June 2008

Things between Happy and Sara were tenuous in the week following their fight. Unsure of how to proceed, they stuck to shallow pleasantries and uncomplicated descriptions of their days for fear of setting the other off. It was weird. It'd been a while since she felt like she needed to walk on eggshells when talking to him, but she couldn't bring herself to broach the topic that hung between them.

Donna hadn't bothered to hide her disapproval and anger when Sara had told her how he had reacted which only bolstered Sara's stubborn refusal to bend. Donna had reminded her that even within the club, the women were the backbone and made sure that the men didn't go full-outlaw. If anything, it was beneficial for their women to have connections outside of the club to add an air of decency and legitimacy to the club. It made the general public think twice when they saw strong women with careers associating themselves with the outlaws. It was sound logic, although it hadn't been Sara's experience that things worked this way – SAMDINO had been more old school in their treatment of women. Donna was confident that Sara minimally deserved to be treated with respect with regards to earning outside the club and her own career. But then again, Opie was getting out in just three short weeks and Donna was chomping at the bit to get him out, earning straight, and essentially divorce the club as much as possible. Now, more than ever, Sara understood where her friend was coming from.

Regardless of Donna's opinion and her own misgivings, Sara honored her promise to Happy to look into other graduate programs—even ones in Washington. Her gut told her it wasn't a good idea to go up there, but a not-insignificant part of her wondered if that would make everything better. They were always better when they were together. They felt like two planets stuck in some gravitational pull: if they stayed nearby, everything was balanced and could keep moving, if they moved too far apart they'd go flying away on different trajectories or come slamming back into each other with a destructive force. She was certain that the push/pull of him coming and going was to blame for their inability to keep an even keel. She would always be the one left home and he would always be leaving at any hour at the drop of a hat. At least Ryan had come home most nights. Maybe if she was in Tacoma Happy'd be coming home most nights. She could look past uprooting her life—yet again—and the social battery she would receive, if it meant she could have him coming home to her. Maybe he was right, maybe it was selfish to expect him to ride through the night to see her for a day or two at a time.

Despite a torrent of thoughts, she forced herself to carry on in her daily life. She still had a job to do. She still had a life to lead. She still had to volunteer at some weird Charming community event that Gemma had put on. Summer Festival or something for kids. She wasn't really sure. All she knew was that she was in charge of the sand art booth. So, here she stood in the hot summer air, sweating, coated in the fine, colored sand.

"Ooo sand art! Don't mind if I do." A familiar voice teased. She rolled her eyes as Juice sat down at one of the stools but let him proceed. He was basically a child and she could use the company, even if she was in a bad mood. There was a brief lull as a child next to him finished her art before being quickly whisked away be her perturbed mother. Sara watched the retreating family in amusement; the effect of the kutte on the general public never ceased to entertain. Grateful for the break, Sara pulled her hair up into a messy bun and grabbed a new bottle of water from the cooler behind the table.

"How're things?" Juice asked casually, eyes more focused on the layering of sand he was creating inside the little plastic seahorse.

"Good; nothing really new going on." She stated noncommittally.

"Haven't seen you around much lately…" He baited, taking a moment to glance up at her to gauge her reaction. The blonde's lips were pursed, and her brow furrowed. She was staring off at the table absently as if she wasn't sure what to say which was a rarity. A strand of her blonde hair had fallen and was curling around her face, framing it nicely. She really was a pretty girl, he thought.

"Been busy." She finally sighed, moving to wipe the loose grains of sand off the table. Much to her chagrin most of it ended up sticking to her sweaty skin. Great.

"You used to come around all the time." He probed further.

"Well I have a job now. I can't just party every night." She snapped irritably.

"Hey, I have a job." He argued.

"A co-owner of a weed and colonic shop hardly counts." She grumbled with an eyeroll.

"What's up your ass?" He inquired bluntly. Sara tried her best to not let his inane words affect her but once again she was finding herself annoyed by the club's lack of tact or class. Couldn't he just ask what was wrong like a normal person?

