The sound of a phone vibrating against her bedside table pulled Angela out from her slumber. The next sound that hit her was Juice snoring like a lawnmower. She smiled sleepily, they'd had absolutely no interruptions the night before and they sure as hell had made the most of it. After a quick romp in the bed, they'd shared a shower, failed at watching a movie on the couch, and ended up right back in bed. She was completely exhausted but very happy; Juice was just as fun in bed as he looked.

Her head was currently pillowed against his muscular arm, her nose just gently brushing against his chest. His other hand was draped over her hip. It wasn't the world's most comfortable position, but she kind of liked being surrounded by him like she was. "Juice," she said, trying her best to shake him awake. His only response was to pull her in closer, the arm that was underneath her head slipping to wrap around her shoulders making the position even less comfortable. "Juice!" she urged, louder this time. When he continued sleeping, she nuzzled her nose into his chest before sinking her teeth into the smooth skin of his pec.

Juice woke up with a jolt, making her laugh. "Shit, baby," he groaned, rubbing a hand over the bite mark. He looked down at her and gave her that goofy grin she loved. "That the way you always say good morning?"

"It is when your snoring ass won't wake up," she shot back with an equally big smile.

He chuckled, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Sorry, Angel. Guess you tired me out."

"Sorry," she replied with a smile that showed she was anything but.

"Don't be," he said, softly. She tilted back her head and he obliged her with a sweet kiss, sweeping his tongue over her lower lip before delving into her mouth. His phone buzzed persistently and he groaned as he pulled away. "Let me guess, mine?"

"Been ringing all morning," she answered with a nod.

He sighed as he reached his hand out for it, one arm still around her shoulders. "Better now than last night, huh?" he joked, before pressing the phone to his ear. "Yeah?...Nah, man, I'm at Angel's. Shut up, Chibs... Well, shit...All right, I'll be right over."

Angela frowned as he hung up the phone and placed it back on the table. She moved onto her stomach, lying her head down on his shoulder, on hand tracing designs over his pec. "Time to go?"

"Yeah," he answered around a yawn. His eyes raked over her bare back as he brushed her hair off of it. He rubbed his thumb over a particularly dark mark on her shoulder blade, silently admiring his own handiwork.

She lifted her head, raising an eyebrow at him. "How bad is it?"

"What?"

"Whatever mark you're looking so proudly at. It's gotta be pretty big because you're grinnin' like a proud Papa."

Juice scoffed as he shrugged a shoulder. "It'll be there a while," he answered with a devilish grin.

She sighed, giving him a half-hearted glare. "Classy."

He chuckled in response, kissing her once more before sliding out of bed. "Jax's kid is comin' home today," he said as he pulled on his pants. "Gemma's throwin' a big party. You free?"

Her eyes raked over his fine body, memories from the night before passing through her brain. She bit her lip as she went through them, barely catching his last question. "What?"

Juice wasn't the best at reading most people, but he could see the hunger in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to get back in bed with her, but Chibs had been pretty insistent that he had to get to TM. "No time for that right now, baby," he said, winking at her as she scowled at him. "Was asking if you were free tonight. Gemma's having a party for Abel's homecoming."

"Abel's finally comin' home?" Angela exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. Juice had told her on more than one occasion about Jax's kid and she was excited to hear the baby was healthy enough to come home. "Yeah! Sounds like fun. I should be free by then."

"I'll pick you up 'round six," he said, leaning over to kiss her once more. She nodded, putting a hand on the back of his neck as she deepened the kiss. Juice leaned into her, one of his hands tangling into her hair. When he finally pulled away, his eyes were dark with lust. A naughty smirk turned up the corner of her lips, the promise of what was to come in her dark eyes. He crawled over her, capturing her lips in a searing kiss while her hands tugged at his belt buckle. Then his phone beeped, reminding him he had places to be. He groaned as he sat back; glaring at her half-heartedly while she laughed. "You're mean," he told her, catching her lips in another kiss, careful to cut it off before she could deepen it. "And I'll see you later."

She grinned at him and winked. "See you then, goofy."

