September 2008

Sara had never had so much respect for restaurant servers as she had now. Turns out, waitressing was not her calling. She'd dropped two plates and spill three drinks (only 1 on a customer though) in the first three hours of her shift. The employees of the diner were giving her side eye and rolling their eyes every time there was a crash followed by a squeaked Sorry! If they weren't suspicious of the unexpected new girl before, they would be now. Anya had put in a call stating she sick but had a friend who would cover her shift tonight. Sara was sure the club greased the manager to allow her in, but she didn't wasn't about to outwardly ask. If anything she hoped her shit serving reflected poorly on the dumb brunette bitch. She'd half-considered dropping plates on purpose, just to fuck with Ayna's rep but she knew if she drew too much attention to herself she'd get in trouble.

Thankfully she'd gotten the hang of it by the time the Russian men came in the diner. She recognized them from the pictures they showed her at the clubhouse, but she couldn't remember their names. She figured it was for the best so she wouldn't accidentally slip up and call them by their name if they didn't give it to her. There were three of them and they sat in a booth in Sara's section. She made her way over to their table, putting a little extra pep in her step.

"Hi my name is Sara, I'll be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink to start?" The men ordered their drinks without really looking at her. As she made her way to the drink station, the bell over the door jingled. She looked up and saw Happy and Juice walk in. Neither was wearing a kutte and both men were in plain long sleeve shirts to cover their tattoos. Both were wearing baseball caps to cover their obvious head markings. In a perfect world they'd have sent two less conspicuous men, like maybe Jax or Opie, but they made due with who they had. Nonetheless, they looked like average blue-collar guys and Sara had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the laugh from rising out. They were seated in a different section, but Happy gave her a lingering look. She met his eyes briefly but didn't acknowledge him and carried the drinks past them to the table.

"Here you go, gentlemen." She set the drink's down one at a time, praying she didn't tip her tray by accident. She blew out a sigh of relief when she managed to get them all to the right person without needing a handful of napkins.

"Are you guys ready to order?"

"What happened to that other girl?" One man asked bluntly, accent thick.

"…I'm sorry?"

"The brunette. She's always our waitress on Wednesdays."

"Oh Anya; she's out sick. Stomach bug I think she said." She stated popping her gum and shrugging before whispering conspiratorially, "Although I heard she's knocked up and doesn't know who the daddy is, poor thing."

The three men stared at her blankly for a beat before bursting out laughing. She laughed along; thankful it had gone over well. It'd been a risk, but she couldn't help herself. Fuck that bitch.

"Anyway, I'll be taking care of you tonight—"

"What's your name again?"

"Sara; I'm new. And frankly, I'm real nervous. Today's my first day, so be gentle with me, okay?" She flirted with a sly smile. The men were all older, in their forties or fifties. Old men loved her. Sure enough, they chuckled and shared a glance with each other. She shifted to bend one of her legs casually, drawing their eyes to the length of exposed skin. It wasn't a short dress, but it wasn't as conservative as she'd expected when she put it on. She'd been forced to wear ugly white sneakers that she wouldn't be caught dead in, but the guys had argued that the heels she'd worn in would've drawn even more attention.

"Sure thing, lovely." One assured with a lascivious stare. He looked like he wanted to lay her on the table and fuck her there. She decided she'd call him Rasputin in her head.

"You guys ready to order or you need a few more minutes?"

"We're actually waiting for another, but I suppose we could order since he is late." Rasputin stated with a shrug, his accent thick.

"Wow, that's quite an accent. What is that? German?" She asked feigning ignorance. The men snickered.

"It's Russian." Rasputin answered again, in a tone she assumed was meant to be enticing. She loved older men, but something about this guy made her skin crawl. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her like he was just waiting for an opportunity to grab her, but she shifted her weight away from him a little while she answered.

"Really? I don't think I've ever met anyone from Europe before…" She stated, wrapping a finger in her ponytail. She could play the dumb blonde all night long. "It's like, really cold there, right?"

