Disclaimer – The characters of this fanfiction, as well as the 'Sons of Anarchy' world belong to Kurt Sutter, with the exception of 'Boo' Morrow, who is an original character created by me. I make no profit from this work.
"They still in church?" Boo asked as she set a fresh cup of coffee down in front on her step-mother, Gemma Teller. The Sons had been in church for near an hour now, which struck the teenager as odd as life in Charming had been rather dull and eventless for the last few months. Church was rarely called more than once a week and the meetings never lasted more than 10 or 20 minutes. The club was bored and itching for something to do, and Boo had to admit she shared the feeling. Her first few months in Charming had been eventful to say the least. War with the Mayans, ATF sniffing around after the death of two Nords just outside of Charming and a group of wannabe biker kids trying to deal coke in the local high school were just some of the things that had welcomed the teenager when she'd arrived in town 12 months previously. By the time she'd gotten used to it all, things calmed down, going from a full on storm to near total calm in just a matter of weeks.
"Thanks baby." Gemma said, accepting the coffee with a sign of satisfaction. It was late November and the hot drink was welcome in the chilly afternoon air. "Yeah, someone from SAMBEL wants a transfer so they're putting it to a vote." She sighed as she reclined in her chair and took a sip, savouring the warmth that spread through her body as a result.
"Argh, I hope they patch him over. It'll liven things up a bit." Boo groaned as she shifted a pile of papers off the spare chair and sat herself down. She had a quick flick through the papers, but it was all old paperwork waiting for Gemma to file away. There was nothing new to fix at the garage, nothing due to come in. Goddamnit was the whole of Charming on pause?
"Yeah..." Gemma said with a soft smirk, agreeing with her step-daughter. As much as she enjoyed the relative peace, it was getting old. When shit got old, it got boring, and Gemma didn't do boring. Boring seemed to age her, at least it felt that way and the adrenaline filled normality of the MC kept her on her toes, kept her feeling young. She took the pile of unfiled paperwork from her stepdaughter with a groan of impatience and set to work sorting through it. On days like this, she really considered stirring up trouble, if only to have something more interesting to do than over-due filing.
"Who's the new prospect?" Boo asked as Gemma got to work, eyeing the short Puerto Rican kid with lightning bolts tattooed on his shaved head in the prospect cut sweeping the already immaculate shop floor. He was just one of many prospects that had come and gone in the last few months, not one of them lasting more than a few weeks. The boredom that was setting in amongst the club members meant they were giving the prospects a harder time than usual.
"Name's Juice... good kid, bit off a geek." Gemma said with a soft laugh, her mind wandering back to that morning when she'd meet the prospect for the first time. She was having trouble with the office computer and Juice – who had been hovering outside the room silent as a mouse when Tig could find nothing for him to do – jumped in and explained what the problem was at great length, despite the fact that it only took him a few taps on the keyboard to sort it. "Could be good for the club, he says he can hack into any government database." She continued, wondering to herself if the prospects claims were true. Hack into the government's database? That was impossible surely? Was this just bullshit to help him get his top rocker, or was he serious? The Queen of Charming could only hope for the latter. It always paid to be one step ahead of the feds.
"Nice! Think he'll last the year?" Boo asked, sounding doubtful. The way things were going, they'd never have another prospect finish their full year. In the year she'd been in Charming, she'd seen at least 7 prospects come and go, not one of them able to hack the abuse of the fully patched club members.
"I don't know baby." Gemma sighed, downing the last of her coffee as she caught sight of a customer – the first of the day- wheeling in a Harley, a grim look about his face. Gemma's lips perked upwards a little as she nudged her step-daughter and nodded in the direction of the man on the lot. "Think you've got it in you to look at this guy's bike?" she asked, knowing that Boo was dying to step out of Tig's shadow and prove that she could fix a bike without his input. Boo gave an uncharacteristic squeal of delight and jumped to her feet, clearly pleased with the challenge.
"I'll give it my best shot." She grinned, kissing Gemma on the cheek before darting out onto the lot before the Queen could change her mind and tell her to wait for Tig.
SAMCRO
"By bringing this guy to SAMCRO, we'll double our gun trade." Clay said, reclining in his chair as he puffed on his cigar, eyes scanning the sparsely filled club table. Bobby and Piney nodded, while Tig, ever distrustful, pulled a face, his icy blue eyes never once leaving the presidents face. Clay knew he was suspicious of the guy who wanted to patch SAMCRO and he needed to make The Sergeant at Arms get past that distrust for the sake of the club, for the sake of profit. "McKeavey won't give us access to the AK's without someone the IRA trusts stateside and the One-Niners are looking for something a little more powerful to help defend their heroin trade." He continued, tapping cigar ash into his ashtray before tapping his finger on the table top, head ducked forward, eyes telling his members would he couldn't say out loud. We need to patch this guy over! "This is a good move for us" Clay looked to Tig first, already certain what his right hand man would say but needing to hear it nonetheless.
