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

November 2007

Sara woke up groaning at the throbbing in her head. She distantly remembered Happy bringing her back to his place and letting her collapse into his bed. She took a peek under the blankets and saw she was in just her panties.

"For the record, you did that. Not me. You were very resistant to wearing clothes." She turned towards the hoarse voice and saw him leaning against the bedroom door frame shirtless with basketball shorts barely hanging on his hips.

"Can't say I minded much." He admitted sipping from a steaming mug in one hand. Memories of her topless body pressing up on him all night in her drunken attempts to cuddle made him clear his throat absently.

He nodded his head wordlessly towards the side table where she saw two ibuprofen and a glass of water. She dramatically took them and collapsed onto her back.

"Gotta learn your limit." He stated gruffly.

"Thanks dad." She snapped sarcastically, closing her eyes to block out the sunlight.

"If you didn't act like a child I wouldn't have to treat you like one." He shot back. She groaned loudly and pulled the blankets up over her head in annoyance only to have them yanked down almost immediately, her arms covering her chest in a half-attempt at modesty.

"Cut the attitude. You're the one who was trying to get some hangarounds to fuck you like a desperate whore. Then you crawled into my bed. If anything you should be thanking me for not fucking you into the mattress like you and I both wanted." He rasped standing over her.

She opened one eye at this and scanned his body. She prepared a sassy remark but was distracted by dangerously low shorts revealing his cut hips and abdomen. A flirty smile came to her lips as her gaze swept his tattoos and the light dusting of dark hair leading down his belly. He rolled his eyes before turning away grumbling something about her being 'such a fucking child'.

She couldn't help but think he was cute—yes, cute—when he was putting her in her place, coffee in hand. It was by far the most domestic thing she had ever seen him do. It was weird to see him so relaxed and…normal?… when she knew he had likely killed someone the night before. She watched his firm ass move as he walked from the room and sighed. He was so hot.

She reflected on the previous night in silence wincing as she remembered that she had, in fact, thrown herself at a bunch of hangarounds. How mortifying... That's worse than Prospects. The memories of using Kozik to make Happy jealous returned after that. It hadn't been her intention when she found herself in Kozik's lap, but once she saw Happy glower in reaction she had fed off his agitation.

Jason had always said that she lashed out when she was upset. That was the reason her father always had to rein her in, he impulsive need to push back when she felt cornered or hurt. When she was a teenager Jason had been able to diffuse the situation a bit, shielding her when he could from the public humiliation that their father loved so much but that had diminished over the years until eventually it was Jason dealing out the punishment.

Jason.

Lord knows what state he would be in when she eventually made it back to San Bernardino. She knew he wasn't going to take the news in stride and honestly didn't know how he was going to react; she wouldn't put it past him to just black out his ink and ride off into the sunset. They both shared a flare for the dramatic.

With a sigh, she got up and fished a shirt out of Happy's drawers. She pulled it on as she made her way to the bathroom to clean up her face. Fixing her hair was hopeless so she pulled it up into a messy bun. Curiosity got the best of her and—after a quick glance down the empty hallway—she opened his medicine cabinet. It was meticulously organized. Toothpaste. Toothbrush. Floss. Razor. Shaving cream. Deodorant (she sniffed it—it smelled rugged and clean and sexy). Over-the-counter medicines. Condoms. A few prescription bottles: Vicodin, Robaxin, and… Fluoxetine?

"What would you be needing Prozac for?" She mumbled quietly to herself before closing the cabinet and padding barefoot down the hallway into the living room.

She hadn't had time to really look around last time she was over. It was a very basic apartment, not much furniture and nothing on the walls besides a SOA reaper flag pinned behind the TV stand. She found Hap smoking out on a small terrace. She slid the door open and he glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes flicking down to the hem of the shirt. It barely brushed the tops of her thighs.

"Shouldn't be out here dressed like that." He huffed. She shrugged and smiled.

"Somehow I doubt the neighbors will say anything, dad." She mocked lightly, knowing any neighbors he had were probably terrified of him.

He snorted before running his fingertips up the inside of her thigh until they disappeared under the hem of his shirt. "Paternal wasn't where I was going with that." She sucked in a quiet breath as a finger skimmed the fabric between her legs. She hummed in encouragement.

