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

January 2008

Happy pulled his bike onto the lot as his mind raced. What the hell just happened?

Now that his Xanax had kicked in, he knew he had overreacted but so had she. She was always overreacting; he couldn't help it that she pushed all of his buttons. Still, he couldn't erase the image of her closing herself off to him yet again. He walked into the clubhouse silently vowing to call her tomorrow morning. She'd be rational by then. They were both just tired and wound up. He was sure of it.

He collapsed onto a stool and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Welcome back, brother. Thought you'd be spending some time balls-deep in your girl now that her brother is gone." Tig greeted, taking the seat next to him.

"She's not my girl." He gruffed out defensively, not believing his own words but sick of the guys acting like he was wifed-up. Tig waved a hand dismissively.

"So you wouldn't care if I filled her up with some Tigger juice?" Happy glared at Tig and the brunette only gave him a pointed look. "That's what I thought. Hey man, we all like her. You could do worse, just own up to."

"We had a fight." Happy admitted begrudgingly, feeling like a total pussy.

"Happens. She kick you out?"

"We don't live together." Happy bristled.

"Don't me she can't kick you out, brother." Hap nodded once for confirmation and took a long drink from the bottle.

"Well they do that sometimes. The make-up sex will be dynamite though. She's got that tight little body that's just begging to be punished." Tig stated dreamily, ignoring the steely look Happy shot his way.

"Yo, Tig. You're up." Juice shouted making his way over and handing him the pool cue.

"It'll be fine, brother. Bitches are crazy but they get over shit pretty quick." Tig finished matter-of-factly and taking the cue from Juice.

"Why are bitches crazy?" Juice asked, grabbing himself a beer from behind the bar.

"Sara and Hap got in a fight." Tig stated loudly despite Happy's groan. He didn't need his business aired out.

" 'Bout what?" Juice asked curiously.

"She wants a boyfriend. I ain't that. So she got mad and kicked me out, shoutin' 'bout how're we're done and shit. She'll be over it by tomorrow." He mumbled and took another angry drink from the bottle. Juice gave him a hesitant look and Happy's eyes narrowed on the Puerto Rican.

"What?" he snapped. Juice shook his head.

"Nothin' man."

"Spill what you know, you little shit." Tig stated with an eye roll. "She tell you something while you two were braiding each other's hair?" Juice rolled his eyes and flipped Tig the bird before turning back to Happy.

"Listen bro, I'm sure it's nothing." Juice started weakly. Happy's eyes narrowed further and darkened threateningly. "Look. Her and Ryan used to fight all the time. They would break up and get back together a lot. Usually because Ryan was fucking around on her—real obvious shit. Man loved her, but couldn't be discrete to save his damn life. Maybe he just didn't care, I don't know." Happy shrugged in acceptance, not really surprised knowing what he did about Ryan's second girl.

"Anyway, she had a tendency to run off and revenge-fuck other guys when they were broken up, just to try to piss him off. Ryan didn't really care too much when it would happen—he'd sort of brush it off— but she still did it every time, just to remind him that other guys wanted her and she could have any one she wanted, if she wanted." Juice finished quickly as Happy stood up suddenly. "But that was different, man. That was her fiancé. You guys aren't even like… together, you know?" Juice defended but Happy already had his phone out and was dialing her number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. He grunted in frustration and flipped his phone closed as he contemplated heading back over to her apartment.

He grabbed the bottle and took another drink as he redialed. This time it went straight to voicemail. Bitch was screening his calls.

His head was foggy and slow from the alcohol combined with his long ass day and his anxiety attack and their stupid fight, and all he could picture was his girl in the throes of passion as she got fucked from behind by some faceless guy, her face contorted in pleasure mocking him. Image after image of her flashed in his mind—blowing, riding, nails clawing down backs— and he felt his flesh grow hot with anger.

"Hey man, you don't want to claim her; you don't get to tell her she can't fuck other guys." Tig pointed out before narrowly dodging the fist that blew towards his face.

"What the fuck?!" Tig shouted standing quickly and sending his barstool tumbling. Happy puffed his chest aggressively and pushed himself into Tig's face.

"If you wanna fight, let's fight. But don't sucker punch me like a little bitch!" Tig snarled and shoved Happy.

"The fuck is going on over here?" Clay asked sternly walking over. Happy glared at Tig, breathing deeply as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

"Nothing man." Tig dismissed before picking up the stool and stomping off in a huff.

"Happy, I need you to go deal with a Mayan problem." Clay stated, turning his attention to the enforcer who was still clearly seething at Tig. "Sober up and get your shit together." Clay added.

The "Mayan problem" took the rest of the night. Killing the man had relieved some of his tension but he was still wound tight. As he dug a grave in the woods, he tried to talk himself down. He doubted she had immediately gone out and fucked some random guy right after he had left. He'd head over first thing in the morning and make it right.

