Wow! I'm really surprised by how many people like my newest fic! Thank you all, so very much for all the subscriptions, favorites, and reviews. They really do mean a lot :] DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything Kurt Sutter, SOA, or FX related. Williams family is my creation. BTW, anyone know Happy's real first and last names? I can't find them...

Chapter Two

"Hey, dad."

The way she said it, it was as if she had been saying the words her whole life, practising for this one moment. A purse sat on my daughter's shoulders and she dropped her car keys into it before latching her arms around my neck. I was sure I looked like a total pussy infront of the other guys as I held her tightly. But it had been 27 years since I saw her. At this point I didn't care if they saw me cry.

But I pulled away from Callie and tried to get a good look at her. Her hair and body type were her mother's, to the T. But her eyes and skin, that was all mine. I hoped she had my charming personality as well. She smiled again, studying me. I could help but feel a little selfconcious about my bald head. My head wasn't bald because I had no hair, but because I liked to keep it that way. Less maintenence.

"So, are you going to let the girl in or make her sleep on the porch?" Chibs called, breaking my focus on my child. No, she wasn't a child anymore. But I felt that she would always be that little girl in the picture Jess had sent me out of pity when I reached out to her when the kids were four. I stepped to the side, allowing Callie to come into the house.

I watched cautiously as she looked around, admiring the knick knacks my mother had demanded be put on the walls or in cabinets. Remembering that there were three other men in the house, I got a little nervous. Did she know about the MC? I doubted it; if Jess had neglected to tell her who I was or where I lived then she wouldn't have said anything about the Sons. Callie saw what was on the tv and smiled.

"Hey," Tig tok a few steps forward from where he had been standing near the couch, extending his hand for a handshake. "Welcome to Charming."

Callie took his hand and shook in polietly. "Thanks. Name's Callie."

"Tig."

Juice was next to introduce himself. That dumbass smile of his scored his face as he told my daughter his name and engaged her in a momentary conversation.

"Nice to finally meet you, lassie," Chibs was the last to speak. "Your da talked about you and your brother often enough," Callie gave a small laugh and glanced back at me for a moment. "Real name's Filip, but call me Chibs."

"Don't tell me, you're Scottish." She noted. I almost rolled my eyes and said 'no shit,' but it was her first time meeting him.

"Ah!" A wide smile grew on his face. "How about where I lived? Can you tell me that?"

"Hmn," Callie thought about it for a while. Juice, Tig, and myself watched, waiting to see if she would guess the right city. "I'm going to say Glasgow?"

"You've got a smart one here, Hap." Chibs winked at me.

"Hey, uh, you hungry?" I asked, not knowing what to do next. Should I lead her to the kitchen or wait until she said something?

"No, not really. I had a big lunch in Los Angeles with a couple friends."

"Something to drink, then?"

"Uh, water will be fine." Callie shrugged, taking her purse off her shoulder. "Do you have a bathroom I can use? My contacts are drying out."

I pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, which was up the stairs. As Callie walked up the stairs, I glared at my friends who watched her as she walked away. I glowered at the three of them. Chibs caught my my scowl, widened his eyes and sat at the table. Juice and Tig whispered amongst themselves; the only thing I caught wass "that ass." Narrowing my eyes, I punch Juice in the shoulder, squarely on the bone. I turned to Tig who held up his hands, apologising profusely. Pushing past both of them I got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.

Callie came downstairs not long after I had sat the glass down at the seat next to where I sat. On my right sat Chibs, Tig, and then Juice who was attempting to nurse his injured shoulder. My daughter wore glasses and took a long drink of her water before sitting at the table. The long hair that had framed her face was pulled back into a tail. Her sidebangs hung in her face. With her hand she guided the bangs out of her eyes.

"So, what's been going on lately?" She asked, popping the knuckles in her hands. I smiled to myself; if I remembered correctly, Jess hated that. Claimed it caused arthritis. But I had done it anyway and Callie had followed in my footsteps. I wondered if Davy was more like their mother.

"We're going to Canada."

Tig ran a hand through his hair and Chibs shook his head. Callie widened her eyes a little bit and nodded. I rolled my eyes; there goes Juice, blabbing about shit he shouldn't have. "I've been to Canada. It's just like the States."

