October 2008
"Hey babe." She greeted as Happy came in the front door. "How was your day?" He grunted in response which she took as "good".
"You?" He asked toeing his shoes off by the door and hanging up his kutte.
"Fine. You home for the night?" She inquired, already guessing the answer.
"Nah, just needed a shower and then I'm heading back out. I'll be out all night with the guys. Why, you got plans for me tonight?" He teased. She snorted and shook her head as she flopped down on the couch.
"You wish. I'm meeting Tara for drinks later." She finally answered flipping through a fashion magazine. "There's a plate for you in the microwave." He eyed the pile of dishes in the sink she had yet to clean but bit back his comment about keeping a clean household.
"Since when are you and the doc close?" He asked gruffly, popping open a beer. Something in his tone irritated her. Why did he give a shit who she hung out with?
"Since when does it matter?" She shot back as she skimmed an article. "We work in the same building. Ran into each other. She's new in town, so I figured she could use a friend, plus I need more girlfriends."
"You know she's from Charming, right?" He retorted, trying to ignore her first sassy remark. Something about her tone was bothering him.
"She's smart and doesn't take any bullshit. I like her." Sara responded calmly, flipping the page.
"What about Jax?"
"What about Jax?" She repeated not getting his point. He wasn't her VP.
"She's Jax's old lady."
"Not really. Not anymore; that was like in... highschool. Besides, what does that matter?" Sara mused. Happy shot her a dark look.
"You know that shit ain't easily given up."
"It better be considering his wife and baby mama." She started pointedly.
"—ex-wife—" He interjected with a sip of beer. She rolled her eyes. As far as she was concerned, Wendy was Jax's Old Lady, unless he knew something she didn't. Sure, she was on the outs because of the whole OD-while-seven-months-pregnant thing, but by biker logic, that made her more of an Old Lady than a highschool sweetheart.
"And besides, tell that to Bobby. Or Tig. Or Kozik." She joked with an eyeroll. He glared at her and her blue eyes narrowed in challenge. Their differing opinions on the longevity of Old Ladyship was probably the one thing they'd never seen eye-to-eye on.
She couldn't stand his hypocrisy on the topic; if he was so sure that being an old lady extended well beyond the length of the relationship, then why was he even with her? To make matters worse, lately he'd been going out of his way to make snide comments about Ryan's tattoo or wanting her to cover it up when they went to parties. He'd asked her to change out of backless tops on numerous occasions claiming it disrespected him to have her ex's claim to her on display at club events. Whenever she pushed back, stating her and Ryan had been over for a while and he shouldn't be so sensitive, he'd ask why she wouldn't get it covered up then. She'd point out that Kozik never got his ex-wife's name covered up and he still dated other people. Happy claimed it was because she was the mother of his child and the conversation usually ended with Sara mumbling about Kozik hardly being in his daughter's life anyway and Happy glaring.
He got irritated when she made a joke out of everything. She was his first Old Lady, and it pissed him off that she didn't seem to take it nearly as seriously as he did. He wasn't sure if she was just young and spirited, or if she genuinely was so jaded that she didn't take their relationship seriously.
"Also, if Tara is Jax's Old Lady by your own logic, wouldn't it be a good thing that I'm spending time with her?"
"What's your fucking deal?" He probed with a huff.
"What's my deal? What's your deal? I just don't understand why it matters! You're going out anyway; what do you care if I hang out with Tara? You don't act like this when I hang out with Donna."
"You and Donna stay in. Don't like you goin' out without me." So that was the problem?
"Wow, you can stop right there, guard dog." She responded with a snort. "I can have friends, you know. Again, aren't Tara and Jax on good terms again? You should be elated I'm spending time with your VP's ex-Old Lady. And we're not 'going out', it's just drinks; not like we're gonna go strip at amateur night."
"Could you just listen to me, for once?" He grumbled throwing the bottle cap into the trash forcefully.
"Could you act like a normal fucking person, for once?" She shot back as her temper flared. She tossed the magazine on the coffee table and crossed her arms.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"I don't tell you not to go out with your friends!" She pointed out. "You're out all night doing God knows what, or who, and I don't say shit."
"Really? 'Cause I think you say shit about it all the goddamn time; in fact, I'm fucking sick of hearing your shit about it. That's it. Your ass is staying home."
"Are you fucking grounding me?" She scoffed in disbelief, infuriated. He simply shrugged. "I am not a child. I am your girlfriend."
"If you can't make smart choices, then I guess I'll have to make them for you."
"Dammit, Happy, I'm twenty-three! I should be allowed to go have fun with my friends! Stop trying to control my whole life!" She shouted. She wasn't sure where all of this was coming from—she never really felt like he was smothering her or anything— but when she'd heard him ground her like a child, it triggered rage deep within her. How dare he tell her she couldn't go out with her friends.
"What? You wanna go 'round and get shit-faced and fuck random douchebags like every other twenty-three year old slut? Be my fucking guest—"
"Oh, so now I'm a slut because I want to hang out with Tara? Real nice logic there, Hap. Sorry that I don't just want to cook your fucking meals and get you more beer. Heaven forbid I do anything for myself!" Her words hit him hard. Was that how he'd been treating her?
