I do not own any characters from Sons of Anarchy. I own Sara and any other original characters.

Content Warning: Language, references to drug use,

October 2007

"We'll take it to the table," Clay said after a pregnant pause. She released the breath she was holding and nodded. She tried to subtly wipe her clammy palms on her skinny jeans.

"That's all I ask, Clay… Maybe a bed for the night," she added with a joking smile, trying to lighten the mood. Clay nodded with a smile and waved her off, calling church in 15 minutes. Everyone dispersed as she made her way to sit on a barstool letting out a shaky breath.

"So darlin', how is that brother of yours?" Jax asked, taking a seat next to her after grabbing them both beers. She rolled her eyes at the thought of her brother.

"You know Jason. Too proud to drag his ass here, but he would steal that crown off your pretty, blonde head if he didn't think he'd lose his own in the process," she teased ruffling his long hair.

"And how's the Rat?" a gravelly voice asked from behind her. She stiffened and turned to face the man who spoke, appraising him in silence. Happy towered over her ominously–she didn't recall him being that tall— as his dark eyes narrowed on her. She remembered those eyes, although they were significantly more wary now.

If his question had startled her, she gave nothing away. In fact, her face appeared completely unfazed, almost bored, by his inquisition. Happy noted that warmth in her eyes was gone, hidden now behind a guarded façade. That was new. Looks like the little girl was all grown up but, he supposed, two years was a long time in the MC life.

The tension between them set a completely different tone than their previous encounter. No longer was there a playful, sexy intonation. It was accusatory and angry, and she couldn't completely grasp why it was being channeled towards her. She supposed she was an easy target. Jax huffed next to her and opened his mouth to respond but she beat him to it.

"I wouldn't know. I haven't spoken to him," she answered haughtily but honestly, trying to recover from his unexpected barb. She cleared her throat and took a long drink from her beer, critically eyeing the man in front of her. She didn't like the way he was glaring in her direction. It felt personal and she sure as hell didn't do anything to deserve that. Hell, she barely knew the man.

Sara stared into Happy's dark eyes for a moment longer before turning her attention back to Jax, effectively dismissing him. Happy's brows rose at this disrespectful action; so much for that purebred deference. He stood behind her for a moment before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Woman gives a mean cold shoulder," Tig said knowingly, dragging Happy away, "Probably learned it from Gem."

"She's fucking disrespectful," Happy grumbled, watching her across the clubhouse, sitting at the bar like she fucking owned it.

"Down in SB, she's got power now. She's probably the only thing keeping SAMDINO together these days, honestly. She don't got time for making sure punks like us like her; she's in a different league. But you act like a dick; she'll act like a bitch. It's that simple." Tig responded with a shrug passing his whiskey bottle to Happy. Happy took a long swig and passed the bottle back, enjoying the burning in his throat as he took in Tig's words. He begrudgingly supposed there might be some truth in his words; Tig seemed to know a little bit more about women than he did, having been married and shit. Then again, divorced and all –maybe not.

"Don't you let Tig go telling you that shit. That girl is a sweetheart, dealt shit men in a shit chapter who, apparently, do a shit job protecting their women. She's just putting up a strong front," Bobby interjected, looking over his glasses at the two men, "We got church."

"I never said she ain't a sweet girl. I'm just saying she can be a cold bitch. Maybe I like that in a broad..." Tig defended, following Bobby to chapel. Happy threw one more look over his shoulder at the blonde. Jax was hugging her as she slid off her barstool onto her feet, her smile had fallen off her face and she suddenly looked tired. There was a small semblance, a sliver, of the girl he had met years ago.

Maybe Bobby had been onto something with that whole 'putting up a front' thing. He couldn't help but regret his comment about her father. Clearly, she had changed in the years between their encounters, built up a tougher skin or some shit, but even he knew it was a low blow to throw that in her face.

Why the fuck did he even give a shit?

Happy shook the thoughts from his head as he lit a cigarette and followed his brothers into the chapel. He was technically SAMTAC so he had no real voting power at the SAMCRO table, but he was allowed in the chapel for most club matters. He almost never gave any input knowing his place was in Tacoma and he had no business trying to sway the mother charter, but if he could offer help on behalf of his chapter then he would.

Sara sat at the bar gazing around the clubhouse filled with memories of her last visit when she had ended up camped out at the clubhouse. She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered Happy pressed against her on the couch, his fingers dancing across her bare skin beneath her shirt.

She was still in contact with Juice regularly and had seen Koz again about a month before her life erupted into chaos. He was still sober; she was proud of him. Then her father had turned rat and betrayed the whole club to Uncle Sam. After Skip got his government payday, he had skipped town into WitSec. She had been too busy with the fallout to check in on her recovered friend. Hell, her life had exploded: the SAMDINO President had been arrested along with almost half the club—Ryan included.

Her fingers reflexively went to her left ring finger but found it empty, as it had been for about four months now. She had pushed hard to stay with him, but Ryan made it clear that he didn't want her waiting around for him, not with the kind of time he was facing.

With a sigh Sara forced herself back into the present to walk around the clubhouse touching various pictures and paraphernalia. She looked at the wall of mugshots smirking at a few of the humorous ones. Unable to sit still, she went behind the bar and started packing away the clean glasses as she wondered how Church was going.

She needed a win to get some shine back to the family name, but more importantly, she needed justice for these girls. She knew what it was like to be a woman in the MC world; if she weren't fighting for them, no one would be. Unless you were an Old Lady, you were disposable. Something to be used until you were no longer entertaining or young or beautiful, then you were tossed aside.

