Juice groaned as he woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He reached out a hand for Angela but was surprised to find she wasn't there. A small note was left instead in her messy handwriting:

Had to work early! Sorry! Coffee and doughnuts are in the kitchen. Skeeter bought them.

See you later! ~A

He smiled as he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers. Grabbing his phone, he frowned at the caller ID; a telemarketer. "Fucker," he muttered, shaking his head. He padded his way to the kitchen where he poured himself a cup of coffee before opening the little pink box to find a few types of doughnuts sitting there. He shoved a doughnut hole into his mouth before grabbing a maple bar and heading towards the couch, totally making himself at home.

Meanwhile, Angela was standing in the casket showroom with Opie, Piney, and Skeeter, trying to help the distraught man pick out a coffin for his wife while Piney and Skeeter talked. Opie shook his head, messing with his black beanie as he looked at the ornate coffins. "I can't..."

"I know, it's hard, Opie," Angela said, setting a reassuring hand on his arm. "The dark wood is nice, elegant. Good for a strong woman. This one here has these pretty silver details on the corners."

"Yeah," he said, running a ringed hand over the smooth surface of the mahogany coffin. "This one is good. How much extra?"

Angela sighed; it was quite a big cost difference, but she wasn't about to let Opie pay it. "None," she said confidently. If Skeeter wanted to charge him the ridiculous mark up, he could take it from her salary.

Opie looked at Skeeter in disbelief. "No extra costs for the silver?"

Skeeter glanced at Angela before shaking his head. "Not for this one," he stated giving Angela a proud look. "I'll draw up the papers."

Angela followed after Skeeter. Once inside the office, she shut the door behind her. "You can take it out of my salary, Skeet. That and don't add my fees in there."

He smiled at her. "You got a good heart, Ang. I wasn't gonna charge him extra for it anyway. I'll waive your fees too. Go ahead and give him the bill."

She took the printed sheet from him and headed back into the room where Opie was sitting on one of the plastic covered couches, checkbook and pen at the ready, Piney standing behind him. "How much?" Piney asked, his blue eyes looking her over as Opie hastily wrote down whatever number was on there and signed off on the check. He handed it to her before shoving the receipt at his old man and heading out the door. Piney took the time to look over the bill before glancing warily at Angela. "You're not getting anything, sweetheart."

"I know," she said, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze. "I don't want anything."

"He doesn't need your hand outs."

"I know," she repeated on a nod. "I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for Donna. I liked her."

Piney gave her a nod before setting a large hand on her shoulder. "Good girl you got yourself here, Skeeter."

Skeeter nodded. "Yes sir."

"See you around," he said nodding at Skeeter than at Angela before making his way out.

Once he was gone, Angela handed Skeeter the check before running a hand through her hair. "She come in yet?"

"Yeah. Picked her up this morning Ope doesn't want a viewing but..." he trailed off, knowing his assistant would make the right conclusion.

"I'll make her look good," Angela stated. She turned to go, but his voice stopped her.

"That Juice guy...he still upstairs?"

She blushed a little, nervously tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "Yeah," she admitted softly.

The older man didn't look too pleased with that statement. "Be careful with him, kiddo. With what happened to Donna and everything...I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Angela gave him a smile; a little relieved he wasn't upset with her for having someone else sleep in the funeral home. To be honest, it was sort of a liability to have a stranger sleep there, but she trusted Juice. Either way, the liability didn't seem to be his concern. "I will, Skeet. Thanks."

She headed up the steps and into her apartment, smiling as she found Juice sitting on the couch freshly showered and dressed, his boots kicked up on the coffee table. He was just sinking his teeth into a doughnut when she walked in. "Hey you," she greeted, taking a seat next to him.

He placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in closer to his side. "You got up early," he stated, taking his eyes off the TV to look at her.

She sighed sadly. "Opie and Piney came in. They needed a woman's eye for certain things."

Juice's heavy sigh echoed her own. "How's Ope?"

"How do you think?"

He frowned in response, turning his head to kiss her forehead softly. "I probably should go and be with my brothers."

"Okay," she said on a nod. "I have to get to work."

He got up with a grunt before extending a hand to help her up. He hugged her tightly to his chest for a moment before pulling away to give her a sweet kiss. "Good luck, baby."

"I'll see you later?"

He nodded. "I'll be around."

As soon as he was gone, she heard another motorcycle pull up and groaned. Not now. As much as she loved her cousin, she had a lot on her plate right now and putting off preparing Donna was not going to make it any easier for her. Sighing, she walked down the steps to meet her cousin in the back lot as he pulled up. He slung his leg off his Dyna taking off his helmet and setting it carefully on his handlebars. "Hey kid," he greeted, giving her a quick hug. "You helpin' out with Ope's Old Lady?"

"Yeah," she replied, sitting down on the back steps. He took a seat next to her, stretching out his long legs and pulling out his box of cigarettes and the Zippo lighter she'd bought him when she was ten. It was an ugly black thing with a bright yellow smiley face on it; she'd saved a few months worth of her allowance to get it for him for his birthday. "You still have that thing?"

