Angela was just finishing up embalming someone when her cell phone rang. Raising an eyebrow, she took off one set of gloves and reached for it. "Angela Ruiz," she answered in work mode, cradling it between her shoulder and her ear as she put another pair of gloves on. She always double gloved, you could never be too careful around dead people no matter how much disinfectant was put on them.

"Angel? It's Juice," came the voice on the other end. "We met today...when we needed a body..."

She smiled, she didn't need the reminder; his goofy grin had stayed with her all day. "I remember. What can I do for you?"

"Is the uh...oven free? We need it and we know Skeeter's a little...distracted," he said for lack of a better word. Skeeter was probably having the time of his life with the Croweater he'd sought out as payment.

"Yeah, sure," she replied on a shrug. She figured Skeeter already knew about it. She knew they'd probably need it for something that wasn't exactly legal, but her moral compass had never pointed true North and Skeeter had explained how important the Sons of Anarchy were in Charming. If they needed her, she was more than happy to help out. "Come over whenever. I'll be here."

Juice found that interesting. "Do you live there?"

"Yeah, actually," she answered on a light laugh. "There's an apartment over the parlor."

"Creepy."

"You get used to it, I guess. These bodies...do they need anything special done to them?"

She could hear him sigh as he thought. "Um...no, probably not. I don't know. Do bodies usually need something special?"

"Well, are you taking their ashes with you?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, though I'm not a hundred percent sure. Tig's a weirdo."

Angela didn't know who Tig was, but she made a mental note to turn the cremulator on, just in case. "Okay. Just let me know when you're out back."

"Sounds good," he sang and she could hear the smile in his voice. "See you later then, Angel."

"Later," she said, taking off both pairs of gloves and tossing them into the trash. She looked down at what she was wearing and cursed. Of course, a bunch of hot biker men would be coming over when she was in sweats and a tank. Quickly, she went over to the incinerator and turned it on so it would heat up before rushing into the parlor.

She ripped open the door that hid the stairs to her apartment. Taking the steps two at a time, she bounded into her place. The apartment had originally been worker's quarters for the huge plantation house but when Skeeter's old man transformed it into a funeral home, he'd converted it into a decent sized apartment complete with a small kitchen. It was cozy, if not a little morbid.

Once in her bedroom, she quickly changed into a pair of tight ripped jeans before throwing on a red plaid shirt over her white wife beater. She re-braided her hair so it was nice and neat, finishing just seconds before her phone went off. "Angela Ruiz."

"We're outside," Juice's voice answered.

"Be right there," she said already on her way down the steps. Instead of going out of the front door, she went around back. That's where the boys had gone before, and she was pretty sure that's where they'd be again. She spotted five bikes and a truck as she rounded the corner. Their owners were leaning against the building, a few of them smoking, one of them looking down at his feet.

Juice pushed himself off the wall and headed her way. "Hey Angel," he greeted with a big goofy smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Thanks for doing this on such short notice."

"No worries," she said on a shrug. She watched as the rest of the men headed her way and quirked an eyebrow. "Are you all going to go in there for this?"

"Guess so," Juice answered, following her towards the separate building, his brothers behind him.

She unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. One of the older looking men nodded to her, his patch read 'Secretary'. "Maybe you should go take a walk while we get ourselves situated," he hinted, nodding towards the other side of the building. At her hesitation, he smiled. "Don't worry, darlin'. We won't break anything."

Angela nodded and walked in the direction he'd nodded to, shoving her hands in her pockets as she kicked at the gravel on her trek. She took a seat on the front steps and pulled out her cell phone to play some Snake while she waited. She'd just gotten a high score when she heard the motorcycles start up again. The sound of footsteps alerted her that one of the men had stayed behind. She looked up from her game and smiled as she saw Juice round the corner, hands in his pockets.

"All done?" she asked, ending the game and tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"Yeah, thanks," he answered on a nod.

"No worries," she replied, standing up from her seat. She raised an eyebrow when he didn't leave. "You staying?"

Juice shrugged a shoulder. "Quality control. How long does it usually take?"

She smirked as he threw her own words back at her. She wondered how much the Prospect had told him about their little chat. "Little over an hour. Want a beer?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, bobbing his head. He let her lead the way into the main entrance of the parlor. The place smelled strongly like fresh wood and flowers. His eyes darted toward the left to find a room filled with coffins, most likely the source of the woody smell. He felt a chill go down his back. "Not gonna lie, this place kinda creeps me out," he stated, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Why? The people are dead. What are they gonna to do to you?" she asked, opening the door that led to her stairs. She flicked on the light and turned to find his light brown eyes regarding the steps suspiciously. He didn't comment on the sketchy stairs, just followed slowly after her, his boots clunking loudly on the wooden steps.