"I think we're ready to order…" One of the other men interjected and she shrugged, grabbing her notepad from her apron and squatting next to the table, pretending to need the table to write on.

"What can I get for you?" She bent her legs at an angle that she knew would allow the other two men to see up her skirt. Sure enough, she saw one lean back a little, eyeing her. She pretended not to notice. She'd worked at a brothel long enough that she was able ignore that uncomfortable feeling of being leered so long as they didn't actually touch her, especially knowing there were two men a few tables away who would do anything keep her safe. She made sure to spread her legs a little to ensure they got an glimpse of her lacy panties. After a faux-innocent smile she excused herself and she passed the order to the cooks; she'd have to thank Hap later for his fixation on innocence that had given her a lot of practice. She refilled glasses at her only other table – she'd been given a smaller section after she dropped the first few things and they realized she was hopeless.

She spared a glance to Happy and Juice's table, Happy was facing her direction, giving her a dark look, as if he knew what the men had been thinking about her. He must have seen her moves and he wasn't pleased. She gave him a reassuring half-smile but continued to make herself busy. Another jingle. A man walked in and she watched him scan the small diner before going and taking a seat with the Russians. He looked darker, Hispanic maybe? Sara silently noted he looked nervous. Giving him a moment to settle she walked over. They had been speaking quietly among themselves but stopped when she arrived, her fake smile plastered on her face.

"Hi, I'm Sara. Could I get you something to drink or eat?"

"A water is fine." The man dismissed; dark skin, dark eyes, dark hair. Definitely Hispanic. She nodded and walked away, making eye contact once more with Happy who gave her a subtle nod, letting her know he saw the newcomer. She stood filling a glass when another waitress walked over and passed her a note.

"Here, one of those guys said to give this to you. Do you know them?"

"Uhh… no?" She stated, taking the note, unsure of how to answer. She figured it was best to keep up the pretense that she didn't know Hap or Juice. Once the girl had walked away, she opened the note and sucked in a short breath seeing Happy's familiar chicken scratch "Mayan". Mayans ruled the Nevada territory. If they found out the Sons were running recon on some deal they had, there would be war. She crumpled the note and threw it away quickly, chancing another glance at Happy. He nodded minutely and she nodded back, grabbing the water and taking it back to the table; once more the men all went silent when they saw her approaching. She made herself busy nearby, wiping down tables and refilling ketchup bottles, trying to blend in the background and let them talk. Finally, they started talking quietly.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"We had a deal."

"We're working on it."

"See that's not good enough. You going to distribute or not?"

"Sure we are."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Just had a few little issues with some other clubs thinking they don't have to pay the taxes. It's taken care of. Nothing to worry about."

"You know, if you can't keep control of your own territory, we may need to rethink our arrangement, amigo."

"No need." The Mayan stated with a shrug. "We good."

"We will see. You can expect a call." One man finished, clearly dismissing the Mayan. Sara went to grab the men's food and brought it over to them as the Mayan stood to leave.

"Ma'am." He acknowledged before exiting past her. She placed the plates in front the remaining Russians and asked if they needed anything else. They politely declined and she made herself busy again. This time, when the men spoke it was in their native tongue. It was still hushed but less so, clearly confident that no one would be listening in. Sara was trying as best she could to listen; she wasn't used to listening to Russian from anyone other than her mother, so she was having a hard time but she got the gist.

"You think he's telling the truth?"

"If he knows what's good for him."

"We can't supply more if they aren't moving it. We are already competing for business with…" Sara didn't catch who they were competing with. The Sons? Someone else?

"Then they need to tax more or we need to find someone else to move product. What about a different ….?" She was frustrated she wasn't catching the important details, but her brain was already struggling even hear what they were saying let alone process and translate.

"The Mayans run this territory. They'd start a war. Isn't worth the trouble."

"What is she doing?" At that, Sara realized she'd stopped what she was doing and was just bending over a table. She snapped into action, fussing with the sugar and Splenda packets, arranging them frivolously.

"She was just stopped there until you said something about it." One stated in a hushed voice.

"She listening?"

"That one? Doubtful. She seems even more stupid than the other one."