He raised an eyebrow at her as he lit a cigarette, giving her a look that told her it was a stupid question. Obviously, he still had it. "Yeah, so?" he asked after taking a drag.

Angela shrugged a shoulder. Sometimes she forgot her cousin had a sentimental streak in him. It was small, but it was there. The fact that he kept that ugly lighter was evidence enough. "How was Canada?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Uneventful," he answered easily, his eyes glancing down the road. "Saw Juice on my way in."

She grimaced, nervously playing with the ring on her right hand. One Happy had given her. "Yeah. He was just here."

"He been comin' round a lot lately?"

"Yeah," she answered honestly. Had it been a few years earlier, she would've lied to him, made up an elaborate story about her car breaking down or something, but she wasn't a teenager anymore. Plus, her secrets never stayed secrets for long with Happy. He always found out, and something told her, he already knew anyway. "But you knew that."

If he was shocked by her honesty, he didn't show it; he just shrugged in response. He had known she and Juice had a little something going on. When Angela first moved to Charming, he'd told Tig to look out for her. The moment she popped up on the Sons' radar, the SAMCRO Sergeant at Arms gave him a call to inform him what she was doing and who she was doing it with. "Thought you wanted nothing to do with the Sons."

"I don't."

"Don't look like it."

"I like Juice. He's a good guy. The fact that he's a Son has nothing to do with it."

He looked her over, noting the way her eyes were focused on her feet, the way she was twisting that ring around her finger. He knew she was worried about his reaction. Truthfully, she could've done worse. Juice was an idiot, but he was more innocent than the others. If anyone was going to treat Angela right, it'd be him. Still, it didn't sit well with him especially after what happened to Donna. "So what? You're his girl now?"

"I don't know, Hap," she said on a sigh. "We're just having fun."

Happy's eyebrows lifted at that statement. He sure as hell didn't like the sound of that. It made her sound easy, like a local sweetbutt. Having fun and then what? Was Juice gonna toss her out on her ass like a piece of trash? "Last thing I want is for you to be some croweater, kid."

"Nah, don't worry," Angela said with a small smile. "Like I said, I just like him. The cut on his back's got nothing to do with it."

He grunted, his dark eyes staring back off into the distance as he thought about her new little fling. He knew he could stop it if he wanted to. Juice was loyal as hell to the club and its members. If he had a problem with it, he wouldn't even need to get violent about it; he could just ask Juice to cut it off and he would. But how would that affect Angela? He frowned as he shook his head. "I don't like it."

She sighed, feeling completely helpless. That was the kiss of death. If Happy didn't like it, it didn't matter how much she fought against him; Juice would end it. Easy as that. This was why she'd been keeping it from him. "Yeah, I figured. So that's it then?"

The defeated, almost sad note to her voice bothered Happy. She'd been so cheery the last time he'd talked to her; he had practically been able to hear the smile in her voice over the phone. That had all faded in a couple of minutes because he'd said he didn't like her with Juice. He could handle making Angela miserable if he had a good reason for it, but this time, he didn't. Yeah, he didn't like the idea of her and Juice together, but if she wasn't expecting anything from the kid, how could she get hurt? "I don't want you to be the next Old Lady in a casket."

A flicker of hope blossomed in Angela's chest. The fact that he was explaining himself to her told her she might have a shot at changing his mind. He was waiting to hear her response and if she played her cards right, he might give in. "We're just friends, Hap. I'm not looking to be anyone's Old Lady. We're just having some fun."

Happy nodded contemplatively as his phone beeped in his pocket. "I gotta go, kid," he stated, leaning over to kiss her temple. "This ain't over. We'll talk more later."

She glanced up at him quizzically, trying to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Okay. See you."

Swinging one leg over his Dyna, he gave her a quick nod before starting it up and driving away. She stared after the motorcycle, watching it as it got smaller and smaller. She'd never understand her cousin.

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

Angela put her head phones on, putting on her classic rock music playlist as loud as she could take trying to drown out the heaviness of the situation with the volume of her music. Swallowing hard, she pulled the table with Donna on it to the center of the room, fixing the lights just so before she got to work, losing herself in the music and the task at hand. She tried not to think of the way little Ellie had looked adoringly at her mother when they were talking at the baby shower or the way Opie was constantly looking at her, checking to see if she was okay. Instead, she focused on the business side of the situation.

Juice stared at the closed door of the work room. Angela had never closed the door before, never bothered to draw the shade. She said not enough people walked down to visit her for it to be an issue. Hesitantly, he turned the knob, slightly relieved when it opened. After sending Tig, Happy, and Chibs to kill a seventeen year old girl, he needed some assurance that he wasn't a complete monster. He needed her.

He stepped into the room and stared at the sight before him as an even heavier weight fell on his shoulders. Angela was working on Donna's face, putting makeup on over the bullet wound in her forehead. Some rock music blasted in through her head phones, the reason she hadn't noticed him yet.