"It ain't like that, Sara—"
"Oh, master, I'm so sorry, master. Let me get you another beer, sir. Would you like a fine cigar as well, sir? I live to serve." She shouted dramatically.
"Sare—" He rolled his eyes and set his jaw.
"Why don't you just chain me to the goddamn radiator so I don't sneak out when you're gone?"
"Jesus Christ, shut up!" He shouted, making her jump. "Could you stop being a bitch for like, five fucking minutes?" Happy growled in irritation. Sara's eyes blazed. She was getting real fucking sick of getting called a bitch.
"Don't talk to me that way!" She snapped, walking out of the room and down the hall. She heard his bootsteps behind her before she heard his voice.
"Don't fucking walk away from me." She rolled her eyes as she entered the bedroom. She threw open her closet and started fishing through it for an outfit to wear in silence, ignoring the impatient man behind her. He hated being ignored.
"Are you going to fucking talk to me?" He finally asked sharply.
"No." She answered simply, continuing to look through her hanging clothes. "We're both in bad moods, so I'm better off just not talking right now so I don't say something I'll regret." She stated sullenly, trying to take the high road. Suddenly, his hand wrapping around her arm and she was turned around to face him. His grip tightened painfully as she tried to pull her arm free.
"The fuck is that supposed to mean? You got shit to say to me?" He practically growled, eyes threateningly dark.
"Let go." She hissed, feeling her fight-or-flight instincts bubbling to the surface. She was surprised when he immediately acquiesced, crossed his arms, and blocked her exit with his imposing height towering over her like a sentinel. "What do you want me say, Hap? Anytime I say anything you call me a 'fucking bitch', so what's the point?"
"Because you say it like a fucking bitch. Will you just fucking talk to me, for real? Without the sarcastic commentary?" His tone reflected his quiet seriousness and she recognized him trying to rein in his own temper and cut through her bullshit attitude. Fuck, if he was gonna try, she had to try. She sighed before nodding and gesturing towards the bed. They sat on the edge, facing each other.
"I'm tired, Hap. I'm tired of the club, and you, controlling what I do all the time. I'm sick of sitting at home while you are out for late nights, and—and worrying if every time my phone rings when you aren't home that it's one of the guys calling to say you got arrested… or worse." She whispered rubbing her hands on her upper arms, trying in vain to warm the chill radiating from inside. "I just feel like all I do is sit around and wait for something to go wrong."
"You know this is the life." He responded helplessly. She nodded slowly.
"I know."
"None of this is new."
"I know. Doesn't mean I can't question it. Or be annoyed with it. Or sick of it."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It's your life, and I'm just… I'm not sure if it's my life." She chewed her lip and studied him as his brow furrowed in confusion. "That feeling you feel at the thought of me being out alone, that's how I feel all of the time when you are gone. I feel like I always put my life on hold to accommodate the club schedule. I've never done anything in my life without thinking about how it would affect the club, or my life with the club, or what the club would think or do…"
"So… what're you saying then?" He asked with the smallest crack in his voice.
"Nothing. I'm just… thinking about the big picture."
"What big picture?"
"I dunno. Life. You. Me. Where it's all going." He paled a little.
"What you mean like getting hitched?"
"What? No! I mean. Not that specifically."
"Then what're you talking about?"
"I just keep thinking… Am I going to wake up someday and look at my life and wish I'd done more when I was young? I'm not saying I want to go out and party, but I don't want to put my life on hold." She sighed. "Like, am I just going to be some white trash biker girl my whole life?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"I dunno, the whole club life is starting to get to me I think; I think why I'm so drawn to Tara is because she was in it, and left, and seems to be coming back. So, there's gotta be something here, right? I guess I just want to know what that's like… To not be born and bred, to have had a choice on what life could be. I wanna know if I'm here because it's all I know, or because it's what I want. I don't know, I'm not making any sense." She stated, shaking her head to clear her swirling thoughts. "I sound stupid, I know."
"You do have a choice. That's why you're going to school 'n shit. I ain't never tried to hold you back from shit." He pointed out rationally, although his nerves were starting to fray.
"No but you literally just tried to ground me from hanging out with a doctor, who is a friend of club… What's gonna happen when I need to go to study groups? When I make friends in my classes that I want to hang out with? What happens when I want to hang out with people outside the life? I don't know. Maybe I'm just overthinking things but it all just freaks me out." She sighed; her face screwed up as she stared off in thought, her teeth chewing on her raw lips. He watched her closely in silence before dragging his hand over his face.
"Look, are we good?" He finally asked, his stomach in knots. "Cause I need to know if you got one foot out the door."
"Yes, we are good." She answered immediately.
"You sure?"
"If there's one thing I'm sure about; it's us." She stated firmly, squeezing his hand. "I just… I need some room to breathe. I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing." He squeezed back before sighing.
"Do you want out?" He nearly whispered.
"I don't know. I don't think so…" Her trembling voice echoed as she ran her hand through her hair.
"Well it's pretty simple, Sare: you either want me or you don't. If we're good, then you don't want out. If you want out, then we ain't good."
