Thank you all for your comments! You guys convinced me to keep posting here on Wattpad! :) I'm hoping to post it up pretty fast since I have this whole story completed on Fanfiction.net. I'm going to edit it (and add to it) as I go, though, so it might be slightly different from the other one.

To give you a frame of reference, this chapter is set towards the end of Season 1, episode 3. ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Angela

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A few days went by and Angela hadn't heard anything from Juice. She chalked it up to mixed signals; apparently, he hadn't been as into her as she had originally thought. It still didn't stop her from whipping her head around at the sound of a Harley to see if it was him. She pulled the funeral home's huge burgundy van into the St. Thomas parking lot and slid out of the seat, hitching up her pants as she went to grab her cart from the back. She spotted the black motorcycle parked by the front steps and a flicker of hope blossomed in her chest; maybe Juice was there. Her hopes were dashed when she saw Jax heading towards the bike, making her feel stupid for hoping it was the mohawked biker with the goofy smile.

Jax spotted her, a lazy smile forming on his face. "Hey Ang," he greeted with a nod as she rolled the cart towards the hospital. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Getting a cup of coffee and then maybe I'll pick up a body."

"Just maybe?" he asked, amused by her nonchalance.

"Yeah. Unfortunately, bodies don't just walk to the funeral home. You have to go get 'em," she explained with a wink.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Good luck," he told her as he strapped his helmet on. He watched her push the cart up the ramp before an idea struck him making him pause. " 'ey Angie! Go by the police station on your way home. I hear there's some pretty interesting scenery over there."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, dying to ask but deciding against it; she was going to find out eventually. "Sure thing. See you around!"

After grabbing a quick cup of coffee in the St. Thomas cafeteria, she loaded the body into the empty van and climbed up into the driver's seat. Remembering what Jax had said, she took the long way back, driving by the police station on her way to the funeral home. A big laugh left her lips as she saw exactly what Jax had meant when he said there was some "interesting scenery". Juice was walking down the avenue clad in just a diaper and his big work boots, a very confused look on his face.

She slowed to a stop next to him, honking to catch his attention and laughing when the sound made him jump. "Look at that, a lost baby," she teased through her open window.

Juice just gave her his trademark grin, not at all ashamed of his state of undress. Angela wasn't surprised, his body was well toned and quite a sight to behold. He had no reason to be embarrassed. It was the adult sized diaper he should be embarrassed about, she decided. "Oh hey Angel," he greeted, leaning into the van through the passenger's window. "How's your day goin'?"

"Better than yours," she shot back, unlocking the door. "Need a ride home?"

He scratched at the back of his neck, still trying to figure out where he was. "Sure, I guess," he said, opening the door and groaning as he hopped into the car. He could only guess his sore muscles were a result of sleeping on the ground. "Where'd you come from?" he asked, looking around the van.

"The hospital," she said, nodding to the body bag in the back. "Needed to pick something up."

There was a cup of coffee in the cup holder, steam coming from the opening in the lid. "Coffee?" he asked sarcastically. He was well aware of the body in the back of the van, but he was doing his best to ignore it. Leaning forward, he took the Styrofoam cup from the cup holder and took a long sip of the warm liquid.

"Hey! That's mine!" she exclaimed, reaching for the cup.

"It's still hot!" he said, holding it away from her reach. He took another sip, letting the warmth of the drink warm up his body. The after taste of it was sickly sweet and he pulled a face. "Shit, how much sugar is in here, Angel?"

She laughed, taking the cup from him when he handed it over. "Enough," she answered vaguely.

"Gross," he said scrunching up his nose. He rubbed at his bare arms, shivering in the cold coming from her vents. "Fuck, its cold in here."

Angela felt bad as she watched him shiver a bit. "Sorry, it keeps the body from decomposing too fast. What happened to you anyway? Are you all right?"

He nodded lethargically. "Fine. Just sore," he answered around a big yawn. "I'm never taking Vitamins from Tig again. Fuckin' lunatic."

"Did he tell you to take them?"

"No, he gave me this bag and told me to hold onto them."

Angela let out a loud laugh before she could stop herself. "So you took one?" she exclaimed, through her laughter.

"I didn't know what they were!" he defended, a smile tugging up the corner of his lips. He liked hearing her laugh and liked that he could make her laugh.

"So you took one?" she repeated.

"Well...yeah."

"You're such a goof!"

Juice found himself laughing at the insult. He much preferred 'goof' to 'idiot' or 'moron'. It was sweeter, not as negative as the other two. "Well, I definitely learned my lesson."

"I hope so!" she said, a big smile on her face that made his stomach flutter in a way he wasn't used to.

He nodded emphatically. "So this guy? What are you doing to him?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself down. "Umm...him...I'm embalming this one."

"Huh," he said, cocking his head to the side. He'd seen the cremating process and was a little curious about the embalming one. "Can I watch?"

Her dark eyes widened in surprise; that was a request she'd never heard before. "You want to watch me embalm someone?"

He shrugged a shoulder, not at all surprised by her shocked response. "Sure. Why not?"

"I don't know. It's just weird. Most people don't want to see stuff like that."