"Don't you watch zombie movies? That's some scary shit!" he exclaimed, his hands gesturing as he talked.

"I don't watch scary movies for that exact reason," she stated with a smile as she opened the door to her apartment.

The smell of coffee and vanilla hit him as soon as he stepped foot in the room. It was a much better smell than that of the parlor. Homey and comforting. He half-expected to see freshly baked cookies sitting on the counter. "A hidden apartment in a place full of dead people," he commented, looking around the sparse apartment. "Yep, still creeped out."

She laughed lightly, shaking her head at him as she headed towards the small kitchen. As she leaned over to grab something out of the fridge, he took the opportunity to check out her round ass that was well highlighted by her tight jeans. His fingers itched to just grab it and squeeze, and had she been a Croweater, he would've done it, but something told him she wouldn't be so happy about it.

"That's because you watch too many scary movies," she quipped, popping the top of each bottle with the bottle opener that was built into the edge of the counter.

"Fair enough," he said, watching her as she lifted herself up onto the counter and leaned back, her head resting against the cabinets behind her. Her position put her chest in his eye line, so he looked his fill; Chibs was right, she did have nice tits.

Angela wasn't stupid, she knew exactly where Juice was looking. Rolling her eyes, she took a sip of her beer before placing the mouth of it under his chin to tilt it up so his gaze was on her face instead. "Sorry," he said as he grinned up at her, his tongue pushed up against his teeth. The grin told her he was anything but.

"Uh-huh," she said, shaking her head at him.

He studied her face, looking for a trace of anger or annoyance, instead her dark gaze was curious; as if she was trying to figure him out. "You been in Charming long?" he asked, making the first move.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head. "Just a month or two. My cousin found this job, suggested I take it. I figured nothin' too bad can happen in a town called Charming, right?"

Juice didn't miss the sarcasm in her question. He wondered how much she knew about the MC, or if she knew anything at all. The intelligent gleam in her eyes told him she probably knew more than she was letting on. "Guess not," he said, smirking at her. "You see a lot of messed up cases?"

"Not from Charming. The bad cases we get are guys from Charming that left and get sent here for their final resting place. Usually we just get old people."

"We do our best to keep the bad shit out," he explained smoothly.

Angela took a sip of her beer and nodded. "You do a good job. Our cases are boring as hell. At least the hospital has good coffee."

"You go there a lot?"

She nodded. "I spend my most of my mornings there. Grab some coffee, talk to the cafeteria workers and some nurses, pick up dead people."

"Nice routine you got there."

She gave him a facial shrug. "It keeps me entertained. I bet your routine is very...different."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Now why would you think that? I'm just a mechanic and Harley enthusiast."

"Uh-huh sure," she teased a smile blooming on her face. He found he liked her smile. It was sweet and natural, not at all like the forced "come hither" smiles some of the Croweaters wore. "From what I gather, and I may be wrong, Jax is VP and that guy with the crazy hair is the secretary and you are...blank."

Juice followed her gaze to the blank right side of his cut. He had yet to earn any patches to put there. No "Man of Mayhem" or "Unholy Ones" and he didn't hold an official patched office. He frowned slightly. "Well, at least I know you can read," he quipped, earning him a smirk from Angela. "I'm the Intelligence officer."

"Hacker," she teased.

"Intelligence officer, hacker, incredibly sexy computer wizard, call me what you like," he rattled off, waving his hand. He found talking to Angela was easier than talking to most girls. She wasn't at all intimidating and she was smart enough to carry on a conversation that was about more than sex which was a plus. "And you're the grave digger, I'm guessing."

"Mortician," she corrected easily. "Mortician, undertaker, smart, beautiful embalmer. Take your pick."

"Copy cat," he accused, watching as she slid down from the counter to her feet to throw away her empty beer. The movement pulled up the corner of her shirt, revealing more of the colorful ink along her hip. "What's that?" he asked, pointing the mouth of his empty beer bottle towards her hip.

She lifted the hem of her shirt, tugging down the waist of her jeans to reveal the full tattoo. "It's a koi fish."

Juice gaped in awe at the intricate ink. The brilliant orange and yellow colors of the fish stood out against the deep blue and white waves it was battling against. The design curved perfectly over her hip bone, the tail of the koi flapping up onto her side just above the ridge of her pelvic bone. The colors seemed to glow against her tan skin. "That's awesome," he said, reaching out a finger to trail over the curve of the fish's back.