"It's not that simple—"
"—it is that simple—" he interjected, his voice rising in agitation.
"No, it's not. I want you. I don't want the club."
"I am the club!" He practically shouted. "The club is my life Sara! You can't ask me to walk away from that."
"… I'm not. I… I wouldn't do that…" She whispered defeatedly. His eyebrows rose.
"So, then you'd just leave… me?" He asked swallowing the dry lump in his throat. She picked at some invisible lint on the bedspread as she avoided his eyes.
"No." She stated firmly. "No, I'm just confused. This shit with my brother and just everything in the last few years; everyone I knew is fucked up or in jail or hurt… it's just all got me spun out. I just… I'm just scared to lose everything, everyone, all over again. I didn't want to say anything because I knew it would blow up into something bigger," she explained before adding, "but you're the best part of all of it, Hap."
"Sara…" He stated weakly, unsure of what to say.
"I'm serious; I wasn't expecting this," she gestured between them, "but it's been the best thing that could have come out of the chaos that is my life. I wouldn't have been able to get through all this shit with my club dissolving and my brother's accident without you." Everything she was saying was right, and he felt the same about her, but instead of bringing him comfort, it just made him feel sick as he remembered his promise to her ex. It'd seemed so stupid and farfetched at the time to picture her leaving, but here she was questioning it. She deserved better than to be an Old Lady. She deserved better than having to wait out any inevitable prison time. She deserved better than the life he could give her. He knew it was only a matter of time before she realized it about herself. That she was so much better than Charming and the Sons. She was beautiful, and young, and brilliant, and caring. And he was selfish for trying to keep her to himself, but dammit, he wasn't going to let her go easily. She was his life now, just as much as his bike or his club or his ma.
She mattered. She mattered so much it had part of him wavering, wondering about life outside the club. Wondering if he could hack it as a normal blue-collar man. Would he even be able to step away, for real? Was that even enough for her? She deserved some fancy doctor or lawyer that could give her everything. A man that wasn't out all night. A man that wouldn't go to prison at any minute. A man that lied to her. A man that didn't kill for business and pleasure.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she continued to pick at the blanket. She pulled on a piece of coiled string and pulled, watching it spring back when she released.
"This is stupid. I feel like we're having this huge discussion for no reason over nothing. I'm sorry, I just freaked out, don't even worry about it or actually, just forget I said anything about it at all." She stated with a sigh, trying to patch things over. She didn't want him thinking she was wishy-washy, "I'm fine; we're fine. I promise. I'll stay home, it's okay."
"No, you should go meet the Doc; you were right. I just don't like the thought of anything happening to you. You know how I get about things..." He stated, gesturing to his head, and by implication his compulsions. Control was important to him.
"I know, and I don't like to make things harder for you." She sighed. Now that he was telling her she could go, she had lost interest in going. Drinks with Tara no longer seemed important after their conversation. It certainly wasn't worth sending Hap into an OCD tizzy over.
"Go. I'll be fine." He assured. She nodded quietly, still picking at the blanket. "I love you. You know that, right?" He finally asked quietly. She nodded again but kept her eyes fixed down, embarrassed by the whole ordeal. His hand moved to her chin to lift her eyes to meet his. Her blue eyes were shiny with unshed tears. She sniffed and blinked a few times trying to clear them.
"I love you." He repeated more firmly. "Say it back," he urged in an almost childish way, pressing his forehead to hers and wrapping his fingers in her hair to clutch her tightly.
"I love you." She whispered with a tremble.
"Again." He urged, suddenly needing reassurance. She was still really just a kid, he realized. She would certainly figure out how amazing she really was and leave him. She was too good for him. He was a killer. An outlaw. The thought of her leaving had his heart pounding. He could feeling it building like a thundercloud on the horizon; it didn't matter when it happened, it would be too soon. Anxiety crawled beneath his skin as all of his shadows and demons whispered in his head. He felt it claw against his ribs, and his grip tightened on her hair as he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
"I love you, Happy Lowman. I won't leave you." She murmured leaning in to kiss him warmly, her sunshine cutting through the darkness he was feeling. His lips parted to allow her tongue as she climbed into his lap, straddling her legs around him. She knew him so intimately; knew what he was feeling and what he needed. How could he have questioned how serious she was about him? She showed him constantly that she was in this all the way. His therapist would tell him he shouldn't use sex to treat his anxiety, but his therapist would never know him as truly and deeply as the little blonde wrapped around him now. There was a silent urgency in their movements as they undressed each other. Soon, she was moaning softly in his ear as he moved inside her.
"Happy!" She whispered, arching beneath him. Her nails clawed at his back desperately as his slow thrusts pushed deep into her. There was an intensity building between them that consumed her fully, so deeply, that she felt her entire soul could shatter and that she would be okay with that.
"I love you." He whispered it over and over and over filling the air around them with his declarations as his body echoed his words.
"Please, Happy!" She gasped not even knowing what she wanted or what she needed from him.
"Anything, baby. Anything for you." He mumbled into her neck before kissing the column of her throat.
A/N: Thoughts? Review and let me know! Things will get very plot-driven from here on out, so buckle up, reader.