----------

Angela studied herself in the mirror wondering what the hell she was supposed to wear to a welcome home party for a baby she didn't really know. She settled on a black embellished tank top with a pair of dark jeans and boots. She was too lazy to do anything with her hair, so she started working braiding it into a fishtail.

"You look good," Juice's voice came from the doorway making her jump slightly.

She whirled around on her heel, hand pressed to her heart. "Jesus, Juice! You scared the crap outta me!"

He gave her his big goofy grin in response. She found it was hard to be annoyed with him when he was smiling at her like that. "Sorry," he apologized, shrugging his shoulder. He stepped behind her, tugging the braid from her hands and weaving his ringed fingers through it to unbraid it.

She scowled at him, frowning at her reflection in the mirror. "Do you know how hard that was to do?"

"I like it better down," he stated simply. He played with the long wavy locks, loving the silky feel of it as it slid through his fingers. "You ready to go?"

Angela turned around, draping her arms over his shoulders. "I think so. Anything I should know?"

"Nah, you'll be fine."" he said on a shrug, his hands slipping into the back pockets of her jeans and pulling her in closer. He caught her lips in a hot kiss as her hands slipped underneath his cut to settle on the soft cotton of his shirt. If he wanted to, he could walk her back to the bed, but he stopped, pulling away slowly. "We're going to be late and Gemma's gonna kick my ass."

"Well, we can't have that," she said with a small smile as he grabbed her hand. She let him lead her to his bike. As she put on her helmet, he slipped on a pair of riding glasses. "Nice glasses, hipster," she teased, sliding onto the motorcycle behind him.

"Shut up." He reached a hand around to squeeze her thigh playfully before starting the bike. "You know you love 'em."

She rolled her eyes, holding onto him tightly as they drove off into the night. It was a relatively short ride to Jax's house, especially at the speed Juice was going. He liked riding fast when he had Angela riding bitch, it always made her hold on to him tighter, her breasts pushed up against his back making all sorts of naughty thoughts run through his head.

Once there, he waited for her to get off the bike before sliding off himself. Turning he pressed a soft kiss to her lips which she returned eagerly, fighting off a grin as his hands slid into her back pockets for the second time that day. Apparently, he liked that spot.

Loud whistles and applause made her pull away, an embarrassed smile on her face as she turned to find Chibs, Tig, and Bobby had just pulled up next to them. Juice grinned at them, pulling her into his side. "Hey guys," he greeted, waiting for them to approach so they could all walk in together. "How's it goin'?"

"Not as good as you," Chibs replied, winking at Angela.

"Got you some Little Rican lovin', didn't ya, darlin'?" Bobby teased, a big grin on his face.

Angela smiled right back, nodding in answer to his question. "Sure did."

Juice chuckled as they all headed in, slightly proud of the way she'd dealt with his brothers' comments. After seeing the blush rise to her cheeks, he thought she was going to act shy, maybe even be annoyed by the suggestive comments Chibs and Bobby had made; but, after the initial shock, she'd just given them that gorgeous smile of hers and played it off as no big deal. He liked that, it meant he didn't have to worry about her going off on him for something his brothers said because more than likely; they would say all sorts of shit like that in the future.

As soon as they walked in, he steered her towards the kitchen where a group of leather clad women was getting food together. One of them in particular stood out to Angela. She was better dressed, wore less make up, and was clucking at them all like a mother hen. When they walked in, she leveled Juice with a glare that clearly said, 'Get the hell out.'

As usual, he didn't get the hint. "Gem, this is Angela, Skeeter's assistant. Angela, this is Gemma."

A light bulb went off in Angela's head, so this was the infamous "Gemma" that Cherry had warned her about. Gemma's hazel eyes looked her up and down, pressing her lips together tightly before giving Juice a disapproving look; the boys new better than to bring their flavor of the week to family dinners. "Nice to meet you," she said flatly on a curt nod before leveling Juice with a glare. "Get out of my kitchen, Juice."

Angela knew she was included in that order so she followed Juice out, breathing a little sigh of relief to be out from under the older woman's scrutinizing glare. "That was a bit scary," she muttered.

"Yeah, she has that effect on people. I probably should've told her I was bringing you earlier," Juice said on a grimace as he handed her a beer. "She's a little...protective. Especially after what happened with Cherry."

