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

Content Warning: Language, references to violence, depictions of consensual sexual acts

October 2007

Happy was in a foul mood today. Juice and Half-Sack couldn't seem to shut up about Sara and it was grating Hap's last nerve. He hadn't seen her much but heard through the grapevine that she was, in fact, staying with Gemma and Clay. He chucked the wrench he was using into the toolbox loudly, getting their attention.

"Can you two shut up about this bitch for five fucking minutes? We get it." He gestured at Half-Sack, "You think she's hot." He gestured at Juice, "You think she's hot." He gestured to himself, "I think she's hot. But some of us are trying to get some fucking work done, so get back to work. If you can't find any, I'll find some for you to do." With a menacing glare he returned to his work and both chastised men stayed quiet. He didn't understand what the big fucking deal was about this broad.

Everyone was getting themselves all twisted up over this princess like she fucking mattered. She wasn't even that great. Sure, she was a fucking smoke show, but she was still the daughter of the biggest rat in Sons history. Who knew if this bitch could be trusted? And while he knew she was there for her noble fucking cause to protect women but if her own damn charter couldn't protect them then it wasn't really his fault.

He sighed and rubbed his head aggressively, annoyed with his own dismissal of the transgressions against the girls. He knew it was a big deal. And knew it took some big fucking balls to drive up to SAMCRO and petition Clay for retribution.

He didn't understand her: she was a sweet little thing who was deliciously obedient to all of the other men in the club, and then to him was total cunt or copping attitude like she had a fucking say in club matters. He couldn't deny he wanted to shut her up by pushing his cock down her throat but every time he seriously considered taking her to bed, she was back to being a total bitch. Then an hour later she'd be flashing him 'come fuck me' eyes. What was the fucking point?

His irritation truly lied with the fact that she had been icy the whole time she had been back and it rubbed him the wrong way—sure, he had started it with the comment about the rat but it was easier just to let her be pissed with him and keep her away than have to deal with….whatever it was that he feeling any time she was sweet. She confused him, messed with his head.

He couldn't make up his mind as to whether she knew what she was doing to him. All he knew was she was trouble for him, and he just wanted her tight little ass to get the fuck back to San Bernardino before she got any further into his head.

Tig and Bobby had both offered the unsolicited advice that maybe he should try to give her a little bit more respect in an effort to get some back. Apparently, some girls were into that.

Then again, what did he care?

Did he really need the respect of some bitch?

Just 'cause it equally pissed him off and turned him on to see her bowing down to Clay, didn't mean he needed her to bow down to him. It's just that she should have some goddamn respect for all of the Sons.

Happy finally gave up working around seven and headed to the showers in the clubhouse. The communal bathrooms fucking grossed him out with their mildewed grout and god knows what else, but he didn't feel like heading to the dingy apartment he stayed in when he was in town just to come back for the party later that night.

Clay wanted to throw a welcome party for Sara. Like that bitch pissed sunshine and money or something. He internally scoffed at himself knowing he was being critical. Whatever. A bitch is a bitch.

Hours later, Happy found himself five beers deep and in the ring with Tig, both bleeding by the time Bobby broke it up. The two hugged it out and made for the bar.

"Well, well. If it ain't the Lady of Honor," Tig said zeroing in on Sara where she was talking to some girl. She glanced over at them and eyed their injured faces critically. Happy opened his mouth to make a comment about her being prissy about the blood when she grabbed the dirty rag off the bar and tossed it wordlessly to Tig before continuing her conversation with the girl.

He should have known better—she grew up in the club; of course a little blood didn't faze her. His dick twitched in response. Fuck. This wasn't good.

"Aww come on baby, aren't you gonna stitch me up?" Tig pleaded as he plopped between the girl and Sara. Happy begrudgingly took the stool on the other side of Sara and flagged the croweater to get him a drink.

"No. Because I'm not a doctor," Sara sassed. The girl she had been talking with giggled in response. Her attitude only encouraged Tig.

"No but I know you can do some stitches. I know you patched up Kozik when he was down there helping your brother out with some shit." Happy perked up at the sound of his Tacoma brother's name but didn't speak up.

"First of all, that hardly counts. It was like 5 stitches and they looked like shit—"

"—I ain't trying to win a beauty contest—" Tig interjected as she continued without acknowledging his response,

"Secondly, you don't need stitches. It looks like the bleeding already stopped," she said eying his split lip and cut cheek. Tig huffed dramatically and ordered a drink from the croweater as she delivered Happy's.