"I don't know Clay, this doesn't feel right." Clay managed to contain his smirk, Tig's distrust in people had escalated after Kyle's betrayal of the club, of Opie and could all be traced back to his shit with Kozik a few years previously. It still amused the club that his distrust in people could be traced back to a dog. Not that any of them would dare say anything. "There's something wrong with the fact he wants out of Ireland so bad..." Tig pushed on, scowl creasing his face. From what little McGee had told them about the guy who wanted to transfer; it had become obvious the guy was desperate to get out of Ireland. Apparently if he didn't patch SAMCRO he was willing to patch to any other charter stateside. Tig didn't trust that, not one bit. What the hell was the guy running from? And was it going to fall in SAMCRO's laps?
"He's got a point man; we don't know shit about this guy, McGee was pretty vague." Bobby said, leaning forward on the table, both arms resting against the dark wood. Bobby wasn't distrustful like Tig, he was just being cautious. In his eyes, McGee not having a lot to say about the guy meant there was probably a load of shit he was keeping to himself. Shit that could come and bite them all in the ass.
"But McGee trusts him, reckons he'll be an asset to SAMCRO." Piney added with a simple shrug of his shoulders, as if that ended the debate. McGee was First Nine and so McGee's word was to be trusted. Piney had no doubt in his brother, and saw no reason to distrust any member of The Sons of Anarchy without good reason. Tig continued to scowl, eyes still on Clay as he tugged at the hair on his chin with his left hand, his right fingers drumming against the polished wood of the table.
"Can't we talk to McKeavey again, see if he'll give us access to those AK's?" he asked Clay pointedly, knowing that the gun trade and its subsequent profits were high up on his presidents list of priorities. Clay shook his head at once.
"That shit goes deeper than him and you know it." He said, jabbing a finger in Tig's direction. The club had been bugging McKeavey about the AK's for months, ever since Laroy had started hinting that they needed more firepower. McKeavey had been adamant from day one, if they wanted the AK's they needed someone trusted by the Real IRA amongst their ranks. "We need this guy stateside if we want those guns." Clay said simply, point made, eyes still on Tig who gave a solitary nod of understanding. This guy needed to be patched over to SAMCRO, regardless of Tig's doubts. Hell, at least there would be a patch over party! "What's your take on this VP?" Clay asked, turning to his step-son when he realised he'd been silent over the matter. Jax took a moment to light his cigarette and inhale deeply before he answered, stretching back in his chair, his expression casual.
"Our numbers are down since Op went away; we could use the extra muscle. I know things have been quiet but that just means shits stirring somewhere and we don't know when it'll hit the fan." He said in a matter of fact way, pausing to inhale deeply on his cigarette once again. "Plus McGee says this guy is some sort of medic, could be useful." He added, eyes scanning the room. As far as Jax was concerned this guy was a brother, and therefore there should be no question as to his transfer. The guys history as a medic and McGee's comments that he was 'a force to reckoned with' were just a bonus. Clay nodded his approval, glad to have his VP onboard. Jax had a lot of sway over the rest of the club and it was often that his word turned the opinions of the club right round.
"Alright, calling in a vote." Clay said, turning to face Tig as he stuck his hand in the air with a cry of 'Yay.' The Sergeant At Arms followed suit, although somewhat reluctantly, as did the rest of the club. With a satisfied and smug grin, Clay picked up his gavel and brought it swiftly down. "Unanimous. Call McGee and tell him send his boy to Charming." He said to Piney, before dismissing the club. Seats scrapped against the floor as the club members stood and went about their way, chatting amongst themselves, excited over their newest members impending arrival and the hell of a party that would go with it.
"What kind of name is Chibs anyway?" Tig snorted as he left church, grabbing a beer from the prospect and sauntering off towards the garage before anyone could give him an answer.
SAMCRO
Tig headed to the office in vain hope that there was work to be done. He'd spent the better part of the last three night's living it up at the club house and now it was catching up to him. The only thing that would stop him from being overcome by a grim hangover was keeping busy, putting his focus elsewhere. So he wasn't best pleased when he found out that the only job of the day had gone to his 16 year old apprentice. He spotted her working out in the mid-afternoon sun, wearing just jeans, converse and her Teller Morrow shirt. Tig rolled his eyes at that, goddamn English! How was she not cold? It was nearly December for Christ's sake! Annoyed now by both her attire and her taking his work, he strolled over to her, beer still in hand.
"Sure you know what you're doing doll?" he asked as he casually leaned against the bike she was working on, eyebrow cocked, cold blue eyes baring down on her. It was the sort of thing that Boo used to find intimidating but now, after a year in Charming, she just rolled her eyes and tutted at the blue eyed mechanic, gesturing for him to move off the bike so she could continue with her work. Rather reluctantly he moved, going slowly so he could glance over her work and make sure she wasn't fucking up the bike even more than when it had first come in. Deep down however, he knew her to be a budding mechanic with a knack for working with Harleys. And her work showed just that, whatever the problem had been, it was gone. Fixed. Tig couldn't help but feel slightly smug knowing he'd taught her everything she knew about mechanics.
