Angela looked at the outside of the funeral home from the window of her bedroom. It was packed with bikers from across the West Coast intermingling with Army vets from around the world, all of them there to pay their last respects to Half-Sack. She glanced at Juice who was just shrugging on his cut as she pulled on her black quarter-length sleeved suit jacket over a dark blue silk cami. She was more formal than most of the funeral goers in her slacks and suit jacket, but she had to be; this was her place of work. Pulling her long hair out of the back of her jacket, she sighed. "It's already crazy out there and Skeet hasn't even opened the doors yet," she commented.

"Yeah," he said distractedly as he looked her over. She looked so sexy in her black suit with her heeled boots. He took her hips in his hands, pulling her back into his chest. "Where did you get the suit?"

Angela laughed, leaning into him and tilting her neck to the side as he started trailing kisses down her soft skin. "Victoria's Secret."

"I love that store," he murmured into her neck, his hands sliding under her shirt. "You look like a sexy secret agent."

"Maybe I am," she teased, her breath hitching in her throat as he nipped at her throat. "Don't you dare mark me, Juice Ortiz."

He chuckled about to say something in response when Skeeter's voice interrupted him. "Angie! Let's get this thing started!" the funeral home director called up the stairs, making Juice stop what he was doing with a sigh.

She frowned, turning around in Juice's arms and leaning into his chest. "Ready?

He nodded, pulling away slightly and catching her face in his hands. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her lips wrapping his arms tightly around her. She hugged him back, giving him a reassuring squeeze, both of them drawing strength from each other's embrace. He kissed her once more, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Yeah. Let's do this."

Angela stood with Skeeter as people filed in through the main entrance. Her eyes swept the incoming crowd for familiar faces, greeting each one she encountered with a solemn nod. Normally at wakes, she and Skeeter kept out of the mourners' way, and she was trying her best to keep to that, but it was hard when she was seeing people she knew walk in and out. The only time the rule was broken was when Kozik walked in and swept her up off her feet in a bone crushing hug. Other than that, she kept to her post beside her boss. A few minutes went by before Skeeter gently elbowed her arm. "Go 'head and mingle. You're off duty now," he said nodding to the crowd. "I can do the rest."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she gave him a small smile. "Really?"

"You worked hard on this. You deserve to...enjoy it," he said, unsure of how to phrase the last part.

"Thanks, Skeet," she said, patting his arm before going to step into the crowd.

She spotted Lyla standing by the main door and headed her way. Once she was beside her, she bumped her hip against the blonde's, letting her know she was there. Lyla sighed, looping her arm through Angela's and leaning her head against her shoulder. "Could've been one of ours," Lyla said softly, her eyes on Opie's back. Most of the SAMCRO brothers and Happy were standing in front of the coffin, silently paying their respects.

"But it wasn't," Angela replied, remembering what Happy had told her earlier.

Lyla looked up at Angela, admiring her strength. She didn't know how the brunette played it off so coolly when she was practically shaking as the 'what if's' plagued her. She and Opie had just gotten together; she wasn't ready for him to be taken away yet. "Yeah," she agreed on a nod.

Juice and Opie approached them, each of the men wrapping their ladies in a quick hug. Opie pushed Lyla towards the door. "Why don't you girls get some air?" he asked, watching as Jax and Clay headed through the crowd.

"Okay," Lyla said on a nod.

Angela glanced at Juice, wondering if that's what he wanted as well. He nodded, squeezing her hip in reassurance. "Go ahead. I'll be out in a minute."

"All right," she said, pecking his cheek quickly before heading out the front door with Lyla.

They stood just a few feet from the door, silently watching the other mourners mingle. "You must be used to all this," Lyla said, gesturing to the crying people around them.

Angela shrugged a shoulder as she shifted from foot to foot. There was something...not right. Some sort of tension hung in the air as if someone was waiting to exhale. "It's always different," she answered, watching Hale survey the street. "You can't get used to death. It changes too much."

"That was deep, Ang," the blonde said, a teasing smirk on her face. "Sounds like you've said it before."

She had. Many, many times. "Oh no, never," she replied sarcastically. "Asking an undertaker about death? That's unheard of."