"When'd you see Kozik?" Happy finally rasped. Sara looked over at him, surprise evident on her features.

"Umm. About a year ago. He was just down to help my brother with some business," she answered hesitantly.

"Your brother sure seems to need a lot of help running his charter," Happy countered before he could bite it back. Her blue eyes narrowed viciously.

"Well I hardly think it's any different than you being on loan to Charming," she sharply retorted before turning her attention back to the other girl. Well, there was that cold shoulder again. And, to be fair, she had a point.

"Hey," he quickly said grabbing her arm, startled by his own involuntary response. This girl was just a bitch; why did he feel like he owed her an apology? She turned to look at him expectantly, ignoring Tig and the girl's loud conversation behind her.

He just looked back at her silently for a moment unable to get an apology out and finally she rolled her eyes, grabbed her drink, and walked away with attitude rolling off her in thick waves. He watched her ass sway in her tight black shorts. She was wearing a pair of fucking sexy black patent leather heels with straps around her delicate ankles.

He could see them shining as she made her way across the clubhouse. Her long hair was down and rested in waves down her back. Happy found his eyes tracing down her lean body covered in turquoise lace tank. Through her tank he could see that she had some dark ink on her mid-back but couldn't make out what it was through the delicate material and he immediately was overwhelmed by the desire to know what it was. She was in simple outfit, but it clung tight to her slim shape, and his eyes kept getting pulled down her fit legs to her shiny fucking shoes.

"So much for her being fucking respectful," Happy grumbled to himself watching her walk up and join Chibs and Bobby's conversation. Her posture relaxed as Chibs threw an arm around her shoulders and Happy heard the Scotsman laugh loudly at something she said, his brother tossing a look in his own direction. His eyes narrowed knowing that she had said something about him. That was just fucking rude.

Hap barely suppressed a jump when he felt a pair of nails run lightly down his bare back, pulling him back to the moment. Fuck, he needed to quit obsessing over this girl. She was dulling his senses.

"Hey baby… want me to clean that up?" The croweater purred into his ear. It took him a moment to remember his eyebrow was split and blood was drying to his face. Without another thought he nodded to the blonde next to him and smirked seductively.

All the croweaters were like that: easy and forward. Zero work on his part. Unfortunately, the ease of it all wasn't as satisfying as it once was. He was bored with everything they did; the way they scrambled and fell all over themselves to make him happy, to do whatever his cock desired. Sure, he still took her into the communal bathroom and fucked her against a stalldoor but the act alone just wasn't doing it for him. After blocking out the fake shrieking coming from the blonde bent over before him, he finished with more effort than should be required—finally having to imagine he was fucking a specific blonde.

He left the croweater in the bathroom to clean herself up and, after washing the blood from his face, he returned to the party in a dark mood, annoyed with himself for needing to picture her. No matter how much he tried to push her away, she was still in his head. He quickly ordered a beer and two shots of whiskey.

"Really hitting that firewater, aren't you?" He heard her teasing voice before Sara slid up next to him at the bar. This girl was going to give him whiplash with her mood changes. He couldn't help but feel a little smug about the fact that not five minutes ago he had unloaded his balls thinking about her, and here she was now to chat him up. Maybe he should have just unloaded himself on her face. He pushed down his haughty attitude and replaced it with his usually mask of irritability.

"None of your business," he rasped sparing her a sideways glance. She shrugged and turned away from him. Why'd she turn away? Why didn't she fight back? That's what they did now, right? He'd be an ass; she'd be a bitch. It was their thing now.

"Rum and coke?" Sara asked the girl behind the bar before facing Juice on her other side. He listened to their conversation while feigning interest in the label on his bottle. Apparently, they had been in contact regularly over the last two years.

"How're things with Ryan?" Juice asked quietly. Happy vaguely remembered his name as the boyfriend. She was still with this fucking clown? Then what was with the wild sex eyes she had been occasionally shooting his way?

"We're done I guess." Juice must have given her a look because she scoffed before continuing, "I'm serious this time. I mean he's gonna be in for 10 years at least; twenty-five at most. He doesn't want me waiting around for that." He could hear the sadness in her voice.

So her man got nabbed in the SAMDINO raid. Skip got the boyfriend locked up. Happy was sure he could help her work through some of her Daddy issues.