An awkwad silence fell over the four of us. Callie took a drink of water, Tig counted the tiles on the kitchen floor, and the other two stared off into space. I decided it was up to me to keep a conversation.

"How was the drive?"

Callie sighed sharply. "Looong. Morning traffic in Austin was awful, as usual, and I made it to LA had lunch and had enough time to miss traffic. Other than that it was vast emptiness."

"Is that a new BMW or used?" Tig asked, adding to the conversation. I was still kind of burnt that he has commented on my daughter's rear end in front of me. However, I was thankful that he wasn't letting the conversation die.

"It's a 2007 model and I bought it for ten grand from an elderly couple in 2008. They paid for it in full but were tired of it. It was either that or a Range Rover. But after extensive research, I decided against the Rover." Callie explained. Juice opened his mouth to reply but Callie spoke first. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have to know. What's with the leather vests?"

The four of us exchanged glances. Over the years we had explained the MC to many women, but for those who had kids, it didn't need to be explained. I had once thought of how I would explain the Sons of Anarchy to my kids if I had ever met them, but now that the time was here, I froze. Callie wasn't a child, so I couldn't trim the fat on what the MC did. But she also wasn't a member or an old lady, so she wasn't privy to everything.

"We're in a gang," Juice said, stupidly.

"It's a club." Tig and Chibs stated firmly.

"We're more like motorcycle enthusiasts." I chipped in.

Callie gave us all a blank stare. I could tell she was taking it all in, wondering whether to believe the whole truth, the somewhat truth, or the bare minimal truth. Really, they were all the truth, just some more correct than others. "So which is it? Gang or club?"

"Club." Tig spoke up.

"So are you guys a club of grease monkeys who ride around on bikes and fix cars? Or are there underlying illegal activities?" Callie had summed up everything about the club in those two sentences. I looked at the others before answering.

"Er, yes."

"Is it just the four of you...?"

"No," I took the opportunity to answer this time. "There are others. I invited them to be here, but I'm not sure where they are."

"Oh," Callie nodded, taking another drink of her water.

My father was in a biker gang. The rap sheet I had recieved in Texas hadn't said anything about this so called club. For the first time ever, I wasn't surprised my mother hadn't wanted to tell Davy and I that detail. However, the three members I had met so far seemed really nice. I secretly hoped the rest would be as kind as these three.

Chibs was an older fellow, with greying black hair and a gray goatee on his chin. On both sides of his mouth where long scars, obviously where he got the nickname Chibs. Tig had dark, curly hair on his head and facial hair as well. The blue eyes that were his were slightly haunting. Juice, however, was a child compared to the other two. His hair was brown but styled in a shortly cropped mohawk. One both sides of his mohawk were tribal lighting bolt tattoos. I wondered, sense I had to take several breaks getting a smallish sparrow sitting on a branch of a cherry tree because of the pain, how badly his had hurt.

The guys called my dad Happy and I kind of wondered why, but I didn't really feel like asking. He looked exactly as he had in his mug shot, which must have been a recent one. Little to no hair, and of the stubbles I could see, they were graying. He had dark skin, darker than mine. Which was understandable; he was all Mexican and my mother's Caucasian genes watered down my color.

In my jeans pokcet, my cell phone began to ring. Rolling my eyes, already knowing who it was, I pulled the smartphone from my back pocket and slid the answer bar to decline. The group of bikers watched me as I texted a halfassed excuse why I didn't answer my phone. In at least four seconds, I had gotten three texts, chastising me for ignoring the call. As a solution to the texting, I turned off my phone.

"Was that your mother?" My father asked, sitting back in his chair. I nodded.

"Hap, I told you that gash was bad news. Fuckin' psycho." Chibs shook his head.

"Well, she did give him kids..." Juice spoke softly.

"And then took them like, 2,000 miles away. Even my ex let me see my kids when they were growing up," Tig defended my dad. "But not one call, email, text, or letter until Callie was in college."

"That letter had to come from missy here, too. I wonder why your boy didn't try and contact you."

"Jess-" Dad began to speak, but I wanted to answer. Davy was my twin, the friend who always had my back. I couldn't let his reputation go to the dogs without even trying to defend him.

