"Sorry, Prez."
Happy walked into Church late - again - with an obvious sheen of sweat on his forehead that he wiped off with his forearm and a barely concealed smirk on his face. Jax rolled his eyes slightly and nodded for him to sit, and Juice chuckled with a smirk.
"I think you should thank my wife for bringin' you back a Christmas present. You've been playin' with it a lot lately," Juice prodded, eliciting a less than friendly gesture consisting of a single finger from Happy.
Hap had been occupied during the week after Christmas helping Wenya get settled into Charming. Sometimes, very loudly. Sometimes, in his dorm at the clubhouse. Sometimes, in the garage at TM. Nero assured, however, that whatever was going on, Wenya certainly wasn't accepting payment for it the way she was with her new clients at Diosa. Since it seemed to be doing no harm, they simply let Hap enjoy his new playmate while they still found one another interesting.
"Like I was saying," Jax said in slightly annoyance. "We need to make a decisive move before Marks and the Chinese creep in too close to our territory. That's why I'm puttin' it out to the table. All in favor of making our move by... by attackin' the lounges? Hittin' Lin Kwan with our full force?"
Everyone at the table glanced around, and Jax glanced at Happy to cast the first vote.
"Yea," he said flatly, and there was a flurry of glances shared, filled with the suspicion that his new friend had something to do with it.
Tig scratched at his nose slightly, and answered "Yea," as well. He next looked to Juice, who had with hands folded in front of his face.
"Nay."
"Nay."
He looked up and saw that Chibs immediately had echoed his sentiment. Bobby glanced around now, first at Jax, who looked at him expectantly, then at the others. "Nay," he said, shaking his head.
Rat and Quinn each voted differently, and didn't affect the outcome - Jax's motion to attack didn't pass.
"Tell Juice this is the last time I come to you for advice, I promise."
"I don't mind," Denise shrugged as she sat out on the porch with Jax, with Denise drinking a bottled water and Jax drinking a beer. Jax chuckled, shaking his head.
"Your husband's gonna go full metal jacket on me next time I bring you into club business. And I'd have no choice but to let 'im," he smirked. "I promised I was done doin' this before - before -"
Denise cleared her throat and nodded, cutting Jax off for her own sake just as much as his. They'd gone this long without really talking about what Gemma had done and the turmoil that had ensued as a result. They didn't need to start now. "Well, shoot, Prez," she said casually, not truly believing this was the last time he was going to try and bounce an idea off of her.
"The table voted down the motion - about attacking the nightclubs," Jax said, shaking his head. "That was all I had, Dee. I don't know how else to stop Marks and your brother from closin' in on us. I don't got anythin' else," he shrugged hopelessly.
Jax found it unsettling when Denise didn't speak up with a suggestion right away - he'd grown so accustomed to her speaking up and wiping problems away as though they were easy, because she had an outsider perspective on things. The fact that she couldn't manage it this time felt like a punch in the gut, and he took a swig from his beer to quell the sensation.
"We're fucked," he laughed coldly, scratching the back of his neck. "We don't got anythin' to fight back with -"
"Just because you can't pull out all the stops and blow shit up doesn't mean you have nothing," Denise corrected, raising any eyebrow. "Don't you guys have that rule? That one about the brains -"
"Brains before bullets," Jax nodded, his tongue mulling over the words almost as though they were a foreign language to him - they might as well have been now, with everything they had done. He exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. "You know, I finally realized - the problem with that rule is that I'd run outta brains long before I run outta bullets."
"Did you ever think of trying to fight back... I don't know, differently?" Denise asked. For a moment, there was something in her voice - a brightness and an innocence that made her sound like the Denise he had first met over a year ago, who had offered herself a repayment of Juice's debts to the club, a strange mix of shrewdness and innocence. Jax, however, couldn't help but laugh at the suggestion.
"Dee, I'm gonna tell you what I told Tara a long time ago," he said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. "I'm an okay mechanic with a GED -"
"You're a president," Denise interrupted, holding up her index finger to silence him. "And running in guns-a-blazing isn't what presidents do. You use your connections. Your pull. You use the people."
"That's all well and good, Dee, but we need something we can use."
"Marks knows how to handle outlaws by now," Denise said in slight exasperation. "He's been playin' your game for years, he knows how it works. He can call your moves and retaliate before you're even done making them, because he's seen it before. There are only so many ways to shoot a man or set a building on fire. But you know why he's never been able to own Oakland like he owns the small towns?"
"Too expensive?"
"The city's a different kind of place," Denise continued, undistracted by Jax's comment. "The shit people do out there? The TV crews, the protesting? They take those crowds and that publicity, and they leverage it. They use it," Denise said. "If you can get that kind of pull, if you can draw down attention from people like that down here to Charming, you can at least buy time - put up a roadbloack in Marks's way," Denise suggested.
Jax mulled it over - the idea of handling things Denise's way, of handling it the same way that city slickers did, for whatever reason did not sit well with him. The Sons of Anarchy had never played the game that way. At first, the biggest worry for him was that this was even further from the road his father had initially wanted for SAMCRO. But as he mulled it over and Denise awaited his answer, he realized that between Marks and going legit, Marks was the greater oppressor. The town of Charming would lose more of its freedom once Marks rolled through. JT would have chosen the same, Jax decided.
"Gemma used to - she used to have this carnival every year. Everyone in town would come out," Jax said, very stiffly brushing over his mother's name out of necessity. If we could pull somethin' off like that, do you know people?"
