September 2008

"Hey." Sara looked up from her lunch and met eyes with Tara's brown. When lunch came around, she'd just headed next door to the St Thomas cafeteria not having the energy to go anywhere further. The food wasn't great, but it wasn't the worst thing she'd ever eaten either.

"Can I sit?" Tara asked hesitantly after a moment and Sara realized she'd just been staring.

"Yes, sorry. Didn't get much sleep last night." She never slept well when Happy was out of Charming.

"So, I talked to Croft in neurology and he gave me the name of a few good physical rehab places for your brother. He'll put in a good word to whichever he's interested in, when the time comes. If you get me a copy of his scans and medical reports, I can ask him for a consult or second opinion if that's something you are interested in…" Sara let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Tara. That means a lot."

"Any news?"

"No… still sedated. My mom is with him though."

"You…? Would…? ah…" Tara started.

"Spit it out, Doc." Sara teased, taking a bite of her salad.

"Do you want to get a drink… sometime?" Tara asked awkwardly. Sara was surprised, not expecting a social invitation from the other woman. "I just… I don't know too many people here and with my past with the Club… people either remember or they don't, and I don't know which is worse… it's just easier to—"

"I get it, Tara. Sure. Friday?" Sara wasn't positive how it worked when the Old Lady came back, and the Son had a new Old Lady because she'd never met one who did. Typically, once you were out you were out, meaning essentially ignored by anyone who was still in but if Tara was willing to go out on a limb for her brother, who she didn't know, Sara was willing to put aside Club politics. Besides, she'd heard from Gemma that Tara was Abel's doctor anyway, so it wasn't like the SOA First Family weren't talking to her.

"Yea… That works… Thank you." Tara seemed pleased as she took down Sara's number.

"Anywhere you want to go?"

"Honestly, anywhere but SAMCRO, if you don't mind." Tara admitted dryly and Sara giggled, nodding.

"Sounds good."

"Hey Gem—" Sara started, opening the office door and nearly getting knocked over by Half-Sack barging out without a word. Sara's face twisted into a look of concern when she saw Gemma wiping her eyes hurriedly. "Gemma, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, honey. Nothing." Sara glanced past Gemma outside and saw Juice hurrying off a tiny little brunette in a black tank and blue shorts. He'd just gotten back from Indian Hills with the van but that didn't explain the petite woman.

"Who's that?"

"Some road whore." Gemma dismissed which a poisonous scoff. "You need something, baby?"

"Yea, the guys were changing my oil. I came to pick up my keys." Gemma pointed over to the key hook, although Sara already knew where they would be.

"How's things with you and Happy?"

"Good."

"You doin' okay with him on the road so much?" Sara's stomach dropped hearing the venom in her words.

"You trying to tell me something, Gem?"

"Nothing 'bout Hap." Gemma dismissed and Sara felt a modicum better, although she could tell there was more to her comment than she was letting on.

"It's not easy but I'm planning to move up to Tacoma in December when my lease is up. Might make things a little easier to be on his turf." Sara finally admitted and Gemma finally cracked a smile, albeit a smug one.

"Well look at you, all grown up." Sara shrugged, twirling her keys around her finger. "You tell Juice and Half-Sack?" Sara shook her head.

"Not yet. You're the first one from SAMCRO to know, I think. Happy has probably told Kozik and Lee but… that's it so far."

"Well, those idiot-children will be sad to see you go." Gemma teased.

"Yeah, they're good guys." Sara mused, looking out the window.

"You coming to the fight on Friday?" Gemma asked with a raised brow. Oh right, Half-Sack was meant to box or cage-fight or whatever. He'd invited her but she didn't know if it was worth going without Happy—she had no interest in the fight itself— and now she had plans anyway.

"No, I'm meeting someone for drinks."

"This someone better have a pussy." Gemma joked, knowing full well the blonde socializing with a man outside the Club would be suicide.

"She does." Sara affirmed before adding, "So far as I know anyway; haven't checked her myself."

"You know, you can tell Donna she can come too." Gemma sneered but Sara shook her head.

"It's not Donna. It's… Tara. Knowles." She winced seeing Gemma's features darken at the name.

"You watch yourself with that one. She's nothing but trouble," Gemma cautioned, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"I'll keep that in mind." Sara acknowledged hesitantly, confused about both Gemma's mood and her warning.

