October 2008

"There's no way Opie would flip." Sara snorted with absolute conviction as she pulled two plates from her cupboard. Happy grunted behind her to indicate his uncertainty on the topic. Under the advisement of some of the more senior club members, he'd been trying to be more open with her, so he told her about Bobby's arrest for the murder of Brenan Hefner and that Opie, Donna, and the kids had been picked up by the feds. He was pretty sure they hadn't been talking about inner-club politics when they'd said to include her in more club shit, but she'd made some good points when she'd said she deserved to know shit that would affect her. Donna was her best friend, ergo, it would affect her. Besides, Sara knew when to keep her mouth shut.

"He's got a lotta shit on the line," Happy disagreed from his spot leaning against the counter behind her, half-empty beer bottle hanging from the fingers of one hand.

"Like what?"

"Like a wife and kids. They have shit ton of debt; a mortgage that's behind on payments; health insurance…"

"That's the same shit everyone has to deal with… none of that is new. Why would he flip now?"

"You know Donna'll walk if he goes back in. She's been defensive about the club for a while now," Happy argued with a pointed look. The blonde shrugged as she plated some of the food before checking the other pots to determine if they were finished.

"Can you blame her? Her husband did five years for the club and left her with no real income and two babies," Sara defended curtly. Happy watched her silently, trying to determine how to navigate the emotional minefield before him. The club-comes-first attitude was still an exposed nerve and he'd been working his ass off to ingratiate himself to her again.

"Would you walk if it were you?" He asked after a moment.

"If you left me with two kids and no income?" She asked turning to face him with crossed arms and an amused face. He nodded.

"Leave? Maybe. Go to the feds? Never." She stated firmly before turning back to the stove.

"I think it's bullshit. Donna's loyal." Sara reiterated. When he didn't respond she glanced over her shoulder at him. His brow was furrowed, and she sobered a little, seeing how much this was weighing on him. Her gaze snapped him out of whatever he was thinking about before she could ask.

"Is she?" He pressed, giving her a pointed look as he reached past her for cutlery. "She took the kids to her mom's already. She's got one foot out the door."

"Again, leaving and ratting are two separate things," she sighed in annoyance before continuing, "Just because she needs space doesn't mean she's leave."

"Sure it does."

"I needed space. I didn't flip," she pointed out rationally.

"That was different."

"How so?" she asked.

"She ain't you," he stated with a shrug.

"Ok fine, for the sake of argument, let's say she's leaving. If she already has one foot out the door like you say, she wouldn't risk her kids' safety. I know she's not the warmest about Club shit, but she knows what's at stake. And if not, Opie will explain it to her."

"She might if she thinks she'll get Ope to come with her. Start a new life."

"Would you?

"What?"

"Leave if I asked you to."

"You askin' me to?"

"No, I'm just saying. If we were in their position, with kids and the whole thing…"

"Leave? Maybe. Go to the feds? Never." He echoed with a clever smirk. She rolled her eyes but smiled briefly in amusement. Her smile dropped with a sigh and a passing thought.

"After my dad..." She swallowed a lump in her throat before continuing, "That's a pretty good cautionary tale of what happens when you flip. At least if she stays with the Club, she won't be looking over her shoulder waiting for someone to show up and kill her whole family." Her words were honest, but Happy couldn't help but flinch.

"I'm telling you, it's a set up. That Stahl bitch knows what she's doing. She knows how to get you guys paranoid and you're all walking right into it."

"What'd she threaten you with?" He asked curiously. They hadn't gotten into the details of her interrogation but now seemed as good a time as any.

"Brought up all my previous charges. When that didn't work, she talked about Ryan, and then you, and then basically implied you paid off Ryan so you could fuck me."

"What?" He hissed. She gave him an amused smile.

"Relax, I know you didn't." She soothed before jokingly adding, "You couldn't afford me anyway."

"It's not funny." He sulked, and Sara regretted her words. She knew he was sensitive about the specifics of their fight and he hadn't been able to find much humor despite her best attempts. "What else did this bitch say?"

"Threatened to tell all the grad schools I applied to that I was linked to a federal murder case and ruin my whole career." She mumbled quickly before shrugging.

"I'm sorry, what?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"You heard me." She sighed.

"Well, she ain't gonna do that."

"She might." Sara hummed, not convinced. "You weren't there, Hap. I mean, she's dead set on bringing down the Club. She doesn't care who she destroys along the way."

"It'll be fine." He assured, and she bit her tongue. Him trying to protect her and keep her in the dark was what started this whole thing.

He let his thoughts wander as she finished stirring the pots on the stovetop and turned off the burners. Things had finally started to get back to normal between them. She wasn't crying every time she looked at him anymore or pulling away when he reached for her. He'd asked for an extended leave from Tacoma, promising to proxy in any votes he was needed for. With the ATF shit going down, Lee hadn't made much of an argument for him to return to Washington since Clay would probably be calling him back anyway.

They were sleeping in the same bed, but they hadn't slept together since they'd tentatively made up. He'd made a few moves, but she'd flinched. It was a massive blow to his ego, but he'd kept his mouth shut and had waited, despite his own needs. He'd dug this grave when he'd laid hands on her; he just had to deal with the consequences of that until she was ready to move past it. The fact she hadn't completely kicked his ass to the curb yet amazed him, and he still wasn't wholly convinced it wasn't going to happen.