"What happened with Cherry?"

Juice shrugged a shoulder. "Old lady or not, we're free to do what we want on a run as long as it stays on a run. Cherry may have gotten a little too close to Clay, if you get what I mean..."

Angela fought the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. True, she wasn't making Juice commit to her or anything like that. For all she knew, he was doing all sorts of other girls, but to be in a committed relationship and still be allowed that freedom didn't sit well with her especially since she was almost positive the same rule did not apply to the woman in that situation. She had a feeling she knew how the story ended. "Then Cherry showed up here for Sack which would account for the nasty bruise on that girl's face."

"Gemma hit her with a skateboard," Juice said on a nod.

Her eyebrows skyrocketed up her forehead. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, but that's water under the bridge now. Cher's gone anyways so it never became that big of a deal...other than the skateboard thing. That was kind of a big deal," he amended as though he'd just thought of it.

"Ya think?" Angela teased.

He laughed in response, steering her over to the gray-haired man she'd seen in the morgue. Angela noticed his President patch and tried her best to keep her eyes from going wide. She hadn't realized he was the president of the club when she'd seen him that day. "Angel, this is Clay. Clay, this is Angela, Skeeter's assistant," he introduced, shifting nervously from foot to foot as if he desperately wanted to please the guy.

Clay nodded to her, a welcoming smile on his face. "An undertaker, huh? Good person to have hangin' around."

"Guess so," Angela replied awkwardly.

"Keep a hold of this one, Juice," he said, nodding to the younger man.

She felt Juice slide his arm around her waist, an unspoken claim. "Yeah," he agreed with his usual goofy grin. From there, he introduced her to the rest of his brothers. She noticed how he always introduced her as Skeeter's assistant. It bothered her a little. Was that all she was to him? A connection to a funeral home so they could burn bodies easily?

He pushed her to go mingle as he went to talk to Tig. She started up a conversation with Wendy, but her head wasn't really in it and apparently, neither was Wendy's. She kept glancing at Jax and Abel as though she was afraid they'd disappear. Angela just kept circling back to Juice's introductions. This is Angela, Skeeter's assistant. With a sigh, she decided to let it go. After all, she didn't see him as anything other than a friend at the moment. A friend with benefits, great benefits. And yeah, maybe there were feelings buried deep underneath the friendship, but she was not going to open up that can of worms. Not when he was still calling her 'Skeeter's assistant'. No, she'd take on those feelings as soon as she figured out what he was feeling and apparently, it wasn't anything too deep. She was just "Skeeter's assistant" to him.

Wendy excused herself from the conversation to go tend to Abel and Angela found herself awkwardly alone. "You look like you feel about as out of place as I do," a voice said, intruding on her thoughts.

Angela looked over at the brunette beside her and smiled. "I probably do," she agreed on a nod. "I'm Angela Ruiz, Skeeter's assistant."

"Donna Winston, Opie's wife," she replied shaking Angela's hand. "I'm guessing being Skeeter's assistant isn't what brought you here."

Angela gave her a grin; she was a smart, perceptive lady. "Indirectly, it was. Directly, not so much. Juice invited me."

"You guys don't got a label yet, huh?" Donna asked, smirking at her.

"Sure we do," Angela said on a shrug. "I'm Skeeter's Assistant."

Donna sighed, giving her a sympathetic look. "It's hard for them to admit certain things. I don't think Ope really got that we were together 'til we got married and had kids."

"Men are dumb," she blurted out without really thinking. Immediately, she wished she hadn't said it; she didn't want to offend Donna.

To her surprise, however, Donna laughed and nodded in agreement. "Life is hard when you have two heads to listen to."

Angela laughed, surprised by the witty comment. She liked Donna; she seemed so...normal. After talking to Wendy and some of the sweetbutts, it was nice to talk to someone that was somewhat normal. They chatted a little more about men and their stupidity when a young blonde girl came running up to them. She couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve, and she looked incredibly bored. "Hey Mom?" the girl questioned. "Can we go now?"

Donna smiled down at her little girl. "Not yet, sweetie. We gotta stick around a bit longer to make your dad happy, okay?"