"Yeah," Denise said with a small laugh. "I know people."
In particular, Denise had a few friends from her life before SAMCRO - very few. Among them, however, was a likeable blonde girl who had practically befriended Denise by force. Melissa, whom Denise had kept in touch with at least minimally since she'd left Stockton, was now one of the most well-liked interns at the local news station, and apparently, based on their last conversation, engaged to another old friend.
So, when Denise pitched the idea to Juice that they should get away from Charming for at least a day or two and spend a little time in Stockton to visit Melissa, his response came in two waves.
Juice had always been fond of Melissa - the woman was kind, and had been, admittedly, a huge driving force in pushing Denise closer to him. It had been at Melissa's party at the bar where they'd first kissed by accident, and by Melissa's prodding that Denise had brought him out of the house to begin with. She was sweet, even if a little naive, and Juice found her refreshing to be around.
The second wave of his response, however, came when he found out that Melissa was now engaged to Denise's old friend, Harvey, whom Juice still harbored an unfulfilled desire to punch in the throat a few times. The occasional spilled drink and copped feel would have been enough to set Juice on a quest to defend Denise's honor, but the fact that Harvey had ratted on Denise to her brother and told them man that she was getting married caused even the mention of his name to set off lights and sirens in Juice's mind.
Eventually, however, Juice conceded. Stockton, shitty place that it was, held some good memories for him even if solely for the fact that it was the place that he'd met the woman he loved more than anyone. He groused a bit at the fact that they were going because it was for some plan that Denise had hatched with Jax, but Juice also realized that sometimes, it was better not to stand in their way. It was personal for Denise now too. It was about family, as much as Denise tried to deny that she still looked at her brother as such.
The thing that mattered most to Juice was that at least for a few days, they were getting out of Charming, away from the club - it seemed childish, no matter how he phrased it, but there were times he just wanted his wife and daughter to himself. He wanted them to not belong to anyone else - and as much as he aprreciated the love and support from Jax and his boys, from Lyla and Wendy, from the club, he realized that there were some parts of his life he didn't necessarily need them in on; they didn't need to have their hands in this cookie jar.
Happy, being assigned to escort them safely out of town and into Stockton, watched on silently as the Ortiz family loaded into the car with a few days' worth of things. Seeing Happy on his bike in the rearview mirror the entire drive to Stockton was strangely comforting for Juice, who was behind the wheel of Denise's car while she sat in the back with Sofia, buckled in and sleeping cozily in her carseat. Finally, when the car pulled up at the old townhouse, which had over the course of the past year been cleaned up after being ransacked by Henry Lin when Denise had first disappeared, Juice rolled down his window just as Happy pulled up in the driveway next to home.
"Check in on my place once in a while, aight brotha'?" Juice said, pulling the spare house key off of his key ring and tossing it out the window. Happy caught it and gave a curt nod, tucking it into his own pocket before getting up to help bring their bags in. He said his goodbyes, giving both Denise and Sofia a kiss on the side of the head - Juice always found the softness that Happy was capable of with certain people such an interesting contrast from what he actually did day to day.
"Drive safe, Hap," Denise said, giving the larger man a one-armed hug, to which he simply chuckled in response before heading out the door and driving off.
Happy wasn't particularly cool with the idea of leaving the Ortiz family on their own in Stockton - Juice had earned his stripes, sure, but he was still wary of the man's ability to defend his family on his own. Happy had grown admittedly pretty fond of Denise and Sofia, having stuck with Jax and SAMCRO when SAMBAY broke off - Denise, though perhaps with Gemma over her shoulder at every move, had been somewhat of a matriarch from afar, and contrasted with her baby daughter's softness and delicateness, they seemed to set off the protective nature in everyone, Happy included.
However, knowing that Denise would never put up with the idea of being thought incapable or weak or needy - the things she hated most, Happy knew - he let it be. What else could you do?
He rode back into Charming and found that leaving them on their own left him feeling much more tense than he had expected - he could probably use a good distraction, he decided. So, rather than checking in right away at the clubhouse or making sure the Ortiz house was locked up, he instead made a beeline for Diosa.
Admittedly, Wenya was good at what she did. Very good. She had a roughness about her that Denise didn't, which was probably what made them very different in his mind - Denise was the kind of girl people wanted to protect. Wenya was the girl you wanted to do other things to. Happy recounted a few of those things with a small smirk as he got off of his bike and walked through back doors at Diosa with every intention of ticking a few more off the list.
He pushed open Wenya's door however, and was immediately met with the sound of a thud, followed by Wenya's high voice - and another, lower, equally familiar voice - letting out a surprised string of curses.
"Flick."
Happy's voice was flat in tone while the prospect stared up at him in terror, clad only in his boxers, having fallen on the floor when he was pushed from his position on top of Wenya in bed. Wenya stared at Happy as well, and while he was expressionless, the look on her face was harsh, almost defiant. They stared at one another for a few intense moments, while Flick remained on the floor practically sweating bullets until Happy's gaze settled on him.
"Hurry up and get back to work. Prospect," he said, practically spitting out the last word before exiting, slamming the door behind him and leaving back in the direction of the clubhouse.
Croweater pussy would do just fine.
A/N's
Sorry for the delay in chapters! Holidays are always hectic, but things are slowly settling. Hope you guys all had a wonderful Christmas, by the way, and I hope your New Year is equally wonderful if I don't manage to get you all another update before then. As always, I appreciate all of your feedback and messages, they make my day brighter! Until next time, cheers!