Lyla smiled, shaking her head at her friend. "Almost like asking a porn star about sex, huh?"

Angela smirked as she nodded. "Ya know, I've been meaning to ask..."

"Oh shut up," Lyla scoffed, rolling her eyes and hitting Angela's arm lightly. She straightened up when she saw Opie heading towards them.

Angela took a step back allowing them some privacy as she waited for Juice who was coming her way along with the rest of his brothers. Her eyes were drawn to a silver van that was driving down the street way too fast. "Weird," she murmured, her eyes following its path.

Then the door slid open and shots rang out. As soon as he heard the first shot, Juice sprinted towards Angela, tackling her to the ground. Angela bit back a cry as she felt a sharp pain shoot up her arm when she landed on her wrist wrong, Juice's weight pressing down on top of her.

Juice carefully pushed himself off of her, extending a hand to help her off the ground. "You okay?" he asked looking her over. He was relieved to see that she was unscathed. There was something about her expression that had him thinking something was wrong though. "What?"

"It's nothing," she said, trying to hide her wrist from his sight. She wasn't sure if it was broken or just sprained and she wasn't about to test it out in front of Juice. That would make him feel awful. "I'm fine."

He gently grabbed her forearm, taking her small hand in his and inspecting her wrist. It was just starting to swell up and turning an awful shade of purple. "Shit, Ang," he murmured, testing it gently and feeling guilty as hell. He'd done this. He hadn't needed to tackle her to the ground like that. She probably would've gone down on her own, but in his panic, the only thing he could think of was making sure she was safe. He never would've thought he'd be the one to hurt her. "I'm sor..."

She winced, pulling away from his grasp. "Don't," she said, cutting him off. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Go help your brothers."

"No. It might be broken. You need to get it checked out, Angel," he insisted, standing firm. He glanced towards Happy who nodded at her, a questioning look on his face. She nodded back, holding up her wrist and shrugging. Happy nodded once more before glancing towards where Jax had broken away from the crowd and was heading towards the shooter. It was a silent communication that she was all right, one Happy had taken without much thought. Juice was a little disappointed Happy didn't seem to care about the injury, it certainly didn't help his cause.

"No," she said, pointing at Jax. "You need to go help Jax 'cause he's about to beat the crap out of that guy," she said, pushing him towards where Jax was quickly approaching the shooter on the ground.

Juice ignored her and sought out Tara. "Doc, can you take a look at this? I think it's broken," he asked the doctor who was standing just a few feet away.

Tara tore her eyes away from Jax for a second to glance down at Angela's wrist. "Can you move it?" she asked, glancing up at Angela quickly before looking back at Jax.

Angela nodded, turning her wrist in a slow circle. The movement made her wince, but she could do it just fine. "Ice and Tylenol?"

"Yeah and then brace..." Tara trailed off as a gasp left her lips. Jax was brutally slamming the shooter's face into the sidewalk, over and over again.

"Oh shit," Angela cursed, her jaw dropping as she watched Bobby and Opie try and pull Jax off.

As soon as they managed to get Jax away, a policeman handcuffed him and pushed him towards a cop car. Angela could hear the sound of ambulances coming and quickly surveyed the scene around her. A boy lay dead on the grass, his mother crying as she held him. There were others still that were injured. Across the street, someone from the coroner's office had just laid a sheet over David Hale. The thought of having to prepare both bodies in the near future made her feel sick to her stomach.

The club members started huddling up around their mother charter, all brothers speculating who was responsible for the hit in hushed voices. Angela glanced over at Lyla who was standing by herself wringing her hands together, her brows furrowed together in concern. Pushing her own fear away, she headed over to the blonde. "Hey, I need to get something out of my apartment before the police start investigating," Angela stated, trying to distract her friend. "Want to come with?"

Lyla nodded shakily, looping her arm through Angela's and walking with her to the steps on the side of the building. Angela opened the door to reveal a living room that would've been totally normal, save that it was filled with caskets. "Woah."

"These aren't usually here, I swear," Angela said, gesturing towards them with her good hand. "I need stuff from my room. There's drinks and stuff in the fridge. Make yourself at home."