"Thought you weren't coming?" Juice teased watching the blonde walk up that Friday night.

"Plans cancelled." Sara said with a shrug. Tara had called sounding spooked and cancelled their drinks but when Sara had pressed for information Tara just claimed she was tired from work and they would reschedule. Sara had seen right through her lies, but it wasn't her prerogative to get into the woman's business; lord knows, she wouldn't want someone sniffing around her life. Juice whistled lowly, holding out his hand for her to twirl under. She smacked him in the stomach playfully during her spin.

"Watch it." She stated with a laugh at his dramatic recoil from her hit. She'd settled on black thigh-high boots, a pair of tight jean shorts, and a black sheer lacy tank, her push-up bra peeking through. Her hair was half-up, and she'd curled some of her waves to make them more defined.

"How you think your Old Man would feel about this?" Juice asked gesturing to her outfit.

"He's not here, so it doesn't matter. Besides, you guys are here to keep an eye on me anyway." She stated with a shrug. "You sayin' you don't think I look pretty?" She playfully flirted. He held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Didn't say that. Just don't want my ass beat when he gets pissed you're putting it all out there."

"Please, this ain't nothing, Juicy." She teased, looking down at her outfit approvingly. "When's Kip fighting?"

"Soon." She followed him through the crowd to grab a cup of beer before settling in around the guys.

"Ahh, hello lassie; haven't seen you out in a bit." Chibs greeted with a half hug.

"Been busy with work."

"Well, well, look who came out to play…" Tig taunted as he came over rubbing his hands together maniacally, followed by Half-Sack and that skinny girl Sara'd seen at the shop earlier in the week. "And all by herself…" Tig continued, wrapping an arm around her shoulders dramatically. She laughed and shrugged it off, giggling when he held his heart in faux pain.

"Any word on your brother?"

"Nothing new; still stable. Still sedated."

"Reno mentioned that you did a good job helping them out." Tig commended somberly and Sara simply nodded, although she wanted to shudder at the memory of the creepy Russian men and how close she'd come to blowing her cover. "Also heard you knocked a bitch out." The guys hooted at this and she blushed.

"I didn't knock her out, I just… broke her nose." Sara stated with an unapologetic shrug. The guys howled with laughter.

"It was glorious." Juice added with a proud laugh.

"Breaking noses must be a Charming Old Lady thing." Half-Sack mused, although Sara didn't catch the reference.

"Listen, Sack, if you choke, we know who to send in the ring in your place." Tig teased. Sara blushed deeper and made her way to Sack giving him a side-hug and eying the brunette who was giving her a dirty look. Sara recognized her from the Lot earlier that week, when Gemma'd seemed distraught. Upon a closer inspection, Sara noticed that the girl's nose looked bruised and despite the layers of make-up, Sara recognized the two black eyes. With a small smirk, she put the pieces together. There were only two reigning Old Ladies in Redwood. Donna and Gemma, and Sara knew the former wasn't around the Club enough to warrant wrecking a girl's face—although she didn't doubt Donna's capacity to go full trailer-park on a bitch given the right circumstances. No, this was Gemma's work.

"Sara, this is Cherry. I met her in Indian Hills." He introduced and Sara gave a small nod, trying to withhold judgement but failing. If Gemma'd done the damage, it wasn't for no reason. The brunette looked her up and down, equally skeptical it seemed. Sara wanted to snort; she wasn't interested in Half-Sack in the slightest, but it felt good to know that she was to be feared. "She's Happy's girl. Her brother runs with the Reno SOA; she was born into the Club." Half-Sack explained, feeling the tension. Sara simply looked down at the woman haughtily as her pedigree was laid out. The brunette seemed to relax at this, almost looking at her with big, dreamy eyes. Sara'd knew that look. She was hungry; she wanted to be an Old Lady and was hoping Half-Sack would be her big chance.

"I've met Happy." Cherry acknowledged, and it was Sara's turn to narrow her eyes critically and she watched as the blood drained from the petite woman's face.

"N-no, not like that. I mean… He was there, and I met him, but I didn't… we've never…" She stuttered, backtracking her words.