"I don't like her."

"Well then shoot her then." One guy stated with a shrug, and Sara couldn't tell if he was joking despite the chuckles from the other two men and her stomach dropped. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up as they watched her silently for a few moments. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out.

"You understand me?" He asked loudly in Russian and Sara continued her menial tasks, every fiber of her being screaming at her to not react even though her heart was pounding in her chest. Her stomach was tight. After a moment she straightened the table she'd been working on and moved to pass their table, tucking her shaking hands in her apron pockets.

"How is everything?" She asked with a tight but pleasant smile as she passed, slowly for their response. They eyed her warily but nodded. "Great. Oh, would you like a refill?"

"I'm fine." He answered in clipped English. "What's your last name?"

"Uhh… I'm sorry?" She asked, buying time. She didn't want to give her actual name.

"Your full name. What is it?" He snapped and she backed up a step in surprise. She panicked and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Lowman. Sara Lowman. Why?" She asked, almost accusingly; she couldn't help the way it slipped out and she bit her cheek trying her best to look sweet and docile when she was in full panic-mode inside.

"You look familiar." One of the men dismissed. They just stared at her for a beat and she gave a weak smile.

"Okay, well let me know if you need anything, I'm gonna keep on tidying up my tables." She stated, squeezing the pen in her pocket tightly before excusing herself and scurrying down the hallway towards the bathroom, pulling her shaking hands from her pockets.

"Holy shit." She whispered to herself, pushing open the Women's bathroom door and leaning against the sink, letting out her ragged breath.

After a moment, the door opened and she squeaked, clutching her chest.

"You good?" Happy asked closing the door behind him, surprised by her jumpy reaction.

"You can't be in here!" She gasped, trying to push him towards the door.

"Its fine, fuckin' calm down." He rolled his eyes.

"They almost made me, Hap." She whispered, chewing on her lip and covering her face as she exhaled shakily. She almost told him the man's comment about shooting her but bit back the words before they rolled off her tongue. He didn't need to know that right now or he'd go ballistic and kill all three without missing a beat. "They asked me my last name."

"Fuck; didja tell them?" She shook her head and scoffed, surprised he'd even ask her that. "What'd you say?"

"Lowman." She stated weakly and saw him recoil. Her expression turned frantic. "I panicked; I'm sorry. It was that or Ortiz and with a Mayan just there I figured that would raise more suspicion to have a Spanish last name." She lied. Juice's last name never crossed her mind, but it seemed to alleviate some of Happy's shock.

"No, its fine." He cleared his throat avoiding her eyes, and she watched him. He was clearly thrown. She wanted to roll her eyes. It wasn't like she legally changed her name to Lowman; she'd just lied on the fly about it but here he was freaking out about it even as a hypothetical.

"I've been in here too long. I need to get back out there." She stated, shaking her head to clear it and taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. She could do this. Definitely.

"No way, Sara. The fact he was meeting with a Mayan is good enough to take back." Hap's words deflated her resolve some, and she shot him a dirty look which he returned out of spite.

"They aren't saying much. They have some supply/demand deal with the Mayans but I don't know what it is."

"Prob'ly H." He guessed, shrugging and she nodded in understanding. She knew the Mayans were deep in the heroin trade specially this close to the border.

"It'll be more suspicious if I just up and leave now. I'm almost done; I only have another hour left before I'm done with my shift so just let me finish this. I'm okay, I promise; I was just shaken." She assured firmly, letting him know with her words and her eyes that she was fine. He sighed and nodded, begrudgingly, knowing he couldn't full well throw her over his shoulder and carry her out the front of the restaurant without making a scene. She moved to walk past him, but he grabbed her and brought her in for a searing kiss. He squeezed her against his body, one of his large hands sliding down her back to grab her ass. When the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against hers, hand still resting on her bottom.

"This is mine." He growled and her eyes widened. "Put on your little peep show for the Ruskis, but imma remind you of that shit later tonight." He promised and she smiled up at him, knowing he needed to say it more than she needed to hear it. Last thing he wanted was to see his woman parading her shit around for some old Russian dicks.