The loud sounds of his knocks echoed in the silence of early morning. Her car wasn't in the drive and now she wasn't answering the door. He pulled out his phone again and dialed her number.

Hi, you've reached the voicemail of Sara Harris—

"Fuck!" He rasped quietly to himself flipping his phone closed. He had called Kozik already to see if maybe she had run to Tacoma. She hadn't been there, but Koz said he'd keep an ear out for her.

"She just takes off some times, man. She'll be back." Koz had assured.

It wasn't reassuring.

Happy dialed another number.

"Hello?" A groggy Jason answered. Happy heard a sleepy female voice in the background and Jason mumble a 'shut the fuck up, I'm on the phone'.

"You heard from your sister?" Happy rasped.

"No. Why? What's up?" Jason asked, through a yawn.

"Nothing brother. Just got into a disagreement and looks like she took off. Just tryin' to track her down. She ain't answering her phone."

"She'll show up. She does this." Jason answered noncommittally.

"That seems to be the consensus." Happy murmured kicking at a rock. Silence filled the line.

"You check with Kozik? She's gone up to Tacoma before." Jason offered with a sigh. Happy hummed in acknowledgement.

"She ain't there. Ain't with nobody in San Bernardino or Reno or any of the local charters I could track down. Don't know where else to look."

"Maybe she's in Nebraska?" Jason offered, more alert now that he'd had a few minutes to wake up.

"What the fuck's in Nebraska?" Happy asked confused.

"Our mom lives in Omaha...She doesn't usually go there since they don't really talk much but who knows… She and my Ma have some unfinished business to work out so maybe she just took off to deal with that… She gets moody around the holidays about it, so maybe she finally decided to bury the hatchet or some shit. Look, I'll give Sara a call and see if she answers. Then I'll call my Ma, kay? But honestly dude, I know you guys are, like, fucking or whatever but just give her a few days and she'll come home on her own. Don't take it personally." Happy said nothing in response. He hated that everyone kept telling him not to worry or take it personally. That it was somehow okay that she just takes off in the middle of the night to go fuck other guys.

It wasn't lost on him that for someone who had wanted to end things he certainly was spending a lot of energy hunting her down. The thought of her riding a dick flashed through his mind again and he gritted his teeth before hanging up on Jason. There was no way he was gonna let her go around fucking other guys; made him look like some pussy that couldn't keep his girl in line. His girl? Was that what she was? He'd been pushing so hard against it whenever anyone else said it, yet he couldn't stop calling her his in his mind.

A few hours later, Jason called back, assuring him that Sara was, in fact, at their mother's house in Omaha and that she wanted her space and for Happy to stop calling.

Happy was pretty sure there were a few more choice words in there that Jason had omitted. Still, it was comforting to know where she was... She wasn't likely fucking some inbred cornhusking bumpkin.

"So, not that I don't appreciate this visit, but what brings you here, honey? You haven't called in a long time and suddenly you're coming out in the middle of the night." Ivana Campbell—formerly Harris—asked as she placed a steaming mug in front of her youngest child. The Harris children had inherited their mother's coloring with her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Ivana was a Russian immigrant and even now, at forty-four, she had a lingering accent on the edges of her words. When Sara was little, she had always thought her mother's accent was so exotic.

"When you left… Why didn't you bring me or Jase with you?" Sara asked quietly. It was a question that had scratched at her for all of her formative years. Her mother had left when she was ten to move to Omaha, so why hadn't she taken Sara with? What kind of mother lets her daughter grow up in a world that treats women like property to be passed around or shown off like a prize?

"I wanted to—was going to—but at that point your brother adamantly wanted to stay and your father made it very clear what he would do to me if I tried to bring you with me."

"So you didn't even try?" Sara pleaded weakly. Her mother's features softened.

"Honey, I wouldn't have been able to support myself and a child. I was a highschool dropout with no real work experience, no money, no car, nothing. By the time I had my life arranged, you made it clear you wanted to stay in California and wanted nothing to do with me. So I let you stay with your father. I thought you were happy there."

"Dad left. Spilled secrets to the Feds and took off. No one knows where he is." Sara stated flatly.

"I know. Your brother told me." Ivana whispered softly. Sara fought back a scoff and an eyeroll, knowing Jason still spoke to their mother regularly. "I'm sorry, Sara. I know you loved him."

"He was a shitty father." Sara dismissed but felt a lump in her throat.

"No, he was a decent father. He was a shitty man." Her mother corrected. Sara shrugged in disagreement but held her tongue and chose to sip her coffee instead. It wasn't like her mom was around for the last twelve years; what did she know about Skip's parenting skills?

"Why are you here, Sara?"

