Hi. I'm tired, cranky and way past my deadline and I don't have a single line of this chapter written, so I have no clue what will happen in it! So bear with me, because this chapter will be written and proofread in the next fifty minutes (Don't hate me for the tardiness, I had to take my kid to the doctor!)

Kurt Sutter stuff belongs to Kurt Sutter, Mudd stuff belongs to Mudd and no one makes money from this. Ok. Here goes nothing!

It's bright, and hard, uncomfortable, it feels like she slept on a rock. But it's just too damn noisy to be outside. Phones ringing, people talking, there's a throb in her head, her mouth feels like a hot potato and she's so thirsty. And hungry. Everett could dive head first in a bucket of fried chicken she was so hungry.

No.

No.

Nonononononononono! No.

Too late. The thought of food made her barf onto her own feet, and the fact that she barfed on her own feet made her barf on them again, she just started crying. Why? Was it her time of the month again?

She managed to open her eyes despite the splitting pain, and saw what was on her feet. Oh, that's why. That and the fact that she was in the drunk tank.

Oh, the lovely accommodations she had. A cement bed, no window but two very bright neon lights, bars for a door, a pot to piss in and a chickenpox blanket that must not have been washed since the time of Louis Quatorze. What did she remember last?

It takes her a lot of effort, to dig through the hazy portions of her brain, it's a blur, but it could have involved whipped cream, spiced rum, a dare from Rain and two hot chicks, one a brunette with fair skin and the other a rocking redhead with a thick Irish accent.

-Garçon? A little help, here?

Everyone with a desk in her immediate surroundings were staring at her with disgust reading all over their faces. It couldn't have smelled good, either. She sort of felt bad for whatever poor sucker would be forced to come and help her.

It took about forty minutes, but she was showered with the so-kind help of a fire hose, she wouldn't need to go and get a peeling, thank you, Gendarme, for removing at least five layers of her skin, thrown into some baggy, shapeless prison clothes, processed, given her court date and released, after signing a promise to present herself to the tribunal.

Outside as always, her daddy, usually, he would be leaning against his bike, arms crossed, this time, he's leaning against her mom's Pirate-mobile, smoking a cigarette he flicks as soon as she comes out, and like any other time he ever got her out of this place, he grabs her in his arms and hugs her, holds her for a long time, just rubbing her dark blond hair until she moves away. Once, her third or fourth time, they actually stayed like that hugging near the bike for four whole hours.

-Your little sister called.

Wait, what? What happened to the dare and the brunette and the redhead and Rain and the rum? The tube of fluffy whip?

-Maddie?

-Yeah, Maddie.

No wait, this was Paris, not Marseilles.

Oh, shit. Shit. Fuck. Maddie! Panis immediately setting in.

-Where is she?

-They released her this morning, from the hospital, she's fine. Three stitches, a few scratches. The super of her place already replaced the window, I helped him up the security, this morning.

And now it was nighttime. And Maddie was alone. He'd left her alone, was he out of his mind? She yelled that at her father, shaking him as if she could get an answer out of him faster.

-...crazy mother-fucking son of a bitch! Alone?

-She ain't alone, Rain and Tiges are with her. Now could I pretty please get the non-dramatic version of yesterday's events? I ain't mom, so I got no clue of what she was talking about.

Well, there's dinner. One whole bottle of wine between the two of them. Then there's the bar, they went dancing. A few shots, two beer for Maddie, one beer for Everett, who refused to drive her sister after having four shots into her system, she stuck to water after that. The guy trying to get Maddie's number on the dance floor, and Maddie blowing him off. He came back, with two friends and hopefully enough persuasion to get her to leave with them. Everett and her knife was more persuasive to make them fuck off.

Then there's home. Half a bottle of wine for Maddie, a lot of Jack Daniels for Everett, with beer, she'd lost count. Maybe a whole small bottle? And How to lose a guy in ten days on TV. It made for good drunken small talk.

Then there's a bit of black. Sleeping? Or at least laying in the dark in the living room.

Then there's Maddie screaming in pure terror. And a guy above Everett, smirking under his ski mask until Everett headbutted him, didn't even feel it, that's how drunk she was. And in the bedroom, two buddies trying to rape her little sister, they came through a door and left through the front window, one with Everett's knife stuck in his asshole, literally, all the way to the guard.