"From an early age mom's brainwashing got to Davy," I interrupted my dad, giving him an apologetic look. "She told us that you were often drunk and sleeping with other women. As we got older, I took it with a grain of salt and Davy took it to heart. Everytime I mentioned trying to find you, he'd roll his eyes. Or say something to the effect of he and I were meaningless to you, 'if dad wanted us, he wouldn't have treated mom so badly.'"

Silence fell over the dinette, and I sort of wished I hadn't said as much as I did. At least not infront of the others. I studied my dad's face. It was hard to tell if he was angry or thinking of what to say. Looking at the other guys, they seemed to be wondering the same. With my thumb nail, I chipped at the table we sat at, flaking away little pieces of wood.

"Hey, it's almost five thirty. Clay wants us for chapel tonight at six." My dad said, breaking the most awkward silence I have ever sat through. The other three murmured, remembering their meeting and standing from the table. I felt it impolite to just sit there while everyone left, so I stood and said goodbyes and nice to meet you's.

While the other three got on their motorcylces and roared off, my father shut the door and scratched a spot behind his ear. I felt awful and wished I could somehow take what I had said back. He shook his head and gave me a light smile which he also paired with another hug. I hadn't really noticed it before, but when I returned his embrace, I took a nice whiff of my dad's cologne. Somehow, it seemed rather familiar.

"Shall I take you on a grand tour?" He asked, putting an arm over my shoulder. I could still smell his cologne. Trying to pinpoint where I had smelt this before, I attempted to answer without hestitating.

"Sure, but if you need to get going, then I won't hold you up."

"Ah," Dad waved his hand, dismissing being late. "Clay'll understand. You'll like Clay. And Gemma. Anyway, you saw the living room, kitchen and front porch. How much of upstairs did you see?"

"Uh, just the hallway and bathroom."

With the light smile still on his face, my dad lead me upstairs. There was a door immediately on my right after we got up to the landing that I hadn't noticed before. On the left was the hallway, one door was there right after we turned onto the hallway and then perhaps ten feet down the hall was another door, next to it the bathroom I used and a few more feet down, another room.

"Well, this is your room," He pointed towards the door on the left of the bathroom. "The one on the right it a guest room, and the door all the way down the hall, on the right of the stairs is mine. I really hate to leave you all alone, but I can take you to the clubhouse someother time. See you later?"

"Of course, we do live in the same house. At least for now." I nodded. My father gave me one last hug. I couldn't help but be a little surprised when he added a kiss on my temple before leaving.

As he walked down the hallway, I took notice of the back of his leather vest. On the top was an arched patch that said Sons of Anarchy and on the bottom of the vest was another arched patch that said California. In between the two arches was a bigger patch, a Reaper with a crystal ball in his left hand. In the Reaper's right hand was a rifle with a sythe attached to the tip of the guns barrel. On the crystal ball was the outline of an "A" with a circle around it. The symbol of anarchy. With a small sigh, I entered my room. I hoped I wasn't getting myself into something dangerous.

Eleven fully patched members of the Redwood Original chapter sat around the table. It had been decided that everyone would pool as much money together as we could to pay the bounty hunter that would find Jax's kid. Poor guy had been broken up for weeks over the kidnapping of his only child. It probably didn't help that his mom was on the lam for a crime she didn't commit. Clay had decided that Tig would ride up to Rogue River in the morning to watch Gemma with a few others of the Oregon Sons.

"So I hear, one child is gone and another has appeared. Hap?" Clay looked up at me. I was a little surprised to see so many sets of eyes on me. How badly I wanted to roll my eyes; I couldn't lie and say my kids weren't here. Three of us already knew. I couldn't help shooting a glare at Tig. It was most likely him who had blabbed it to Clay.

"Yeah, my daughter's moved here. She got a job offer which was better than the one she had in Austin." I admitted.

"It probably helps that her daddy's here, too, huh?" Jax commented, a little smile on his face.

No, you little shit, I thought while laughing with the rest of the guys. You will not touch her. It was then I decided to keep that thought to myself. Twenty-seven years had passed since I saw her, I barely knew her. I couldn't just go off half cocked at every guy who looked at her lustfully. Already I had done too much by hitting Juice on the shoulder.

"When're we going to meet her?" Clay asked.