"Nothing; I'm fine. Don't you have something to be doing?" She sighed, gesturing lamely to the crowd. SAMCRO were supposed to be running security on the event, but since nothing really ever happened in Charming, most of the guys were just screwing off. Juice looked at her for a long moment. She felt his eyes searching her face in confusion.

"I don't know what's gotten into you but alienating yourself from the club isn't going to help. And being a bitch to me, isn't going to make things with Hap better." He told her flatly, before shaking his head and walking away, his partially completed sand art left behind on the craft table.

"Great, now he's pissed at me too." She sighed, squeezing the bridge of her nose. She felt a headache coming on. Awesome. She grabbed the little plastic seahorse off the table but couldn't bring herself to dump it out. She looked at it thoughtfully, as if it might have the answers to all of her problems. It just stared back at her with its sad plastic eyes. "Some help you are." She mumbled.

Sara had gone home after the festival and taken a long shower, ridding herself of the fine sand that just didn't seem to wipe off her skin. With a heavy heart, she reflected on her attitude towards Juice. The Puerto Rican man had been her friend longer than almost any other single person. He'd been there for her when she and Hap got together, he'd helped her move, and he'd been a sounding board for all of her problems since. It hadn't been fair the way she'd talked to him when he was just checking in on her. He hadn't been wrong. She hadn't been around the Clubhouse in a while.

Absently, she sifted through the printed application forms she had before her. Maybe getting some work done on those would alleviate her guilt. Some were programs here in California, others were up in the SeaTac area. None of the Washington programs had really captured her heart, but she needed to get the applications done before the deadlines passed. She told herself that maybe if she went and visited the campuses, she'd get a better feel for them. She completed a few and added them to her pile of things to be mailed.

Sigh. She still felt like shit. Out of options, she pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Yo, whaddup?" Her brother's voice answered. She rolled her eyes at his stupid greeting. He really was such a loser.

"Hey, how're things in Reno?"

"Hot as balls. I know it's a fucking desert, but holy shit. I had to buy a cooling vest to wear under my shirt…" Her brother rambled on about the challenges of riding in the arid desert climate and she just listened, humming her responses when it was appropriate. "Anyway, what's new with you?"

"Just got some stuff going on. Wanted to get your opinion."

"Hit me."

"I'm thinking about going to grad school."

"…Ok. For the same sobriety…shit?" He asked and she rolled her eyes again, grateful he couldn't see her.

"Its not called that, but yes."

"What's the problem?"

"Happy got pissed at me."

"Why?"

"Well, I didn't tell him I was applying, and then I found out I got into a program and I wanted to tell him, but he's NEVER here for more than a few hours, so I just put the letter in his bag—"

"Jesus Christ, Sare. You still playing those passive aggressive games?" Her brother lamented with a sigh.

"I thought he'd be happy for me. Instead, he got it in his head that I was leaving."

"Well are you?"

"No… I don't think so. I just want to pursue my career, is that so bad?"

"You gotta run that shit by your man. You going behind his back makes him look bad."

"Its not even about him!" She argued in annoyance.

"I know that, but that's how this shit works. You know that. He takes care of you, and in exchange you defer to him. This ain't new info to you, so don't play dumb."

"He's just gone a lot so it doesn't even feel like that. He's still technically SAMTAC so he has to run up there often just to touch base and even when he is here he's always out late down here with the club." She sighed again.

"Well, someone's gotta fill graves." Jason pointed out jokingly and Sara's brows furrowed.

"Don't remind me." She grumbled and he laughed.

"Never bothered you when Ry was doing it." He teased.

"That's because Ryan didn't do it all that often. He was home most nights. We actually had a sort-of-normal life."

"Something tells me that even if Hap wasn't keeping funeral homes in business, you still wouldn't have a normal life with him. That's just not who he is." Jason advised. "Look, you need to think about how badly you want grad school versus your man. You know this life. You also know the consequences if you get out of it too." She hummed in acknowledgement. She'd be cut off. The people who had been her family and friends her whole life would be forced to alienate her. She'd have to get rid of anything that had any link to SOA. Her own brother would forced to limit his contact with her. The club was more important than blood.