"Oh, you don't need to do that." Some lean kid interrupted her as he set down the boxes that he had carried in from the back. She smiled gently at him, remembering him as the kid that Clay had banished to the garage when she had come in.

"It's fine. I need something to keep busy."

He nodded awkwardly and joined her behind the bar, unloading the liquor in the boxes.

"So, you're the new Prospect?" she said with a knowing smile. He shook his head sheepishly.

"No, I'm hopin' to start Prospecting soon though."

"Good luck," she whispered conspiratorially, "I'm Sara by the way."

"Kip."

He had a special kind of manic innocence about him that she knew the club would strip him of, but he already had a crazy look in his eye. She'd always wondered if the guys coming into the club were already a little nuts, or if the club made them that way. She had no illusions about what the club was capable of and what that could do to a man.

"Well?" she anxiously asked as Clay approached the bar, she absently handed him a beer when he reached the counter. He took his sweet time taking a seat and long drink from the bottle.

"We'll look into these creeps. See what Juicy-boy comes up with. Then we will make a decision. We got a lot of our own problems. Retaliation for a charter that can't seem to handle its own shit is pretty low on our list and we can't get too close to SB with everything that's been going on; don't want get on anyone's radar." He gave her another pointed look and she nodded, accepting his answer immediately. Still, she couldn't help but feel the doubt bubble up inside. This was something that should only take an afternoon. Were they stalling on purpose, to send a message?

Happy was immediately aroused by her submission to Clay. Why couldn't she be like that with him?

"Thank you, Clay." She breathed out, resting her forearms on the bar drawing Happy's attention out of his submission-related daydream. The soft swell of her breasts cupped delicately in black lace were visible down her loose sheer top if he leaned just right.

"You might want to be a little more subtle staring down her shirt." Jax's joking voice pulled Happy from his 'glance' as he walked past on his way to the bar.

"Half-Sack! What're you doing putting the Bernadino Princess to work?!" Tig shouted as he took a seat next to Jax. Sara smiled and rolled her eyes, throwing the rag she was holding at Tig. Happy slowly walked up, taking a seat next to Tig.

"You know I hate that nickname!"

"You used to love it, doll," he pointed out, taking the beer she held out to him.

"That's because I was eleven!"

"And my, my. You aren't eleven anymore, little girl. Come on baby, I promise I'll be real gentle for your first time," Tig said with a signature Trager look over. She scoffed at him and absently passed a beer to Happy, who only grunted in acknowledgement as he took it.

"God, you are so gross Tig," she remarked with a laugh. As she and Tig continued their banter, Happy noticed her laugh was warm and genuine, and that she crinkled her nose a little when Tig said something particularly lascivious. This was the woman he remembered and, goddammit, he could feel himself being drawn to her again.

Eventually Piney wandered in and the old man greeted Sara jovially before taking a seat next to Happy. Piney engaged him in some conversation to which he responded minimally, busy keeping his eyes on the girl happily tending bar.

Sitting up close he could see the outline of her body under her clothes. Her jeans clung tightly to her firm young body. Her pert ass stuck out every time she turned around or leaned on the bar. Her stomach looked flat and he could see that she had a small waist which curved out nicely into a purely feminine silhouette.

Everything was as he had remembered. His previous peek down her shirt showed a respectable amount of cleavage but he still couldn't imagine that it was any more than a mild handful per tit – minimal compared to what he was used to.

When she turned away from him, he could see that she had a strong back, with impeccable posture and some light muscle tone in her arms. She was definitely a fine female specimen.

He had to clear his throat and look away as she leaned particularly far over the bar resulting in dark thoughts surrounding her in similar positions filled his mind again.

"She's quite the fox," Piney whispered into his ear with a coarse chuckle, "Bet she's a hellcat in the bedroom." Happy couldn't help but smirk into his drink as Piney's words echoed his own thoughts.

"Piney…" Jax interjected with a distressed eye roll, "You could be her grandfather."

"That don't change the fact she's a knockout. I'm old, I ain't blind," Piney tersely responded. Happy just chuckled to himself.

"Got herself an old man?" Happy asked, wincing at his own question.

"Not that I'm aware of. But I don't keep up with those SAMDINO pricks. I tell ya, those boys are an embarrassment to the club. I been trying to get Clay to shut 'em down for years. That father of hers really fucked up. He's lucky he snuck away like the slithery little bitch he is. They only thing they got going for them down there is their fine fillies. Somethin' in their water, I tell ya. Ain't nothing like the loose pussy we got around here," Piney commented with a sigh of longing. Happy laughed and silently prayed that the reaper got him before he got old enough to wax romantic about pussy.

"So, you sticking around, honey?" Clay asked loudly, interrupting multiple conversations. She bit her lip and shifted her weight. Happy was beginning to see it as a nervous tick.

She cleared her throat before answering, gently looking Clay in the eye with respect. Again, Happy couldn't help but be blown away by her reverence for the President. Man, when that bitch was on point, she was on point. He felt his dick twitch in response.

"Um, if it's okay with you, I'd like to see this through. I can't go back to those girls without a solid answer." She waited for Clay's reaction. He nodded with a grin.

"Well I know my wife will be very happy to see you, hon. She's always thought of you like family. Let me call her up and see where she wants to keep you." Sara smiled with relief and Happy didn't miss the excitement in her eyes at the mention of Gemma's adoration for her. He got the feeling she was a bit of a people pleaser. He had certainly come up with quite a few ways she could please him.

"Come on man, we got shit to do," Chibs said quietly, interrupting Happy's thoughts. He nodded and followed the Scotsman out.

Author Note: Nothing like a little bit of tension. Thoughts? Let me know in a review! Thank you!