The young girl frowned down at her shoes. "Okay," she agreed on a tired sigh.

"Hey, kid," Angela said, catching Ellie's attention. "You ever seen a fishtail braid?"

Ellie looked questioningly up at Donna, unsure of the strange woman. "El, this is Angie, Angela this is my daughter, Ellie."

"Nice to meet you, El," Angela greeted, shaking the young girl's hand.

"I like fishtail braids," Ellie stated shyly. "Mom doesn't know how to do 'em though."

"Well, you're in luck because I do. How 'bout I teach her?" she asked, smiling at Donna when Ellie eagerly agreed.

As Angela taught Donna how to do the braid, the three girls talked about all sorts of things. Angela found Ellie to be a truly sweet girl who liked all sorts of things from Harleys to books. She informed her that she, in fact, had a Very extensive Harry Potter collection. Angela promised her she'd babysit one day so she could show it to her while her parents had a much needed night out.

It wasn't long after that Juice caught Angela's eye, beckoning her over to him with a finger. "Excuse me, ladies," she said, tying off Ellie's braid. "I'll see you around?"

"Definitely, see you soon, Skeeter's assistant," Donna teased.

Angela fought the urge to flip her off as she approached Juice, hands in her pockets. "What's up?" she asked him, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"I gotta follow Tara. Make sure she gets home all right. You want to come?" he questioned as he walked with her out the door towards his bike.

There was no way in hell she was going to stay there without him especially not after the ice cold reception she'd gotten from Gemma. She nodded exaggeratedly, taking the helmet he'd handed her and putting it on her head before getting on his bike. He got on in front of her, waiting until she wrapped her arms around his torso then taking off after the old Cutlass.

Juice leaned back into her embrace, feeling content to have her with him. He knew she'd gotten annoyed with him back at the house for the way he'd been calling her Skeeter's assistant all night. He'd been kind of annoyed by it himself. He wanted everyone to know she was his girl but, at the same time, he didn't want to be tied down to one person. Not yet at least. He wasn't ready for that.

He stopped across the street from Tara's house, watching Tara as she pulled into the driveway and headed inside. "Why are we doing this?" Angela asked, her chin on his shoulder.

"I don't really know," Juice answered honestly. "Jax told me to. I think they got into some type of fight. It looked like someone had slapped him."

"I'm willing to bet she did," she mused in response. From talking to Wendy, she had gotten the sense Wendy was being pushed upon Jax while Tara was being pushed out. Angela felt for the young doctor; she was probably a frustrated mess torn between whether to stay with Jax or leave. She knew the feeling of being in limbo well. If Juice had introduced her as Skeeter's assistant one more time, he'd be joining the 'men-who-just-got-slapped' club.

He set a hand on her thigh, squeezing it lovingly. "Angel, I'm..." His apology was cut off by the distant sound of a few gunshots in another part of town. "Oh shit."

Juice felt Angela start behind him, her arms squeezing his waist tighter. He could feel her heart hammering against his back. "Weren't those..." she trailed off, swallowing hard.

"Yeah," he breathed, knowing exactly what she was going to ask. He started up the bike and drove in the direction of the shots. His heartbeat sped up when he spotted the yellow tape, the ambulance, Opie's truck. "Opie," he murmured, stopping next to Tig and praying like hell it wasn't his brother on the ground there. But Opie was there, his body bent over the one that was lying on the ground...Donna's.

He felt Angela's hands fall from around his waist, a small gasp escaping her lips. Swallowing hard, he swung a leg over his seat, sliding off and leaving her sitting there. "Stay here," he ordered softly.

Angela nodded, her eyes stayed riveted to the figure lying prone on the floor. Donna. She'd just been talking to Donna only a few minutes ago. Tears filled her eyes as she heard Opie's sobs, her heart aching for him.

She watched in a trance as the paramedics took Donna away. The whole thing felt so surreal. Like it was happening in some sort of alternate reality. How could something like this happen to Donna? She was a happy mother of two! A loving wife! There was no reason for her to be gunned down like some sort of gang member.