"Can't I just stay a friend of the club?" She bemoaned.

"I don't know. That's up to Hap." He sighed, hating that his sister was having this crisis. "Just know, if you want out, I'll support you. But only if you do it through the right channels. I can't stick my neck out for you and then have you embarrassing me." Her anger flared briefly, but she knew he was just towing the company line. This was the only life he knew, and he'd only leave it in a body bag.

"Yeah… I'll think everything over and get back to you when I've made a decision. I might not even do grad school if its gonna be such a big deal and completely tear my life apart." She sighed. Jason shifted the conversation away, surprising her with the information that a few of the girls from the SAMDINO brothel had followed the guys to Reno and were working for them there. She had put so much time and energy into training them and was heartbroken that the dissolution of the chapter had essentially tossed them out on their asses. It made her happy that the guys were still taking care of them. The club really did take care of their own when life went to hell in a handbasket and she shouldn't be so quick to bite that hand.

After the call, she reflected on her recent actions. She knew things with Happy would stay tense for a while, but she did have some control over her friendship with Juice. With her tail between her legs she made her way through the clubhouse to his dorm. She knocked quietly and waited a moment. Hopefully he was here. And alone. Maybe this was a bad idea.

The door opened a crack and Juice's familiar face popped out. It fell slightly when he registered who was at his door, and guilt burned in her chest. She hated that she'd hurt him. He was a great guy, and far more delicate than he'd ever let anyone see.

"Juice… I…" She started, unsure of what to say. She'd practiced a few things in her head on the drive over but they all left her now. With a knowing shrug, he opened the door wider and moved to let her in. She entered nervously, eyes gazing around the room she'd been in so many times. It was jarring to be in a different man's space. She had gotten so used to Happy's eccentricities pertaining to cleanliness that she had forgotten how messy men could be. Her eyes fell on his laptop, and it looked like she'd been doing some background checks or something but he closed it before she could see a name, not that she even cared who the club was researching. Juice kicked some clothes into a pile before pulling a shirt over his lean torso. He'd been working out, Sara noted mentally.

"I'm sorry I was a bitch earlier." Sara finally stated, wringing her hands in her shame. "It wasn't fair; I'm just going through some stuff."

"I know." He flatly answered.

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that when you were just checking on me." She continued. "Especially not in public. That was inappropriate." She added, even though she knew Juice was less concerned with public image than some of the older men. He nodded but didn't say anything.

"…Are you mad at me?" She finally asked, and he blew air out through his nose and rolled his eyes.

"No, I'm annoyed." He said.

"But I said I was sorry." Her confusion was evident, and he chuckled dryly.

"Sara, just because you apologize doesn't mean I have to forgive you. I'm not your emotional punching bag."

"I know that." She defended stiffly. "That's not what I was doing."

"Sare, the only time you come hang out anymore is when something is wrong, and you want to complain about it."

"So? Friends ask each other for advice."

"When's the last time you asked how I was doing? Or if anything was new with me?" He paused and watched her react. Her face was frozen in a stunned pose. "I've tried to be there for you because we've been friends for a long time and I love you, but honestly you've been kind of selfish recently."

"What? I have not." She argued with a scoff. He gave her a pointed look. "I'm not selfish." She grumbled quietly, more to herself than him. He sighed.

"Sara… just… think about what I said." Juice whispered and moved towards the door. "I think you should go."

"JC…" She pleaded, and he winced at his initials. "I'm sorry. I just… I can't… Close the door." She stated firmly. He scoffed and glared at her. How dare she tell him what to do.

"I'm serious, I need to talk to you about some stuff and I don't want anyone else to hear." She whispered, moving to push the door closed. With his curiosity piqued, he allowed her to latch the door.

"I… I've kind of been thinking about severing ties with the club."