"SAMDINO got shut down." Her mother nodded the information obviously not new to her. Jason again. "And Ryan was arrested and dad was gone and suddenly I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what to do. All my life I knew that the MC was my future and then my future just completely imploded and now I'm stuck having to pick up the pieces. Why'd you leave?"

"I was very young when I met your father. I was sixteen. Just come to America, you know? My Papa wasn't very nice either so I ran away, figuring I could make a better life for myself than he could make for me. Then along comes this handsome older man in leather with promises of an outlaw life together. It sounded like an exciting adventure on the open road, no rules or anyone to tell me what I could or couldn't do. Then I got pregnant with Jason. And then you. And suddenly I was 22 with two kids under five and in charge of a household with a husband who was never home. And your father became vice president and his drinking got worse, things between us weren't very good. You know how he got." Ivana stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. Sara just nodded in confirmation, having heard the first part of the story over and over growing up.

She had grown up idealizing her parents love story: her mother a lost teenager swept away in a passionate, whirlwind romance. She had always thought that her mother had lived this amazing, exciting life and that she was resentful of her children for ending that lifestyle, that she had run off because she didn't want the burden of children. It was only now that she was taking the time to reflect that she realized it wasn't all so glamorous. Sara did know that her father had been like in his later years and she only now wondered how long her mother had shouldered the burden of her father's anger in silence so that his children would not think less of him.

She knew the choking, strangled feeling of suffocation that the club created for its women. You were expected to run a household, keep your man's secrets, always look perfect, turn a blind eye as your man fucked other women, and wait around patiently as your man served time. It was the outlaw life, plain and simple.

"It wasn't the life for me. There was no respect; no trust. I was no more his wife than his slave; it just took me fourteen years to realize it. He was a bully and I got sick of it. So I left, and he let me go. I came here. I met Joe. And I fell in love." She ended simply, touching the simple gold band on her left ring finger. "I'm happy here. This is my life now."

Sara nodded as her brows furrowed and soaked in the information. She felt like an asshole. Jason had tried so many times over the years to try to get her to reconnect with their mother but Sara had refused, harboring a bitter anger over something she, as it turns out, didn't even understand.

"I met someone." She whispered. "Recently. Well—I met him a few years ago—but we just got together recently. I don't—He doesn't—I think we want different things. But at the same time, I don't know if either of us actually knows what we want."

"Do you love him?" Sara shrugged and shook her head in response.

"No…but I think maybe I could. Someday. If he'd let me." Her mother nodded sagely.

"So he's the reason you are here then, yes?"

"We got in a fight." Sara answered bashfully. She bit back a laugh when she remembered what had started the fight. She definitely was not telling her mother it was over condoms.

"You get into fight so you leave the state? Well, you always were dramatic." Her mother joked with a sigh. "You tell him where you go?" Sara bashfully shook her head. "No, of course not… He must be worried sick."

"He's not really a worrier." Sara mumbled rubbing her neck awkwardly, fiercely aware of the number of missed calls and voicemails on her phone. Ivana shot her a skeptical look.

"Look, my child, if you are happy in the club then you stay; if you are not then you leave. It's that simple. If you think this man will make you happy, then you stay. If he does not give you what you need then he is not the right man for you, yes?" Sara nodded and sipped her coffee letting her mother's sage words wash over her. She made it sound so simple.

Sara returned to Charming late the next evening feeling both more confused and clearheaded. Her mother and she had spent the whole day catching up and giving Sara some closure she had never gotten as a child but it had done little to solve the problem that had sent her running in the first place.

She threw her backpack on the bed with a sigh, happy to be back in her own apartment. She was exhausted from her flight but pulled her phone out and dialed the one number that had flooded her Recent Calls log. It rang a few times before clicking to signal it had been picked up.

"Hey…it's me." She started awkwardly. The man said nothing but she could hear him breathing quietly on the other end.

"I'm back. I thought maybe we should talk." Silence. "Or not. Whatever you want, I guess." She stuttered, losing her nerve. She almost hung up before she heard his gravelly voice.

"I'll be over in a few." He sounded flat. Resolute. Composed. Detached.

She was none of these things.

Sara busied herself by unpacking until she heard his engine pull into the drive. A few moments later there was a quiet knock. She opened it slowly, standing aside.

He stood on the other side with arms crossed defensively and a blank look on his face. His eyes scoped her body quickly before he moved past her into the apartment. Sara felt a small surge of hope in her chest. At least he was still checking her out. That meant something, right?

"Want anything to drink?" She asked politely. He made a sound of negation in his throat. "Right." She responded awkwardly. She wasn't used to him turning down a drink. She had been hoping the alcohol would loosen him up a little and make this conversation go easier.

"Listen… I have no idea what happened between us the other night. You freaked out and it freaked me out and I just…I needed some space to think and get my head on straight."

"Did you?" He asked quietly. She shrugged, blushing a little under his critical gaze.