She felt Juice's calloused thumb swipe over her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't known she'd shed. She focused on his large doe eyed stare. She could see tears gathering along his lower lashes, but he kept them at bay. "I'll take you home," he rasped, his voice deep and rough with grief. She barely nodded in agreement before he was speeding off towards the funeral home.

------------

Juice pulled up in front of Angela's place wishing he didn't have to leave her, but this was a time he needed to be with his brothers. She tightened her arms around him in a hug before sliding off the bike and stepping around so they were face to face. She gently caressed his cheek in a comforting gesture. "Go," she murmured, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah," he croaked, nodding slowly. "Yeah. Okay. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Lock your door, Angel," he reminded her as he prayed the men who had gunned down Donna didn't go after the other women they'd seen with the club. If so, Angela was definitely a target; they'd been seeing a lot of each other lately.

Angela nodded in response, wishing there was something she could do to help. She cleared her throat as she took a step back to give him room to pull away. "Um...there's a spare key in the ceramic skull at the bottom of the stairs," she explained softly. "If you need me, I'll be here."
------------
It wasn't much later in the night when Juice decided he did need her. Without another thought, he left Chibs sitting at the bar in the clubhouse, got on his bike, and headed her way.

The skull she'd mentioned was easy to find.
It was intricately painted with beautiful swirls and colors barely visible in the moonlight.  He picked it up, carefully uncorking the bottom and shaking out the key inside. His heart felt heavy as he trudged up the steps, deftly unlocking the door and letting himself in. He felt like shit and needed some comfort in something other than the bottom of a bottle of Bud.

He found her sitting on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chin. The only light in the room came from the TV screen, giving everything a bluish hue. The sound of the door closing behind him caught her attention. "Hi," she greeted, a sad smile on her face.

"Hey baby," he said, toeing off his boots before throwing himself on the couch. He lay down on the plush leather surface, his legs dangling off the edge to give her room. "C'mere."

Angela crawled over to him, draping one arm around his chest as she snuggled into his side, her head on his chest just over his heart. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, turning his face to press a kiss to her forehead, catching a whiff of her shampoo, a mixture of honey, vanilla, and jasmine that he was beginning to love. "You okay?" she asked, tilting her head back to look at him.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. "I can't...I can't believe it."

"I know," she breathed, lying her head back down. "Who would want to kill Donna?"

Juice shook his head. He had a feeling he knew exactly who that hit was meant for, and it wasn't Donna. "I don't know," he lied. The less she knew, the better.

"Do you guys know who did it?"

"Not yet," he replied, honestly this time. Between the Mayans and the Niners, it was tough to choose which club would want Opie dead more.

She nodded slowly but didn't ask for more information. "I'm sorry for your loss, Juice," she murmured, her fingers tracing shapes on the soft fabric of his t-shirt something that was definitely distracting him from what he was feeling.

"That what they tell you to say in funeral home school?" he asked, his tone slightly teasing.

"Yeah, actually," she replied on a sigh. "Grief counseling."

Juice sighed, his hand trailing up and down her back. "It doesn't help much."

"I know," she said, sadly. She tilted her head to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"That helps more," he stated, smiling slightly as she slid on top of him, her chest pressed against his.

She pushed off of him and stood up, reaching her hands out to him. "C'mon, baby, let's go to bed."

It was the first time she had ever called him "baby", and he couldn't help but smile in response. He loved the way the nickname sounded coming from her lips. Sitting up, he took her small hands in his larger ones and let her pull him off the couch. He slung an arm around her shoulders as they headed towards the bedroom as he thought about how lucky he was to have such an understanding woman in his life.

He stripped down to his boxers and stretched out on the bed, stretching an arm out to her. She snuggled in closer to him, lying her ear down on his heart. Lying there with her in his arms, Juice realized he'd been wrong to introduce her as 'Skeeter's assistant', she was so much more than that. She was his best friend outside the club; someone with whom he didn't need to keep up the tough guy act with. He could be nerdy and goofy with her without worrying what she thought about him. He didn't think he was in love with her, but he did love spending time with her. Life as a Son was difficult to handle on the best days. There were so many dangers to worry about, so many secrets to keep, it was nice to have one thing that was easy. And whatever strange thing he had going with Angela was as easy as breathing.