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" She hissed.

"What the hell, Sara? We're your family. Literally, in the case of your brother."

"I know, I've already talked to him about it… I just… I keep thinking about my life and I just… I want something more."

"You can have more and still be around."

"I just, I feel like my association with the club is holding me back sometimes."

"What about Hap?"

"I don't know. I feel like he's just always gone and I can't just sit around and wait for him to stop by Charming."

"I thought you were gonna do gradschool or whatever."

"Well, Hap wants me to move to Tacoma. But, honestly, I hate Tacoma. I hate the club there. Its awful; at least you guys are nice." She shuddered remembering the interactions she had when she'd gone up. "I'm tired of sweetbutts and the parties and the whole scene. I'm just... tired."

"Is this because you've been talking to Donna so much?" Juice accused. Sara shook her head.

"No but I'd be lying if her situation didn't feel like looking down the rabbit hole at my future."

"She's just pissed. Ope will talk her down when he gets out."

"She wants Opie to earn straight when he's out." Juice snorted. "What?"

"Opie is born and bred. He'd die before leaving the club life behind."

"You don't think his love for her is enough to shape up?"

"Sara, there's a reason most of the guys are divorced or separated or whatever. When chicks don't want to be a part of the life anymore, the guys will always choose the club over love."

"I mean I know Hap would choose the club. He always chooses the club. That's part of the problem. I just feel its making me resent the club and that's not fair because everyone has always been there for me too. It's been there my whole life. I don't want to turn into some angry, raging bitch like half the ex-wives. Do I talk to Hap about this?" He looked alarmed.

"Absolutely not. Do not tell him. You need to get your shit straight before talking to him. Maybe you just need some space from the club. You can go to grad school and then come back if you want. You don't need to completely sever ties. Think over your options."

"Yeah… okay." The blonde stated, thinking heavily.

"Don't blame Happy. He's just scared of losing you." Sara snorted in response. "I'm serious. That man is a different person because you are with him."

"That's what I'm afraid of. Tacoma seems to hate that I've changed him. What if being with me wrecks his standing in the club? I'm the legacy of a rat; they all know that."

"Well, that's his choice and you should let him make it; stand by him if it does. But he goes through hell for you, and then you just throw it away, its gonna reflect on him." Sara groaned and pressed the heel of her palm into her eyes. She was sick of being told everything she did would reflect poorly on Happy. Did people outside of the club ever even think of shit like this? Or did they just get to do whatever they wanted, freely?

"Right. I'll think about it." She sighed as Juice lit a joint and passed it to her. She took a hit and passed it back, letting the calming effects flood her. "Oh, I have something for you." She rifled through her purse before handing him the small object. He looked down at it and smiled. She had finished his little seahorse sand art.

"I'm still mad at you." He teased, passing the joint to her and placing the seahorse on his dresser next to a few of his earthly possessions.

"Wait, you said you weren't mad earlier."

"I lied. Obviously I was mad, you little bitch." He teased with no malice in his voice. She chuckled and passed the joint back.

"If I did leave, would you cut me off?" She asked after a moment. Her eyes caught his and he saw that the blue was fraught with turmoil and trepidation.

"I mean, it depends on how you get out. But I'd probably have to." Her face crumbled, and his heart ached.

"I hate this system. Why should I be punished for living my life?" She flopped back on his bed, and he lay on his back next to her. They watched his fan spin as the high started to set in.

"It's the cost of wanting to live on the fringe, Sara. If you can spin it in a way which leaves you still connected, then you'd be fine."

"Yeah, but I'd be at the beck and call of the club my whole life."

"That's family." He sighed. "You're my family." He added, and she groaned at the cheesy declaration. He tipped his head to glance at her and saw the small smile despite her sounds of protest.

"You're my family too, loser."

A/N: Thoughts on Sara getting out? Should she talk to Hap? Should she wait and just do grad school? Should she sacrifice grad school to be with Hap? Thank you for all of your kind reviews. They give me so much inspiration!