"Relax, Sara." Half-Sack assured. She gave a forced smile to the girl before wishing Sack a good fight and excusing herself to get another drink. Cherry may not have messed around with Hap, but Sara's hackles were standing tall as her imagination ran wild thinking about what else could have happened in Indian Hills. She hadn't been kidding when she said she knew what happened at patch-overs; if Gemma was pissed enough to break faces, it could only be because Clay'd fucked around with this little skank and, somehow, she'd managed to convince the guys to bring her back for Half-Sack. Having a run sweetbutt flaunted in front of an Old Lady was a cardinal offense, and this little Cherry was legitimately lucky she was still breathing. Sure, women dealt with women problems, but she knew the men weren't afraid to run off a gal who was making trouble for them. A woman who makes waves didn't go over well in the outlaw life.

Sara refilled her cup and finished it in a few big gulps, making faces at the taste of beer. Normally she wouldn't be caught dead drinking foamy keg beer, but it was cheap and easy, and she wanted to get drunk. Seeing Cherry, and what she represented, was a slap to the face she hadn't been expecting. Immediately she felt the fire inside that she'd felt when she'd seen Anya at the hospital in Reno. Absolute vengeful hellfire. Trying to suppress the feeling, she refilled her cup again and made her way to Juice, already feeling buzzed.

"What're you wound up about?" Juice asked, surprisingly observant. For someone so socially handicapped, he'd always read her well.

"Met Half-Sack's… friend." Sara stated with an attitude.

"Oh, yeah. She got my ass in trouble already just for bringing her here." Juice stated with a sour look. "She's already pissed off Gemma and Clay. And now you too apparently." Juice stated with a shrug, watching the fight currently going on. Half-Sack's fight should be next.

"She didn't piss me off. It was a misunderstanding…" She dismissed, still in a vinegary mood but noting that he mentioned something had gone down between Clay and Gemma about the little Nevada sweetbutt, confirming her existing suspicions. Bold little tart to show her face in the same town as the Old Lady of the man she fucked around with, even if she came for a different Son. Not even a Son, she mentally corrected, a Prospect.

"Did anything happen with Happy in Indian Hills?" She asked pointedly, alcohol making her feel bold. Even as the words came out, the good little Old Lady Sara on her shoulder was begging her not to. Jealous Sara on her other shoulder, goaded her on; reminding her that if it happened to Gemma, it could happen to her. Was there some little wench going to hop a ride to Charming to meet up with Hap? Did he speed off to Tacoma to meet up with someone else? Was he making a fool of her to all of these outlaws she was starting to think of as family?

"What do you mean?" Juice asked absently, wincing as one of the guys hit the mat hard and struggled to get back up.

"Did he… you know…"

"No, I don't know." He asked, clearly confused, only half-paying attention to her.

"I'm talking about run rules. Did he fuck someone on the road in Nevada?" She finally asked exasperated. Juice barked out a laugh before an 'Ow!' as she punched his shoulder.

"What the fuck, Sara? When did you get so violent?" He grumbled, rubbing his arm. Sara took in his dark look and she glowered under his gaze, knowing she shouldn't have hit him in public. They couldn't have people thinking the Sons got pushed around by their women.

"It's not funny." She hissed, and he looked at her.

"Oh, you're serious." She rolled her eyes. Goddammit, so much for reading her well.

"I asked you a question." She shot back brazenly, albeit quieter than before.

"You can't ask me that." He shrugged dismissively. Sara's face fell immediately. "Sara, don't read into that and stir shit up." He warned.

"Look, nothing good ever comes from this line of questioning. Either you're right and it hurts, or you're wrong and you look like a psycho and Hap gets pissed. There is no win-win when you go down this road; you hear me?" He stated firmly, more firmly than she could remember him ever speaking to her. She huffed, fighting back the unexpected stinging in her eyes. Dammit, the alcohol was getting to her.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Sara. Really?" He groaned. "Come on." He sighed, dragging her out of the crowd.

"Stop crying." He commanded once they were in open air.

"I'm not crying!"

"Bullshit, I can see you."

"I just hate the idea of him fucking some skank." She glowered, wiping her eyes embarrassed.

"You can't let shit like that get to you."

"Thanks for the advice." She responded sarcastically, as if it were so easy to just let shit slide.

"I'm just saying, don't forget that he comes home to you. You're his endgame; not some hypothetical hookup you've made up in your head. He's not your ex." She eyed him for a moment, briefly scorning his loyalty to the Club. He could never get caught choosing her over the club; it was too risky. Finally, she sighed as his words soaked in. She did sound like a crazy person, she knew it. She couldn't help it. She had loved Ryan so much and he'd had a secret girl stashed away for years before she found out. It wasn't even just some road bitch; he'd paid for her apartment. He'd stayed with her when he'd be in Nevada, which was at least one weekend a month. She'd been stupid enough to believe him when he said he'd taken a regular post on protection runs. She knew the depth of lies men were capable of if they covered their tracks well enough.