"One hour." He stated firmly and she nodded. He smacked her ass one more time to break the serious tone and let her poke her head out into the hallway before ushering him past her in the hallway. He went straight into the Men's room while she straightened her dress and walked back out with her game face on.

"I've told you everything they said." She shrugged, annoyed with the third degree she was getting back at the clubhouse. She was back in her clothes, grateful to be rid of that ugly dress and sneakers. Her last hour at the diner had been uneventful; the men didn't seem to talk when she was within earshot, so while they maybe believed she didn't understand them they also weren't going to take any unnecessary risks when she was around. Happy had been incensed when she'd let it slide during the debrief that the men had threatened to shoot her, although she assured him they were joking. He'd still been furious and his jaw muscle was still twitching because she hadn't mentioned it at the restaurant.

"This wouldn't have happened if it were Anya." One of the guys grumbled and Sara swept her gaze to him.

"Well I told you to send the dumb cunt in to begin with; sorry I'm not the sneaky little bitch she is." She spat argumentatively.

"Your Old Man should teach you some respect—" The man shot back and Happy pushed off the wall he was leaning on to tower behind Sara.

"You wanna say that again to my goddamn face?" Happy threatened darkly. Sara balked at the fact that Happy hadn't missed a beat after being referred to as her Old Man but didn't have time to reflect on it as the other man stood up abruptly. The President raised his hand to silence their arguing and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"If I wanted to deal with children I would have stayed with my ex-wife." He stated with irritation, his scathing look forcing the other man into his seat again. Happy tucked Sara into his side and stared daggers at the man who had mouthed off to him, only half listening as the President continued, "It wasn't a total bust. Now we know the Russians and the Mayans are in bed. We know whose been paying taxes to the Mayans?"

"Couple of the smaller clubs; no one of huge importance: Golden Eagles, Buffalo Soldiers, Devil's Tribe and the likes." Sterling offered, sending Sara a sympathetic look. She tried to smile back although it looked more like a grimace. The men discussed things further, while Sara just wrapped her arms around Happy's waist and pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the slow beat of his heart. Occasionally Happy would interject something and she would hear his deep voice echoing through his chest.

"All right. Sara." She disentangled herself from Happy to face the head of the table respectfully, despite her total lack of actual respect for the men at this table.

"Thank you for your help today; it's good to see you're the good girl your brother said you were." The President commended diplomatically. She fought an eye roll and snippy response simply settling for squeezing Happy's hand tightly.

"You're welcome." She offered politely, albeit stiffly. On that note, she turned and moved to exit, followed by Happy, just grateful to have the whole ordeal done with. He pushed the heavy oak door open for her and let her pass. She waited for him and as the door closed, she heard a mumbled "What a bitch" followed by laughter from the room behind them. Happy stopped in his tracks but she grabbed his arm tightly.

"Keep walking." She murmured. He resisted but gave in as she tried to drag him. She could feel the waves of agitation rolling off of him. Once they were outside, he practically snarled.

"How dare they talk about you like that?"

"You call me a bitch all the time." She pointed out calmly handing him her keys.

"That's different and you know it."

"Why? Because you actually know how big of a bitch I can be?" She teased and he shot her a dark look letting her know he didn't think it was funny. "Welcome to the woman's side of club life, Hap. They aren't the first or the last men to call me bitch."

"It's disrespectful."

"I get it all the time, I don't take it personally." She shrugged. "Not the worse thing I've been called."

"No, disrespectful to me I mean." She rolled her eyes and snickered. Of course, he was only offended because it reflected on him.

"Okay, big man. Let's just go to the hospital. I want to check in on Jason; you can get your bike and go for a ride to cool off, or go shoot at a coyote, or whatever it is you need to do." She snickered again and he rolled his eyes but backed out of the parking spot. "You're right though, Reno is a bunch of dicks. No wonder Jason fits in so well." She added, finally getting him to crack a smile.

A/N: No worries guys, we're getting back on course with the plot. Review and let me know how you feel.