"I did invite you guys over tonight," I reminded them all. Each member who had not shown up either looked away or pretended they didn't hear me. "But I'll have to talk to Callie, see what her plans are."

"Bring her over tomorrow," Clay offered. "It'll be Saturday, she won't be working."

I nodded. "Alright, I'll ask her when I get home."

"Awww, Happy's gone all daddy on us," Kozik spoke, using a mocking tone. Some of the guys laughed along with him and a few shook their heads.

"Don't push your luck." I growled.

"Alright, alright," Clay chuckled. "Easy boys. Chapel dismissed."

As the gavel hit it's block, everyone stood and left the privacy of the chapel and headed to the bar. Looking at the display on my phone, I noticed it was barely seven. I watched as everyone headed for the bar, even Jax who had a distraught old lady at home to take care of. Clay looked more defeated than his stepson. I couldn't remember a time when Clay didn't have Gemma by his side. It was time like these thatI had always been glad my kids were out of state, protected by the Satan's Spawn. I was slightly appalled that I had found that if Jess had been framed, for something she didn't commit, that I would be willing to turn her in.

I left the clubhouse, headed for my bike where it sat with all the others. Tig walked behind me, lighting a fresh cigarette. As I plopped down on the seat of my bike, I put my helmet on. Tig draped his arm on my handle bar, like he had something to say. Waiting for one of my closest friends to open his mouth, I lit my own cigarette.

"So, glad to have Callie back?" He said, flicking ash off of his cancerstick. Again, I nodded.

"I would have preferred to have her and her brother back together. And it would be nice to have at least helped raise the two of them." I admitted, shrugging while doing so.

"Know what you mean, brother," Tig nodded. "If it hadn't been for my ex, my girls would probably be better off. Or at least I'd like to think so."

I laughed loudly. "You keep telling yourself that, killer. Ride safe tomorrow, alright?"

I sat at my dinner table, which was actually just a poker table, with napkins and salt and pepper on it. In front of me sat a heavy, glass ashtray Callie had gotten me for a birthday. It was hard to believe that after smoking a cigarette from our mother's pack at 16, she and I were still smoking. My phone was attached to my ear, my hysterical mother sobbing into my ear. Callie had negelcted to call our mother the whole time she was travelling from Austin to Charming. Aside from my sister ignoring our mother, mom apparently had some news that our father was in Charming.

Of course, Callie would go looking for a job in the city where our father was convienetly living in. I wondered how she found out who our dad was. She probably kissed some ass with a friend of ours who was a Travis County officer and he ran her - our - blood through their system. Yes, I was angry at my sister. I should have known she would do something like this sooner if not later. But I was curious; why had she waited until we were two years from turning thirty to find him.

"D-davy," My mother stuttered through her tears. "You have to bring Callie back. She can't be allowed to be with your father."

"Mom, she's a fully grown woman," As much as I didn't want her near that scum bag, I couldn't make her do anything. "She's going to do what she wants."

"Davy, you don't understand!"

The problem was that I did understand. Mom had been hurt by him and she didn't want my sister to find someone just like him and have her heart broken. Although I had been fiercely protective of my ten minute younger sister throughout middle school and high school, she had always gone for the guys who were slimeballs. I took pride that I had been the one who cheered her up when she was sad about our father, angry about our mom, and depressed about a guy dumping her. Which, for my sister, was rare; usually she was the one who did the dumping. Spewing cigarette smoke from my mouth, I smashed it in the ashtray.

After about five more minutes of my mom blubbering into the phone I came up with a compromise. "Alright mom, how about this. I'll keep in contact with her and if I sense she's heading into trouble, I'll go up there and stop it."

"Oh, Davy, you're such a good son. Nothing at all like your father."

Once she and I said goodbye, I hung up the phone and lit a fresh cig. Maybe I'd make a trip out to California whether Cal was in trouble or not. After all, even though I bought my mother's story, I wanted to hear my father's. And see how much I was like him. Picking up my phone again, I dialed my sister's digits.

So I totally realized I made an oopsie. The guys don't discover Abel's in Vancouver until later in season 3 and Tig had already been up in Oregon with Gemma by then. Sorry for the mistake! But, again, thank you all so much :] My other fic, Daughter of Anarchy, will hopefully be posted later tonight or tomorrow afternoon. Thanks guys :)