Angela woke up the next morning to find Juice sitting at the edge of her bed, his bare back to her, one hand rubbing back and forth over his head. She crawled over to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her chin on his shoulder. His hands covered hers and squeezed. "You gonna be there today?" he questioned, his voice sounding rough and tired.

She didn't need to ask where he meant; Donna's funeral was later that day. "Yeah," she answered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. "Skeet and I are riding in the hearse. I gotta help him out with the equipment and stuff. Flower arrangements...everything."

" 'kay," he said softly.

"Are you doing anything special?" she asked, eyeing the extra cut he'd brought with him the night before. He'd explained it was Jax's and that the VP had tossed it at him as he left the night before. Juice was taking on the responsibility of bringing it back to him.

"Couple of the other charters are up to show support. We're doin' a whole procession. You'll be in the middle of it," he explained flatly. He felt her sigh against him before kissing his shoulder once again. He was grateful for the affection and drew strength from her embrace.

She had a feeling his stress was more from what had happened the night before and less from what happened to Donna. He hadn't slept at all. Something she only knew because he hadn't been snoring like a lawnmower. She hadn't been able to sleep much either thanks to his tossing and turning. "You're not a bad guy, Juice," she assured him.

He relaxed a little bit, melting back into the circle of her arms. That was exactly what he needed to hear. "You really think so?" he asked, turning his head to look at her.

Angela's face was totally serious as she nodded. "Yeah, I really do."

"If you say so," he said on a sigh. He stood up slowly, giving her a sweet kiss before pulling his clothes back on, aware of her concerned eyes watching him. "I'm all right, Angel."

"I know," she said on a sad smile. Though she only half believed it. His usually bright and happy eyes were dull and sad, something she hated to see. "I just worry..."

A small smile turned up the corner of his lips. It was rare he had someone worrying about him. Most people just played him off as the goofy intelligence officer, no one ever stopped to ask how he was feeling, but she did. She actually cared. He leaned over to kiss her once again. "Thanks, Angel."

--------

"This is beautiful," Angela commented from her seat next to Skeeter in the hearse. Sons from all over the West Coast surrounded them, protecting and guiding their vehicle as they made their way toward the cemetery.

Skeeter nodded somberly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "It's not often one of their own die. This is a big deal," he explained gesturing to the bikers in front of him.

"I can tell."

"You did a good job, Angie. Takin' care of all this," he said gesturing at the motorcycles. "Last guy I had was scared shitless of them. Wouldn't work with them at all."

Angela shrugged, though inwardly she was happy with his compliment. "I grew up with guys like them. They're only scary if you piss them off. I try my best not to."

Skeeter nodded in agreement. "And this thing with Juice?"

"Don't worry about it, Skeet," she replied simply to end the conversation. It was a line she'd picked up from Happy. Something he usually said to her when he didn't want to talk about something. She wondered briefly if it would work on him.

"I do worry about it," he muttered under his breath but dropped the subject. He glanced at Angela who was staring straight out the window, twisting a ring around her finger nervously. "Just hang back. I've been to one of these before. The girls...they'll sit and watch while the men stand behind them. They won't cry or anythin'. They don't need their ladies to comfort them."

She gave Skeeter a soft smile and nodded. "Thanks, Skeet."

He nodded as he pulled up to the gravesite. Sighing, he put his hand on the door and turned to her. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she murmured, setting one booted foot on the ground. She'd dressed in her tailored black suit with the low neckline, making it look dressier with a silky black camisole underneath. She opened up the back of the hearse and waited with her hands folded in front of her as the boys of the Redwood Charter plus Happy went to lift the hearse. Juice brushed a quick kiss to her temple as he passed by, making her heart skip a beat. She watched as the men effortlessly lifted the ornate coffin out of the hearse and headed over to gravesite. She followed a respectable distance after, only stepping in to help put the casket on the coffin lowering device.

As she stepped away, her eyes caught Happy's and he gave her a quick nod. She nodded back, only half listening to the priest presiding over the ceremony. She knew if she let what he was saying sink in, she'd be crying her eyes out and she certainly couldn't let that happen.

When the ceremony was over, most of the people gathered there moved over to a tented area for the reception. Angela headed towards the hearse, taking a seat in the back to observe the crowd. She hadn't technically been invited to the reception, and she didn't feel like intruding. Juice was easy to spot from where she was sitting. He was talking to a brother from the Arizona charter, a serious look on his face, though every so often his dark eyes scanned the crowd as if he was looking for someone.