His touch set fire to her skin and she swallowed hard, pulling her shirt back down before she did anything stupid. He pulled his hand away with a cocky grin. Fucker, she thought to herself. He seemed to know exactly the effect he'd had on her. "Thanks," she mumbled. Hesitantly, she trailed one finger over the tribal designs on the side of his head. "Those are neat. Bet they hurt."

"Not really," he lied. He had seen the way his touch had effected her, watched the lust fill her eyes, but he was unprepared for the rush of feeling that flowed through him as she traced the designs on his head. Unlike her, he didn't pull away. He caught her gaze and held it. It was rare he took enough time to look at a girl to consider her beautiful. Usually, his eyes were drawn to one thing. Well, two and from there the description was either sexy or hot. Standing in front of Angela, he noticed the darkness of her eyes, the fullness of her slightly parted lips, the small dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. Yeah, she was beautiful.

The loud buzz of her cell phone alarm ended the staring contest in a stalemate. Angela smiled up at him as she stepped around him. "Time to check on the oven," she called over her shoulder. She turned around to face him, walking backwards towards the door. "You comin'?"

"Yeah." He pulled up his pants and jogged after her. He watched the swing of her hips as she strode confidently into the room with the incinerator, taking a seat on the steps so he was out of her way.

Angela pulled the apron back over her head and turned down the fire as she stood on her toes to peek in through the glass window. "They're about done," she said more to herself to him as she put on the heavy duty, flame retardant gloves. "That was faster than usual."

"Tig cranked it up all the way," Juice explained deciding to leave out the fact that the bodies were already burnt to begin with. There were some things she just didn't need to know. He watched the delicate muscles in her arms flex as she opened the heavy door. He could only guess she got muscles like that from her daily work which was kind of hot in a creepy way. He liked that she worked with her hands.

"Awesome."

Juice peaked over her shoulder to see for himself, the front of his cut just barely brushing against her back. "That doesn't look like those ashes you see in movies," he commented.

"They need to be put through the cremulator first," she explained, aware of how close he was to her and desperately trying to ignore it.

"What's that do?"

She pulled the ashes out, stepping around him to dump the remains into the machine figuring they'd be easier to dispose of that way anyway. "Grinds the remains into a nice powder for loved ones to put wherever they desire. Urns, oceans, necklaces."

"Gross."

Angela laughed and nodded. She never did like the idea of cremation. When she died, she wanted to be laid to rest in one piece, not scattered like sand. "People are weird," she commented on a shrug. She put the ashes into a box and handed it to him. "All done."

He looked down at the simple plastic box and then back at her. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?"

She shrugged a shoulder, a laugh escaping her lips at the completely confused look on his face. He was cute when he was confused. "I don't know. Throw it away? Flush it down the toilet? Give it to your friend?"

His eyes widened when he realized she was serious. He hadn't been expecting this. What would he do with a box of ashes? "Real helpful, Angel," he said scowling at her. He knew what would happen if he tried to give it to Tig; he'd end up with a face full of ashes. "You're seriously gonna make me handle this?"

Angela laughed as she took the box back from him, her gloved hands brushing against his. "Just kidding," she teased, laughing harder at the relieved look on his face.

He let out a sigh of relief, shaking his head at her. "Almost gave me a fuckin' heart attack."

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"Uh-huh," he said, noting that she was within arm's reach. If he wanted to, he could wrap his hands around those round hips and pull her in, closing the distance between them. His phone rang loudly in his pocket, stopping his train of thought. He frowned, pulling it out before his eyes widened. Shit, he thought. He was running late for Gemma's dinner! "I gotta go."

She nodded, smirking when he didn't move. What was he waiting for? "All right. I guess I'll see you around..."

"Right," he breathed, that big smile spreading across his face. He took two steps towards the door before stopping and turning around to face her again. "Hey, I'm going to Funtown tomorrow with the guys. You want to come?"

Angela fought against the blush that was threatening to show on her cheeks. Was this is way of asking her out? As asinine as "FunTown" sounded, she honestly wanted to go. She liked spending time with Juice; he was interesting and goofy. She needed some of that levity in her life. Frowning, she shook her head. "As fun as that sounds, I can't. We got a big funeral tomorrow and Skeet said it'd probably take all day which is...awesome."

"Bummer," he said, his own frown matching hers. "Another day?"

"Yeah, sure," she answered honestly. "I'd like that."

He nodded, his smile getting bigger which she hadn't thought was possible. "Cool. I'll hit you up sometime."

She gave him a quick nod. "I'll be here."