"I've seen you cremate someone. I want to see this one too. I'm an intelligence officer, this is recon," he replied on a shrug. "C'mon, I won't bother you, promise."

She laughed a little. Him bothering her was not something she was worried about. She was more concerned he'd throw up and she'd have to clean it. "It's not as easy as the whole cremation process, you know. It's kind of...gross."

Juice rolled his eyes. He'd seen worse. A lot worse. "I can handle it, Angel. C'mon. I'll keep you company. Make sure the zombies don't get to you while you're working."

Angela smirked as she nodded. "All right, all right. I've been looking for a person to protect me against zombies, anyways."

"In that case, drop me off at my place so I can change and get my zombie shooting gun," he said, pointing out the turn to the clubhouse. "I can't do very much in a diaper. I'm not Tommy Pickles."

"Is that a Rugrats reference?" she asked, a little surprised. She didn't imagine big bad biker boys watched a lot of Nickelodeon.

Juice winked at her as he jumped down from the car. "A baby's gotta do what a baby's gotta do!" he exclaimed, running towards the front door before anyone else could see him.

He headed inside but not before he heard her shout. "Goof!"

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Juice waltzed into the funeral home work room just as Angela uncovered the body. He stopped in the doorway, eyes wide. "Woah," he said, looking at the stiff old dude on the table.

"Nice to see you too, Juice," Angela quipped with a smile. His light brown eyes lifted from the dead body to her face, his shoulders relaxing a bit when he saw her smile.

He took a few more steps in, making a wide arc around the table, his big black boots clunking against the ground with every step. "This is weird."

"I told you," she reminded him, watching as he heaved himself up onto the counter, leaning back against the glass cabinets filled with supplies.

His eyes were wide as he watched her work off the old man's wedding ring. She walked towards him and placed it on the pile of clothes that was resting next to his thigh. "Are those..." he trailed off, still a little put off by the whole thing.

"Yep. That's what's he's going to be wearing," she confirmed, her expression cautious as she studied him, waiting for him to bolt.

He let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay," he said, rubbing a hand over his mowhawk. "Now what?"

She shifted awkwardly from one boot to the other, biting her lip. "Now, I clean him off and...um...massage him."

His eyebrows skyrocketed to his hairline at her statement, a surprise sound escaping his lips. "Shut the fuck up," he said, an incredulous look on his face. "No you don't."

She blushed a little and nodded, spraying the body down with a germicidal solution. "Yeah. It relieves rigor and helps the embalming fluid get to where it needs to go."

"Weird."

That was the word of the day. Weird. Everything about this whole situation was weird, but he had to admit he liked watching her work. Loved watching the careful way she bended and flexed each limb, her lithe fingers rubbing over the muscles. For a brief moment, he pictured those fingers kneading his own muscles, her warm body pressed against his as she stroked her fingers over his back. He swallowed hard, shaking his head; this was not the right place to be thinking that.

She caught the dark, almost lusty look in his eyes and a shiver went down her spine. "What?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

He wondered what her reaction would be if he admitted what he was thinking, than decided against finding out. This was only the second time they'd hung out, and he didn't want to scare her off; he kind of liked hanging out with her. He cleared his throat, managing to smile. "Nothin'. Just...watching."

"Goof," she teased, rolling her eyes.

"Hey, I'm not the one rubbing up a dead guy."

She rolled her eyes again and continued doing her job. When she was satisfied with it, she headed towards the tank of fluid. "Now, I'm going to fill him up and drain him out."

"Awesome," he said on a light chuckle.

Angela grinned at his enthusiasm as she found the right artery and vein. She stuck the embalming fluid tube in the artery before putting the draining one in the vein. She started the machine and took a step back. "Now we wait," she said with a shrug. She rolled the small stool she usually sat on toward him. "How was Funtown?" she asked, leaning against the cabinets next to his foot.

"Fun," he answered simply. "Lots of rides and shit. I won a basketball."

"Congrats," she said, a small smile on her face. "Was it a Disney Princess one?"

At her teasing, he nudged the side of her arm with the toe of his boot. "No, it was a Knicks one, thank you very much."

She smiled up at him, laughter in her dark eyes. "Okay, big shot," she teased. Her face grew serious for a brief moment. "I heard about what happened to that poor girl. Someone should cut that asshole's balls off."

Juice chuckled, if she only knew. "He'll get what's comin' to him," he said confidently. "Karma's a bitch."

"True that," Angela agreed on a nod.

His phone blared loudly in his pocket and he grimaced as he hopped down off the counter. Another moment with Angela interrupted. "Got to go. Duty calls," he said, showing her the ringing phone. "I'll call you later."

She waved goodbye to him, feeling the smile slowly fade from her face as he left her alone. The heaviness of the situation set in once he left the room. Being around him made the depressing task at hand go by a lot faster and a lot easier. It wasn't that she didn't like her job; she loved it. Sometimes, though, it got a little heavy. Having Juice in the room made the weight of death feel just a little bit lighter. She hoped he stayed in her life awhile longer.

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. "Get a grip, Ang," she mumbled to herself as she went back to work.