-So, you want to find whatever asshat tried to touch Maddie, you find the one that got his asshole sewn back in place last night. Did they touch her?

-No, you did right. You did good. We'll find the bastards. What did they slap on you?

-Intoxication, property damage, some bullshit. I got to court in three months.

-Get in. I'm taking you to your sister.

Sister who got hurt by Everett, but wouldn't say a word about the matter, because what was three stitches and a few scratches when it could have been a lot worst. Tough it wasn't the most brilliant idea Everett ever had, to smash a lamp on an asshole that was leaning over her sister. It had lead to Maddie getting three stitches for a gash on her shoulder. They still hugged forever, and while Happy raised the possibility that Maddie would go back to Los Angeles with them when they went back, the sisters knew better. They were "Ride or Die", and if Everett stayed in Marseilles with the Sons, so would Maddie.

In the meanwhile, Maddie had to stay in Paris for school and Everett was called back by the Sons to carry out a job. It took a while for Maddie to get her sister out the door and onto her bike, Happy had promised to stay overnight as Everett rode with Rain and Tiges back down to Marseilles, it was a long ride, took them most of the night, and no sleep was to be caught, no food was to be eaten until they got there. The hard life of a future Son.

They did however stopped for gas halfway there, in Lyon, she caught about four minutes of sleep on her bike while Tiges and Rain went to pay for the gas, despite the bright neon lights of the overhead roof-thing at the gas station, it was about five in the morning. What really woke her up first was Tiges on the phone after he came out of the gas station, he sounded like he was pacing back and forth near the door. But what made her open her eyes to immediately shut them was the smell of Playboy New York for men, the feeling of Rain's lips on hers, his relaxed face with eyes closed and his soft voice between the first two kisses.

-Wake up, biking beauty.

But that was all she had, three chaste kisses, Rain pulls away because Tiges was done with his phone call and coming back their way, and Rain probably had figured out how she would feel about fucking her way into the club. Her cheeks still stayed red until they reached Marseilles and Rain branched off towards his place as she followed Tiges to the club. Because each time she would calm herself down, Rain Queen would look her way with that face of his.

Once at the clubhouse, Jack was decent enough to ask news about Maddie, before telling her what she had to do. She had to go and rough up a dude that was refusing to pay protection to the club. Then Law came in and told her she looked like shit, especially wearing her Kutte over these ugly blue clothes from a cop station, she had no excuse to give to him, he had to already be aware that she had spent most of the day sleeping off in the tank.

-So who's the guy I'm roughing up?

-Michel Michaud. Pastry shop on Rue Loubon. Old owner just sold up and apparently forgot to tell the new owner how much it really cost to stay open around that neighborhood.

-Ok. I'm on it.

First, tough, she needed to get into some real clothes. Put a little bit of food in her stomach. Maybe sleep for twenty minutes. But it really needed to be taken care of early in the day. Pastry shops closed early.

It didn't take Everett long to head home. Seemed like forever in her state, but it was only a few minutes ride down the road. She parked beside her father's green bike, pulled herself up and headed inside, in the shade, it was hot and humid. Had she been home last night, she would have had the Rain Queen three day forecast, he did it just about every night at the club, so she would know if it would rain or not.

In the lobby, her mom, demanding to know why everyone had abandoned her. Happy didn't come home last night, she wasn't home last night, King hadn't came home, Everett just was in no mood to deal with that right now.

-Mom. Later, ok? Please.

The elevator, the door, the smell of pancakes, wait, what? Why did it smell of pancakes in her apartment? Instinctively, her hand clasped at where her knife should have been, but wasn't anymore, but it was too late, she was well on her way to the kitchen.

Her cat was purring, and a soft-spoken voice was talking to him, she peeked, it was Rain. In her kitchen. Making a few pancakes, bacon, eggs, toasts, the kind of breakfast she missed from America. The cat turned around and meowed at her, as if to say "bitch, it's about fucking time, did you know I pooped on your pillow while you were gone for two whole days and left me SO MUCH FOOD to eat in my bowl, and a fresh kitty litter, and the door cracked for me to go outside and the bathroom sink dripping just the intensity that I like it? What is your problem, human? You belong to me, and don't you fucking forget that!" Rain listened intently, before laughing. And Everett realized she never once hears Randy Coin laugh. And it was. Fucking. Sexy.