"You say that like it's a possibility," Lyla replied, stepping warily around the coffins on her way to the kitchen table. She sat down, bouncing her leg up and down nervously. She felt restless and scared. What if the shooters came back? What if something happened to Opie? She needed a distraction. Angela had done her best to help, but it wasn't working, not when she was literally surrounded by symbols of death. When she thought of Angela, a thought popped into her head. Standing, she headed to the fridge and pulled open the freezer. She grabbed out an ice tray and started pulling out ice cubes and putting them in a dish towel she'd found nearby before tying it up into a neat little bundle. She took the makeshift icepack and headed down the hallway. "Ang?" she called out.

"In here," her friend's voice replied from a room off to the right.

Lyla walked into the bedroom just in time to see Angela tuck a handgun into the waistband of the jeans she'd just changed into. "Woah," she repeated. "Do you know how to use that?"

Angela nodded. "Yeah," she said, bending down to grab Happy's safe from underneath her bed. It was small and contained things like his black address book, some cash, and other things she wasn't supposed to know about.

"Nice," said the blonde, handing the icepack to her friend. At Angela's curious look, Lyla shrugged. "Your wrist is the size of a balloon. I know the drill."

She slung her pack over her shoulder before taking the ice pack and putting it on her wrist. "Thanks, Ly."

"No problem," she replied with a smile. "Hey, you think you could teach me to shoot someday? With all this craziness I...I feel like its somethin' I should know."

"Sure," answered Angela, trying her best to balance the icepack on her wrist while she moved around the room. She stopped suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck pricking up as she heard someone trying to come in through the front door. She let the icepack drop to the floor as she drew out the gun, holding it out in front of her with her good hand. "Stay here, Ly."

She walked towards the front door, her heart hammering in her chest. What if the people who'd shot up the place just seconds before had come back? Before she got there, however, the door opened and Juice stepped in, Opie close behind him. "Easy. It's just us," Juice said, gesturing for Opie to walk in before closing and locking the door behind them.

Opie glanced around the coffin filled living room. "Strange choice of furniture," he mumbled to himself.

"They're not usually here," Juice assured him, his eyes following Angela's every movement as she tucked her gun back into her jeans. He saw her wince as the movement irked her wrist and felt a small pang of his own. It was strange how seeing her in pain caused him physical pain as well. He'd never experienced something like that with anyone before.

"Right," the bigger man said under his breath. "Lyla here?"

Angela nodded. "Ly! Ope's here," she called down the hall.

Lyla practically ran out of the room and to Opie. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Opie smoothed a hand over her hair before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Ready?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. See you later, Ang."

"Ride safely," Angela said with a small wave. "See ya."

Once they were gone, Juice turned to Angela. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, her tone a little frustrated.

The look on his face told her he didn't believe her. "Hap said something about a safe..."

"Got it," she said quickly. Since the funeral home was now a crime scene, the police would be allowed anywhere on the premises. She wasn't about to risk them getting into her cousin's safe since she was pretty sure a few things inside it were illegal.

"You sure you're all right?"

She smiled as she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned into his strong chest, her ear pressed to his heart. "Yeah. I just want to get outta here. Please."

Juice sighed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and hugging her tightly. "Okay. Let's go home."

As soon as they got to his place, Juice pulled her into the bathroom. She watched curiously as he pulled out a huge first aid kit from under his sink. It definitely hadn't been there just a few weeks earlier when she'd needed it to help patch him up. She wondered if he'd bought it around the same time he'd bought her coffeemaker. He opened up the kit and surveyed its contents before looking to her, a clueless look on his face.

"What do I do to make it better?" Juice asked, holding her wrist in his hand.

"Kiss it?" she said with a smirk. At his glare, she realized just how guilty he felt about hurting her and how serious he was about fixing it. She sighed, looking over the new first aid kit. The thing seemed to be equipped for some kind of natural disaster. "This is new," she said gesturing to the kit before picking out a rolled up elastic bandage and handing it to him.

"Thought it'd be useful," he said on a shrug. He unrolled the bandage, setting the two metal binding clips on the counter.

"It's better than condoms and rubbing alcohol," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. He was treating her injury like it was life-threatening when it really wasn't all that bad.