Instead, he dropped his hand and offered her a cigarette as he took a drag of his own. She lit it and sat in the chair across the cheap patio table from him, trying to ignore the uncomfortable dampness soaking into her panties and the tingle in her belly.

"I'm sorry." She whispered after a moment. He eyed her in silence, giving her nothing to work with. He was going to make it hard on her. Fine.

"You're right," she continued, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did last night. It was mortifying and I'm glad you were there to stop me." She admitted and blew out the rest of the smoke in her lungs. He nodded once in acknowledgement.

"I just don't know what to do right now. SAMDINO has literally been my whole life. They're my family." She added fiddling with the lighter anxiously. He blew out smoke before responding.

"Not having a charter don't make them less of family. They ain't dead."

"Yet." She grumbled negatively. He rolled his eyes.

"Listen. My guess is running a whorehouse wasn't your dream. You got a fancy degree and shit, right?" He pointed out flicking the ash off his cigarette. She nodded with a curious look on her face, as if it had never occurred to her that she could actually use her degree.

"Let the club handle your brother. You probably shouldn't be around him for a while anyway." He advised pointedly and her face contorted in irritation.

"He's not that bad."

"Not yet. Wait 'til they tell him he's a fucking failure. Then he'll really ream you." Happy rasped equally irritated.

"He's not a failure!" She defended instinctively and Happy made a sound of disagreement deep in his chest but didn't say anything.

"So where am I going to go if not back home?" She asked dramatically. His eyes narrowed slightly at her theatrics but he didn't comment on them.

"Told you. Stay in a Charming." She scoffed in response and shook her head.

"Not a chance. There's nothing for me here." The dark look in his eyes was impossible to read but whatever it said made her swallow thickly before continuing. "I'll stay until they figure out what to do with the SAMDINO business then I'll decide what to do." She amended with a shrug. She looked at him critically.

"What about you?" She asked folding her legs up into her chair and his eyes dropped to her bare thighs and the sliver of dark lace peeking out between them. His eyes rose again to meet hers and gave her a questioning look in response to her inquiry.

"You've been spending a lot of time in Charming. You thinking of transferring?" He made a discontented sound she interpreted as an implication that it wasn't any of her business but she just watched him in patient silence as he flicked off ash once more. He felt her eyes boring into him relentlessly and ran a hand over his bald head in annoyance.

"I'm thinking of going Nomad." He finally stated. Her eyebrows rose a little in surprise.

"My ma is in Bakersfield. She lives with my aunt 'cause she's sick." He added, mentally kicking himself for just laying his personal business out for some bitch. She made a sound of acknowledgement in her throat and continued studying him in silence. Happy didn't say anything, but he was grateful she didn't push him further on the topic. He finished his cigarette and took a sip of his now-cold coffee before looking over at the woman across from him.

She looked a mess with her blonde hair piled up on her head but the color was starting to return to her cheeks so he assumed the ibuprofen had kicked in. He couldn't deny that she still looked irresistible smoking lazily while curled up in his baggy black Reaper Crew t-shirt. The level of comfort he felt struck a chord as he reflected on the ease of their conversation despite the weighty topics. He briefly mused on the fact that he had developed something of a rapport with this little blonde and that he didn't completely hate having her in his space.

Despite her melodramatic nature and petulant streak—which he was sure was a result of being overindulged by the club her whole life—she really was something special. His fondness for her was starting to run deeper than he was willing to admit and his heart clenched at the thought of her leaving to go clean up her brother's mess.

"Come on, kid. I'll take you back. Got shit to do." He stated interrupting the comfortable silence and offered her a hand to stand. She giggled a little at the gesture but accepted it, following him inside. He wordlessly offered her a pair of basketball shorts and she blushed but accepted them, grateful she wouldn't have to put on her tight clothes from the night before.

She gathered her things opting to go barefoot and carry her heels—cringing again at her actions the night before— as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt. She noticed that he perfectly straightened the bedding prior to leaving. Interesting.

He grabbed his kutte and tucked his gun inside before opening the door for her and leading her out to his bike.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Life got busy. 3 Just a short little update :) enjoy