But Juice was right; Happy wasn't Ryan. He hadn't given her any reason to think anything happened on the road, or if it did, that it wasn't anything worth repeating.

"You're right." She stated before adding, "Surprisingly," with a small smirk and he rolled his eyes.

"You're fucking nuts, you know, that right? You're not even my goddamn woman and somehow I end up dealing with your shit anyway." He stated affectionately, giving her a hug and kiss on the top of her head letting her know he didn't mind as she wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You can head back inside, I'm gonna call him." She stated simply and he nodded, squeezing her shoulder before moving past her. Once he was out of earshot, she flipped her phone open and dialed the familiar number.

"Yo." He greeted gruffly.

"Hey baby." She sniffed into the phone.

"You good?" He asked slowly, hearing her tone.

"Yeah, just… stupid shit."

"Oh, you mean like how you're wearing a see-through fuckin' shirt and fuck-me boots?" He rasped, though he sounded more amused than angry. She recoiled in surprise.

"How—"

"You think I don't have Juice running recon on ya, darlin'? He sent me a pic." Happy stated as if it were obvious. Sara shot a glare toward the building that Juice had disappeared into.

"That little narc…" She grumbled, hearing Happy chuckle in response. "It's not see-through… its lace." She defended weakly.

"Relax, I don't give a fuck. You look hot, by the way. Just keep that shit to yourself and we won't have a problem." He stated simply. "Maybe wear those boots for me sometime."

"You hear Gemma threw down with a road-skank from Indian Hills?" Sara asked, waiting to hear Happy's response. The line was silent for a moment before he responded, and her eyes narrowed at his hesitation.

"Oh yea? What's she doin' there?" He asked, as if it were no big deal.

"Juice brought her back in the truck."

"Fuckin' idiot child." Happy whistled lowly. "How's Gem?"

"So, you knew about it?" She accused, holding back the bite she'd wanted to add and completely ignoring his request for information on Gemma's state of mind. He didn't deserve that information if he was going to protect the brotherhood with his silence.

"Not talkin' 'bout that." He dismissed in the same way Juice had dismissed her for asking about Hap. The Brothers didn't rat on each other to the ladies, knowing full well they had their own code that shared information about runs. Sara huffed quietly and remained silent.

"You got somethin' you wanna ask me?" he bluffed sternly, his challenge hanging in the silence. Fuck he'd really gotten in tune with her, she realized. He'd known where she was going with her line of inquiry.

"No." She answered sullenly. He wouldn't tell her the truth even if she did ask.

"Good." He commended darkly.

"You know it hits a nerve." She stated, feeling vulnerable. He hummed in acknowledgement but didn't say anything else on the topic. At some point, he'd reach his limit for tolerating her bullshit paranoia but for now it was better to just not respond.

"Sack fight yet?"

"Not yet. Should be on soon, or might've just started, I don't know." She answered distantly, still sour. "How's Tacoma?"

"Fine. Gettin' shit done." He answered noncommittally.

"You know when you'll be back?"

"Nah." He answered flatly, knowing it wouldn't cheer her up any but not feeling any desire to sugarcoat for her sake after the little fit she'd just thrown. Silence hung between them. She kicked a rock absently, trying to muster up conversation but having nothing to add. She'd called originally to feel comforted and all she felt was more frustrated. Through the line she heard voices but couldn't make out the words.

"Hey, I gotta go." He rasped.

"Okay… Good night." She responded dejectedly.

"Night. Be good." He responded simply, clearly distracted by whatever was happening on his end. She looked at her phone in annoyance. With a huff, she tucked her phone into her back pocket and went back inside, just in time to see Half-Sack go absolute apeshit on his competition.

"Jesus Christ." Sara mumbled to herself as the crowd went wild. She spotted the guys looking sour and angry. Serves them all right for all their shit they made ladies put up with, she mused. Sara spotted Cherry looked confused as well as the guys laid into Half-Sack quietly, clearly, they were unhappy with the outcome of the fight. All she knew was that she needed to get herself home before she made some bad decisions, like questioning Cherry about Indian Hills. Juice had said to let it go; Happy has said to let it go; so it seemed the thing to do was… let it go. Ugh.