The cat fled as Rain was tackled onto the floor and, well, for lack of better words, taken advantage of. From the hallway, it mowed again "Why do you do things like that? I hate you! If you weren't feeding me to well and touching my head so much, I would run and never come back", but Everett didn't care. Busy she was, kissing and caressing and taking possession of what she judged now belonged to her.

It took a bit longer than the twenty minutes nap she was planning on, after, all, while they knew, they had never been so intimate, thus did not know each other's bodies, but it felt so good. It had really been a struggle for dominance for the second half that technically should have left her on her ass, but she felt good, good enough to throw some pants and a shirt on, head to Rue Loubon and take care of business.

-And you stay right here and keep breakfast warm, baby. I'll be back in an hour, I'm gonna fuck your little brains again, then we can sleep for half the day.

-Sounds good.

She laughed as she pulled herself up from the kitchen floor, the pancake in the pan had really burned well, the stove was still on but the pan now sat in the sink, probably chucked there by Rain in time to avoid the fire alarm. She rushed to her room and dressed up, before rushing back downstairs, she was starved, maybe she could catch a free bite at the pastry shop.

The bakery smelled brand new. Not old and moldy like the old owner. The guy behind the counter was in his twenties, already going bald, big teeth, not really good looking at all. There was another guy in the kitchen in the back, she knew him by face, he worked under the old owner. A ball of nerves that often got on her nerves, when she dated with a girlfriend nearby and would come here to get her lover a few sweets before going over. He used to work the counter.

She took her gloves off, kept her glasses on as she eyes the displays, there were macaroons, she reached in and ate one, it was decent. Cupcakes, she took a bite of one and tossed it over her shoulder, it was carrots, and she wasn't fond of that flavor. The guy behind the counter didn't notice her yet, he was busy making an old woman pay her purchases.

There was a display of tarts, she took bites into five of them before she was noticed by the guy in the back, who called to the guy in the front who was making small talk with the old lady.

-Ma'am, please allow me to serve you in a moment, please?

She raised an eyebrow, shot back that ma'am wasn't even her mother, reached for a big cake and grabbed a handful that she brought to her mouth, hmm, black forest with cherries. He took notice of her kutte, ushered the woman outside and started on how he was not going to be pressured into paying protection every month to a bunch of brutes, she listened with one ear, making a number on that cake icing on her hand before turning to him.

-Look, it's simple. You pay me now, I walk away, you don't see me before a month, and I leave you alone. Or you don't.

-Then?

-Then...

He had this bob of the head people have, when they want people to get on with a story, idea or thought, like a yes going downwards really fast, with the hands raised palms facing up, eyebrows furrowed, bref, a stupid look on his face. She smiled, lowered her hand on a chair that was at one of the bistro tables for people to have lunch there, literally swooped it over her head in a circular motion, and crashed it through the glass display of cakes, it all fell down in a pile of delicious and glass, with a topping of bistro chair.

-Then! 400, or I keep going!

-Are you insane?

-I think you know the answer to that.

-I'm not paying you!

-Are you sure? You locked the door. You're stuck in here, with me!

He yelled something in Spanish to the guy in the back, who came out with a bat, she was surprised that he actually help it properly, but it was no match for the pistol she had holstered under her kutte, he fell back, blood splattering against the pale blue wall, the bat clattered on the ground, the new owner looked at him, at her, at him again, before yelling that she was out of her mind, it made her smile.

-Yes, baby! I'm out of my fucking mind! Pay me! PAY ME!

She shot the phone when he went for it, broke the display of tarts on her way to get his hands on him and threw him out the front window and onto the sidewalk, opened the register and took all of one hundred and ten euros in it before trashing the rest of the displays and hightailing out of there. She wouldn't head to the club now, she'd lay low all day at home. With Rain. In bed. For some reason, it made her squeal like a teenage girl as she took the highway back home, the idea of spending the day in bed with the real Randy Coin.

Hundred and ten wasn't exactly the four hundred asked, but it was ten in the morning, and the guy had just opened up shop. They would probably ask for five hundred next month to make up for it. They always ended up paying.

Randy Coin! Randy Coin in her apartment, waiting for her. Rain Queen!

"Ermahgerd!" she squealed because no one could hear her.

-ERMAH FUCKING GERD! Randy COIN!

How sweeter could life get?