. "This is what he wants though, you're right. You have to keep a clear head. Do you want to crash at our place tonight? We can go get Sid, and you can stay over."
Alex didn't respond right away. She sighed and closed her eyes, suddenly even the sun light hurt her eyes. Jimmy glanced at her and let her be. And her thoughts raced.
This was the fourth time that Scott had shown up at the magazine, looking for her. When she was out in LA last month covering the Metallica show, there he was hounding her. He played it off, said he loved Metallica, why wouldn't he go see them in LA? But she knew he was there to stalk her. He never got over their breakup, but she would never have stayed with him after he threatened beating her. She was even surprised she took the emotional abuse and control that long, but when he raised his hand to her? That was it for her. He didn't let it go though, and the stalking started almost immediately and had been going on now for over six months. She got the emergency protection order and he disappeared for a while, until today when he showed up at the magazine again, high out of his mind with something really strong, asking for her, causing a scene and saying he'd changed. She finally snapped, and had a panic attack.
The police were called, Scott was taken for violating the order and Jimmy, her friend and editor took her to a doctor to get something to calm her down. And there she was. Maybe this Charming assignment was the right thing to do. The police told her they couldn't keep him long; he'd be out soon. And he'd be back, she knew it.
"Are you sure I can stay over tonight?" she opened her eyes and glanced at Jimmy, they moved quite a bit, she must have been silent for a long time. "Will Richie be ok with Sid there?"
"Nah, he loves Sid," Jimmy half lied. Richie, his husband, didn't hate the dog or anything, but he was terrified of the rottweiler. He smiled. "He will be fine. We love you; you know that."
"Thank you," she smiled, that nice sweet white smile she always had, a total contrast with her personality and look. She reached for his hand and held it. "I'm sorry I'm such a cunt."
"You're not, darling," he kissed her hand. He loved how her British ass used the word cunt so flippantly. "I mean, you are a cunt, but you're my favorite cunt. Actually, the only cunt I like," they both laughed. "It's a fucked-up situation. I get it."
[xxx]
That night they went by her loft, grabbed a change of clothes, her faithful Rottweiler Sid and headed to Jimmy and Richie's house. She took a shower and crashed with Sid in their guest bedroom almost immediately after she took one of the pills the doctor had given her. She slept through the night, something she thought she wouldn't be able to, but she absolutely hated depending on drugs to get a good night sleep. That had to go soon.
She put on her a simple black summer dress with a halter neck, her signature docs and walked out of the bedroom to the immaculately decorated living and dining room, Sid faithfully by her side.
"Alright, I'll do it!" she exclaimed as she approached Richie at the head of the dining room table. The grey-haired chubby man smiled at her and ignored the dog. She kissed the top of his head and grabbed a piece of toast from his plate, throwing herself at the chair by his right.
Jimmy, flipping an omelette in the kitchen observed the interaction and the flippant way in which she just sat by the table after stealing the toast, her legs slightly spread her big red hair messily falling around her shoulders. That's the Alex he knew.
"Oooh! Great great! Excellent!" he said, looking at her, clapping his hands in excitement.
"What is it with you and Charming again?" Richie said with his equally proper London accent, like Alex's, unbothered by her manners. "Jimmy filled me in the assignment but I have no idea why you and Charming have a history."
"Oh, we don't really," Alex said, as she grabbed the orange juice and poured some in a cup. "I was born there, remember when my da came to California to work on a project with Jimmy's brother?" she said and Richie nodded, Jimmy put down a bowl with food for Sid next to her. "Thank you, love," she said as the dog went to the bowl and started eating. "My mum came with him, it was supposed to be a holiday for her while he was here, she was already pregnant then. My da was a consultant for this company and one of their projects was in Charming. My mother went into labour while in there, I was premature, slightly. So, I was born there and we stayed there until I was 5 or 6 months old, shortly after my parents went back to England and I really never cared much for it." she shrugged.
"It was just some quirky fact, born in Charming, California. Pale assed and redhaired," she added with a smile and flicked her hair. The two men laughed.
"Ah, but that's a perfect cover up for your job though," Richie said, "How quaint! The Brit goes to the small Californian town to find herself. She is of course a badass undercover journalist researching American neo-Nazis! I think this will be good!"
"I think so too," she nodded and glanced at Jimmy, now joined them. "Thank you, Jimmy."
"Of course, darling," Jimmy said and suddenly evaded her eyes. "I mean, I'm glad this worked out because I already put in your leave of absence," he glanced at her jokingly guilty, she smiled. "Three months to start."
"You tosser," she joked. "Fine, I will go by my loft and pack and hit the road. I looked up, it's about an hour and a half to Charming."
"It's three months to start, but you take as long as you need," he said, paternally. "You be careful though."
"I will," she took a big gulp of orange juice and got up at once, walking between the two of them still seated at the table and pulling them both for a hug. She kissed both their heads. "Thank you both, my queens, I don't know what my life would be without you two."
"We love you, princess," Richie added.
"Ugh," she scoffed, the two men laughed. She hated when they called her princess. She let go of them and grabbed the backpack she left in the living room with her stuff, Sid following her. "I will come by the magazine to sign the leave papers on my way out of town."
"Go get 'em!" Jimmy said and blew her a kiss. She blew him a kiss back and left.
