A/N: Happy New Year - thanks for all the support and I hope 2020 is everything you'd wish for yourselves!


Twenty-Five

"I'm so glad you didn't cancel on me, doll," Lyla beamed, slipping her arm through Eden's as they window-shopped while sipping iced coffees. "You've had such a rough time lately and I hate seeing you sad. Plus, I love the kids, but I am so ready for some grown-up time."

"They at your mom's?"

"Yup, and they're staying over, so we can stay out as late as we want and come home as drunk as we want."

Eden couldn't help laughing at her friend's infectious enthusiasm. "You sound like a teenager yourself, Ly."

"Sad, isn't it?" she giggled. "That's what single parenthood has reduced me to – getting my kicks when I can. Oh my god, look at that dress! I wonder if that's real leather or …?"

Finding herself caught by the hand and trailed into the nearest store, Eden's eyes widened when she got a better look. "Lyla, I've got bikinis that cover more than that!"

"Then we need to get your pert little ass some better bikinis too," Lyla shrugged, sticking her tongue out at the bemused paramedic before starting to rifle through the rails and grabbing anything that caught her eye.

"Are you seriously trying all those on?"

"Of course not, silly. These are for you."


Giving her head a little shake in disbelief that she was actually even considering the tiny garment she'd poured herself into in the relative sanctuary of the changing cubicle, Eden hesitantly pulled back the curtain just enough for Lyla to get a peek – and was immediately greeted with a little shriek of glee as the other woman's hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my god, Eden!" Lyla all but squealed, ignoring any efforts to hush her in favour of whipping back the curtain fully and demanding a twirl to get the full effect. "You look absolutely incredible, you bitch. If you weren't just the loveliest, I would totally hate you right now. You have to get it. You absolutely have to."

It was more a shimmer of gold than anything as substantial as a dress, thousands of tiny sequins all catching the light as their wearer turned self-consciously. Barely-there spaghetti straps and a plunging v-neck that only stopped just above her navel allowed for nothing underneath, but the former porn star and director considered herself something of a body expert and had suspected even before a trial that her friend had the figure to pull it off hidden away. And she now considered herself well and truly vindicated.

"It barely covers my ass," Eden said, trying to tug the dress down a little, only to realise she was just revealing even more cleavage as a result. "Not to mention the rest of me."

Lyla frowned, hauling her in front of a full-length mirror and swatting at her hands to stop her trying to cover herself up. "But you can see you look hot, right? I mean, I know you're not blind – they wouldn't let you drive that ambulance if you were. Is that a little smile? Come on, you know I'm right!"

"It's just … pretty full-on."

"Listen, if you're not going to be comfortable, we'll look for something else. You gotta wear that dress with confidence or it'll wear you. I'm just saying you're a goddamn knockout in it. And Chibs would fucking die."

Eden snorted at that. "But he's not going to see it, is he? I know you think I should, like, show him what he's missing, but …"

But Lyla shook her head. "Nah, screw that. You get something that makes you feel good, doll. For you, not for some man. Not even Chibs."

"All I'll be feeling in this is a draft," Eden pointed out, but there was a smile creeping across her face and she turned to look in the mirror again, taking a deep breath as she twisted and turned. "Fuck it, I'll get it."

"Yay!" Lyla beamed, clapping her hands in approval as she bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. "Now … shoes."


Relieved they had at least managed to get the garage's air con system working again when they'd had the rest of the repairs done following the shooting, Chibs still abandoned any attempt at keeping the paperwork up to scratch in Lyla's absence and headed out of the office, intending to settle himself on the picnic bench for a smoke break – even though he was actually intending to clock off soon for the evening.

The call from Seth, summoning him to the boxing gym, had certainly been unexpected and he hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility of a trap, quite possibly with a beating at the end of it, but he'd decided to go satisfy his curiosity anyway. But strolling through the garage itself stopped him in his tracks, when he clocked the day's assortment of Sons and non-patched mechanics all huddled around the trunk-end of a car.

"Yous do know the engine's down the other bloody end?" he called, bemused by what they were up to – especially when the chatter died suspiciously quick and the group moved to disperse. "Oh, don't let me interrupt yer wee sewing circle, lads."

"Sorry, boss," came a chorus of mutters, but Chibs' curiosity was definitely piqued.

"Ah, come on now, who's gonna let me in on the secret?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced round at the guilty faces before settling on the prospects as easy targets. "Boys?"

"N-nothing, boss," Charlie managed.

"It was Bug who showed us!" Wheels blurted out, caving under the pressure and drawing a few groans and a black look from the intelligence officer.

Chibs cocked his head on one side. "So not nothing then. Unless Bug's some kinda magician, managing to show you something that ain't even there. Is that it, Bug? You some kind o' Houdini now?"

"If I said yes …"

"Hand it over."

Bug slapped his personal smart phone into Chibs' outstretched hand with a sigh. He could have said nothing and left the president to work it out for himself, but he figured the damage was already done.

"Lyla's Instagram," he explained, having long since taken it on himself as intelligence officer to move the club with the times, monitoring social media accounts for anyone connected to the Sons in case of anything cropping up that could breach their security and warning the likes of the croweaters, hang-arounds and the Red Woody staff that there was a line that shouldn't be crossed when it came to posting pictures of club members or premises. "Looks like she's, uh, getting ready for a night out. With Eden."