"Ready to eat?" She asked, pulling him back to the present. He nodded silently, following her to the table as she set the plates down. He took a seat as she went back and grabbed him a fresh beer. Dinner was uneventful, but also uninteresting. They stuck to safe topics, and the tried-and-true format of her doing most of the talking and him just letting her ramble. At this point he knew he should just be grateful she was even still talking to him but the more he listened, watching her tempting lips move with each word or her face as she savored each bite, the more he wanted to taste her.

As she cleared the table of their empty plates, he watched her closely as if scanning her for potential rejection. She seemed calmer and more at peace tonight than she had recently, so there was no time like the present. She hummed quietly to herself as she started filling the sink with hot soapy water, the sound of the basketball game he'd turned on before dinner playing in the background. When his hands slid over her hips from behind, she startled before giggling. He hated that she was jumpy around him.

"Thanks for dinner." He whispered into her ear before pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive pulse point below it.

"Of course." She beamed proudly and swallowing as the caress of his lips woke parts of her that she'd forced down. Her stomach tightened nervously as her hands gripped the edge of the sink. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden?

Her eyes were pointed at the running facet but were starting to glaze over as his lips moved down the column of her throat, pressing slow, soft kisses along the way. His hand darted out suddenly and turned off the tap, and she was immediately pulled back to the fact the sink was nearly spilling over.

"Distracted?" He chuckled lowly, his raspy voice racing straight to her core. She pressed her eyes closed and swallowed again as his fingers caressed down her hips to her thighs.

"Hap, I need to do dishes…" She whined, but since she didn't push him away or protest with any real feeling behind it, he didn't stop. His fingers traced the hem of her denim shorts, the callouses of his fingers scratching at her soft skin.

"Soak 'em." He dismissed, sweeping her hair off of her shoulder to open her neck to him more.

"But the water…it'll… get cold…" She tried to argue, lamely. He dipped his hand into the warm water and lifted a cupped palm before splashing it down the front of her white tanktop, drenching her.

"Oops…" He joked playfully, raking his teeth over his shoulder to hide his chuckle as she shrieked in surprise. "Guess you'll need to take this off." She huffed but let him pull the damp garment over her head. He dropped it on the counter beside them as his warm hands returned to her chilled, bare skin. She leaned back into his chest as his fingertips dragged torturously slow across her belly before wrapping around either breast. He looked over her shoulder down at them, lifting them a few times to test their weight, as if they might have changed in the days since he'd touched her last.

She leaned to turn her face up towards his, nipping at his sharp jawline. A quiet groan escaped him as his hips involuntarily pressed into hers.

"Hap—" She started, quietly; her unsure tone made him tighten his grasp on her breasts. He didn't want to let go now.

"Don't. Let's just… go slow." He pleaded softly, turning her to face him and pressing his lips to hers before she could get another word out. His actions had the desired effect, and she seemed to lose her train of thought as her mouth molded to his. He released a shaky breath of relief as her arms snaked around his neck and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her eager mouth.

He moaned quietly, grateful to have her mouth again. The past week or more had been draining. He hadn't been able to sleep much more than a few hours a night when he'd been at the clubhouse and spent his nights tossing and turning until he finally got up and went for a ride. His thoughts had been consumed by her, sending his anxiety and compulsions into a tailspin. He'd scrubbed the bathroom in his dorm at the clubhouse until it sparkled, and his hands bled from the caustic chemicals. He knew he should've worn gloves, but the pain felt warranted. He deserved it.

As he cleaned, he'd obsessed over her. Replaying their fight over in his head. Trying to justify the hit on her father despite the pain it obviously was causing her. He knew now that most of her pain stemmed from the feeling of betrayal rather than bereavement but seeing her broken had recalled his own feelings of loss when his father had been killed. He didn't like the feelings of guilt that filled him. It made him question things that shouldn't be questioned; it was unfamiliar and definitely unwelcome. He reveled in killing and in death; he did not feel guilt.

Despite being invited back into her home, he'd still felt like he was on the chopping block, as if she might change her mind suddenly and kick him back out. Or worse, now that he'd told her he'd promised Ryan she had an out if she wanted it, he was afraid she'd take it. He knew her trust in him had been shaken, and it would be a while before they were completely stable again, but she was much more forgiving than he could ever be and seemed to be soldiering on as best she could.

Happy's thoughts returned to the moment as her nails grazed the skin on the back of his neck. She swallowed his low moan and pressed her breasts to his chest. He felt the mood shift towards desperation as she rubbed against him. Finally. He broke the kiss.

"You sure?" He asked breathlessly. He didn't want to face her rejection again, but he also didn't want to go any further if it was inevitable. She nodded, her lips plump and red from their kissing. Her cheeks were flushed; her sad, grayish eyes had turned the bright blue he'd come to associate with her state of arousal. He didn't need more encouragement than that and he dipped his head back to her mouth. His hands gathered her up around his waist, wrapping her long legs around his hips and carrying her to the bedroom.

They collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, her giggle ringing joyfully in his ears. He felt it resonant all the way down into his heart, and he swore it skipped a beat. Fuck. He'd missed this. He smiled down at her, his hand gripping her thigh as her leg wrapped around his waist.

"I love you." He murmured, burying his face in her neck as he felt flooded with emotion.

"I love you too." She mumbled back, arching as he pulled her bra straps off her shoulder to lap at the skin of her collarbone. They both surrendered to their desires and need for both closure and closeness.

A/N: Hope everyone is safe and healthy. Read & review.