He rolled his eyes, too worried about her wrist to give in to her playful banter. "Yeah," he agreed distractedly. He held out the elastic bandage. "Now what?"

"I can do this, Juice," she said, trying to take it away from him. "I've done it before."

He shook his head stubbornly, moving the bandage out of her reach. "No. You're my girl; I'm takin' care of you. What do I do?"

"Wrap it around my wrist. Tightly but not tight enough to cut off my circulation," she instructed with a small smile. "And I'm gonna need an icepack."

"Okay. I can do that," he said, taking her wrist into his hand. His eyebrows drew together in concentration as he began to wrap the bandage around her wrist, his touch careful as if she might break at any moment. She loved the crinkle in his brow he got when he was focused on something, as he was now, and the way he insisted on taking care of her. It was times like these, when the badass MC member faded away, that she realized how deep her feelings for him went and how scared she was of those feelings. He finished wrapping her wrist, putting on the metal bindings before pressing a kiss to the top of her hand. "All done."

Angela smiled, taking his face in her hands before capturing his lips with her own. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Least I could do. I'm the one that hurt you."

She rolled her eyes, hopping down off the counter. "I'd rather have a sprained wrist than a gun shot wound," she said, trying to make him feel better.

"I was just surprised Happy didn't kill me," Juice muttered honestly as he followed her back into the bedroom.

"Nah. This is nothing compared to what Kozik did to me," she said on a shrug. "Happy almost killed him."

Juice raised an eyebrow. Happy and Kozik were pretty close; Kozik must've done something particularly bad if Happy almost killed him. "What'd he do?" he asked, grabbing one of the instant icepacks from the first aid kit and skimming over the directions.

"We were hustling this game of pool one night at a bar," she started as she wriggled out of her jeans. "Which was strike one in Hap's book. Guy got pissed, pulled his gun. Strike two. Kozik tackled me to the ground and broke my wrist."

"Strike three," Juice finished under his breath as he snapped the icepack to get it to work. He was distracted from the story by her panties. It was a particularly lacy pair with a silvery sheen to them that made her tan skin glow in the dim light of his bedroom. "Damn," he said under his breath, watching her pull off her top, her long dark hair falling down her back.

Angela nodded exaggeratedly. "Hap would've taken him out if he wasn't a Son."

"I'm not surprised." He tore his eyes from her, feeling awful for wanting to tackle her to the bed and have his way with her after everything they'd just been through. Sighing, he stripped down to his boxers, booted up the X-box, and lay down on the bed. She joined him soon after, dressed in one of his big t-shirts and a pair of her own little shorts. He raised his arm, allowing her to snuggle into the space between his arm and chest before he put his arm around her and started up his Call of Duty game.

She knew why he'd wanted to play the violent video game; it was his way of calming himself down. She had no problem watching him play, either. As long as she was in his arms, it was totally fine by her. "Have you ever been shot?" she asked, playing with the ice pack instead of putting it on her wrist.

"Shot at, yes. Actually shot? No," he answered without taking his eyes off the screen.

She glanced up at him, fighting the urge to giggle at the cute look on his face. His nose was crinkled, lip curled as he jammed the different buttons in just the right pattern. "Have you ever shot anyone?" She watched him clench his jaw briefly. It was almost as if she could see him debating whether or not to answer that question.

"I've shot at people," he replied, his voice low as he paused the game. He took the icepack from her and put it back on her wrist knowing it wouldn't do her any good if it wasn't actually on her injury."Can't say for sure if I've hit anyone. I don't stop and check. Why? Have you?"

Angela shook her head. "No, never," she admitted softly. "I've had to pull it out before but...I don't think I could ever actually shoot someone. It scares the crap out of me."

"Shooting people or the fact that you wouldn't be able to if you had to?"

"Both," she answered honestly. "I see what death does to the ones left behind on a daily basis. I don't ever want to be the cause of that kind of pain."

He dipped his head forward to kiss her lips. "You don't have to worry about that, Angel. Someone pulls a gun out on you, I'll be the first to shoot them. I'm always gonna protect you...even if I break one of your bones in the process."