"I know," Chibs shrugged. "She told me that they were going-"

The words seemed to dry up in his throat when he actually looked at the picture on the screen, taking in the sight of the two women posing for the camera in front of a full-length mirror, presumably in Lyla's bedroom, each of them holding a large wine glass. He was used to seeing Lyla in all manner of bright or sparkly pretty dresses, knew she loved any excuse to get to play dress-up, even if it was just for drinks at the clubhouse. But this, and he knew that he knew fuck all about fashion, was a new look for her – a black dress with a short skirt that looked like it was made out of feathers and a top part that was maybe ninety percent sheer, impossibly high black stilettos covered in tiny silver spikes on her feet, and her make-up heavier than usual with bold, dark red lips. She looked every inch the wee fox he knew she was from persistently having to put nomads with dishonourable intentions in their place.

But it was his girl – his former girl, he had to mentally and ruefully correct himself – that robbed him of speech, in some shimmery gold excuse for a dress and matching heels, her long hair straight and sleek, and her make-up light save for the smoky dark eyes. He'd seen her naked plenty of times, for fuck's sake, but that had been for just him. This, knowing she was out there in the world looking like an actual bloody goddess …

"Fuck me," Chibs managed, crossing himself weakly.

"You got a damn high opinion of yourself if that's the calibre of girl you're turning away, man," TO tutted.

"Did you know she had legs like that? Like, all the way up to …" Rat gestured vaguely to somewhere level with his neck.

"He should do, considering he had 'em wrapped round that pale Scottish ass enough times," Tig grinned, playfully smacking said ass and getting a clip round the ear for his trouble.

"Have you lot no work to be at?" Chibs finally demanded, wiping the stunned look off his face before absently pocketing the phone and continuing on his way, ignoring Bug's half-hearted protest.

"God dammit," the intelligence officer sighed. "If he jerks off over my fucking phone, president or no president, I'm gonna kill him."


"So … were you ever … you know?"

"What, a croweater?" Lyla asked, just about making herself heard over the pumping music in the lively club they'd ended up in, pausing to sip her lurid pink cocktail through a straw. "Nah, I didn't really have much to do with the club until I met Opie. I mean, I used to work for a member's old lady when she ran the old porn studio, but that was about it."

"Otto, right? And … Lorraine? No, Luann!"

"Two points. You know your Samcro history. And yet you still didn't run a mile."

"Maybe I should have," Eden shrugged, after a long thoughtful moment of stirring her own drink. "You and Chibs are pretty close …" But she cringed when she heard how that sounded, back-tracking immediately. "Shit, sorry. I know there's nothing like that going on now and it shouldn't matter about the past – I was just curious, but you don't have to say any-"

"Damn, girl, chill," the laidback blonde chuckled. "It's okay. I get why you'd want to know. And no, for the record, I've never hooked up with Chibs. Although, in the spirit of full disclosure … something did happen once, but it was a mistake. I was in such a bad place and he was just being so kind. He could have taken advantage and he didn't. I've never forgotten that."

"What happened?"

"I, uh … I got caught up with some guys when I was still doing porn. It was after Op and I needed the money. But they didn't tell me it was torture porn," Lyla said, her face darkening at the still painful memory.

"Oh my god, Lyla," Eden said, shocked at that. "Jesus, how is that even a thing?"

"Trust me, doll, you don't want to know some of the things that get guys off. So anyway, I won't go into the details, but they basically beat me, cut me up, forced me … Just really rough shit I'd never been into. My porn career was all fluff, real soft stuff, lot of girl-on-girl. I was so scared. I had no idea how far they'd go. But I managed to get out of there and the club took care of it. Never saw those guys again. Chibs was the one who patched me up. He was so sweet. Asked if I'd prefer if he got Gemma or one of the other girls, but actually … I just felt safe with him. I was a mess, all tears and blood and bruises – so, of course, I stupidly threw myself at him. I dunno what I was thinking. I don't think I was, I just wanted the comfort. I wanted Opie, but he wasn't there and Chibs was. Poor Chibs," she said, trying to force a smile. "He turned me down gently."

"Yeah," Eden sighed. "He's good at that."

Reaching out to squeeze her hand in sympathy, Lyla shook off reminiscing and drained her glass before encouraging Eden to do the same. "No moping tonight, honey – let's dance."

So they did. Well into the early hours, hemmed in by the crowd on the hot and sweaty dancefloor. Which was all well and good until the wandering hands of some cocky guy who'd clearly never been told no found their way under the short hem of Eden's dress as it rode up her bare thighs.

Twice she tried to deter him without making a scene. Third time around, fully realising through the fog of intoxication the exact path his fingers were trying to take, she punched him in the face.

That was when all hell broke loose.


"I'm calling Seth," Eden managed, fumbling with her phone and starting to really regret knocking back the cocktails. And prosecco. And tequila.

"Don't tell your brother, Eden!" Lyla scolded, grabbing it out of her hands. "He'll think I'm a bad influence …"

"So?" Eden demanded, her hazy green eyes suddenly wide at the thought of what that might mean. "Lyla! Have you got the hots for my brother?"

"Why?" she shrugged innocently. "Would that bother you?"

"I'd be more worried about it bothering his wife."

Lyla's jaw dropped. "Jesus Christ, does every guy in this goddamn town have a secret wife? Ugh, I'm calling Chibs – oh look, you still have his number in your phone – I wonder why … Chibby! It is not your little lost love, but you know I love you too- Ow, she just hit me! That's the kinda violence that got us in this mess in the first place, Eden Moore … Chibby, please can you get on your white horse and come rescue us? We kinda maybe sort of got arrested … Don't shout at me! I'm hanging up, stop shouting! Bye!"

Eden tilted her head back against the wall with a groan.

"He's coming to get us," Lyla said brightly. "Hey, look on the bright side - now he'll get to see your dress."