Juice took a moment to study her face. Her eyes were focused on the task at hand, dark and intense as she worked; the same intense stare he'd seen on Happy's face when he was torturing someone only a little softer and definitely not as scary. He watched the muscles in her arm move fluidly underneath her caramel skin as she worked. The embalming part was over, so she'd taken her most of her protective gear off. She was wearing just a simple black beater and jeans with her rubber apron over it. Paper sleeves covered her forearms up to her elbows, protecting her skin. As she tilted her head to the side, the light from above made the wet trail of a tear glimmer on her cheek. She sniffled slightly before blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, mumbling something to herself. He frowned when he realized what she'd said: Keep it together, Ang. His thoughts drifted back to when she'd admitted she had never had to work on anyone she knew before. No wonder this was hard for her.

She took a step back, taking off her gloves as she looked over her work and Juice was awed. Where Donna's forehead had once had a gaping bullet wound, it was now smooth as though nothing had happened. If she wasn't lying on Angela's table, it would be easy to mistake her for someone who was sleeping.

He took a step forward, catching Angela's attention. Quickly, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, an embarrassed blush rising to her cheeks. "Hey you," she said, sniffling slightly as she pulled her headphones out of her ears.

Juice walked around the table, impressed by her work. "Looks good, baby."

She gave him a sad smile. "Thanks, I did my best."

He stepped behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and underneath her apron as he set his chin on her shoulder. She sighed tiredly, turning her head to kiss his cheek. "You okay?" he asked.

"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally, closing her eyes as she leaned back into him. She didn't know how to answer that question. Before, when she was alone and working, she hadn't been okay. She'd been a wreck. But standing there with his arms around her, she felt better, stronger.

Juice knew she was not okay. Something was not right; she was being way too quiet. "Let's go for a ride," he murmured, his lips moving across her ear.

Shivers went down her spine as she nodded. "Okay," she agreed softly. She stepped away from him, pulling her apron over her head and hanging it up before taking the hand he offered her. He led her out to his motorcycle, scrolling through his iPod and putting on some mellow playlist before plugging it into his built in speakers as she settled in behind him.

As they rode out of Charming, they both felt their different stresses fade away; forgotten in the sleepy town behind them. Juice steered them around a road that climbed a moment, not stopping until he reached the top. Once there, he pulled over, taking her hand once again and pulling her down to sit in between his legs on the ground.

Angela sighed as she took in the beautiful view of Charming. From their high vantage point, she could see the valleys and mountains that surrounded the quaint town; not a single one marred by a skyscraper or the tacky neon lights of a fast food restaurant. She heard him digging through his pocket followed by the click of a lighter. "You're not going to set my hair on fire, are you?"

"Not on purpose," he muttered, his mouth around the cigarette. Once he got it lit, however, she realized it wasn't a cigarette at all, but a joint. She breathed in the earthy smell, tilting her head back onto his shoulder to look up at him. The burning end of the joint just barely lit up his face, bringing out the angle of his jawline. Her heart did a little flip; Juice was one good looking man. He took a long drag before passing it to Angela. "You smoke?"

She nodded, taking the small joint from him and pulling in her own long drag. She held it in for a second before exhaling the smoke out smoothly. They both sat in quiet thought for a moment, passing the joint in between them. Finally, Juice spoke up. "I did something bad today, Ang," he said slowly. He kept it vague, knowing she wouldn't need much to get the picture. "I didn't know it was bad when I did it, but now I do and I don't know how to feel about it."

Angela was silent, listening intently. Juice sighed, hanging his head down shamefully. He thought back on how he gave Jax the address to where the seventeen year old witness was being kept and hoped the VP had gotten there in time to prevent the young girl from being hurt. "I tried to fix it," he said after a moment. "I don't know if I did though."

She reached up a hand to gently stroke his cheek. "You're not a bad guy, Juice," she said softly, trying her best to comfort him though she had little to work with. "Whatever you did, it doesn't make you a monster."

"You don't even know what it is, Ang."

"My cousin has eleven happy faces tattooed on his body. That's eleven people he's killed. And those are only the ones he's done for his club; for his family," she stated, her words careful, deliberate. "But no amount of happy faces could ever make that man a monster in my eyes. When I look at him, I don't see that."

She let the words hang there for a second as she took a hit of the joint. "You're not a monster, Juice. Not even close. Whatever you did, I'm sure you did it for the club, right?"

"Yeah."

"So as twisted as it seems, your heart was in the right place. Like you said, you didn't know it was bad when you did it and then you tried to fix it, right? What part of that makes you a monster?"

As her words sunk in, he breathed a little easier; the guilt he had been feeling was slowly disappearing. Though her train of thought was a little unorganized, he got her point. She'd just made him feel a hundred times better. He pressed a thankful kiss to her shoulder. "You're my best friend, Angel," he whispered in her ear.

Angela turned her head and met his gaze; her heart doing a flip flop as the moon illuminated his chestnut brown eyes. She gave him a soft, sweet kiss. "You're mine too, Juice."