"Hellllloooo?" A hand waved in front of his face and his eyes shot up from the bottle before him. The croweater behind the bar looked at him like he was nuts and looked to Juice and Sara who were both looking at him in amusement. Happy looked back down at his empty bottle and realized he had completely peeled the label off into little pieces on the bartop. Slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable with the mess, he swept it away quickly.

Based on the tone of the girl in front of him, he must have been so zoned out enough that he hadn't heard her, "I said, you want another, baby?" she asked again slowly—as if he were retarded or something—and his eyes narrowed fiercely at her tone. She swallowed a little and just handed him a bottle, scurrying away.

"Stop scaring the help," Sara's voice cut through his thoughts again. Agitated, he turned to face her.

"The fuck do you care?" he rasped lowly. Juice looked between them nervously.

"You just don't need to be such a dick. You were the one zoned out like a fucking idiot."

"And she's just a bitch who don't know her place. Sound familiar? Maybe your girls wouldn't be in so much trouble if you led by example," he grumbled taking a sip of his beer. He could feel the tension rolling off her and she stared at his profile. He stared straight ahead and pretended to be interested in something on the other side of the room.

"Real nice, Happy," she spat and got up walking away.

He shrugged in response, "Later, darlin'."

He knew it was a cheap shot. He didn't understand what pushed him to say those things to her. He couldn't figure out why he felt the need to provoke her.

Juice watched him for a moment before leaving without a word. Good riddance. The kid was pussy, following that bitch around like she was his woman. The kid had to know she was never gonna fuck him. A girl like that didn't fuck boys, she got fucked by men. He'd happily be the one to give it to her if she'd just curb that fucking attitude. He suddenly itched to show her a fierce goddamn lesson in respect.

Instead of acting on it, Happy reached over the bar and grabbed the whiskey bottle before dragging the closest blonde into the bathroom and pushed her to her knees in front of him.

She barely paused before undoing his belt as he took a drink from the bottle. Fucking reliable croweaters; she knew her place was on her knees. No questions asked and definitely no attitude.

"Yeah, just like that," he groaned as she took as much of him in her mouth as she could handle. It wasn't enough of what he wanted. Her mouth was too dry and she really couldn't take much of him in her throat without gagging. But, a blowjob was a blowjob and he really, really wanted to take the edge off. His spat with Sara had him agitated and aggressive and horny as fuck.

One of his hands held the bottle and supported his weight against the stall as he leaned over her, and the other was wrapped in her honey hair guiding her movements. Looking down at her, he found himself wishing her hair was lighter. Wishing her orangey skin was fair. Wishing her hazel eyes were blue.

Not again.

He shook the thoughts from his head and closed his eyes, letting out a particularly loud groan as she gripped his balls. Better. It didn't take long after that to shoot his load down her eager throat.

When he finally returned to the party, he couldn't stop his eyes from searching for her. Sara wasn't with Juice or at the bar. A voice next to him answered his mental question.

"She left."

"Who?" Tig shot him a look. Okay, so playing dumb wasn't gonna cut it.

"I saw you with her earlier. At the bar. Eyefucking each other while pretending to hate each other," Tig responded eyeing a few croweaters that walked past them, "The fuck's going on between you two? You guys got along great last time she came around. You fuck her and not call her back or some shit?"

"It ain't like that. She's just a bitch, brother. Plain and simple," Happy stated with a shrug earning a scoff from Tigger.

"Whatever you say, man."

"She's a disrespectful bitch who don't know her place," Happy elaborated with more emphasis.

"Maybe if you weren't a complete fucking asshole to her all the time she'd be nicer," Tig pointed out.

"This where you tell me not to fuck her?" Happy asked sarcastically, dropping his bullshit naive act.

"Nah brother. I'd fuck her in a heartbeat if she'd let me into that honeytrap. Just remember that she's too pretty for an ugly, old, pissy sonuvabitch like yourself so if you get a chance, you better fucking take it because a girl like that won't be on the market for long."

Tig excused himself to shout after some of the pornstars who giggled and shrieked back as he wrangled himself a few. Happy's immediate reaction was that he didn't want to take her off the market, he just wanted to fuck her hard to get her out of his system. He shook his head and went to join a round of pool but knew that his evening was winding down as Tig's word echoed in his mind. A girl like that won't be on the market for long. He was surprised by the sudden feeling of a possessive caged animal pacing deep inside of him.

Holy fucking shit.

He was fucking jealous.

Happy was jealous.

Author Note: Interesting. What are your thoughts? Review and let me know! Thank you!