She felt the hearse bob as someone took a seat next to her. The sound of a lighter made her smile, she knew exactly who it was. "That's not going to be me, Hap," she stated softly as the familiar smell of cigarette smoke filled her nose.

"Not on my watch," his dark, gravelly voice agreed. Happy would never let that happen. Not in a million years. Her father had been the closest thing he'd had to a dad growing up. When she was three, her father had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. That was when he'd made Happy swear to take care of Angela. At sixteen, he understood the responsibility of that promise and took it to heart. Ever since then, he'd taken care of Angela first as a brother would take care of a sister and then later, when they were both older, as a father would take care of a daughter. "You happy?"

She sighed, raising an eyebrow at him. "We're at a funeral for a woman who died way before her time and left behind two kids and a loving husband. No, I'm not happy."

He rolled his eyes at her, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Didn't mean now," he muttered, shaking his head at her. "Does that idiot make you happy?"

Angela smiled down at her feet as she nodded. "Yeah, he does actually."

Happy grunted in response. He reached into his cut and pulled out a small paper bag before handing it over to her. "From Canada," he explained.

She smirked, digging her hand into it to retrieve a small pin. It was two simple letters one in red, one in white followed by a red question mark. "Eh?" she read aloud, rolling her eyes at him. "You've done worse."

"Didn't have much time," he said on a lazy shrug.

"Thanks, Hap," she said pecking his cheek quickly. He nodded, standing up from the hearse. "You goin' back to Tacoma?" she asked, looking up at him.

Happy shook his head. "Headin' over to Ma's."

"Tell them I say hi," she said, playing nervously with her ring as he fixed her with a disapproving look. It wasn't that she didn't like visiting her aunt, she wasn't the problem. It was her own mother that drove her crazy.

"You should tell 'em yourself," he said, shaking his head at her.

He leaned over to kiss her temple before walking back towards the reception leaving her alone to think about it. On his way over, he intercepted Juice who was headed towards Angela. He stopped him with a simple hand to the chest. "Take care a her," he muttered, his voice low and threatening. It was a subtle warning since Happy was not the kind to give out threats. They weren't needed. If he was going to kill someone, it'd be quick, without warning. Threatened people ran, that made them more difficult to kill.

Juice blinked at him for a second, his dark eyes wide. "Yeah...no...I will...I'm gonna..." he stammered as Happy walked away. He let out a sigh of relief as he watched the reaper on the back of Happy's cut get smaller and smaller. That could've gone a lot worse.

He smiled when he found Angela lying flat on her back in the hearse, her legs swinging back and forth over the bumper. He lay down next to her, his feet flat on the ground as he stared up at the roof of the car. He was surprised to find it was nicely decorated in a dark purple fabric. "Rough day," he commented on a sigh.

"Yeah," she agreed, turning her head to look at him. "How's Ope?"

"I dunno. He's leavin' for a few weeks. He's gotta clear his head for a bit," he explained on a sigh. "I talked to Hap. Sorta."

Angela frowned slightly, feeling a little sad. This was the end. She could feel it. "And?"

He sighed again, sitting up and shrugging his shoulders. He glanced back at her to find her sitting up on her elbows, a worried look on her face. "What did he say, Juice?" she pushed, already dreading his answer.

"Told me to take care of you," he answered, chuckling as she slapped his arm before lying back down, a relieved breath escaping her lips.

"You scared the crap out of me," she said on a breath before sitting up.

Juice smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders. "Can't get rid of me that easy."

She smiled at him, hesitantly reaching out her pinky and curling it around his. She wondered briefly if he'd pull away from the simple show of affection. She knew big bad MC guys weren't the type to hold hands, but to her surprise, he moved his hand and engulfed her smaller one in it. Juice leaned in and caught her lips with his own in a sweet kiss.

Happy watched the exchange from a distance. Noting the way his cousin was smiling. He didn't like seeing anyone's hands on her let alone one of his brothers'. He'd successfully kept her out of the Tacoma clubhouse, not that it was much of a struggle. True to her word, she never wanted to be part of the club. The only SAMTAC member she knew was Kozik and that was only because Kozik was one of his closest friends.

But seeing her smile like that with that tattooed, mowhawked idiot made the whole thing acceptable. It was much better than her dating that asshole Mayan. At least Juice would treat her right if not because he was a good guy than because he was scared as hell of what would happen to him if he didn't. Happy could deal with that.