"Not really. Turns out I needed to talk to you for that. I'm sorry if I worried you by taking off. " She answered simply. He made no response. Well shit. He was really making this difficult.

"What the hell happened, Hap?" She asked in exasperation. He shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

"We actually have to talk to work this out." She pointed out and he shrugged again. "Right, because you clearly don't want to work this out. What with the 15 missed calls to my phone." She stated sarcastically. He bristled but continued his silence.

"Ok then. Good talk. You can let yourself out." She dismissed and walked into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine, pissed that he always gave her shit for acting like a child but here she was trying to be the bigger person and he was the one giving the silent treatment. Well fuck that, and fuck him. She didn't need this. Her head was killing her from the flight and she just wanted to get some sleep. Tomorrow was Sunday and on Monday she would start her new job. She heard his steps follow her into the kitchen but she paid them no mind.

"You fuck anyone in Nebraska?" Her eyes rolled as she put the cork back in the bottle.

"That's your concern? Of course it is. No concern over whether I was dead on the side of the road. " She grumbled, mostly to herself, and turned to face him. She eyed him as she took a sip of wine. Per usual, his face was stoic. Might as well have been made of stone.

He watched her expectantly, his heart hammering against his ribs. Why was she taking too long to answer? Was she trying to come up with a lie? Did she actually fuck some random country boy?

"No. I didn't. Not sure why you would think I would." She finally answered. He blew out a shaky breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"Heard it was your MO when you fight with your man." He responded gruffly, arms still crossed protectively over his chest. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"And is that what you are? My man?" She asked with a scoff and a sip of wine. Now it was her turn to make it difficult. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes.

"Look, if you can't talk to me and be honest, you're no man that I want." She sighed in annoyance. "Make up your mind, Happy. I'm tired of walking on eggshells around you. I'm not the kind of girl that's going to sit around and pine away until you decide you want to be with me… You hurt me. When I'm hurt, I run. You don't get to get mad at me for that when you can't even admit you want to be with me. At least I'm honest with myself about wanting to be with you. You can't have your cake and eat it too." She finished with a huff. It felt good to get it all out. Even if he rejected her, she at least said her piece and she laid everything out.

At this point all she wanted was resolution, either way. Sara had realized in Omaha how tired of the games she was. She was tired of pretending she didn't care. She was tired of trying to be the 'cool girl' who was fine with being ignored at parties or only called at two in the morning. She wanted more. She finished her wine and turned to refill her glass while she waited for him to respond. She wasn't going to rush him. He would get defensive and shut down if she pushed him.

Familiar warmth radiated across her skin as his body moved behind hers. She hated that she was soothed by it, by his masculine scent of leather and soap and whiskey and open road.

"Turn around." He whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine hating her body for responding to his voice to readily. She was supposed to be being strong. Nonetheless, she obeyed setting her glass down with a shaky hand and turning slowly to face him.

"I ain't saying I want anything serious." He started and she rolled her eyes a little at his warning but smiled encouragingly at his admittance. "But I don't want you fucking other guys."

"That's not fair. I'm not a toy." She teased with a small smirk at his discomfort.

"Didn't say that." He responded vaguely. She raised a single eyebrow in challenge. He huffed in frustration.

"You're a frustrating little bitch, you know that?" He grumbled and she nodded.

"I've been told, yes. Is that it?" She pressured, resting her hands on his chest. The fibers of his black cotton shirt was soft and warm beneath her fingertips as she caressed his chest. His eyes closed at the touch and he swallowed before continuing. At least she wasn't the only one weakened when they were together.

"You're a frustrating little bitch. But you're my frustrating little bitch." He finished awkwardly and she smiled widely. The corners of his mouth started to turn up and he had to cough to cover his small smile.

"So you're my man then?" She asked moving closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands gripped her hips and he gave a small nod.

"No more panicking. You talk to me." She warned. He nodded once in response.

"No more running. And if you fuck someone—even if we are in a fight—I will kill you both." He countered with a deadly calm. She nodded in acceptance.

"And you need to get tested." She added with a giggle. He rolled his eyes.

"You really want it raw?" He asked in amusement. She shrugged.

"You should want to fuck me that way. But if you give me some croweater disease I will rip off your dick. I'll just rip it off. Straight off." She threatened. He barked out a coarse laugh and nodded before leaning to kiss her. She dodged his lips and gave him a pointed look.

"We still have a lot we need to talk about. To work out. Not tonight, but we need to start this on the right foot. We can't be at each other's throats just because we don't want to deal with shit." She warned. He sighed moved to capture her lips again.

"Fair enough." He mumbled into the kiss and she swatted his ass.

"Great. Now take me to bed!" She declared before jumping and wrapping her legs around his hips. He caught her easily and carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

A/N: Ta-da! So she ran to her mom, not to the arms of another man. Whew. Thoughts? Feelings?