"I know what I'm doing Trager." She said coolly, her stomach twisting as she hoped what she was doing was right. She was certain she'd managed to locate the problem and was going about the right way to fix it but her mentors presence was having her doubt that. She wouldn't be able to take the humiliation if she was doing something wrong and he spotted it. He'd never let it go! Tig was about to make a comment about how he was shocked that she'd pretty much fixed the bike, when Clay appeared out of nowhere, making both of them jump.
"Back off Tigger, Gemma wouldn't have given her the job if she didn't think the kid could handle it." He said, clamping a hand down on the younger mans shoulder with a grin. His daughter flushed at the comment, clearly embarrassed by the fact that her father had faith in her work. Or at least that he trusted in Gemma's belief of her abilities. Turning from Tig, he ran his eyes over the bike she was working on, and when he realised the problem had been fixed he gave the girl a nod of approval. "Nice work kid." He praised, smiling down at his only daughter, eyes very briefly connecting with the ones identical to his own. His eyes were the only thing he'd passed down to his daughter appearance wise, other than that she was all her mother. Dark, long locks that were neither curly nor straight, a full face and a tall thin frame reminded him every day of that sweetbutt from all those years ago. He was just thankful that so far, his girl wasn't as developed as her mother was. Boo had a very boyish figure and Clay hoped it would stay that way. He knew the sort of trouble tits and ass could bring a girl. Especially one so close to Tig.
"Thanks..." Boo muttered softly, pausing for a second before flashing her father a grin and adding "Dad." It was very rarely that she called him dad, preferring to stick to Clay for the most part. Clay beamed at his daughter, his good mood even better than before. He may have spent 95% of her life pretending she didn't exist, but he had to admit, he liked it when she called him dad.
"Hey Clay, mind if I head out? The boredom is killing me man." Tig asked, stirring the president away so he could take advantage of his good mood. In truth of course, with nothing to do, Tig would soon sacrum to his hangover. He wanted to head to the hairy dog and chase the feeling away for another day, swiftly followed by a few good looking hookers. Clay chuckled at his right hand man.
"Are you sure last night isn't catching up with you?" he asked, his mind wandering to the night before. He couldn't remember seeing Tig sober at all. Or during the day for that matter. Tig gave a nervous laugh and scratched at the back of his head.
"Shit yeah... last 3 nights." He said with a hint of pride. Hey it wasn't like he wasn't some 25 year old prospect anymore, but he could still party like one! Better even! Never had there been a prospect - or full patched member for that matter - that could drink him under the table.
"Wait for the kid, take her with you." Clay grinned with a soft chuckle. He was in a good enough mood to let Tig leave, sure, but he wasn't in a good enough mood to let him go drinking again. The Sergeant at Arms had been staying in his spare room for more than a week now, after refurbishment work started on his apartment. Normally Tig would stay in one of the dorms at the club house, but the prospect before Juice had flooded them, making them all entirely uninhabitable. Gemma was on his back about the fact that Tig was never there and that when he was he was passed out in his room. 'I don't know if he's coming or going! It's like having Jax back!' she'd complained to him just that morning. "Gemma wants you at dinner tonight." He added when Tig groaned and pulled a face.
"Yeah okay, guess I owe her that." Tig agreed with a sigh of defeat. There would be no chasing away the hangover now, but maybe he could veg out in front of the TV with Boo and doze the afternoon away. At least then he'd be feeling up for dinner with Gemma. He didn't like to think what she'd do to him if he skipped dinner yet again.
"Good. I'll see you tonight." Clay said, smirking to himself before making his way over to the office, where Gemma was still sat filing paperwork. Tig watched for a moment as Gemma greeted her husband with a smile and a deep kiss before nudging the office door shut with a swift kick of her foot and a soft giggle that just about floated down to Tig's ears. Rolling his eyes, the mechanic turned back to his charge, who was finishing up her work and checking to make sure everything was in order.
"Hey doll, I'm taking you home when you're done with that." He called out to her, hoping to hurry her along so that he get back to Clay's and sleep. Being out in the sun seemed to be bringing about his hangover quicker and his head was starting to throb. Boo, not catching on to the fact that Tig wanted her to hurry, nodded her head and mumbled something inaudible along the lines of 'Okay', still focussed on her work. Deciding to make a point, Tig sauntered over to his bike to wait for Boo there. "Now hurry up and finish before I rape you." He called back to her. His words were met with a gasp and the mechanic narrowly avoided a spanner that was thrown at his head. Turning back to Boo, he grinned and winked at her. "What? I meant it in a nice way. It's a term of endearment..." he insisted, to which Boo shook her head, and groaned.
I didn't want to start straight in with the action, this first chapter is just to test the water and see what you guys think. It's been a long while since I've written any sort of fanfiction, longer still since I've posted any of it and this is my first attempt at Sons of Anarchy based writing.
Reviews are greatly appreciated, extremely motivational and make my work worthwhile.
I hope that you guys enjoyed this first chapter for I'd like to continue. I have a lot planned for this story! Many twists and turns that will keep you guessing as to what's coming next! Plus plenty of fluffy and angst filled scenes.