She excused herself, saying goodbye to the Sons that weren't actively shouting at Half-Sack. She made sure to wave to Juice, who she knew would be reporting back to Happy. That was another thing that pissed her off. Juice was her friend. Now he was keeping tabs on her for Happy? Was nothing sacred?

She'd just gotten home from Half-Sack's fight only an hour ago. She had showered, eaten a quick snack before bed and was finally dozing off when her phone rang.

"I need you to meet me. Write down this address."

"Uhh… okay." Sara answered groggily and turned on the light on her nightstand. With the phone held to her ear with her shoulder, she jotted down the address Clay Morrow rattled off. "When?"

"Should take you less than an hour to get here."

"What? Now? Clay, its nearly midnight… Is everything all right? Is it Hap? Did something happen?" She was throwing back the blankets rapidly as the words tumbled from her mouth.

"Relax, it ain't him. See you soon." With that, the line disconnected, and Sara scoffed looking down at her phone. Jump; how high? Sure thing. Cue the eye roll.

"Un-fucking-believable."

"How'd it go, baby?" Gemma asking, sitting in bed, folding the corner of her book to mark her place. Clay only sighed and walked to his nightstand to remove his rings. "Where is he?"

"Sam Crow rehab." Clay answered, exhausted. "Up at the cabin with Sara."

"You're gonna end up owing her favors if you aren't careful." Gemma warned and Clay shrugged.

"I thought you trusted her?"

"I do, baby, that's why I don't want her mixed up in any of this bad history shit."

"She's useful and don't ask for shit. Shouldn't be a problem." Clay dismissed. He was fuckin' exhausted.

"She's more fragile than she looks." Gemma advised but Clay stayed silent. "What'd you tell Jax? About the bodies."

"Some of the truth."

"And Lowell?"

"A little more."

A/N: Here we are, finally getting into Sutter's storyline. Meant to get this posted sooner but was rewatching S1 for continuity reminders and sure enough, I had some major plot points in the wrong order. So I spent the better part of two days cutting and pasting things and then doing rewrites to make sure everything went smoothly. Glad I caught it though.

Some of you have asked about why it takes so long to update, or why my writing style is a little different now, and since most of these questions have seemed genuine rather than a critique:

-When I started the fic, four years and a half ago (2015) I had already been working on it for almost a year. I'd wrote out about 20 chapters fully, so I was able to post weekly for the first 20 weeks or so. I was in grad school and working full time, but still had a lot of time to just write for hours on end (especially when avoiding writing my thesis). Also, it was around S5 of SOA so I had plenty of inspiration.

-After I graduated, I: moved to a different country, started a job, changed apartments 3 times, developed an autoimmune disorder that nearly killed me and left me with severe anxiety, insomnia, depression, and PTSD. Then I moved back to the States, started ANOTHER job, and had a massive depressive episode. That was that solid year or two or so where I wasn't really updating much more than once every 6 months or so.

-So. Cut to now. While I do have a full time job, I've rediscovered my inspiration now that I'm out of my depression, which explains my recent updates and fervor for writing again.

-I am generally working on about 5 chapters at a time, sometimes more if I feel motivated, sometimes fewer. Sometimes I cut chapters in half or combine them. I have about 10 docs of snippets of scenes I've written a long time ago that I knew were meant for later chapters. Some of the upcoming chapters are OG chapters I wrote when I first started the story and have finally found their place. I generally go through about 10-15 rounds of edits for each chapter (the highest number of revisions on a single chapter was over 100), so by the time I post them, I hate them and want nothing to do with them because I've read them so many times.

-Just for your peek behind the curtain, the smut comes easier to me than the dialogue, which apparently is unusual. I blame Happy, who prefers to express his feelings and affections physically, rather than verbally. Also, I do go back and reread from the beginning every few months for continuity purposes (also I've forgotten a lot that happened!).

-I was to personally thank each and every one of you that has stuck with this story. I know its hard to stick with stories that go on this long. I get it. I do. So thank you for encouraging me, and for being supportive when I could barely get out of bed let alone write a compelling story. I have, in my own biased opinion, the best readers and followers out there. I see all of your favorites. I read all of your reviews. You inspire me. You guide me. So thank you. -L